Full Name: Velais Vis
Nicknames: The Ward
Race: Human/elf mix
Age:87 (around 24 looking)
Hair: Dirty blonde with streaks of white
Skin: pale, perfect complexion
Eyes: Varies ( explained later)
Place of Birth: Serane Village ( north shore of the Taga Rv.)
Relatives: Father, Rian Vis, died in a fire. His mother, Aliam Ris, lives in the whispering woods in the village of Sithimas.
Enemies: Rorri Evanstone, no other enemies besides malevolent beings or unjust people.
Allies: Sasrin Van-guile (elven traveling companion), no other allies
Skillsets: Swords, bows, hunting, and some enchanting
Magical abilities: proficient in elemental magic and knowledgeable about sorcery (carries a grimoire)
Appearance: Tall and lithe with a wiry build (thin with toned muscles) and near-perfect posture. short, cropped hair that spikes toward the front and a white, stylized, tribal-esque dragon tattoo on his left forearm that winds down to his left palm where the dragon's open maw faces outward.
Armor of Choice: The Eyes of Meridian: Armor created by the Raiyeen from a material voiced into existence through magic (similar compostition to mythril or other mythical metals). Covered in magical sigils that allow him to channel his magical abilities through the surfaces of his armor. Usually wears a blue hooded robe over his armor.
Weapons of Choice: Ignis Mare (ocean fire). Straight, center tipped sword, deep blue in color and also covered in magical sigils that allow him to channel his magic through it. 3'10" blade with a 3"-5" hilt and a sculpted gold hand guard. made of same material as armor
Other Equipment: Grimoire of concentrated energy (holds tons of info and incantations about concetration spells and fortification enchantments)
Positive Personality Traits: respectful, Kind and compassionate, enjoys the company of others, intelligent and perceptive.
Negative Personality Traits: prefers to have things his way, doesn't like taking orders (prefers to lead)
Misc. Quirks: Doesn't like people touching his equipment, especially his grimoire.
Likes: the sounds of nature, good views, the ocean, intelligent people, respect
Dislikes: stupid people, people who don't think before they act, bugs
Hobbies:climbing, exploring, swimming, hunting
Preferred Food: not picky, at all, likes meat and cheese though
Preferred Drinks: tea and coffee, doesn't like alcohol and how it makes him irrational
History: Velais' father was a human and his mother was an elf. Being a half-breed he was looked upon with hostility by the other humans. He was always treated like he was worth less than others, this caused him to avoid contact with humans whenever possible. He barely ever tread in the town itself except to buy provisions for his parents. He spent most his time either out in the woods by his village, hunting, or off on adventures in the rocky regions on the other side of the woods.
When he turned sixteen, his parents and him moved out to the woods, for they found that they were no longer welcome in town. They began a self-sufficient life in the woods, not returning to town except to visit with friends and buy tools occasionally. four years passed of happy living, then, one day as he was returning with food from one of their fields, he found their house up in flames, their water tower tipped, and their livestock stolen.
He fell to his knees as he saw the sight. All his family's hard work and dedication was up in flames. He ran to the town as quickly as he could seeking help, but not even his tears were enough for the townspeople. He was shunned, told he wasn't worth their time. Hardening his resolve, he carried innumerable buckets, filled with water, back and forth betweem the village well and his home, desperately trying to douse the flame that was destroying all he knew, he was unsuccessful.
As he lay at the feet of his burning teenhood, he felt that there was nothing left in his life, but he somehow muscled up the courage to search the house. As he sifted through the remains, he first found something that chilled him to the bones and renewed his dried tears. His father's corpse, burnt and shriveled, lay around the one thing he cherished most. There, wrapped in a blanket, was his mother. unconscious and beaten. He helped his mother up and carried her into town, ignoring the looks he recieve from the townspeople, he went directly to the healers house. Galia, the healer at the time, was an elf. She was one of the only people in the town that had ever treated Velias and his family with any kind of kindness. He left his mother in her care and set about the town, looking for information about the fire. Then as he was questioning a rather stingy elderly couple, he spotted a man, leading HIS livestock through the town toward the butcher's shop. He immediately ran after the man, seizing the reigns from his hands, only to be knocked flat on his back by the man standing adjacent to him
"get lost, halfling." the man said, spite evident in his voice.
"You get lost, wretch! these are my cattle! you stole them!" Velais had never been so angry in his life. His father had always taught him to be kind, even to those who despised him..his father.. as he thought of his burnt body laying on the ground of him scorched home, the only feeling he could conjure up was malice.
"prove it halfling. These are our cattle now, we found them"
Velais snapped, and launched himself at the man, swinging wildly, clawing at his eyes, and doing everything he could to kill, or even maim, the man for what he had done.
"It was you! I know it was you! i'll kill you!" Velais screamed. As the man regained his balance he sat upright, pawing at his eyes.
"ah! you dirty brat, my eyes! i'll kill you for this you dirty mutt!" The man swung blindly at Velais, unable to see through the blood. He got a lucky strike, his fist cracking against Velais' hip and knocking him off balance. Velais fell to the ground and the two other men stood over him and began kicking him.
"dirty halfling!" they cursed "you don't belong here!" "Crawl off and die with your father!" This struck Velais like a physical blow.
Who said that? how could they know?.. Then it hit him harder than any man or women in the town ever could.
It was them, all of them..the people of this town did this to us. As the realization clicked in his brain, it gave him a renewed vigor. He grabbed one of the men's feet at it swung in for another kick, twisting it to the side, thus effectively snapping the ankle. The man fell to the ground writhing in pain, and the other was to stunned to continue his assault.
Velais picked himself up, bloody and bruised, and gave the surrounding crowd a shameful look. A look that told every one of the people watching with smiles on their faces that he did not hate them for what they had done, he pitied them. He pitied them for how narrow minded they were and how closed to the world these people were. As he walked to the healer's house, he felt taller than them all.
When he opened the door, his mother gasped. The blood flowed freely down from Velais' head, and the bruises on his arms were bright purple. Galia offered him help, but he rejected her, he would do this on his own. He scooped his mother up in his arms, and walked from the healers house. The accusing eyes of the people bored into him as he made his way to the center of the town. He strode up onto the platforms usually used for performances by jugglers and the sort, stunning the fire breather who was in mid-act. Velais said nothing as the crowd died to silence. He could see the initial reaction, distaste, on nearly all of the faces in the audience.
He set his mother on the stage behind him and turned to speak.
"You, all of you," he addressed the entire crowd "are despicable." He shifted on the stage, allowing fresh tears to stream down his face.
"I came to you, the people who watched me grow, to ask for help as my home burned and my father died. But you rejected me." Velais Stood taller then than he ever had in his entire life.
"So with this, my fellow countrymen," As he said this there was an uproar, he couldn't make out any individual words, but he could feel them. We aren't your countrymen, halfling. He disregarded the roar.
"with this, I reject you as well." As he uttered those words, something within him stirred, forming itself to his will. As he opened his eyes, a bright flame burned within them. With a scream louder then he had ever uttered, flames exploded out of every part of him. The fire seemed to come from his very core, sifting out through the very pores of his skin. But the oddest thing was that his flames did not burn the wooden stage, or the houses. As the flames traveled through the crowd, people started to collapse to the ground in either pain or shock, it wasn't evident. Not every person, only the people who had ever looked at him with that hollow look, the one that screamed you don't belong.
Velais picked his mother up from the stage, shocked as the rest of the crowd, a look of awe in her eyes. She cupped his cheek with her hand
"My son."she whispered. as shre stared into his eyes she noticed them swirling with color, fire perhaps, and knew that the light of his eyes would guide him through even the blackest darkness. Velais left the town then, never looking back. He may not have known it, but he left his mark. For as they arose, the men and women who had collapsed, came to their feet, a hand-print scorched onto each of their faces. Little did Velais know that this defect would be passed down to every generation after them.
Velais knew where to go first, he took his mother, and headed directly for the Whispering woods. As the weeks of travel passed, with his mother's guiding hand, and Velais' brilliant hunting skills, they arrived at the whispering woods, the trees, double or triple the size of the houses from his village just in the circumferences of their trunks. When they came to the magical barrier that protected the woods, they passed through unharmed and unabated. Within another week's travel they arrived at the city of Elthume, the southernmost City in the Whispering Woods. It was there that Velais learned swordsmanship from the elven masters, and there that he learned to control the fires of his soul, his magic. He was imprinted with a tattoo that allowed him to channel streams of fire through the maw of the dragon on hiw palm. He was always surprised at the level of respect he was treated with, almost as if her were one of them, almost. Some customs were not observed because of his heritage, but he was far from displeased with the treatment.
After twenty years spent in the whispering wood, Velais was ready to move on, see the rest of Gadria. He left his mother in the capable hands of his swordsmaster, Karol Silthias, and set out to see the world.
He first traveled to the shimmering isles, and was permitted to enter after a Raiyeen sentry examined his mind and found him pure of heart and soul.
there he learned the secrrets of the ocean the the Raiyeen and was awarded his armor, The Eyes of Meridian, and his sword, Ignus Mare, both of which he had a large part in the production of. And after twenty-two more years of magical study, he was awarded the Grimoire of concentrated energy. From there he went to see the rest of Gadria, not knowing where to go next.