Name: Darian
Appearance: Black haired and with eyes like jade fire, Darian is not altogether tall, but not short, either. His choice attire is mostly a voluminous black cloak, baggy brown trousers, and a perpetual grimace. On the rare occasion he smiles, it almost seems wrong. There is something distant and sad reflected in his eyes, and his tanned skin is littered with scars and bruises. A red and black inked tattoo that is rarely visible, on his left scapula.
History: Not too much is known of Darian- in particular, his surname is a well kept secret. Where he came from, his reasons for hiring himself out as a mercenary- all of these things are often speculated about, but he ever remains the secret he means to be. He keeps most conversations about his past brief, but on one occasion was rumored to have said:
"Everyone makes mistakes. It's what you do after that which speaks of who you are."
Personality: Quiet, contemplative, low tolerence for idiocy, short fuse.
Trade: Mercenary.
Skillset: this and that...
Equipment/Weapons: two long knives, sheathed on either hip. Crossbow slung precariously over a shoulder. Quarrels. Money. Munitions in a satchel that hangs from his hip.



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