Name: Ren Verte

Age: Twenty-four (24)

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Appearance: Ren's somewhat average stature of 5'8 really removes any intimidation on his part. Though he sports a long, black cloak with a matching tattered scarf which covers a sleeveless plain tunic he wears on his body. His wide purple eyes are often half-lidded, seemingly giving him a perpetual relaxed facial expression alongside his long eyelashes and strong jawline. A messy mane of jet-black hair often cover the majority of his eyes as his hair falls down to his nape. The boy's pale complexion makes him appear almost sickly. Ren's rather sinewy figure from his years working in mines and prostitution bars also placed his fighting skills at a questionable level. An ornate iron flute hangs at Ren's waist while a leather bag is slung over his shoulder. A series of diagonal scars run over his lips, almost as if someone sewed his mouth shut. Ren also wears a pair of black ketill trousers and a pair of sturdy, brown boots. A series of faded and fading scars litter the lad's chest, arms, and legs which were more dealt in the 'heat' of a moment rather than the heat of a sword.

Abilities: Cytokinesis - Ren has the ability to manipulate the cells of organisms, although, at his current level, he has limited capabilities:

Cellular Acceleration: Ren can force his body to produce a great number of cells at will, which can speed up his regeneration abilities as well as giving him increased strength and endurance. However, this technique is a sharp two-edged blade as forcing the body will cause him to become greatly weakened once the ability is undone.

Cellular Transfusion: Ren can transfer his cells unto another person without risk of bodily rejection or complications via skin to skin contact. It is generally believed that consuming Ren's skin is similar to drinking a miracle healing draught-- though these are more or less rumors, as of the moment. These transferred cells immediately cater to the victim's bodily settings, allowing the increased number of cells to allow the person to heal faster as well as to gain additional strength. It should be noted, however, that this does decrease the cells inside Ren, causing him to be weakened by using this technique and overuse could cause him to, ultimately, die. This technique is most often used to heal the victim's wounds and, to an extent, be used to even reattach limbs.

Cellular Disintegration: An incomplete technique that he has yet to master, let alone use. At his rate, Ren has no real offensive capabilities aside from punches or whatnot. Most probably, Cellular Disintegration, in its most basic aspects, would allow the boy to corrode the cells of organic objects that he might touch should he develop the skill in the future.

Special Weaknesses: His lack of offensive abilities as well as his pacifist nature makes Ren a terrible fighter when push comes to shove. For some reason, through the years of abuse, he could never bring himself to raise a fist against his oppressors. The boy, while intelligent, is often naïve and too trusting of other people without even knowing their real intentions. He also has been rendered mute due to a cause only known by him. As such, he has to communicate using a series of gestures that he learned from a group of traveling religious men. This may cause miscommunications with his allies. If need be, Ren is educated enough to read and write-- he can also write down his thoughts on a piece of parchment to make communicating easier.

Weapons: Not really a weapon, but it can be used that way: Ren carries an iron flute with him.

Items: A sling bag with some rations of salted pork, herbs, and other spices. The bag also contains a small skin-pouch where he placed his water inside. A tattered leather pouch also rests within the bag where it contains a good number of gold and silver pieces that Ren obtained from his 'services' in his travels.

Backstory: Upon the snowy parapets of Aryali, in the same manner that there were only the dyad seasons of Winter and Autumn, there were also only two respected professions: miners and masons. While the miners delved into the golden bosom of the caverns below to bring precious minerals and materials to the land above, the masons used the resources to erect majestic houses for the aryalite folks. In the middle of the hustle and bustle of the rich cities of the frosty isolated kingdom, there laid a sector of houses that the wealthy often frequent-- a place where winter's bite was forgotten in a hurricane of flesh and lust. The countless lines of men and women who served, as what the locale populace called them, as 'warmers' for noblemen and noblewomen who could afford to shell out a few gold pieces for a few hours' worth of mind-numbing pleasure.

For those who could not brave the dangerous depths of the mines nor had the talent for architecture, this was the job that they took in order to survive in the city where the standard of living bordered on extortion. Ren was such one child. Found at the doorstep of a local temple, the boy was trained to become a miner but an accident during one of his excavations rendered him a 'danger'. He was soon expelled the miners' association, and was left to wander the frozen streets. With an intelligence not meeting the standards of masonry nor mercantilism, there was only one dark road that would offer respite to the boy: the Houses of Warmth.

Casting off every shred of human dignity and pride, the boy was forcibly thrown into the life of prostitution as each passing day spent wallowing in the depths of just being used over and over and over again robbed Ren of his own volition. What made him popular was a strange gift he only discovered recently: the ability to manipulate the cells of those who touched him. The customers insisted that he use this gift for their own pleasure-- stretching their tumble down the precipice of bliss with a slight manipulation of hormones excreted from their cells. Four years would pass in this hellish dreamscape with each month slowly fraying the fabrics which kept Ren's mind together.

As he strolled by the frigid alleys of Aryali, he made sure to always help out the children and homeless he saw there. He pledged that the nightmare of chains which meshed him to that Warmth House would never strangle another child's innocence. He knew that this was the only way he could help those in need, though no one ever helped him when he sank to the bottom.

He would have stayed in the Warmth House until his end when a familiar new employee entered the House: the same girl he always gave a coin to in the alleyway.

The sight shook Ren to the core as immense shame overcame him, especially when the girl performed her first 'warming'. On that same night, when the moon danced behind the shadows of night, Ren packed his things and fled the place of his shame. He could bear the brunt of his own dignity being tarnished by the filth of men and women, but to be unable to stop another life from being ruined like his was nigh on impossible to stomach.

His direction-less journey led the wanderer to the west of the land, coming upon the towns near the Kingdom of Nora where he continued to be employed in the only profession he knows how. He bore the brunt of each encounter: if the scent became overpowering, just wash it off; if it stung too much, just grip the sheets; and, if the mind cannot weather the storm, just look away. As always, after gathering enough supplies from each village and town, he departed in the sheet of night to venture deeper into a land unknown.

Soon, he met the gruesome ruined sights of broken crosses and dilapidated shacks. The stench of death wafted upon the air, prompting Ren to seek sanctuary in the nearest village without a mountain of corpses littering around it: Nadska. It was fortunate for him to also find a group of stranded merchants also traveling towards Nadska. He hitched a ride with them, playing the flute as he went along into an adventure that he would never, ever want to forget.