Name: Jarek Wildervan
Age: 20
Allegiance: The Lords of the Outer Plane
Personality: Jarrek learned from a young age that the bold and risky moves are the ones that normally create the best result, though indeed he has also learned that the can cause the largest loss as well. He was taught to have basic morals and ethics as well, though he isn't against thievery if there is no other option. Jarrek, though he is normally a bit of a loner, ultimately desires a family, a group of people who truly care for him, and while he is guarded, he is drawn to those who show kindness and honesty towards not only him, but others as well. In short, Jarrek is bold, daring, prideful, and a little reckless.
Species: Aeygyptan
Immortal Type:Reborn
City of Origin: Lemuria
Magic Source: N/A
Skills: Swords, brawling, survival
Secondary Skills: theivery, as well as "the arts"/persuasion
Equipment: Short blade, knife, dried meat (three days worth), bedroll
Backstory:
Jarrek Wildervan was born in the city of magic, though he was as powerless as the average man, unable to summon even the smallest spark of magic. Even less magical still was his life at home. He was born to Garth, a washed up drunk who cared more about his cheap booze than his actual son. Garth was lazy, and constantly sent Malinda and Jarrek to collect money for him doing whatever they could. When they returned empty handed, they were harshly beaten. This led Jarrek to become desperate, and soon he found himself stealing things to evade the painful bludgeons Garth would provide him with as well as to stave off the gnawing of hunger he would often find himself with.
As the years went on, Jarrek began to realize that there was more in life than scrounging for survival. There was more out there for he and his mother. They didn't deserve the lot that they had drawn. He would often daydream of the kind and loving embrace people who loved him, of warm, firelit houses where the smell of freshly baked bread was constant. He yearned for family, not the harsh and cold group of people he lived with now. That was not true family.
At the age of twelve, Jarrek did something that changed his life forever. He was going about his day, begging, doing odd jobs and so forth, when the house of a local mercenary caught his eye. This fighter was rather well off, and Jarrek could tell by the way he carried himself that he had more than enough money and food to go around. He waited until the mercenary was out of the house, and then attempted to rob it. attempted because, though there was no one in the house to stop him, there were magical traps that he did not perceive. Jarrek was knocked unconscious by one such defense, and when he awoke, the mercenary stood above him. The man didn't look angry, but rather amused by the poor attempt Jarrek had made to rob him. At first, the mercenary was going to throw him to the guards and let them sort it out, but something made him change his mind. Jarrek couldn't tell what it was, but something made the mercenary take pity on him and determine to train him. The mercenary had not had a apprentice in all his life, nor had he had any children, and perhaps it was his want, his desprate need to pass on his legacy before he met his fate that swayed his mind.
Regardless, the mercenary allowed the boy to train with him. After weeks of training, Jarrek was able to leave his life of thievery behind and join the mercenary on some of his less dangerous missions. Soon, Jarrek was bringing home honestly earned food and provisions to his family. Life was good. The mercenary, whose name was Bhor, grew to be like a father to Jarrek, a member of the warm loving family the boy had dreamed of. However, time continues on, and with it, loss.
On one of his many escapades,just eight years after first meeting Bhor, Jarrek finally experienced this loss. It wasn't any major journey or mission. He and Bhor were just supposed to scout out a group of bandits, steal back a book for some collector. However, that's where everything went downhill. Bhor and Jarrek accomplished this task fairly easily, but on the way back, Bhor read what was in the book. It was a book of magic, it seemed to be about dark necromancy of a sort, though Jarrek couldn't really understand any of the symbols or incantations. After reading through it, Bhor's morals got the best of him and he refused to accomplish the task. He decided to destroy the book and cancel the contract. His employer wouldn't take no for an answer, though. The morning after Bhor had met with his employer to cancel the contract, he was found in his house, throat slit and book missing.
Jarrek was filled with rage, with a thirst for revenge. He returned to the tavern where Bhor had met with the apparent necromancer, but the man was long gone. The bartender said he had never even seen him before. It was at that moment that Jarrek decided to leave his home, to take his skill on the road as a soldier for hire, all the while searching out his master's killer wherever he could. The chances of finding him were rather slim, Jarrek knew, but he had to try.
As he left his parents, his old washed up father and his aging kind mother, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Indeed, Garth had been nothing but cruel towards him, but he was still his father and, though it felt strange to think it, he loved him. He remembered the early days of his life, when he had foolishly dreamed of fleeing from Garth with his mother, a smile spreading across his face. With one last glance over his shoulder towards his home, Jarrek stepped into the unknown.