Appearance: In armorOut-Stands at 5 feet 7 inches/1.7 Meters
-Has several noticeable scars, although not many. Most notably on his back, forearms, and shins.
Name: Iranos Vaad
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Magic: Celestial Spirit Magic - The Extremopar KeysAmongst the small tribal villages scattered across the world, the belief of an apex predator living in the extremes of the world remains. Large creatures, impossible to tame, impossible to stalk, the perfect hunters hunting in the most hostile environments the world has to offer. Mountains so high, a normal person would suffocate at the lack of oxygen. Deserts so barren and blazing that water would evaporate in seconds. Waters at such depths that the strongest armor would be crushed under the pressure. They are often called spirits of the hunt.
The Hunter of The Windy Mountains, Veshinko the Peakjumper. A large white jumping spider, who is said to ride the walls of wind that surround mountains.
The Stalker of The Scorching Dunes, Hakim the Stinger of The Sands. A large scorpion, who is said to emanate heat from his body.
The Vanguard of The Chilling Depths, Dakelh the Trenchdweller. A massive crab, who in particular is said to have no real offensive ability. Although Dakelh's endurance and armor is unmatchable.
Personality: Iranos is a kind hearted person, always helping and wanting to help. Although his pride won't let him let other people be his crutch. Because of this, when he summons one of his Extremopar companions, he refuses to let them fight alone, he fights alongside them with nothing but his wits, skill, and weapons. And he's stubborn. Once he sets his mind to something, he'll work towards that goal. Iranos himself is a bit humble, he wants to be the greatest hunter to live, but he knows that there are always better hunters. Like the mountains where he was born, his temper is as cold as ice, however, he seems to take personal offence when other humans are treated like animals.
Biography: Iranos' birthplace is one of the Mountain tribes in the northern part of the world, where at a young age, like all boys in his tribe, was trained to be a hunter. To provide food, security, and warming furs for his tribe. As a young boy, Iranos was particularly stubborn, he didn't listen to any of the old legends that the elders told the young hunters, his only interest was to become stronger. Not through silly techniques, he wanted to be strong. Because he didn't exactly pay much attention during his sparring lessons, he was always behind the curve when it came to skill with a spear. And because he was always behind the curve, he was often bullied by the more skilled young hunters, partly due to the fact that he brought in so little while they brought in so much more. Frustrated with many things, the young Iranos went off by himself to hunt something big, something nasty, strong, fast, something that even the veteran hunters have difficulty tracking and hunting. For two weeks the young Iranos tracked the creature, only using what he had overheard from in the village. A massive white spider, with black patterns and stripes on the legs and body.
He tracked it to an ice cave, on the top of one of the highest peaks in the mountain range. The young Iranos slowly crept in, spear at the ready, noticing the white webbed substance all over the walls, floor and ceiling. When he looked up, he saw a massive spider slowly descending upon him. It was crimson, but Iranos was already frozen with fear. His trance was broken by a blur of white crashing into the crimson spider mid air, sending both the white mass and the crimson spider smashing into a wall. When Iranos looked, he saw it. A larger, regal white jumping spider, adorned with black patterns and stripes across the body and legs. He saw how the two spiders wrestled, grappling, trying to get a clear chance at a killing blow with their deadly venomous bites. It resembled Iranos' tribal fighting style greatly. He watched as the regal white spider smashed the crimson one into the wall, then diving its fangs into its neck, a clear killing blow.
Iranos, now fully aware, crept up to the white spider and stabbed it with his spear. The white spider responded by knocking Iranos about a dozen feet away with one of its feet, undeterred, Iranos got back up and prepared for a counter attack. Instead, the white spider merely gazed at the young hunter. Then it spoke, its voice echoing in Iranos' skull. He was the Hunter of The Windy Mountains, the Peakjumper, the god of his tribe. Veshinko. It expressed its interest in the potential of the young hunter, and for five days, personally trained Iranos. Then, Veshinko had to leave. Equipped with the new skills, Iranos spent the following year honing that skill, using the cave as his camp. Exactly one year later, Veshinko returned, and sparred with Iranos often, becoming good friends. During a talk of the future, Iranos explained that it was perhaps time to travel the world, as his experiences in the mountains had given him experiences he could not have experienced in the village. Veshinko asked if he could come along. Iranos, confused, became unconfused as Veshinko transformed into a small blizzard of white blinding light and wind. On the floor where his god, his mentor, and friend stood, was and old and rusty platinum coin. When Iranos picked it up, he saw the unmistakable gaze of Veshinko on one side of the coin, and the symbol of his tribe on the other. He then took the key, and began his adventure southbound, towards an endless blazing desert...
Iranos adapted well from the cold of the mountains to the heat of the desert. He traveled four days into the desert when he heard screams and yelling, as he crested the next sand dune, in a sprint, he saw a caravan of people being raided by bandits. Disgusted, Iranos attacked the bandits, slaying the unskilled raiding party. The caravan gave him their thanks, and Iranos escorted them to their destination, a desert city on an oasis. When they arrived, Iranos sensed the aura of defeat in the air. The city looked bland, a mix of dull colors. The guards were fearful of him, a stranger. Iranos asked the guards where they could find the chief of the city, and they escorted him to the leader of the city. The leader explained that for years the bandits kept on raiding the city, that the bandits essentially own the deserts. Upset, Iranos vowed that he would free these people. He trained the guards as best he could, but they were clumsy and unwieldy with the spear. Although knowing that they were incompatible for the way of the spear, Iranos kept on trying.
Weeks later, during a skirmish, Iranos was taken prisoner by the bandits. He was imprisoned at their base, an old run down temple. After two days, Iranos was able to escape under the cover of night, instead of going out into the ocean of sand where he would be easily vulnerable, he went into the temple. Upon inspection of the temple, there were secret catacombs hidden underneath the venerable temple. He went down, and explored the tunnels, finding a room with a mounted sword. The sword went straight, then curved like a question mark, an ancient khopesh sword. Under it were scriptures, when Iranos looked them over, they were guides, instructions, and teachers to the way of the sword. When Iranos explored further, he unknowingly activated a device which called to an ancient hunter. Upon exiting the temple, he witnessed the awakening of The Stalker of The Scorching Sands, Hakim, rising from the desert sands. Furious that these bandits were raiding his people, Hakim destroyed the base and the bandits.
Iranos escaped from the battle, but he knew that the great scorpion he saw was a legend just like his companion. Eventually Iranos found his way back to the city, where he told the people of Hakim, and he saw hope in their eyes. Iranos spent two years living amongst the people of the sand, devoting those two years to training and learning the way of the sword. When he finally mastered the Khopesh, he taught the people how to defend themselves, and they seemed to just click when there was a Khopesh sword in their hands. Upon leaving the city gates, he found a red ruby with a small scorpion symbol etched into it. When Iranos picked it up, it had nearly burned his hand. He realized then, that this was Hakim's way of thanks, companionship. Iranos tried picking it up with his Khopesh when he realized that it had an empty socket on the hilt. Iranos put the ruby into the sword, and it snugly fit. It was then that a weary Iranos sighed and longed for an escape from the dry heat of the desert. And so, to the coast he traveled...
=WIP HERE=
Serena is short, only 1.56m. Her guild crest is white and is on the back of her left shoulder.
