Name: Halbren Age: 32 Residence: The Dragon's Lair Cot and Ale
Non-Craft Rank: Alehouse Owner
Brief Description of Persona:
Seemingly small at only 5' 6", most would never guess Halbren to weigh 165#. He is all muscle, compact and hard, with reflexes a tunnel sanke would envy. Light brown hair, worn down to the nape of his neck, soft brown eyes, and smiling, full lips complete the deception. He usually wears long trousers to hide the scar running the length of his right leg, a reminder of his earlier days and the cause of his slight, almost imperceptable limp. His voice is a mild tenor, always deceptively soft. Men tend to dismiss him, women tend to mother him...until they know him.
Halbren wants, in fact needs, power, success, status. He prefers to attain these by his by his intellect, but if he needs to use his other abilities, so be it. He actually likes people, all people, but will coldly kill if necessary, and without a second thought, ever. He is a leader, a thinker, but above all, a doer. His goals are set, and others are allowed to either join him or stay out of his way. He has a fanatic devotion to his subordinates and no tolerance for anyone who would insult, let alone misuse, those under him. He can be admired, loved even, or he can be feared. There is no middle ground.
Brief History of Persona:
The third son of a monor holder in Northern, Halbren was raised with love and affection. But he was also highly intelligent, and realized early on that he had little future. So he looked at society thru eyes mature for his age and decided he would have to accrue marks then purchase his own state in life. When he announced, at only 15 Turns, his intent to become a mercenary, his father was distrought. But somehow his mother understood. Early in his training he was laughed at by his larger peers, until they practiced with the small youth who never admitted defeat, always bounced back for more punishment. He voraciously consumed his training, rightly reasoning that a skilled fighter could end a fight quickly and, eventually, not even be required to fight due to reputation. Mastering every weapon but preferring the belt knife, he became a leader within the mercenary company. But he always saved his gains, looking toward the future. Finally, his chance came: an inn in Southern was available. He haggled the price down, paid the agreed, and took his leave from his comrads, save one, to journey to Southern and begin his career as a businessman. If problems should arise, he felt secure he could tend to them, one way or another. Halbren respects Lords, Craftsmen, and Riders; he only requires they show him the same respect.
E-mail Vic if you'd like, I'm sure he'd love to hear from you!
