[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/AlmWmj9.png[/img]
[b][color=662d91]Jorak Tenumbra[/color][/b][/center]

[color=662d91][b]Element:[/b][/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIo8qZg_beM]Darkness[/url]

[color=662d91][b]Age:[/b][/color] 17

[color=662d91][b]Gender:[/b][/color] Male

[color=662d91][b]Appearance:[/b] [/color]Built like a great oak, Jorak stands at 6’ even and seems to still have an inch or so left to grow. Though not overly muscular, he’s clearly trained to define his body from a young age. He’s been described as older than he looks thanks to his relatively sharp featured face; his blue-grey eyes have been described as harsh or steely at times. His auburn hair is surprisingly long, shoulder-length, though it’s kept out of his eyes by a purple headband.

His outfit consists of a short sleeved shirt, secured at the waist with a leather sash, long pants, and simple boots. Colors vary from dull green to faded brown, showing the clothes have been well-worn. His forearms are wrapped constantly in cloth, secured at the wrists by a pair of purple armbands. Of note is also the plain purple tabard he wears, its color still vibrant. Though not quite as useful as a cloak, it’s still heavy enough to provide some warmth and comfort. He's donned a thick travel cloak for the journey.

Dagger and hatchet hang from Jorak's belt, while quiver and unstrung bow are on his back. 

[color=662d91][b]Theme Song:[/b][/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lodcYj65c7Q]Virus by Max Legend[/url]

[color=662d91][b]Nature:[/b][/color] A quiet but confident youth, Jorak isn’t the most individualistic person. Though quick-witted and observant, he still looks to his elders for guidance and orders given how he was raised. He can come up with a plan of action, but waits on those in charge to give the go-ahead first. Admirable and desired qualities for a young guard or soldier, but perhaps a bit crippling in what’s to come.

Tenacious to a fault, he has improved such that it could be called a virtue rather than vice. As long as the task is legitimate, Jorak will strive to see it through to the end. At the same time, he isn’t stubborn, so it’s easy enough to have him direct his efforts elsewhere. Naturally, he’ll express frustration and discontent if his efforts are for naught, but ultimately he follows directions.

He gets along well with most sorts given Jorak doesn’t really give others trouble and isn’t easily bothered. He respects both intelligence and actual deeds, understanding both are important in their own rights. Naturally leans towards those that are more brainy given it’s what he would consider his weakness.

[color=662d91][b]Backstory:[/b][/color] Lorcrove. A [url=http://i.imgur.com/Epn1hbd.png]small town located north[/url] of Jeorvo past forests and mountains. It is situated near the edge of a twisted forest covered in heavy mist at all times in the year. Twisted silhouettes stalk the treeline and occasionally venture forth to terrorize the population. Ghastly screeches and wails pierce the night sky every full moon, filling the sleep of many with night terrors. Why for all this do people still stay? During the day, when the sun shines bright and drives back the unsettling fog. The land is bountiful and harvests are rich. Brave men and women man the makeshift walls, built from the wood from the “cursed” forest itself.

Jorak’s father was one of the respected militiamen. A veteran of more than a fair share of battles and expeditions. By the time Jorak had been born he no longer manned the walls or patrolled as often. Age, but mostly old injures, had taken their toll and left him unfit for the strenuous nature of active duty. His father remained involved with the guard though as a trainer for new recruits. Thus, it was only in the evenings that Jorak saw his father. His mother managed to raise him while maintaining her profession as a baker.

From a young age, Jorak remembered the forest was never scary to him. He slept soundly through the nights of a full moon, and seemed to gaze at the shrouded treeline with interest and curiosity rather than fear. It wasn’t much later that he began to accompany his father to the training grounds. At first he simply watched the recruits drill and train, but in short order he had his own drills and training to fulfill. It was quite harsh, but he was a child and impressionable. That his father seemed genuinely happy and impressed that he followed through was enough for Jorak to continue and persevere.

At 14 Jorak finally understood what monsters plagued the town. Manned at the wall when a silhouette loomed at the edges of the treeline, the bell tolled an alarm for Lorcrove. As if set off by the booming noise, the creature swept out of the fog covered forest. Only it brought the fog with it, swirling around its body and hiding its appearance. As arrows were loosed, the projectiles disappeared within the shroud of fog that hid the creature. Only shrieks of pain that sent chills up his spine showed that the creature was harmed. What had to be dozens of arrows and the shrouded monster still put up a fight against the spears that met it at the gate. Yet fall it did and to his surprise, the fog drifted back to the forest and left nothing but clean arrows behind.

“They already see you clearly enough. These are so your comrades will never miss you, even if the fog descends upon the town.” With those words his father gifted him the purple-colored accessories Jorak still keeps to this day. Though he has stood guard on the walls many times, he is still too young to venture forth from the protection of the walls and towards the forest to strike back at the monsters that would prey on the townsfolk. With recent events, it seems unlikely that he will either. 

Since his last birthday just a few days ago, his dreams have been unchanging and constant. Visions of a journey far south from home to a grand town where he would meet with others. A task that culminated at the castle where the root of evil had taken hold and spread far and wide. He tried to ignore it, but night after night it returned. It is not the only oddity either. When he jolted awake from the vivid dream… though it felt more than just that, Jorak found a pitch black dagger in his grip. He dropped it like some venomous snake and the weapon splattered against his bedsheets like ink on parchment. Well… if the ink moved like it was alive and disappeared into the shadows cast by the moonlight from his window. 

[color=662d91][b]Goal(s):[/b][/color] Nothing grand at the moment and simply hopes to live up to his father’s expectations. Curious of the dreams he has had since his birthday and the strange abilities that seem to have come with it. 

[color=662d91][b]Inventory[/b][/color]
[list]
[*] Short bow & Quiver (20 Broad heads)
[*] Hatchet
[*] Dagger
[*] Waterskin
[*] Belt Pouch (Bow strings, coins)
[*] Travel Pack (Extra clothes, fire starters, bundle of rope, rations; wooden bowl, spoon, and plate.)
[/list]