[center][b]Darius Arenar[/b][/center] 

[b]Race:[/b] Half Elf

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Age:[/b] 28

[b]Class:[/b] Rogue

[b]Stats[/b]:

Strength: 10
Dexterity: 20
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 18

[b]Physical Description:[/b] Darius stands at approximately six foot one. He has a light skin tone with a slight tan to it, and a slightly muscular build well suited to speed and agility. He has medium length dark blond, almost brown, hair, and in the way of facial hair he has some short stubble on his cheeks. As for his eyes, they are a piercing dark green, and can vary between cold and calculating to kind and friendly, depending on what front he is trying to put up. He can be described as rather handsome, although he does have a thin, pale, barely noticeable scar running from under his left eye to the bottom of his cheek.

[b]Armor/Attire:[/b] Darius wears a brown vest of boiled leather, with a few empty pouches to quickly stash small items and potions. On his wrists he wears hardened leather bracers, and on his hands fingerless leather gloves. For leggings, he wears a pair of leather pants with additional padding on the thighs and crotch to hopefully negate any dirty fighting tactics. Protecting his shins and knees are some steel greaves, and for footwear he wears a pair of brown leather boots with a minor enchantment to reduce the noise he makes while walking.

To help him blend in cities, or protect him from the elements while traveling, he also has a hooded dark green cloak that is quite warm when wrapped around him.

[b]Equipment[/b] 
[list]
[*] Eight daggers and knives. Two are kept in sheaths strapped to his wrist, two on his belt, two more strapped to his thighs, and an additional two hidden in his boots.
[*] A light crossbow with twelve bolts.
[*] A walking stick, to help make him look more like a harmless traveler when he is out on the road.
[*] Several lockpicks in a pouch on his belt.
[*] A vial of poison and an antidote to go with it.
[*] Boots of Stealth that muffle his footsteps.
[*] Basic items like a coinpouch and a canteen on his belt.
[/list]

[b]Mental Description/Personality:[/b] Darius is a complicated individual. Although he has no qualms with resorting to thievery or breaking the law to get by, he doesn't make an active habit of it, and tends to only target the wealthy. He has a slight distrust of guards and authority figures, and will often take the law into his own hands, whether to profit or do what he thinks is right. But he also has a soft spot towards beggars and children, and tries to do right by the common citizen. Those who do manage to earn his trust will find a steadfast friend and ally.

[b]Goals:[/b] Darius doesn't have any particularly grand ambitions. He simply wishes to travel and earn enough coin to get by, perhaps even enough to retire and live a long comfortable life, as unlikely as that is.

[b]Background/History:[/b] Darius was born in Thentia to an elven mother and a human father. His mother was an alchemist who owned a small potion shop, and his father an adventurer who he had never got to meet. Their life wasn't exactly comfortable, but they got by, his mother teaching him how to identify herbs and brew potions so he could help her run the shop. That changed when he turned fourteen and his mother died of an unknown disease. Only a few days later, he realized that their financial situation was more severe than she let on. The shop had to be sold to pay off his mother's debts, and Darius was reduced to a life on the streets.

For his first few weeks he was reduced to begging in the streets, spending many a night cold and hungry. Eventually it became too much to bear, and he turned to thievery. Small things, at first - an apple or a loaf of bread from a market stall. But as he got better at it, he became more bold. When he was fifteen, he ended up joining a gang, who taught him how to pick pockets and defend himself using daggers and knives. He became extremely good at sneaking and blending in, and also found that he had a way with words; able to put on a convincing act of innocence whenever somebody suspected him.

When he was seventeen, the gang began to trust him with riskier assignments - break-ins. They taught him how to pick locks, which he was also quite good at. As the years went on, his other skills only improved. His boss was particularly proud of him, and one day gave him a pair of enchanted boots as payment for a particularly challenging heist (although in truth, they had belonged to another member of the gang who was found dead in an alley, and they just so happened to be Darius's size.)

But eventually, when he was twenty two, his luck ran out. His boss had become overconfident, and planned a rather daring job on the mansion of a powerful noble. Instead of the usual two or three assigned to a heist, it was a group of five, Darius among them. It had started out easy enough, and getting inside was surprisingly easy. And then it all went wrong.

Darius wasn't sure who had triggered the magical alarm - they had split up to cover all the rooms faster. But it made a loud noise that could be heard throughout the house, and all stealth was quickly abandoned. The five of them fled through the front door in panic, just as a patrol of guards happened to be passing by, who immediately took notice. The group split up and fled in different directions, the guards chasing them. 

Darius ended up being pursued by two guards who were particularly fleet footed. Unfamiliar with the neighborhood, he made a wrong turn and found himself facing a dead end. Unwilling to go to prison, he drew his daggers and turned around...

That night had been the first time he had ever killed someone. He had been unwilling to kill the second one, only wounding him, but he had seen Darius's face. Two of his fellow gang members had also been captured that night, and Darius feared they might give the others up. Even if he wanted too, staying in the city was no longer an option. So he fled, stowing away in a merchant cart as it left the city, not knowing his destination but simply wanting to leave his past behind.

He arrived in Melvaunt, and was left with the challenge of applying his skillset to a safer, more ethical line of work. So he became something of a private investigator. His skills of remaining undetected and getting into places he shouldn't proved to be quite useful, as he followed men and women whose spouses thought they were cheating, spied on employees whose bosses suspected of stealing, and solved more than a few cases that the city guards themselves had been unable to handle. He soon gained a reputation as someone who could find out anything.

But the idea of spending all his time in a city doing the same work began to feel a bit dull. He also feared that his reputation was getting [i]too[/i] good - Thentia wasn't that far away, after all. What if word spread? So, he packed up and left.

He spent the next few years after that traveling around the Moonsea. He would arrive in a settlement, spend several months or maybe even a year there doing work, and then once he had experienced everything the city had to offer and was secure in his financial situation, he would journey to the next city down the road. In particularly lean times when jobs were hard to find, he would resort back to thievery to keep himself fed and comfortable. Sometimes he would get into brushes with the law, while other times he would become the target of corrupt nobles or gangs that he came close to uncovering.

During this time, he also started worshiping Tymora. His mother had never raised him to be religious, but it only seemed fitting for someone in his position and skill set to follow the goddess of luck and change.

Eventually his travels took him all the way to Hulsburg, which he arrived in only recently. Having only been there for a few days, he once again faces the challenge of starting fresh in a brand new city. Fortunately, it is a challenge that he has gotten quite used to - although the city's close proximity to Thentia is somewhat unnerving, despite the fact that his name has likely been forgotten already.