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[indent]Boen Keld[/indent]

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[indent]25[/indent]

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[indent]Male[/indent]

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[indent]Single[/indent]

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[indent]Sellsword/Bodyguard[/indent]

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[indent][color=brown][b]Earth[/b][/color] Boen is adept in his earth abilities. Little know that his left arm is actually fashioned in clay for he lost it as a teenager in a duel. He can create a cast out of clay to mimic his actual appearance. It guards his skin against cuts, slashes, and mild burns. He can even make duplicates of himself on the battlefield to act as decoys. While they are immobile and solidly stand in place, in the heat of the moment, not too many combatants can tell him apart from the fake thing. He can encase his body in dirt and submerge beneath the earth to reappear to catch an enemy off-guard.[/indent]

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[indent]Boen, during the day, is always wearing black, medium plate armor with hard-boiled leathers. His armor is simple with no ornate colors or decor. He is covered from head to toe, his helm having a nose piece that goes down the bridge of his nose, and a vented face mask. At his hip is a stone bar that is his primary weapon. Out of armor, usually during the night and when he is off-duty, Boen wears the clothes of a commoner. White, wool tunic and black wool trousers with goat skin moccasins. For being not the most friendly of men, he is handsome outside his armor. He has a well-practiced resting-bitch face to keep giddy women and riff-raff from bothering him. The sellsword stands at 6'2", weighing 171 lbs, with hair as dark as soil and eyes a hazel like the gold sands of the desert. The birthmark on his wrist, he keeps covered up beneath bandages.[/indent]

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[list][*]Scultping
[*]Grog
[*]Gold
[/list]
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[list][*]Jackasses who are all talk
[*]People who talk too much
[*]Cheap and dirty jobs
[/list]
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[indent]Losing limbs or eyesight. Losing a limb has already happened, but he plans not to let it happen again.[/indent]

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[indent]The line of work Boen is involved in requires a man not afraid to kill and definitely one not afraid to hurt someone’s feelings. He has killed men and he has beaten men senseless all for coin. A sellsword isn’t a chivalrous job, and he most of the time doesn’t think about the job. If his employer says “protect me at all costs” and pays him a pretty penny, then Boen will do so without letting his feelings get involved. It is the only way he can perform his role as intended. He can be rough around the edges, and isn’t too social. When he goes to a tavern, he goes to drink in peace and decompress from his day’s work. Anyone who tries to ruin that usually gets to taste his fist. The sellsword is pretty fearless, but at the same time reckless. He will crack a chair over the back of the head of the biggest and meanest guy in the pub without a care. However, the last time he underestimated a guy, he lost his left arm. When he’s off, he’s resting and training. As far as the legend goes because of his line of work, he doesn’t expect to meet his [i]soul mate[/i]. He doesn’t imagine ever finding one, and he couldn’t imagine it happening to him. He just…couldn’t believe it if it did.

Boen hides the mark on his wrist so as not to draw [i]that[/i] kind of attention. While the sellsword isn’t really shy, he just isn’t planning on the whole “destiny thing” happening anytime soon and would actually be bothered if it did. Would he have to protect the person? Was he obligated by fate to be with the person? The soul mate just sounds like a pain in his ass. 

The sellsword never had a formal education, so all of his wit came from personal experience. This also means he isn't well-versed in several subjects so enough of the smarty pants mumbo-jumbo just tell me who you want dead.[/indent]

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[indent]Boen Keld was born to a painted woman known as the Desert Rose. At seven-years-old, his mother wanted him to have a life away from the brothel and so asked one of her johns to take him and raise him as a steward. Boen’s guardian was a knight by the name of Sir Keagan James. Sir James had merely been his mother’s lover, and for her sake, he had done the favor of raising Boen; but Sir James was no knight in shining armor. He was rough on Boen. He treated him like a slave and beated him whenever he failed to complete a task to his liking. One day, Boen got angry and when Sir James was on his horse, he made the earth rise over one of his horse’s hooves. The horse collapsed on Sir James, crushing his leg, and instead of help him, Boen took the opportunity to flee. At ten-years-old, Boen escaped his abusive life and fled back to the only place he knew: the brothel. Cold and bitter reality was revealed to him at an early age then. In the past three years, his mother had been ill. Her unclean life had finally buried her. For the first time ever in his life, Boen had nowhere to go and he nearly had returned to Sir James. The boy instead decided to care for himself. He worked whatever job he could get. He cleaned dishes in the taverns, delivered milk and eggs, and discovered his talent for sculpting. He made extra money selling his work as a side job.

When Boen was fourteen-years-old, he protected one of the tavern wenches from a drunk. He smashed a jug over the drunk’s head, and since that day, he felt inspired to take on [i]manlier[/i] jobs. No more wench work. He picked up a sword and started learning how to use it. At sixteen-years-old, he became a sellsword. It was difficult at first for he was a boy in the eyes of majority of his employers. His competition was older and more seasoned swords. The work was easy at first, but eventually he ran into a situation where he actually had to guard his employer. In a fight with a skilled assassin, Boen lost his arm. He had bitten off more than he could chew and was lucky to have survived. Boen almost left the business for good due to the trauma. During his recovery, he had put the sword down. He wasn’t all that good at it after all. Depressed by his handicap, and how his life seemed to have no happy ending, he tried to drink away his sorrows. He was thrown out of a tavern when they learned he didn’t have money to pay for what he had drank, and while he laid in the gutter hoping to just die, by morning he couldn’t get up. His body was nearly half-buried in the ground, reminding him of his powers. He experimented fashioning himself a new arm from clay, and instead of arming himself with a sword, he decided to arm himself with a stone rod. With his new arm, Boen’s perspective on life was revived. His survival had made him a stronger person, and he intended to see his life through to the very end.

Boen became a better sellsword using his earth power to aid his fighting techniques. He was hired to protect and fight for merchants and nobles. The pay was nice; and now at twenty-five-years-old, his work takes him to the Kingdom of Orewyn, protecting a merchant as he plans to sell roses, chocolate, and wine at the Festival of Destinies.[/indent]

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[indent][b][u]Color[/u]:[/b] [color=brown]Brown[/color]
[b][u]Face Claim[/u]:[/b] Gary Leo Taylor[/indent]