[b]Name[/b]: Meldarion Dragonsbane

[b]Race[/b]: 3/4ths human, 1/4 Elf

[b]Gender[/b]: M

[b]Age[/b]: 32

[b]Personality[/b]: Introverted and introspective, Meldarion doesn't shy from conversation, but by no means enjoys it. Silence is his friend, and he prefers peaceful days on the open road than parties in a tavern. He loses mental energy in most social situations. He has a poetic mind at times, sometimes getting inspiration to paint or write, but most attempts end with him deciding to finish it later.
He tries to be conservative for more than just his benefit. He enjoys blades. The ring of steel and movements that kill. He quite enjoys the twang of the bow as well. Horse back riding is a hobby of his, but most of the time he hasn't the coin for a horse so he walks, which he is fine with. Even if he is generally slow to anger, if you do something he deems beyond his ability to cope with, you're as good as dead. He can lose himself in a calm rage, becoming a a human weapon that is terrifying to behold. His eyes can freeze someone in their tracks, the intent to kill is so powerful. He realizes the potential for harm in this and only increases his preference for solitude.
Meldarion doesn't look for friends, but despite himself he finds people who enjoy his company and he reciprocates at times. He has had no romantic relationships, nor does he ever plan to. Due to his memory loss, he does breathing exercises to keep his stress levels down, doing his best to find peace in a world where his identity must be constructed by he himself. He's gotten a very unamused and colorless view on life most of the time, though a pretty sunset and a swift kill can make him happier. Deep down passed his stoic and severe aura, he has a gentle heart, and tries his best not to kill or hurt unless absolutely necessary. Even if it's what he thinks he's good for, it doesn't always make it right. 

[b]Bio[/b]: Born the bastard son of a Lord through a mixing with a half elf maid, he grew up among his father's hold with his half brothers, ear the city of Meche. His father treated him with a distant love and his father's wife tried her best to hide her disdain for him. His half brothers however treated him as one of their own. His mother was only allowed to see him seldomly, before she was forced to move away on his 8th year of life. He grew up thrust into Knighthood, starting as a page and working his way up to Squire with a natural ability for combat. He was under the tutelage of Sir Bryan at first, before Calador the Elf, a long time friend of his father's, was offered to train him. His father and two of his four brothers were killed in a border dispute, and Meldarion was taken hostage. To his horror, he was sold off to fight for the amusement of others in an Arena. Unfortunately for the hosts, he not only won his freedom, but made a fair reputation for his blade to boot. He was sought out by various Lords and Ladies, and word has it he even slew a small drake, though that was years ago and some rumors have a tendency to...exaggerate. Though Meldarion was never the boastful type and he would not confirm nor deny. Another rumor persisted that, because of his heroics, he was given a beautiful woman's hand in marriage, only for he himself to flee before the ceremony. 

[b]Weapons[/b]:
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[b]Equipment[/b]: 
Scale Mail (supposedly dragon scale. Includes hauberk, guantlets, vambrace, pauldrons, etc.) 
Haggard cloak and tabard, with the insignia long since faded. 
Leather breeches.
Sturdy traveling boots.
Special Skills: 
Swordsmanship 
Horseback riding 
Archery
Poetry and Song writing (though he never voices any aloud) 
Saddle making 
Hunting

[b]Other[/b]: