[centre]name: Tasar Addar 
race: Qunari elf hybrid 
age: 25
sex: male
Appearance: 
Tasar is considered a beauty though he tends to try and hide it. Far taller than the average elf, with more muscle he has a history of hiding from noble women due to their comments. With violet eyes and white hair the reaches his mid back, he tries his best to hide his features with a oversized hat. Shaving his horns back every week or so only for them to regrow. 
[img]https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRif9n6DN0DNmNvYVGK8RI6DCvcmBWRPxPfWAh8Jelhqy2gzvdS[/img]

class: 
Rouge (wilderness scout)
Skills: 
Quick hands, Tasar is a excellent lock pick. Though his true skills were that born from his time in the isolated wilderness. A calm mind with animals he can tame most beasts and read their movements alongside the ability to track them. Basic knowledge in herbolgy is what saved his life countless times. 

personality: 
Tasar may be great with animals. But he is terrible at social interaction. Stuttering over words after saying the wrong things he tends to hide under his hat as best he could. Most would think he was intimidating, fierce even due to him towering over his elven kind. Only for the image to be dashed aside at his gentle yet off nature. His greatest problem is his inability to deal with his heritage. Often lying and saying he is simply a cursed elf to avoid hatred that is often reserved for Qunari. Do not put a threat on his or his companion's lives though, he may hate it, but he is far more like a Qunari than he would like to believe. 

History: 
Tasar had a simple life at first. His father an antivian elf that was known for leather crafting. His mother a proud Qunari spy that settled down and had two sons after she was declared a Tal Vashoth for reasons she has never disclosed. Most would think his childhood was hard due to unheard of cross between races. But in fact it was quite peaceful. His father had a small shop stationed in redcliff while his home was beyond the walls. His mother making plenty sure to tell Tasar of the dangers others portrayed for him before he could even walk outside. 
And so, he learned how to be quick, how to hide when someone casted their eyes on him. And eventually covering his horns all together to avoid the judgement that was waiting for him. Yet one time was all it took, travailing to the market a old friend pulled off his hood only for a pair of great horns to be shown through his mane. Tasar has still never forgotten the stares and screams, claims of how he was a Qunari spy and how one even dared the offer of hanging him. 

Running and not looking back, Tasar found himself deep in the wilderness. It was years before someone found him, a old scout by the name of Rodon, saying he was a pitiful thing while he scrounged for food. It was from there that he began training the teen, never asking about his horns, or even caring once Tasar brought it up. 
It would be many years before he ever set foot back into civilization. Tasar staying away while Rodon would go to towns on their travels, sleeping in trees or under brush. Rarely speaking to anyone yet whenever the the occasion arose the poor thing was tongue tied. 
Yet all good things must come to an end. Travelling throughout Fereldan and Orlias took it's tool on the older scout. One false step cause Rodon to fall down a cliff in the storm coast, his body hitting the icy waters never to recover. 
Dragon hunting almost fell into his lap. Alone and no skills to deal with society, Tasar simply continued his travels. His twin blades beating at his sides and bow slung over his back, he seemed to hold an air of a hunter. Bringing down big game and making his own shelters. 
That was until the villagers near by came to him, screaming how they needed help to kill the dragon that began to burn down their home. He didn't know why or how, but he went, travailing down the cliff sides and joining those who tried to take it down. Yet he was the only one to make it out alive. 
Yet when he hunted the thing, the roar, the grace, the sheer power was intoxicating, and it was something he has never given up. 
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