[hider=Kaseem Akz Duwabir]
[center][h2][i][color=1b1464]Kaseem Akz Duwabir[/color][/i][/h2]
[img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/d6/ea/ae/d6eaaed3dc732054c9d145ef5dd171b5.jpg[/img]
[color=1b1464][i][h2]"What I was denied in life, I now seek in death"[/h2][/i][/color][/center]

[center][h3][i][color=1b1464]Profile[/color][/i][/h3][/center]
[b]Full Name:[/b] Kaseem Akz Duwabir
[b]Titles/Nicknames:[/b] The Lord Duwabir, Thakur Duwabir
[b]Age:[/b] 44 years since birth, died aged 29.
[b]Race:[/b] Undead, previously Sariyan.
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Combat Role:[/b] Agile Duelist.

[b]Hair Color:[/b] N/A, previously black
[b]Eye Color:[/b] N/A, previously brown, a faint blue glow can be seen to emanate from his empty eye sockets in low lighting. 
[b]Height:[/b] 5 feet and 11 inches.
[b]Weight:[/b] 165 pounds in life, 35 pounds in death.

[b]Appearance:[/b] Kaseem seldom shows his face to world, only when completely alone would he ever remove the long flowing dark robes that cover his body from head to toe. A hooded veil covers his face also, leaving only the tinniest of slits for him to peer out from. His hands are covered with gloves of fine black silk, and his feet are adorned in satin slippers of sable. A silver gilt belt loosely encircles his narrow waist, studded with sapphires and jet from the mines of his homeland. Upon his brow an equally fine coronet rests again made of swirling silver and luminous moonstones. Beneath this finery however, lurks a much more unsavoury truth.

Kaseem is rotted down to bones beneath his shroud. His once tanned comely face and head of thick dark hair has all fallen away and revealed a grinning, bone white skull. His muscles have wasted away to nothing, not even sinews remain to string his body together. A darker art serves to fulfil that role, and evidence of its practice can be seen carved into what remains of Kaseem's body. Sinister runes writen in ancient Sariyan mark his lonely bones, rippling and glowing with some unnatural power as they hold Kaseem together. This is power is what sustains Kaseem, and it is also the power which curses him.

[center][h3][i][color=1b1464]Personality[/color][/i][/h3][/center]
[b]Overview:[/b] In life Kaseem was arrogant, he was flamboyant, and he was vain as he was beautiful. But death, or rather his return from it, has robbed him of much of what defined him. It has transformed a confident warrior, who would have once laughed in the face of any foe, to one who can barely look at his own face in the mirror. Kaseem is aware of his visage, and the effects it has on others outside of his distant homeland, and his internalised so much of it. He shrinks away from others, from physical contact, and hides behind masks and veils in a desperate attempt to pretend to others that he is not what he is. 

He was also a sensual and passionate man once, but all pleasures of flesh are denied to those who rise from a true grave. The only thing that he has to hold onto now, is the arena. The roar of the crowds, the joy found in battling a truly worthy opponent. His loves, his pleasure, his very flesh has all been taken from him. There is only the glory of the arena, and perhaps, the promise of another death - one that is true and honourable.

But he is not a monster that cannot see further than killing and death, contrary to what many of other nations believe about the nature of the undead. He does not feed on virgin blood or baby bones. He is not cruel, but the distance that his existence has created between him and others can make it seem so. People have become almost as strange to him as he is to most people, and therefore he can seem unemphatic or inconsiderate. Kaseem is forgetting what it is like to be human, he knows this, and it is one of his greatest fears.

There is great sadness in this corpse, of what was lost, of what could have been. Unbearable sadness. But there is perhaps hope too, hope of meaning and of glory.

[center][h3][i][color=1b1464]Combat[/color][/i][/h3][/center]

[b]Strength:[/b] 1
[b]Dexterity:[/b] 9
[b]Intelligence:[/b] 7
[b]Cunning:[/b] 5
[b]Magic:[/b] 1
[b]Willpower:[/b] 5
[b]Endurance:[/b] 7
[b]Charisma:[/b] 0

[b]Weapons of Choice:[/b] Kaseem primarily uses two weapons in combat. In his right hand he wields a wickedly curved blade that broadens towards the tip with a small cross guard on its hilt. In his left he wields a short [url=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/18/Pata-1-Archit-Patel.jpg/1200px-Pata-1-Archit-Patel.jpg]pata[/url] gauntlet sword with stiff and narrow blade. Both are richly decorated with brass work and etched blades that are kept wickedly sharp.

At his side Kaseem carries two knives, one with broad curved cutting blade, and another with a stiletto point.

[b]Armor/Combat Apparel:[/b] When in the arena as in life, Kaseem covers himself from head to toe to disguise his condition, but is combat attire is much less flowing and more revealing of his emaciated state. In order to counteract this, Kaseem enters the arena padded with sack cloth and straw in order to give the impression of a living body. Over his black linens he wears a knee length shirt of silvery Sariyan ring mail, drawn in at the waist with a golden sash. A pair of gilded pauldrons grace his shoulders, and matching vambraces adorn his wrists. His helm is open faced in the southern fashion, with at its zenith and more golden cloth wrapped around its rim. His face is disguised by a veil of gold and silver mail that is attached to the helm's rim and rests upon Kaseem's shoulders.

[b]Fighting Style:[/b] Kaseem as fast and as swift as any fighter. He likes to run rings around his opponents, slashing at them with curved blade, wearing them down until they are tired and injured, before rushing in for a killing thurst with his pata. He can dodge, sidestep and lunge with lightening speed and terrifying ferocity, but this masks his great underlying weakness - he will collapse under any powerful blow.

He must dodge everything, and avoid being struck at all costs, as his light and brittle bones stand no chance against a strike from a two handed polearm, a mace, an axe, or even a large enough sword. Percussive damage will destroy him. But light slashes, or thrusts are useless against him. Kaseem has to blood to spill, the only way to defeat him is to crush him or hack him into pieces. However, as long as Kaseem can dance just outside of his opponents range he has the power. He does not tire, he does not get distracted by thirst or hunger, or any other bodily function, he can be patient and wait for his opening. 

He is at his strongest in a one on one duel, where he can focus solely on his opponent and does not run the risk of being taken unawares. He is weaker in mass melees, especially against long pole weapons, and if trapped against a wall or corner of the arena stands next to no chance of escaping.   

[center][h3][i][color=1b1464]Background[/color][/i][/h3][/center]
[b]Place of Birth:[/b] Ghanahdpur, an upriver city in Sariya
[b]Social Status:[/b] In Sariya he was once a member of minor nobility and a near champion of the arenas. But he is outcast now, and is forced to hide his nature in a foreign land.

[b]History:[/b] Kaseem Akz Duwabir was the first born son of Thakur Bruhier Akz Duwabir, a landed noble of Ghanahdpur. The city sat on the river Ghanadhd, which flowed into the Saheled and then to the sea, in the northern reaches of Sariya. It was drier and dustier than many other Sariyan cities, as it was on the southern coasts, but deeper into the interior deserts and mountains. The land was poor, and little was scraped out from it, so depite being a noble, Kaseem was not born to luxury. They were well off, but not rich, and his family had worked hard to make their lands profitable and fertile through irrigation. There were two sources of splendour in Ghanahdpur, the diamond mines, and the arena. 

Slaves for the mines were always needed in Ghanahdpur and so there was never a shortage of stock for the arena. The city had one of most active arenas in all the country, and local Raja made it his business to hold some of the most magnificent games in living memory there during Kaseem's youth. And like a moth to the flame, Kaseem was enthralled by life of gladiator. 

From a young age it was all he ever talked of, and fighting was all he ever trained in. His father wanted him to take up the mantle of a noble, and manage his lands and fields for when the elder  Duwabir was no longer there to do so. But Kaseem wanted the arena, the fame, the glory, the title of champion. Against his father's wishes he sought it out, and he was good at it. Kaseem triumphed many times on the sands of every arena in Sariya, he became respected all, and he became adored by some. He had the makings of champion of all of Sariya within him, it was clear, with all his speed and skill and strength, the title could have easily been his given time.

But it was not to be.

Kaseem died in disgrace, outside of the arena, and there was no magic to return him whole. But return he did. A sorcerer who had been one of those who adored the handsome and dashing young gladiator more than any other fan retrieved his bones and worked the ancient spells to return a living as an undead. The undead have a place of honour in Sariya, they are ambassadors of the God Akzum, proof of the love he bears his children. But Kaseem scorned his return from the afterlife. He killed the sorcerer to resurrected him, and fled to the deserts of Sariya as a wanted man.

There he lived for many years, apart from all others save the few other undead which choose to wander in that desolate place. But in this time, this retreat the world, he remember what drove him life and found new resolve to go forth into the world of men again. He would become a champion of the arenas once more, but not in Sariya, from whence he was exiled, but in another land. So he travelled north, to the Empire Venatria. He disguised himself, and bought a slave who could read Sariyan in order to communicate with the world. For the last few years he has tried to join Gladiator houses across the empire with little luck, and has fought in the arena on occassion by himself. The games at Apulum have drawn him to them as so many others have, Kaseem is still just a moth to their flame.

[/hider]


[hider=Tahir][center][h2][i][color=f7941d]Tahir[/color][/i][/h2]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/qGINyB9.png[/img]
[color=f7941d][i][h2]"I serve Lord Duwabir"[/h2][/i][/color][/center]

[center][h3][i][color=f7941d]Profile[/color][/i][/h3][/center]
[b]Full Name:[/b] Tahir
[b]Titles/Nicknames:[/b] Slave, boy etc
[b]Age:[/b] 14
[b]Race:[/b] Human, Sariyan
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Combat Role:[/b] N/A Assistant to Kaseem Akz Duwabir

[b]Hair Color:[/b] Dark brown
[b]Eye Color:[/b] Brown
[b]Height:[/b] 5 feet and 2 inches
[b]Weight:[/b] 110lbs

[b]Appearance:[/b] Tahir is an adolescent boy on the smaller and skinnier end of the spectrum for his age. His complexion is relatively light for a Sariyan, perhaps hinting an ancestor to come from other shores. His hair is brown and somewhat unkempt and is not yet old enough for a shadow of beard on either is lip nor chin. He is reasonably comely for a boy his age, although this is somewhat marred by large scar red scar that runs across his nose, which has clearly been broken at some point during his past. However, his smile has warmth to it still and his eyes don't have the dull look of slave that has been beaten into nothing by their masters. 

He dresses plainly in undyed linens and a red jerkin, with sandals on his feet. They are commoners clothes, but not filthy rags. 

[center][h3][i][color=f7941d]Personality[/color][/i][/h3][/center]
[b]Overview:[/b] Tahir has lived a strange life, and it has left him a strange boy. He is a contradiction in many ways, a cautious and reserved boy, who can fierce and brave when challenged, and yet can open up with such endearing vulnerability in a way that only those who are not fully adults can. He has lived a hard life, from the streets of Meroa, to the slave markets of Venatria, but its has not broken his spirit or stunted him beyond repair. He should angry and enraged at this life, and sometimes he is, but it has never taken his smile nor the sparkle in his young eyes.

While he suspicious and reserved to those who does not know, there is one person he trusts absolutely, his master Kaseem Akz Duwabir, a monster who is one of the few people who has shown him kindness. He is loyal to his master, but there is an unruly nature within him, and a heart that will one day wish to follow its own path. A heart that will undoubtedly lead to conflict with his position as a slave.

[center][h3][i][color=f7941d]Background[/color][/i][/h3][/center]
[b]Place of Birth:[/b] Meroa, Sariya
[b]Social Status:[/b] Slave

[b]History:[/b] Tahir was born on the streets of Meroa, the son of prostitute who's birthing bed was also her death bed. While some of the other whores did try to care for him, a brothel is no place to raise a child, and mostly he came and went as he pleased. Sometimes he would sleep on one of the pallets in the back and sometimes he would sleep on the streets. Sometimes it was safer there, because those who frequented the gutter brothels were not always picky in their partners...

He stole and he fought with the other urchins and beggars that live beneath the golden towers of the richest city of the known world. But it was not a life that could last long, not in country with so many mines that needed so many slaves. He was caught by guard aged eleven stealing fruit from a merchants wagon, he had no coin to pay the fine, so his life became forfeit instead. He would have gone to mines save for one thing, he could read and write Sariyan. Not all those who lived in the gutters had been whores and beggars, some had once learned or great men of Sariya. One of those was a blind navigator called Jarrah, he could not ply is trade with no sight, but he had scraped coppers as a teacher of the streets, and thankfully for Tahir one of the whores had once sat him down at Jarrah's side to learn what he could of script. 

It saved him from the mines, but it did not save him from the life of a slave. He was taken north on a ship to Venatria, he nearly died to thirst and hunger on the journey, but Tahir made it to the market. It was there that he met the man who has owned by for nearly three years now, a man named Kaseem Akz Duwabir. Kaseem needed someone who could understand what he wrote, and Tahir was the cheapest slave that could do so. They communicate through notes upon a slate, Kaseem understands Venatrian well enough but cannot write it. He taught the boy to be his mouth, to tend to his horse, to help dress him for the arena. Slowly Tahir learned to trust this silent strange corpse, and can now speak Ventarian with a somewhat broken, yet serviceable accent. He has followed his master to the games of Apulum where fortune has taken them to seek the arena once more. [/hider]