[hider=Eovaine]
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[b]Name:[/b] 
Eovaine

[b]Gender: [/b]
Male
  
[b]Age:[/b] 
135
  
[b]Race:[/b]
Mûl Elf

[b]Appearance:[/b]
Eovaine is average height for a Mûl elf with dark blond hair that falls to his waist. His face is angular with a pointed chin, high cheekbones, and somewhat hollowed cheeks. Golden eyes peer out from underneath thick eyebrows that seem to always be turned down in a perpetual frown, and his ears are overly long, fanning out on either side of his head. 
  
[b]Personality:[/b]
One would assume upon seeing Eovaine that he is a rigid individual with an incredible amount of self discipline. However, that isn't really the case with this particular elf. Despite his stoic face, Eovaine is a humorous individual with a very laid-back attitude and the only sort of self discipline he shows is keeping himself from getting too many women in his bed (human females have a strange attraction to foreigners and he uses that to his advantage). He has a strong personality, often wanting to be the center of attention and loves when all eyes are on him. Being a hero thus works wonderfully in his favour.
  
[b]History:[/b]
Eovaine was born into a family of mercenaries. Although he never quite picked up the mercenary lifestyle, he enjoyed it nonetheless. His childhood was often filled with uncles and aunts that had extremely colourful personalities and would often steal him away on adventures when his parents weren't looking. As Eovaine grew, he learned at a youthful age the harshness of the world while on an expedition with a small team they were all, save for Eovaine, killed in a freak accident. Strong, hardened elves and men gone in an instant before they could react. 

This struck Eovaine and he sought to change whatever of the world he could in anyway he was able to. Often he would go into small towns and hamlets where the folk would tell him of some official, or some stuck up small noble who would take more from the people than they had, or had in some way abused them. He would then take it upon himself to threaten the official or nobleman to fix their ways or he'd return; for the especially nasty he would make disappear and make the people elect a new official.
  

[b]Equipment:[/b]
[list]
[*]Steel hauberk over a hardened leather vest
[*]Ancestral cloak
	An heirloom from his father, this beige cloak looks as though it were made from thousands of autumn leaves that appear to fly off every time a gust passes through it; one would think the cloak is flimsy and brittle, but some sort of ancient magic makes it sturdier and warmer than it should be.
[*]Twin steel scimitars
[*]Sword belt
[*]Studded leather knee-high boots and leather gloves
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[hider=Example Post]
With the last customer finally out of the bakery, the woman walked around her counter and into the back room where she snuffed out the stone-oven fire and put every utensil in its place. Some minutes later she walked back to the front and turned off the lantern lights before heading out and locking up. She stood there for a moment, the key still in its hole and her head on the wooden door. This place would have to close down soon, she knew, and it hurt her that she couldn't afford to keep this place open any longer. For generations this place would make the best pie, and now, because of her failed business plan, her family legacy would no longer exist.

"Hey!"

The woman looked up sharply and squealed as she tried to stifle a shrill scream. She took a moment to catch her breath and looked back up. "Eovaine, you bastard! What are you doing up there?"

"I came for some pie."

She stared at him. "I'm closed."

"Open up, then. I want pie."

"Get it from somewhere else, there are countless other bakeries open this late."

"Yes, well. They don't make pie like you do, and I need my fix."

"You need your fix," she muttered shaking her head as she took out the key and walked away. "I'm closed. And I doubt I'll be open much longer."

"You don't have to worry about that," he said following her from the rooftops. "Not anymore at least."

She stopped and looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"I took care of it."

"You took care of it?"

"I took care of it," he nodded.

She looked at him open mouthed. "What? How?"

He shrugged. "I know people. And I didn't want my favourite pie place to shut down... so."

"How'd you even know?"

He smiled then jumped down from the rooftops, landing silently and walked up to her. A sudden dangerous aura emanating from him. "I don't let stuck up bankers decide when it's time to shut down my favourite pie-place." Then he backed up and walked towards the bakery. "So, as a reward, bake me some pie."

She rolled her eyes and walked back, smiling despite herself. "Fuck you, Eovaine."

He grinned. The bastard.
[/hider]
  
Other: Eovaine has an unhealthy obsession with pie. 
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