Here's my submission, a Pradian blacksmith. Hopefully you guys like him. Let me know of any edits and changes that you need me to make. [hider=Arren Tainer] [center][h1][color=00a651][b]Arren Tainer[/b][/color][/h1] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/77/38/1f/77381fa45166f5493938a63514ba929a--dwarf-smith-stollen.jpg[/img] [h3][color=00a651][b]43 ǀ Male ǀ 6'1" ǀ Blacksmith[/b][/color][/h3] [color=00a651][hr][/color] [/center] [color=00a651][b]Full Name:[/b][/color] Arren Luther Tainer [indent][color=00a651][b]Nicknames:[/b][/color] None [color=00a651][b]Age:[/b][/color] 43 [color=00a651][b]Gender:[/b] Male[/color] [indent][color=00a651][b]Occupation/Class:[/b][/color] Reluctant blacksmith for the Yulian garrison at Midgate[/indent][/indent] [color=00a651][b]Kingdom of Origin:[/b][/color] Pradus [color=00a651][b]Description:[/b][/color] Arren stands at one inch over six feet and weighs in at around 210lbs. For all of his impressive stature, earned from years of beating metal, Arren has a surprisingly soft and friendly face. His dirty blonde hair is usually tied back away from his face so that it can't catch alight, and the thick bushy beard that adorns his square jaw has started to become riddled with grey streaks, as has the sides of his head, a sign of his age. His eyes are a deep brown, his nose is wide and round, and his thin lips are barely visible between the thick banks of facial hair above and below them, yet you can almost always make out his big grin. His arms are thicker than most fighters, tempered by his work, and while his chest is still bulging, his abdomen has begun to swell into a pot belly that gives him a non-threatening, jolly air to his appearance. Normally, Arren will be seen covered in a layer of soot and dirt. His hands are rough and horribly calloused, and his upper arms are marred with small burn marks from stray sparks and embers. He walks with a slight limp after breaking his left leg exploring one of the abandoned mines as a youngster, an injury that entirely ruled out any chances of him becoming a soldier. [color=00a651][b]Equipment:[/b][/color] As a smith, Arren sees no need of armour or weapons. Apart from when the Yulians invaded his town, Arren is normally as far away from the fighting as possible. Still, since that day he has carried a small steel dagger at his waist, just in case. For his attire he is normally in thick-soled leather boots, simple trousers and shirt, covered by his dirty, thoroughly worn apron. Brown leather gloves sometimes protect his hands, if he can be bothered to put them on. He carries a leather knapsack with him to and from the forge, containing his most important personal tools, such as the hammer and tongs given to him by his late father and a crude iron file shaped by his eldest daughter. Aside from that, he carries nought else but a scarcely full coin purse and often a bottle of something strong and alcoholic. [color=00a651][b]Personality:[/b][/color] Arren used to be a happy, ever-smiling man, quick to make terrible japes and puns, and always heard to be laughing. He was a high-spirited fellow, always looking for the bright side of any situation and making sure others knew their worth and value. That man is still in there, somewhere. However, he is now overshadowed by a much more sombre, world-weary individual. After the destruction of his home town and the separation of his family, Arren is a man embittered, with a deep loathing of Yulia and all its folk. While flashes of his old self can often be seen, normally after a flagon or two, he tends to keep to himself. He has next to no friends in this strange new place, spending his days trudging from home, to work, to the bar, then back home again in a never ending cycle of constant sorrow and misery. He normally has little to say to people nowadays, and spend his time longing for his family, and praying to any god that will listen that one day he will find them safe and sound. He has a particular soft spot for children. [color=00a651][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [indent][list][*][color=00a651][b]Weaponsmith[/b][/color] [indent][I]Arren is skilled at crafting weapons of all shapes and sizes, and is also proficient at repairing most forms of damage and maintaining them properly. One of his main jobs for the Yulian garrison has been personally seeing that every sword is sharp and ready.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Armorsmith[/b][/color] [indent][I]Arren's primary trade. He can manufacture strong and lightweight armour to fit any individual for almost any task. Be it heavy plate for a Knight, or lightweight mail for an archer, or even just a few pads for a hunter, Arren is the man to make, repair and maintain any armour needed.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Leatherworking[/b][/color] [indent][I]While certainly not a master, Arren is competent enough to correctly tan and work leather to make weapon handles, lightweight armour pads, pouches, scabbards, and armour decoration and warmth. Something like making a suit of leather amour, however, mat be beyond him.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Woodworking[/b][/color] [indent][I]Arren is skilled enough as a woodworker to fletch arrows, bows and shields. The items he makes are not extravagant or perfect but they are dependable and of a reasonable quality. Mending damaged items, however, is far more difficult, so Arren tends to craft an entirely new one instead.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Friendly[/b][/color] [indent][I]Arren has an air about him that just makes him likeable. He rarely has a bad word to say of anyone, apart from the Yulians, and if he does it's usually in between a dozen good ones. People find it easy to get along with Arren and to trust the grizzled old smith.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Hollow Leg[/b][/color] [indent][I]Arren can drink. He can really, really drink. Even more so now that he's in Midgate, where regular drinking is a must to ease his pain and suffering.[/I][/indent][/list][/indent] [color=00a651][b]Weaknesses:[/b][/color] [indent][list][*][color=00a651][b]Alcoholic[/b][/color] [indent][I]Since he arrived in Midgate, Arren has been drinking more and more. Drinking to forget, mostly. After a few drinks, he can be the man he once was, relaxed and easy going. In a world as cruel and dark as this, he can personally see no problem with his dependence on the good stuff.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Damaged Leg[/b][/color] [indent][I]When he was 10, Arren and his two brothers went exploring in an abandoned mine shaft in Pradus. Arren, the youngest of the three, and eager to impress, ventured where he shouldn't have, and consequently slipped form a ledge, much to his older brothers' amusement. Until they noticed his left shin bone sticking out of his leg. As a result, Arren limps, and struggles to run without tiring after a very short distance.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Guilty Conscience[/b][/color] [indent][I]Arren hates himself for failing to protect his family from the Yulian invaders, and for not trying to fight them. He sees the separation from his family as his punishment for cowardice, and blames himself entirely for all that has transpired before.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Bad Fighter[/b][/color] [indent][I]It's not that Arren was scared of fighting. He just never saw the need. Why would you want to hurt another person? Can't we all just get along? As a youngster he never trained to fight, and subsequently has next to zero skill with a blade, although he could use his hammer as a weapon in a pinch. His attitude has changed drastically now, and he hates himself for being so naïve and foolish.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Chatterbox[/b][/color] [indent][I]Arren always has a story to tell, or a joke to make. He'll bend the ear of anyone that will listen. It's not bad enough to make anyone hate him, but it certainly does get annoying from time to time.[/I][/indent] [*][color=00a651][b]Ill Health[/b][/color] [indent][I]Aside from the gammy leg, the alcoholism and years of breathing in forge smoke have left Arren in a bad state health-wise. He often coughs up blood and has trouble with headaches, and has begun to go deaf in one ear after years of hearing the hammer beat.[/I][/indent] [/list][/indent] [color=00a651][b]Fatal Flaw:[/b][/color] Arren would do anything to have his family back, and to see them alive and well. even if it meant giving up his own life, Arren would do it in a heartbeat to secure the safety and happiness of his wife, brothers and daughters. [center][color=00a651][b][h3]Brief History[/h3][/b][/color] Arren was born in a small town on the edge of Pradus, near the border with Yulia. He was one of three sons born of the town blacksmith, Luther Tainer, from whom all three sons take their middle name. Arren's two older brothers, Stefan and Nicolas, were 5 and 2 years older than him respectively. Their father was a family man, and was adamant that all three of his sons would learn his craft and inherit his place, continuing the line of great Pradian craftsmen. Stefan learned the ways of the alchemist, and Nicolas became a master weaver and clothier, while Arren became a master smith. All three brothers grew up together, sharing the strongest of brotherly bonds. When their father passed away at the age of 58, the three brothers set up business together, running a craft store that would eventually dispatch bespoke goods to castles and towns across Pradus. When Arren was 31, he married his girlfriend of seven years, a pretty baker named Lina. She was a blonde haired, blue eyed beauty, and Arren loved her more than life itself. He thought it wasn't possible to ever love anything more, until the birth of his first daughter when he was 32. Named Katlyn for his wife's late grandmother, who'd raised her in place of her mother who died during childbirth. Three years later, a second daughter was born unto them, named Raina. Arren was living the life of his dreams, happily building upon his father's legacy, happily married with a wife he loved and two kids he adored. The girls often helped Arren and his brothers around the shop, learning from all 3, although both took a fancy to their uncle Nicolas' clothing. On his 40th birthday the girls, aged 8 and 5, presented him with a shabby metal file. They had gone behind his back and, with his brother's help, made something he could use in the forge, so that even if they weren't there, they could help him with his work. He currently carries it as his most prized possession. Recently, everything changed. The sudden rise of Yulia came at a great cost to Arren and his family. As a border town, his was one of the first hit. Dozens of his friends were killed and captured in the surprise onslaught. Many of the townsfolk fled into the mine, where they were kept until the starvation either killed them or forced them to surrender. Arren and his family, as renowned Pradian craftsmen, were kept alive. Only by offering his willing service was Arren able to spare the lives of his family. The last he saw, his wife and daughter were in chains in the back of a cart, heading to god only knows where. His brothers were sent to different Yulian settlements to employ their services. Arren was sent with the Yulian garrison to Midgate. In Midgate, Arren has been working for the Yulian soldiers, maintaining and mending their weapons and armour and helping craft new defences for the fortification of the town. He has been deliberately leaving faults, subtle ones as to go unnoticed, like part sharpening blades or improperly hardening them, his own way of fighting the war against the Yulians, until he comes up with a plan to reunite his family. For now, however, he lives in a perpetual cycle of misery in the oppressed town of Midgate. [/center][/hider]