[hider=Gareth Arenar]
Name: Gareth Arenar

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Appearance (no picture): Gareth stands at an imposing six foot five, with short black hair and some stubble in the way of facial hair. He has a light skin tone with a slight tan to it, and cold blue eyes. There is a thin scar running from under his left eye to the bottom of his cheek. His nose is slightly longer than most people's, but overall he is quite handsome. Moving down to the rest of his body, Gareth has an impressive build, well-muscled from over a decade of training.

As for equipment, Gareth is clad in a layer of steel chainmail, over which he wears a cuirass (chestplate), spaulders (shoulder plates), gauntlets, and greaves (knee and shin guards.) He also wears a pair of steel boots, and has a faceless steel helmet with a sharp spike rising two inches from the top of his head. He carries with him a round steel shield, wrapped in a layer of leather and kept securely on his back. A black cloak shields him from the elements, and a traveler's pack carries the necessities of an adventurer.

Sheathed across his back is an ornate two-handed steel longsword with a gilded hilt, and the sigil of his house - a flaming fist - set in the crossguard. This is his family sword, [i]Fury[/i]. The enchantment only enables it to be activated by someone descended from House Arenar. Once activated, the blade erupts into flame, though the fire does not warp or otherwise weaken the metal - another property of the enchantment. The enchantment can still burn the wielder, however, so it must be used with care. The wielder has the power to turn it on and off at will, though the blade will certainly still be hot afterwards.

His second weapon is an ordinary arming sword, sheathed at his right hip, that can be drawn should [i]Fury[/i] be lost or discarded. Finally, he also has a simple dirk that he keeps in a sheathe on his boot.

Personality: Stern and serious, Gareth can be a stickler for the law and has a strong sense of justice, having been wronged in the past and stripped of what should be his by right. He is loyal to the greater good or those who are loyal to him. Despite his noble blood, he is not prejudiced to the lower classes - if anything, he often finds their company preferable. He is quite cynical and pessimistic, but courageous and unflinching on the battlefield. Despite his rather serious nature, there are occasional moments of levity, and he does have some respect or even admiration for idealists. He is also quite fond of animals. Overall, though, he can be a hard man to like for those who cannot look past his blunt manner of speaking.

Role/Title: Former noble guard captain. Sword and shield warrior, with strong leadership and tactical acumen.

History: The Arenars were a wealthy and influential House located in the capital city of the Kingdom of Sorus. They were descended from a lowborn warrior who was rewarded with a title after a long and excellent service record. Though they had no castle of their own, instead keeping a manor in the wealthiest district of their city, they had made a fortune off investments, property ownership, their own personal fleet of trading ships, and had the ear of the King himself. How they came that far from a landless war veteran is somewhat dubious.

Gareth was their heir.

The eldest of three, Gareth could rest secure in the knowledge that he would one day inherit the family title. Unfortunately, he had little interest in economics - though he paid close attention to his lessons and rarely disappointed his tutors, he was much more interested in swordplay and history, tasks which he took to with much more enthusiasm. He spent many of his hours training under the master of arms, or sequestered in the library bent over a book. He became skilled with both blade and shield, and was quite taken in by the stories of old - both fact and fiction.

At the same time, he also dug up records of his family's old business dealings. He never found anything illegal, of course, but some of the dealings were rather... unjust. Finding a much-needed project in heavy demand and then charging a fortune for it that most could barely even afford. Forming a deal with a prospective business partner, but creating some sort of loophole that ended up excluding them from the agreement. He questioned his father about them, but his father merely said it was the nature of business. 

Even as a young teenager, that did not sit well with him. No, he decided. That was not what their House would be known for. Not under him, at least. He continued training and studies, but also thought of ways to bring his house prestige without suspicious business practices. Perhaps take them back to their martial roots...

Then, around the time he turned nineteen, his father fell terribly ill at the age of forty-five. He lingered on for weeks in a coma, until finally the sickness claimed him. Despite their disagreements, Gareth spent every moment with him that he could, his brother and sister stopping in to pay their respects as well. After the death, the funeral inevitably came, and the will was red aloud.

Gareth had been disowned.

The news had struck him like a crossbow bolt in the heart. Afterwards, he could only wonder why his father had done it. Had his father disapproved of his plans for their House that much? He didn't even recall discussing his plans, come to think of it, but the questions he asked had likely indicated such. Did his father simply like Edric, his younger brother and next-in-line, better? He was certainly more personable, that much was certain, but he could not wield a blade to save his life and always came across as somewhat lazy.

And so the title was passed to his seventeen year-old younger brother, who regretfully offered his condolences but made no effort to restore his status. Gareth was completely and utterly lost, but he had to do something with his life. After perhaps a week of deliberation, he joined the city guard.

He was well-suited to the work, he realized, his years of professional training and formal education putting him above the other fresh recruits, allowing him to stand out in the eyes of his officers. When they learned of his noble blood they became even more accommodating towards him, despite his disowned status. He also began to see his first real taste of fighting - not on the battlefield, but in back-alleys, against muggers and gutter rats who fought without honour. He soon discovered that he had to abandon honour as well, for in such an environment it was only a weakness.

He quickly rose through the ranks. He was good to his equals, inferiors, and superiors alike, and did not discriminate based on birth. Though he was not loved, he was respected and admired. At the age of twenty-four, he reached the rank of Captain.

Only two weeks after his promotion, another captain - his former commanding officer, with whom he had developed a strong mutual respect - pulled him aside. There were whispers that Gareth was involved in a smuggling ring, paid to look the other way while they brought illicit goods into the city. His friends had failed to believe such claims, obviously, but the other captains and the commander himself saw little evidence to dispute this, and there were plenty of lieutenants who would love to see an opening in the higher ranks. The guards would turn against him, in time. His friend told him when they would make their arrest. When that day came, Gareth made sure that he was not there.

He was busy confronting his brother.

In the years following his father's death, his suspicions had grown as he went over the issue in his head more and more. It made no sense for him to be disowned so suddenly - they had rarely quarreled, and their differences rarely came up in conversation. Furthermore, his father had been young and healthy despite his sudden illness. Forty-five was not young, but for a noble it did not quite mean one was near the verge of death, so there was little reason to write a will. And since he fell into a coma almost immediately, there was no reason to write it either. His brother had not seemed overly distressed by the development, and was the one who benefited the most. But he could not act without further proof, which there was no way to acquire, and there was no one higher he would take his case to who would believe him.

But now? Immediately after he was promoted to Captain, and began to approach a position of genuine power and influence, there was a move to arrest him for a crime he had not committed. That was the nail in the coffin. He had to find out.

It had been easy enough to incapacitate the household guards. They had grown slow and lazy, patrolling the same house every day in one of the safest areas of the city, without concern that a cutthroat could be lurking around the corner. The master of arms had grown frail and old - Gareth had always found him so strong and unbeatable when he was younger. The servants did not live in the mansion itself. His sister had been married off, so she was not present, which was well enough as there was no evidence of her involvement anyways. That just left his brother to contend with, who was no fighter and easy enough to restrain.

The confrontation was surprisingly tame. Gareth had asked a few questions, threw a few punches, tricked his brother into saying something close to a confession, and then left after leaving his own personal mark. When the houseguards woke up, they found their lord unconscious and bruised with a severe burn on his cheek that would leave a permanent scar, and the family sword had gone missing. According to Lord Edric, his mad older brother had come in, brutally assaulted the guards, and then tortured him. But considering that Edric's wounds were minimal aside from the burn, and Gareth hadn't actually killed anyone, that story was rather doubtful. Still, the fact that Gareth assaulted the home and stole an heirloom could not be disputed; he was a wanted man now.

In a seemingly unrelated case, a horse vanished from one of the stables that same night, a rather generous bag of gold left in its place that more than made up for the theft.

Gareth spent a few weeks traveling the countryside of Sorus, but knowing he would be a wanted man throughout the country, he was forced to travel abroad. He chartered a ship to the Empire of Caradia itself, a much larger nation which was not too culturally distinct from his own homeland, where no one would recognize his family name and no one from home would follow him.

Shortly after his arrival, he heard a decree about some sort of mission for the Emperor, against strange creatures. With nowhere to go and nothing to do, he could only take that as some sort of sign and follow it. Perhaps he could make a name for himself serving under this new monarch, and find some new purpose in driving back this evil.

Anything extra: He has a black horse named Diligence.
[/hider]