Name: Arleon Baristol
Title: None
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Class: Dread Necromancer

[b]Physical Appearance[/b]
Arleon is clad in masterwork quality scale mail with a dark hood over his head. His hair is middle-length, touching the back of his neck with a couple of locks draping over his left eye. He bears a spear with a dark metal tip and a solid dark wood staff. He is pale with slightly sunken eyes bearing the vision of exhaustion along the base of his eyes. His eyes are a deep sea blue with darker blue cores around the center black pupil.

[b]Personality[/b]
Arleon is driven by a desire to command and master his own fate. The concept of servitude is appalling unless it serves the purpose of helping him along to his own goal. In such cases, he will tolerate a chain of command or even an organization with resources. He finds pleasure in solitude and enjoys researching his art, dark as it may be to some. The study of corpses and the dead brings a fascination one could exclaim to a child near candy.
 
[b]Motivation[/b]
Arleon desires to achieve his own sense of immortality through mastering the powers of the necromantic arts. 

[b]History[/b]
Arleon was an orphan child from parents slaughtered by raiders. He was taken in by a violent and disturbed magician who fancied himself fantastic in his ways. Using the desperation of a youthful Arleon, this man traveled far to perform as Arleon stole a coin from the onlooking crowds. No rings, necklaces, of fanciful things. Simply coin. Straight and simple.

On one fateful day, Arleon happened to steal from a person who was also being murdered by the man next to him. In the panic-stricken crowd, Arleon was found with the weapon at his feet and blood on his hands, though the small boy had actually tried to help. He was disowned by the magician and carried off by the guard.

Per the laws of the state, Arleon was fifteen and well over their considered age of concession. He was sentenced to die in two days. During his time in his cell, be found himself praying to whoever would listen. Pleading for mercy at any cost. The morning before his fate drew to a close, a young woman who had taken pity on him sought to bring him one last meal.

Before her arrival, Arleon woke to the presence of a spear in his cell with a marking upon it as if burned into the wood. He did not question and simply obtained the weapon, ready to strike and flee. As the door opened, his spear struck true...through the woman's chest and through her heart.

A tear rolled down her cheek as he caught her. What mere moments she had left we spent looking into his sorrow filled, guilt-ridden eyes. She whispered 'run' into his ear, knowing his folly was true without a vindictive nature and wishing to see him succeed in freeing himself from his wrongful imprisonment.

After she passed, he grasped the spear and ran in a rage. As he cut down two guards along the way, the spear seemed to collect the blood but he paid no attention. As he reached the back border wall, he faced solid stone between himself and freedom. With so many deaths, he would be certain. A whisper riddled in his ear and, for one many would call folly, he struck at the stone with the spear. The stone erupted in an explosion as the blood soaked into the weapon.

Realizing the spear was no simply gift...and the cost of his freedom...Arleon fled with every intention to learn more of this dark power and pray to whoever brought him his freedom. However, his faith in such religion did not last. During his tenure within the order, Arleon was dismissed many times for his questioning. Eventually, he left the order, swearing to serve their dark god, but in his own way.

[b]Equipment[/b]
- Masterwork Scale Mail
- Masterwork Longspear
- Pouch of silver and copper coin
- Trinkets, survival gear, general equipment

[b]Strengths[/b]
An intimidating force he uses to his advantage on the battlefield and in negotiations.
Moderate melee combat skills coupled with moderate arcane magic.

[b]Weakness[/b]
Not a tank
Not a sorcerer
Not a negotiator
Will not harm women unless they strike first

[b]Relationshis[/b]
None