Name: Draften Targas
Age: 34 (But who is really counting when there are spells to study!)
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Does not really have one.
Class: Sorcerer
Weapon(s): A seemingly ordinary wooden staff, with a dull, grey gem adorning its top. Though looking dull and boring, the staff works as a catalyst for Draften's powers, allowing him to wield it as a weapon. The gem is activated as Draften uses his powers, and takes the colour of whatever element he is wielding. Besides that he uses it as a walking stick. 
Armor: The usual robes of a magician adorns his upper body, along with a pair of leather shoulder-guards. He wears leather wristbands, for reasons best known to himself. Contrary to the usual wizard or magician, he wears light trousers instead of a full, dress-like robe. 
Personal Trinkets: Two necklaces: The first being the sigil of his family, bound to his neck by some unseen force. (Extrapolation on this will follow) The second is another dull grey gem, a little smaller than the one adorning his staff. It lights up when magic is used by its wielder. It has no practical purpose, that is known to Draften. 

[img=http://images4.alphacoders.com/276/276614.jpg]

Short History: 34 years ago, almost to the day, the sounds of a child's cries could be heard from the house of House Targas. The revered Lord Targas and his young wife had finally been granted their first son by the gods. Alas, this was not the son they had asked for. From the moment he was born, it was clear to them that this was no ordinary boy. The first sign was the scar he was born with, as if some demonic entity had attacked him while he was still in his mother's womb.
As the boy grew, his random and sometimes violent displays of magic forced his father's hand. The boy was sent across the land, to take up an apprenticeship with an ageing wizard. But even he was not prepared for the boy. 
Until his twentieth birthday, and the tragic events that transpired that day, his powers grew exponentially. His control of them did not. On the day of his twentieth year, the small house at the top of the quiet hill was blasted apart by a startling display of fire. All that was left was a shaking boy, clutching the charred remains of his masters pointy hat.
The townsfolk, startled and unlearned as they were, immediately drove him away, branding him a demon, a dark, vile thing. 

Throughout the years Draften has become used to being treated like a vile being. After wandering for a few years, he has now taken up residence in a secluded house, built by hand. There he trains himself both physically and mentally, and has slowly been gaining control of his powers. Now he looks towards the world again. Hoping that he can change its perception of him, and those precious few like him. But the question remains, can the demons of the past truly be banished, or do they linger still, even in him?
 
Other: The magic he wields has taken its toll on his appearance, ageing his features far beyond his years. Though still physically adept, his visage is that of an older man.