vietmyke

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

Sorry! Busy weekend, birthday and all, so I was bombarded with plans. I have plenty of time to sit down tonight and write.

The Long Night | Medieval Fantasy

Emil Durand

The Durand Aviary

---

The Durand Aviary, settled in just outside of town, was afforded a relatively larger living space than those inside Vaucluse proper. The Aviary itself stretched pretty wide, a large open field in the center, where general work and training took place. On one side of the field stood the main coup and several smaller ones, for the Stryxes. On the opposite side of the field sat the Durand Homestead, a two story building made of a feldstone foundation with plaster and wooden upper floors. Next to it was a second building- a smaller bunkhouse for staff. The top of the house sat a small tower-like structure, wide windows affording it a view of the entire aviary.

Though their birds were highly sought after throughout Lutaire, the Durand's rarely employed other staff, mostly supplementary trainers and a few fieldhands. Of the half dozen men and women the Durand's employed, only one was a guard. As a result Emil and his older brother Sigmund often helped out as guards. Tonight was not much different. Emil and Tork, their hired guard sat at the top of the tower in the homestead, seated on opposite sides of a short table, a small lamp off to the side illuminating the open-air little gazebo. The two hunched over the small table, a cards in hand, a bottle and handful of coins on the table. Not much happened in this isolated town, so they passed their time with cards and drinks.

"Yer call Durand," Tork drawled as he pulled a pair of silver coins out of his pocket and placed them on the slowly growing pile of copper and silver pieces. He folded his arms and leaned back in his seat, confident.

Emil's eyes narrowed, darting back and forth between his cards and Tork's face, trying to find a chink in Tork's armored persona. His leg bounced up and down lightly. After a minute or so of complete silence, Emil shook his head and threw a pair of silver coins on the pile. "You've got nothing Tork," Emil replied confidently as he threw his cards down face up.

Emil allowed himself a small smile as he saw Tork's eyes open wider, and began reaching out for the small pile of coins. Before his hand could reach the coins though Tork swatted him with a hand. "Ah, close little Durand, very close."

Emil cursed aloud as Tork revealed his cards with a flick of his wrist. Tork laughed a loud, guffawing laugh as he casually swept the coins into his purse. "I tell you what Durand, sometimes I think I make more money from these games than the wages you lot pay me."

Not to be discouraged, Emil fished out another pair of coins and was about to put them down on the table when he heard the clacking of a Stryx's beak. Tork heard it too, and he stopped moving, motioning to the window with a finger. The two of them peeked out of the tower, their eyes quickly centering in on a torch nearby the coups. Emil rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, how had they missed that? It was a good thing Sigmund wasn't up, he'd be livid. Emil immediately recognized the Stryx out in the field as his own- Greytail. Greytail seemed to have been accompanied by a man- he couldn't tell in the dim light or distance, but they didn't have any guards other than Tork, so Emil was unsure who it could've been. The man seemed to be holding a pitchfork, which was pointed at the torchbearer. Tork reached over and grabbed a crossbow, pulling the cord back with a click before he slit a bolt into place, meanwhile, Emil tossed his lance out the window and hastily slid down the ladder, scooping the spear off the ground as he made his way across the field.

As Emil made his way across the field, he saw Greytail rear back, spreading his wings wide- in an intimidating gesture before giving out a sharp, piercing screech. In the dark and relative silence of night, the screech broke through like a thunderclap. Greytail's legs spaced out, and he beat his wings several times as he reared back, ready to stab his steel hard beak through the encroacher.

"Greytail! Heel!"

Greytail suddenly stopped mid-charge and reset himself, talons digging up dirt as they skidded to a stop. The large Stryx took several steps back and crouched slightly, his angry yellow eyes glaring intensely at the apparent invader- though seemed perfectly comfortable with the other 'invader'. That information in and of itself was confusing to Emil- Greytail liked very few people, not Tork, few of the trainers, not even his eldest brother.

"Who goes there?!" Emil demanded, his voice taking on an uncharacteristic bark as he planted one end of his lance into the ground, his right hand gripped around it loosely, but confidently.

Relics: Trials of Kheris

From the outer edge of the Arena, Hadar leaned idly against the wall, only half of him watching the spectacle down below. Two men fought, one with a shortsword and shield, the other with a spear and dagger. They were clad in stylized armor- the swordsman wore a full face helmet reminiscent of a bird of prey and an armguard of steel, while the spearman bore a steel crown and cape with scales. Were Hadar a betting man, he would have put his money on the spearman- the spearman had range, and wore less equipment, meaning his stamina would last longer. Neither warrior wore armor across their chests, rather just had wraps around their lower torsos, so a single good blow to the chest would spell the end for either warrior.

He absentmindedly pat his hand between Jana's shoulder blades, at the base of her neck, giving it a reassuring rub. She hadn't been exactly keen on coming to this arena, though to be fair neither was Hadar. His love of fighting and bloodsports had long left him, the whole idea seeming relatively pointless to him now. All things considered though, his niece was a slave in these lands, and where better to find slaves than to follow the blood? The occasional passerby gave a slight shock or took a double take as they saw Jana, a large, exotic feline seemingly being used as a pack animal, but no one approached. Save for the two swords tied to his hip, Hadar appeared every bit like a typical citizen of Kheris: The flowing white, rich-but-not-too-opulent robes, and a shemagh loosely wrapping around his head marked him as a a fairly well to do merchant or traveler, and his 'painted' exotic pack animal companion helped sell the image.

There was an eruption of cheering from the crowd and Hadar returned his attention to the duel at hand. As he had predicted, it was the spearman who had won, raising up a cut and bloodied arm aloft, as his foe lay before him, skewered through the gut with a spear. Hadar gave a small sigh. They could've done with some money, perhaps he should have bet after all. Still, all thought of bets and money faded away as Kheris spoke. The God-King himself, Kheris certainly knew how to compose himself, he appeared even, all knowing and benevolent, and had Hadar been born in this country, he probably would've believed it.

Kheris spoke at length, before announcing the next event, a fight between demons. Evokers more specifically. At the mention of these 'demons', Hadar unconsciously placed his hand on the pommel of his Zulfiqar, almost as if he was checking it was still there. Not that Hadar wouldn't have noticed if it was gone. Now Hadar leaned in, his attention more greatly piqued. While it was unfortunate they had to fight to the death, the uniqueness of each relic was something Hadar couldn't just ignore. Furthermore, if anyone knew where slaves were being held and what they did, it'd be one of these gladiators.

"Now if only I could find a way to talk to one of them." Hadar murmured aloud. Straying a glance towards his companion, he saw Jana glancing somewhere upwards, and looked uncomfortable.

He reached down, placing his hand gently against the side of her head. "What is it?" he asked her, his tone ever calm, confident, but soothing.

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

I should get a post up soon btw!

Relics: Trials of Kheris

Hadar the Windwalker

Name: Hadar Mizrahi - The Scholar Swordsmaster - Hadar the Windwalker
Age: 48
Gender: Male

Relic Description: Hadar's most prized possession, his relic is a sabre taken from an enigmatic foe from the ruins of Al-Kibrit, an ancient temple of the Old Kingdom. Known as the Zulfiqar, the blade's silvery sheen reflects brightly in the dimmest light, and is near blinding in the harsh desert sun. Capable of cutting through the air and maiming men from meters away, its blade is inscribed with ancient runes and surround the user with unearthly winds that pull on them. These mysterious winds guide the wielder's movements, granting them additional speed, and allow them to read vibrations in the air, heightening their reaction time. The Zulfiqar is sheathed in a scabbard of fine white ivory and its hilt and pommel are adorned with gold.

Appearance:
A tall and lean man, Hadar is a man in his prime. His posture is decidedly casual, but his build is obviously of one used to travelling. His coarse, dark hair is pulled into a ponytail, his tanned skin is set off by his hazel eyes, his beard is rough, but maintained, and his mouth is often curled into a wry grin. His body is marked by numerous scars, the most obvious of which crosses his face. His garb is comprised of white and purple robes, loose fitting and easy to move in, and of the traditional Kheris and nomadic styles. However, during his time travelling, Hadar will occasionally don leather armor, chainmail or other light armor to protect himself.

Flaws:

• Slow to fall - While still in his prime, Hadar has passed his peak physical condition.
• Selectively Pacifist - Hadar rarely fights, drawing his blades only when absolutely necessary.
• Wanderlust - A side-effect of his relic, Hadar is regularly stricken by wanderlust avoids staying in place for too long.
• Aloof - Partially a result of his wanderlust, Hadar is detached and aloof, and rarely makes attachments to others. He will certainly travel alongside and interact warmly with others, but deep personal connections for Hadar are rare and to be cherished.

Skills:

• Swordsman of Legend - Legends tell tale of the man named 'The Windwalker', a swordsman believed to be born of demons that tore his way through the Sand Kingdoms, a man who could move faster than the wind, whose blade was worth a thousand blades.
• Indomitable Spirit - Hadar has incorporated peace and calm into every fiber of his being. As a result, his force of will is unwavering, and his swordsmanship is at its most dangerous when he is calm and at balance.
• Man of Learning - While not the most educated man in the deserts, Hadar is a capable reader and writer, and eagerly seeks out knowledge of all kinds.

History:

Hider

Hadar was born the second son to a petty warmonger in the lawless wastes of the Sand Kingdoms- a region of desert sand inbetween the walls of Kheris, and the more fertile lands of Othea. A land of nomads and raiders, the region known as the Sand Kingdoms serve as a natural barrier between Othea and Kheris, few willing to make the trek through the hot sands and savannas and fight off roving raiders to make it to the other side. Of his many siblings, only Hadar and his older brother lived past their childhood. His childhood was tumultuous and chaotic, their tribe wasn’t large enough to control any of the major remaining settlements, and were stuck constantly waging war against the other small tribes for the desert’s rapidly dwindling resources. As soon as he could walk he was put to work, gathering what little plant matter there was and helping out his family and other tribe members however he could. As a youth, Hadar was forced to the sword in order to fight for his family and for their collective survival.

As Hadar and his brother grew older, they were brought along with their father and the other men of the warband as they raided and skirmished with other tribes for control of water and other scarce resources. As their father and the other men waged battle against the warriors of the other tribes, Hadar and the other youths would make a beeline for the opposing tribe’s valuables: water, food, livestock; and steal them. As Hadar and his brother grew older they were taught in the way of the blade in order to further aid their tribe.

Showing considerable promise as a swordsman, Hadar proved to be quite competent with a blade, and would eventually be regarded as one of the most talented swordsmen in the tribe. He showed considerable promise as a combatant and joined the ranks of his tribe’s warriors. Extremely proud of his skill, Hadar quickly propelled himself to be among the most prominent of his tribe’s warriors, and eventually became known throughout the deserts. Taking victory after victory for his tribe, Hadar would eventually become to be known throughout the Sand Kingdoms as the 'Windwalker', for his near inhuman dexterity and grace. Legends spoke of a man born of demons from the Old Kingdoms, ravaging through the deserts with such speed that he had to have been possessed by the wind. With his skill with the blade, and his fearsome reputation, Hadar helped take his tribe to glorious, heights smaller tribes surrendering outright rather than face down the man that was worth a hundred men.

Hadar led his tribe across the deserts, his tribe believing him blessed by the gods, and following a path of fate. Hadar eventually led his tribe to a secluded shrine that historians had once referred to as Al-Kibrit, a temple from the Old Kingdom, whose purpose was long forgotten. The inhabitants of this shrine were a cabal of warriors led by one possessed of an obscure and and mystic power, claiming to have guarded the temple for the past century. As Hadar led his tribe into the battle, he found himself fighting those who seemed to wield the powers of the gods themselves, faster and stronger than mere mortal men. As his kinsmen struggled to fight off the cabal and were slain, Hadar found himself in single combat with the leader of the strange warriors.

Only through his own finely honed speed and reflexes was Hadar able to survive the encounter, receiving a gruesome facial and chest wound as the enemy champion seemed to cut into him despite being several feet away. With every ounce of Hadar's skill, alongside considerable amounts of luck, the Windwalker eventually bested the cabal's champion, after a full hour of fighting on the last strands of his life. Claiming the cabal champion's blade as his own, Hadar found himself in possession of a magical weapon, a blade whose edge never dulled, and could cut through the very air around him, maiming men from distances out of his reach. With help of this blade, Hadar managed to return to his tribe, injured, but alive.

Though family, he and his brother often times butted heads. His brother, while a capable warrior in his own right, paled in comparison to his brother Hadar- a mere spark in comparison with a raging inferno. With their father making plans to have Hadar succeed him as the next warlord; Hadar’s brother was wracked with jealousy. Hatching a plot, Hadar’s older brother overthrew him, blaming Hadar for the loss of so many of the tribe's warriors, and accusing him of treason and attempting to lead the tribe towards destruction. Cast out and exiled, Hadar left his tribe, and wandered the desert sands.

Though he had been abandoned by his tribe, it appeared that the relic which had granted him new unique abilities had not. The sword bore a wind that guided him forward through the desert. However, still suffering from his wounds, and With little more than his swords and the clothes on his back, Hadar didn’t last very long in the desert and an untold amount of time fending for himself, he finally collapsed.

Hadar awoke to find himself in the care of a hermit and his daughter, weakened and sick from the desert. Nursing Hadar back to health, Hadar stayed with the hermit and his daughter for a while- he had nowhere else to go, and the Hermit was kind and knowledgeable. Hadar learned much from the two, the cave in which they lived was devoid of the constant conflict that characterized the desert, an oasis of peace in an otherwise lawless land, affording Hadar a taste of peacefulness and calm that he had never before experienced. Hadar learned how to read, and how to write, he learned of compassion, humility and slowly learned the value of human life. The hermit taught Hadar how to read through ancient texts and taught him to question his surroundings. Now able to read the ancient runes inscribed upon his sword, Hadar learned of the powerful magic that resided within his blade. This sword was no mere weapon of war, but a relic of the Old Kingdom, unlike any other. The ancient hermit eventually grew old, and died peacefully in his sleep.

After burying the hermit, Hadar took the hermit's ancient texts, and works of knowledge, and with the hermit's daughter, set off back into the desert as a changed man. The two would eventually wed. Following the pull of the wind Hadar ventured south, eventually arriving in the Kingdom of Othea. For the next several years, he traveled through the lands of Othea, seeking knowledge and teaching wherever he went. Rumors in Othea spread, of a man not unlike the stories of the Windwalker, a swordsman believed to be born of demons that tore his way through the Sand Kingdoms, word spread of a swordsman who could move faster than the wind, a near peerless swordsman, who instead of blood, glory and gold sought out books and dusty trinkets.

When Hadar's brother found him, neither sibling knew what to expect, after so many years had passed. Hadar's brother begged him for his assistance. Their tribe had been all but destroyed for straying too near to the borders of Kheris, and his daughter had been taken as a slave. Agreeing to rescue his niece, Hadar set off back into the desert, sneaking his way into Kheris.

Hadar has spent a year in Kheris now, trying to track his niece down. His only clue thus far is that she is in one of the great cities of Kheris, and to seek the bright blue bird.

Personality:
Confident and charismatic, Hadar appears outwardly jovial and warm-hearted. His lazy and carefree demeanor, combined with his natural pensiveness is occasionally mistaken for a lack of awareness and carelessness. Underneath his relaxed persona lies an innate brilliance, a highly intuitive and calculative mind. Highly perceptive and possessing near prophetic spacial awareness, Hadar shows an almost insatiable appetite for knowledge and learning of any kind, be it scholarly or practical, and will readily trade gold and glory for ancient ruins and dusty tomes. Despite his lazy demeanor, Hadar is a dedicated scholar boasting considerable knowledge of geography, and alchemical theory. Hadar possesses a well developed moral compass, though he will rarely force his ideals onto others, instead seeking his own inner peace.

Hadar values knowledge, learning, and personal growth. He constantly seeks to better himself, and encourages those around him to do so as well. While outwardly lazy and carefree, Hadar holds compassion towards those who also embody his values.

Hadar also values freedom, and the ability to pursue growth at ones own pace. He doesn't like the idea of being stuck in any one place for too long, and is commonly afflicted with wanderlust. This is occasionally attributed to the fact that he follows the pull of the winds from his relic, following what he calls the Winds of Fate.

Compassion and humility are also core values of Hadar. While one can argue how much compassion a man who so easily fights with a sword may be, Hadar truly values human life and dignity- though his displays of 'compassion and dignity' may not always coincide ideals held by others.

Hyrule's Civil War (Zelda RP)

@ArmorPlated Phanna was originally designed as a healer. But, I always love me some Light Domain Clerics, because why heal when you can zap your enemies with lasers and heal?

Hyrule's Civil War (Zelda RP)

@ArmorPlated if Roa wants to be a healer, I can convert Phanna to a more damagey sort of mage, seeing as that role is now open.

"Is that a bad guy? Ok!" *blast blast blast blast*

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

really good at spotting, pretty shit at everything else.

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

Some people can get pretty godly perception bonuses

Relics: Trials of Kheris

Some last few edits are needed. I'll get to them after work.

Hadar the Windwalker

Name: Hadar Mizrahi - The Scholar Swordsmaster - Hadar the Windwalker
Age: 48
Gender: Male

Relic Description: Hadar's most prized possession, his relic is a sabre taken from an enigmatic foe from the ruins of Al-Kibrit, an ancient temple of the Old Kingdom. Known as the Zulfiqar, the blade's silvery sheen reflects brightly in the dimmest light, and is near blinding in the harsh desert sun. Capable of cutting through the air and maiming men from meters away, its blade is inscribed with ancient runes and surround the user with unearthly winds that pull on them. These mysterious winds guide the wielder's movements, granting them additional speed, and allow them to read vibrations in the air, heightening their reaction time. The Zulfiqar is sheathed in a scabbard of fine white ivory and its hilt and pommel are adorned with gold.

Appearance:
A tall and lean man, Hadar is a man in his prime. His posture is decidedly casual, but his build is obviously of one used to travelling. His coarse, dark hair is pulled into a ponytail, his tanned skin is set off by his hazel eyes, his beard is rough, but maintained, and his mouth is often curled into a wry grin. His body is marked by numerous scars, the most obvious of which crosses his face. His garb is comprised of white and purple robes, loose fitting and easy to move in, and of the traditional Kheris and nomadic styles. However, during his time travelling, Hadar will occasionally don leather armor, chainmail or other light armor to protect himself.

Flaws:

• Slow to fall - While still in his prime, Hadar has passed his peak physical condition.
• Selectively Pacifist - Hadar rarely fights, drawing his blades only when absolutely necessary.
• Wanderlust - A side-effect of his relic, Hadar is regularly stricken by wanderlust avoids staying in place for too long.
• Aloof - Partially a result of his wanderlust, Hadar is detached and aloof, and rarely makes attachments to others. He will certainly travel alongside and interact warmly with others, but deep personal connections for Hadar are rare and to be cherished.

Skills:

• Swordsman of Legend - Legends tell tale of the man named 'The Windwalker', a swordsman believed to be born of demons that tore his way through the Sand Kingdoms, a man who could move faster than the wind, whose blade was worth a thousand blades.
• Indomitable Spirit - Hadar has incorporated peace and calm into every fiber of his being. As a result, his force of will is unwavering, and his swordsmanship is at its most dangerous when he is calm and at balance.
• Man of Learning - While not the most educated man in the deserts, Hadar is a capable reader and writer, and eagerly seeks out knowledge of all kinds.

History:

Hider

Hadar was born the second son to a petty warmonger in the lawless wastes of the Sand Kingdoms- a region of desert sand inbetween the walls of Kheris, and the more fertile lands of Othea. A land of nomads and raiders, the region known as the Sand Kingdoms serve as a natural barrier between Othea and Kheris, few willing to make the trek through the hot sands and savannas and fight off roving raiders to make it to the other side. Of his many siblings, only Hadar and his older brother lived past their childhood. His childhood was tumultuous and chaotic, their tribe wasn’t large enough to control any of the major remaining settlements, and were stuck constantly waging war against the other small tribes for the desert’s rapidly dwindling resources. As soon as he could walk he was put to work, gathering what little plant matter there was and helping out his family and other tribe members however he could. As a youth, Hadar was forced to the sword in order to fight for his family and for their collective survival.

As Hadar and his brother grew older, they were brought along with their father and the other men of the warband as they raided and skirmished with other tribes for control of water and other scarce resources. As their father and the other men waged battle against the warriors of the other tribes, Hadar and the other youths would make a beeline for the opposing tribe’s valuables: water, food, livestock; and steal them. As Hadar and his brother grew older they were taught in the way of the blade in order to further aid their tribe.

Showing considerable promise as a swordsman, Hadar proved to be quite competent with a blade, and would eventually be regarded as one of the most talented swordsmen in the tribe. He showed considerable promise as a combatant and joined the ranks of his tribe’s warriors. Extremely proud of his skill, Hadar quickly propelled himself to be among the most prominent of his tribe’s warriors, and eventually became known throughout the deserts. Taking victory after victory for his tribe, Hadar would eventually become to be known throughout the Sand Kingdoms as the 'Windwalker', for his near inhuman dexterity and grace. Legends spoke of a man born of demons from the Old Kingdoms, ravaging through the deserts with such speed that he had to have been possessed by the wind. With his skill with the blade, and his fearsome reputation, Hadar helped take his tribe to glorious, heights smaller tribes surrendering outright rather than face down the man that was worth a hundred men.

Hadar led his tribe across the deserts, his tribe believing him blessed by the gods, and following a path of fate. Hadar eventually led his tribe to a secluded shrine that historians had once referred to as Al-Kibrit, a temple from the Old Kingdom, whose purpose was long forgotten. The inhabitants of this shrine were a cabal of warriors led by one possessed of an obscure and and mystic power, claiming to have guarded the temple for the past century. As Hadar led his tribe into the battle, he found himself fighting those who seemed to wield the powers of the gods themselves, faster and stronger than mere mortal men. As his kinsmen struggled to fight off the cabal and were slain, Hadar found himself in single combat with the leader of the strange warriors.

Only through his own finely honed speed and reflexes was Hadar able to survive the encounter, receiving a gruesome facial and chest wound as the enemy champion seemed to cut into him despite being several feet away. With every ounce of Hadar's skill, alongside considerable amounts of luck, the Windwalker eventually bested the cabal's champion, after a full hour of fighting on the last strands of his life. Claiming the cabal champion's blade as his own, Hadar found himself in possession of a magical weapon, a blade whose edge never dulled, and could cut through the very air around him, maiming men from distances out of his reach. With help of this blade, Hadar managed to return to his tribe, injured, but alive.

Though family, he and his brother often times butted heads. His brother, while a capable warrior in his own right, paled in comparison to his brother Hadar- a mere spark in comparison with a raging inferno. With their father making plans to have Hadar succeed him as the next warlord; Hadar’s brother was wracked with jealousy. Hatching a plot, Hadar’s older brother overthrew him, blaming Hadar for the loss of so many of the tribe's warriors, and accusing him of treason and attempting to lead the tribe towards destruction. Cast out and exiled, Hadar left his tribe, and wandered the desert sands.

Though he had been abandoned by his tribe, it appeared that the relic which had granted him new unique abilities had not. The sword bore a wind that guided him forward through the desert. However, still suffering from his wounds, and With little more than his swords and the clothes on his back, Hadar didn’t last very long in the desert and an untold amount of time fending for himself, he finally collapsed.

Hadar awoke to find himself in the care of a hermit and his daughter, weakened and sick from the desert. Nursing Hadar back to health, Hadar stayed with the hermit and his daughter for a while- he had nowhere else to go, and the Hermit was kind and knowledgeable. Hadar learned much from the two, the cave in which they lived was devoid of the constant conflict that characterized the desert, an oasis of peace in an otherwise lawless land, affording Hadar a taste of peacefulness and calm that he had never before experienced. Hadar learned how to read, and how to write, he learned of compassion, humility and slowly learned the value of human life. The hermit taught Hadar how to read through ancient texts and taught him to question his surroundings. Now able to read the ancient runes inscribed upon his sword, Hadar learned of the powerful magic that resided within his blade. This sword was no mere weapon of war, but a relic of the Old Kingdom, unlike any other. The ancient hermit eventually grew old, and died peacefully in his sleep.

After burying the hermit, Hadar took the hermit's ancient texts, and works of knowledge, and with the hermit's daughter, set off back into the desert as a changed man. The two would eventually wed. Following the pull of the wind Hadar ventured south, eventually arriving in the Kingdom of Othea. For the next several years, he traveled through the lands of Othea, seeking knowledge and teaching wherever he went. Rumors in Othea spread, of a man not unlike the stories of the Windwalker, a swordsman believed to be born of demons that tore his way through the Sand Kingdoms, word spread of a swordsman who could move faster than the wind, a near peerless swordsman, who instead of blood, glory and gold sought out books and dusty trinkets.

When Hadar's brother found him, neither sibling knew what to expect, after so many years had passed. Hadar's brother begged him for his assistance. Their tribe had been all but destroyed for straying too near to the borders of Kheris, and his daughter had been taken as a slave. Agreeing to rescue his niece, Hadar set off back into the desert, sneaking his way into Kheris.

Hadar has spent a year in Kheris now, trying to track his niece down. His only clue thus far is that she is in one of the great cities of Kheris, and to seek the bright blue bird.

Personality:
Confident and charismatic, Hadar appears outwardly jovial and warm-hearted. His lazy and carefree demeanor, combined with his natural pensiveness is occasionally mistaken for a lack of awareness and carelessness. Underneath his relaxed persona lies an innate brilliance, a highly intuitive and calculative mind. Highly perceptive and possessing near prophetic spacial awareness, Hadar shows an almost insatiable appetite for knowledge and learning of any kind, be it scholarly or practical, and will readily trade gold and glory for ancient ruins and dusty tomes. Despite his lazy demeanor, Hadar is a dedicated scholar boasting considerable knowledge of geography, and alchemical theory. Hadar possesses a well developed moral compass, though he will rarely force his ideals onto others, instead seeking his own inner peace.

Hadar values knowledge, learning, and personal growth. He constantly seeks to better himself, and encourages those around him to do so as well. While outwardly lazy and carefree, Hadar holds compassion towards those who also embody his values.

Hadar also values freedom, and the ability to pursue growth at ones own pace. He doesn't like the idea of being stuck in any one place for too long, and is commonly afflicted with wanderlust. This is occasionally attributed to the fact that he follows the pull of the winds from his relic, following what he calls the Winds of Fate.

Compassion and humility are also core values of Hadar. While one can argue how much compassion a man who so easily fights with a sword may be, Hadar truly values human life and dignity- though his displays of 'compassion and dignity' may not always coincide ideals held by others.