Post by Arizae on Jun 7, 2010 0:53:14 GMT -5
Name: Duren Maethor
Age: 26
Race: Half Elf
Appearance:
Duren is a mix of rugged and slender, a truly handsome man thanks to his lineage. However, one would never know this unless he felt the need to clean himself up. This is because Duren is completely blind, and has been since birth. One doesn’t care much for appearance when you can’t see your own face. His hair is colored a deep black hangs to his shoulders in a tangled oily mess. The ends are extremely jagged as Duren simply takes a knife to the edges when it gets too long for comfort. There has been absolutely no attempt to tame the rat’s nest it appears to be. He keeps his beard shorter however and will attempt to keep it shaved close. This mess of hair hides his sharp angled features and pointed ears. If he were to try taming his hair by tying it back and shave his face Duren would be the spitting image of any other elf. His delicate angled features would become much more prominent. While his high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes would clearly show everyone that he was more than human. Many people will do a double take at someone with pointed ears and the last thing Duren wants is attention. So he keeps the rugged beard and mess of hair to hide his more elflike features.
He cannot, however, disguise his height. A staggering 6’4” Duren has to stoop in order to appear nonthreatening. Since his build is a mix of human and elf he is taler than most humans and has larger muscles than any elf. However, to the human eye he is much to slight for his height. This makes Duren's build much like that of a gymnast. For he is quick, incredibly fast for any human, and flexible, but he is bigger than any normal elf. It would seem that elves would think him to large for one of their kind, and yet a human would think him too slight. One other aspect he has difficulty masking is his eyes. When one looks directly at them it can be slightly frightening. Almost completely white it is difficult to see where the iris begins. Even the pupil is a milky gray making his entire eye appear to be one iridescent orb. What is stranger still is that Duren is incredibly good at looking directly into others eyes. It took him a long time during childhood to master, but now he is able to do so without fail with nearly everyone he meets. At times he will simply put a bandage over his eyes. Pretend to be a wounded soldier waiting for a malady to heal. But most often he exposes his sightless eyes to the world.
Now Duren hates calling attention to himself and so he dresses modestly when possible. He grew up in the slums of Dras-Leona, so style and quality means nothing to him. Should he be within a city or the wild he will wear his worn leather boots and brown pants. He keeps a dark colored tunic on and is never separated from a dark green cloak. Duren keeps the cowl pulled over his head most of the time, keeping his eyes and wild face hidden within the darkness it provides. On his arms he wears brown bracers and protects his hands with fingerless gloves. The bracers are kept for his bow, and he keeps the gloves fingerless so that he never loses his important sense of touch. He also keeps various pouches on his belt and slung over his shoulders. This is mainly to deposit purses stolen or herbs collected in the wild.
One would think blindness would keep Duren from being effective in any kind of combative situation. However the young half-elf has trained tirelessly since he was a young child. On the streets of Dras-Leona he had to evade slavers while blind. His hearing is inhuman and simply put far above any elf’s skill. A dragon or werecat would be hard put to catch something before Duren. He claims to hear the heartbeats of those nearby, the whistle of an arrow, and even the fall of leaves. The young man has even trained himself to make a strange noise in the back of his throat, an almost clicking sound, and can hear it echo off nearby objects. It helps him create a map in his head of the nearby area. This super being hearing aids him in battle. Now Duren doesn’t fight with a sword; he never had the crowns to buy one. Instead he fights with a staff nearly as tall as he is. The staff serves a dual purpose. When he doesn't use the strange clicking noise to find his way he’ll use the staff to search out any obstacles. Duren can walk like any other being, could even run, but he uses the staff to aid him much of the time. He is also a master with the staff, able to disable or even kill many excellent sword users. When someone strikes he can hear it and react faster. He has not faced any elves, but against humans the half-elf is nearly undefeated even in his blind state.
Most all elves are born with the ability to use magic. Duren is no exception as a half-elf, but he lacks any knowledge of magic, the ancient language or his ability to use it. However, his magical skill has affected him whether he knows it or not. For magic has helped enhance his hearing to these heights and helps the young man get a sense of his surroundings. During the heat of battle Duren can almost touch the difference in pressure within the air when someone strikes at him. Magic has helped Duren live within his world of darkness, and he is still practicing the strange skills it has given his ears and sense of touch.
Naturally Duren’s nose is incredibly strong, as is his sense of touch and taste. Without his eyes everything else has become enhanced. The half-elf can track a human using his nose, though his sense of smell is not quite as strong when compared to his hearing. He has been working on developing it, but it is still a rough skill. When it comes to touch Duren loves to go barefoot. It helps him become one with the earth; communicate with it as it guides his steps. Duren doesn’t need to touch someone’s face to know them. He simply shakes their hand and he knows the feel of their skin.
Along with his nondescript staff Duren also carries a normal bow and a few arrows with him. This would seem insane for any blind person to do. Half-elf or not, but Duren is incredibly accurate. If someone makes as much as a deep breath he can train the bow on them and take them down. Lately he has been practicing with a hawk he has raised the past year. The young creature had a broken wing when he found it. Now he has nursed it back to health and it won’t leave his side. So he has experimented with the young hawk, having it fly out to a target and then making a call back to him. Then Duren can train his bow on that target and strike. The hawk and the half-elf are still practicing this dangerous practice, but so far it has worked incredibly well.
Personality:
Duren is a quite man with a wry sense of humor. He is not above blind jokes and loves putting anyone and everyone off balance. That is, when he is speaking. For the half-elf is a quiet man and loves to listen for a long time before saying anything. Naturally Duren cannot read due to his ‘malady’ but he has learned much from many people from all corners of Alagaesia. So he could be considered well-learned when compared to many others that grew up as he did. His mind is quick and his tongue sharp. Since he wasn’t shown kindness as a child he never really learned to show it to anyone else. He will tell you what he thinks of you and doesn’t sugarcoat the truth when he is there to tell it. However, Duren is also a survivor from the streets. Lying and dishonesty were necessary to survive in such an environment. And so he has become an expert in their use. A lie comes as easily as truth if it means it will help him out. Since it is so easy to be dishonest pride has never been in his life. Pride gets you killed when you live in the slums and Duren has never needed it. As far as he can tell it makes you weak, anyone he knew as a child that clung to pride is dead today.
However, when he was fifteen he left Dras-Leona for the wild with a self-proclaimed ranger named Jerham. The man taught Duren the importance of honesty amongst friends and the half-elf learned the joy of having someone you could depend on. Loyalty and integrity didn’t come automatically, but under Jerham’s tutelage it became natural for Duren. There was something in his blood that reminded him of the truthfulness that elves always speak in. However, Jerham abandoned him after five years, and Duren lost the only father figure he ever knew. Now Duren finds it nearly impossible to trust anyone. That sense of loyalty and companionship was dashed away and any thought of integrity just seems laughable. Duren was hurt, and he has reverted to his survivalist mindset. Cheat and steal to live, never trust anyone. This has helped him become a major leader in the slaving business within Dras-Leona. Something he fought even as a child in his own way. Now Duren simply doesn’t care. He wraps himself in a shell and won’t let any in. The darkness that covers his eyes keeps him far from the world.
His blindness has helped shape him into the person he is today. Duren grew up in a pitch-black world. Duren knows nothing of color or beauty as everyone else knows it. His world is one of sound, smell, and touch. Music is a beautiful thing to him and the heat of the sun on his face is what wakes him in the morning. Though he uses humor and wit to pass off his blindness to those he must deal with Duren does feel depressed at times. He is thankful for all the skills his blindness has blessed him with. After all, his hearing is beyond belief and he can remember people by their smell. But he has never seen the high walls of Teirm, even though he has traveled there many times. The colors of a sunrise are unknown to him and he has never seen his own face. He doesn’t let it get him down, but at times he does regret his lack of sight.
History:
Duren Maethor is the product of the bond between an elf and a human. He has no idea who his parents were or what happened to them. What he remembers from his early days are the streets of Dras-Leona, or rather the cramped feeling and putrid stink of the slums. Duren was barely able to keep himself out of slavery. As a child he spent his days begging on the streets, or possibly trying to steal. However this was difficult for Duren early on due to his condition. A young blind boy could gain more crowns then a fumbling hand in a purse. Duren’s mother was actually married to an extremely wealthy merchant and she fled into hiding when she became pregnant out of wedlock. The innkeeper, called Mychael, hid her for enormous amounts of money, but was left in horror and shock when the child was born with pointed ears. Then the woman went back to her life of luxury and left the bastard child within the care of the shrewd innkeeper.
So Duren begged on the streets to keep himself fed. However, that didn’t keep away the dangers that slavers presented. The young child had to quickly memorize the streets that were nearly ever changing with garbage and slanted shacks. It was here that his elven blood helped him immensely. His ears could pick up the smallest of sounds, in fact Duren claims to hear heartbeats. This is because of his dependence on his ears since birth. Begging worked for him as a child, but soon people began to recognize this blind kid and they didn’t like the exotic feel those almond shaped eyes gave them. Duren seemed to hear too much, dare they say see too much? Mychael was not happy with the amount of crowns Duren brought in and now the young boy went on to try his hand at pick pocketing.
Strangely enough it was suddenly easy for him. He would look at people as best he could at that age. Let them see his face, and then he would take their wallets. A very different tactic than most pickpockets. This was because no one would ever suspect a blind child, and there was no disguising those white irises. People would never watch their purses around him, and Duren could hear well enough to detect the clink of crowns in a heavy purse. So he became a master little thief and was able to stay at the inn with Mychael. However, come his twelfth birthday he saw no need to stay at that dirty inn. So he moved on, left the hateful innkeeper, and actually lived near where the slavers dwelt. For there Duren could meet people from all over the world…the slaves themselves. The young boy wanted to learn what he could from these interesting people. After all, they were more than willing to give him their knowledge after he gained an incredibly quick hand for picking locks. Hearing the clink of falling tumblers was about as easy for Duren as breathing. So he picked up the hobby of finding interesting slaves and freeing them to gain knowledge. It was among these slaves that he found someone to teach him the ways of the staff and bow.
It was this friend that took him off into the wild. Duren knew his friend couldn’t stay in the city and it just so happened that this slave needed help getting out. Duren knew Dras-Leona as well as any kid that grew up in its streets. So he smuggled this slave out. Jerham was the man’s name, and he was a self-proclaimed ranger. Duren had planned to stay with the man only a short while, but he ended up staying with Jerham for nearly five years. It was Jerham who taught Duren the way of the staff and bow. From the ranger the half-elf learned how to survive in the wild when you had little but a knife at your side. Duren learned how to build snares and smell out prey, something Jerham could not do himself. The ranger would always laugh at Duren’s incredible senses and claim his own sight was a curse. It was also the ranger that gave Duren his name. Before meeting Jerham, Mychael had simply called the young boy ‘bastard’, whenever he saw him. But Jerham called the young half-elf Duren, meaning dark eyes in his own tongue after the darkness that the half-elf could never escape. Jerham also gave young Duren his own family name to use. Maethor, meaning warrior in his foreign tongue.
Sadly, come Duren’s twentieth birthday Jerham decided it was time they separate. It was difficult for both of them. Duren looked up to the ranger like he would a father, but war was stirring with whispers of the Varden. Jerham felt obligated to fight against Galbatorix and wished to seek out the Varden and join with them. However he believed Duren to still be too young, and despite the half-elf’s incredible skill he thought battle would be too much for a blind person. So, to protect his surrogate son, Jerham left him back in Dras-Leona.
There bitter and angry over the abandonment Duren went back to his thieving ways. Instead of freeing slaves he joined the slavers. They found his skills to be incredibly useful. The young man also decided to help the Empire whenever possible in spite of Jerham. With his agility, knowledge, and ears Duren quickly rose in the ranks of the slavers. Soon the half-elf was a well respected merchant known for secretive ways and for hiding his face. No one ever saw this high member and the half-elf liked it this way. As long as no one knew him, he could listen in on any conversation he wanted. He would let no one see his ears through his mess of hair. In fact he most often ran his business from the streets. Showing his authority by a signature ring worn on the thumb of his right hand when something needed putting down. He did not forget anything from his five years within the wild and would often take long excursions out of Dras-Leona. Traveling even to Teirm alone. But Duren would always return to his slaving business. He only prospered from the war. In truth the Empire leaves a bad taste in his mouth and he would love to join the Varden and find Jerham once again. He has grown from the petty bitterness he held at twenty. Six years from his surrogate father has mellowed him out and he looks to aid the Varden soon.
Other:
Duren recently came by a new friend. A young injured Red-tailed hawk ended up in one of the alleyways the half-elf frequents. The creature was unable to fly and incredibly close to one of those despicable temples. This was but a year ago and Duren immediately decided to help the creature. He had no intentions of keeping it, but he nursed it back to health and when it was back to normal it simply wouldn't leave him. So he kept the hawk as a companion. Most often the creature will stay perched on the half-elf's shoulder. It is rare that he will carry the creature on his forearm. A few months ago he decided there was more to be done with his companion then simple 'intimidation'. The hawk, he thought, could serve as a pair of eyes for him. Now he works daily with the creature, using a series of whistles to direct the creature. Not only does the hawk work great at catching small game it has also begun to be able to direct Duren to targets. The hawk will dive bomb an enemy calling out when it passes. Then Duren will have a lock on that spot and be able to send an arrow directly to where the hawk was milliseconds before. This requires great trust in the hawk, but somehow Duren trusts the creature...at times he feels as if he can touch the bird's own mind. At first he didn't feel like naming his companion as it seemed like ownership, but now out of respect he has named the hawk Ril.
Roleplaying example:
Jalen was anxious he felt ready for anything. His calm demeanor became a mask of cool determination as he waited for the soldier below to dismount and challenge the drunk. The young man probably wouldn’t be needed for this confrontation anyways. Granted he would be little help to begin with…but the man on the horse seemed very confident. He should have no problem dispatching the Vardener. Eyes glittering Jalen waited, watching the cool steel of the man’s cutlass flash in the dark alley.
He was expecting angry words, perhaps a quick rush and a valiant leap from the man on the horse. Perhaps a flip into the air while jumping off the horse to land evenly on his feet and attack the Vardener. Needless to say nothing of the sort happened. No, the two looked at each other discussed drinks! So this Empire soldier was going to let this man walk free? Was he intimidated by the simple wave of the cutlass? A frown crossed the young man’s face as frustration and confusion clouded his mind.
It was then that the man on the horse spotted him. Jalen was surprised, caught off guard by the judging glance. There was recognition in the man’s eye; it seemed the soldier remembered him from in the crowd. The young man wanted the soldier that he was here to help, and that this guy should be easily captured. However, there were numerous barriers to get this point across. Most importantly was secrecy, Jalen would be no good if the drunkard was aware of him, and the fact that the young man really couldn’t tell the soldier anything.
Then the soldier slowly shook his head. The young man’s stomach sank. His confidence and anxiousness from before evaporated from that simple rejection. Jalen figured he must not look like much help at all, and this soldier thought he’d mess stuff up. Granted there was a high chance of that, but he wasn’t that pathetic…was he? Feeling slightly angered Jalen watched as the soldier backed his horse from out of the alley and continued on his way. So that was it. The blasphemous Vardener was sheathing his sword and on to the next bar to wallow in his drink. Why wouldn’t the soldier get off the horse? Any respectable or even slightly proud man would’ve.
That’s when Jalen realized that certain things simply weren’t matching up in this situation. From what he’d seen in that soldier’s eye Jalen knew the man was no coward. No, pride was a very important thing to the man on the horse. Pride was a greater matter to that soldier than any Varden swine shooting off his mouth in public. Anger and frustration quickly left the young man to be replaced by his insatiable curiosity. There was more to the man on the horse. His eye hadn’t caught it at first, he doubted any person would catch it, for was extremely vigilant, but something seemed off now that he thought of it.
So without further thought the young man stood up, backed up a few paces, and leapt the distance of the alleyway to a lower lying building on the other side. He could still just spot the soldier on his horse, trying furiously to make his way to the gate. Jalen longed to cry out and stop the man. Shout at him to wait or halt so he could question him, or simply try and communicate. Of course the young man couldn’t do this, so he put his legs to work and used the city’s layout to his advantage.
Jalen kept up a furious pace, though he had to take extreme care on the roofs. Some gaps were too large to jump and he had to take excruciating detours. He might’ve jumped down, but he was a bit too high where he was at and it would be faster to continue than to find a way down and navigate through the sprawling crowd below. He could see the gate fast approaching, and the soldier hurrying to its gates. ‘Why does he want to leave so quickly?’ Jalen suspected it was the same reason he wouldn’t fight the Vardener, the same reason he seemed attached to that horse…
The crowd opened up slightly right before the gate, the soldier was able to speed up and Jalen was too far behind. The chase was over before Jalen knew it, the soldier slipping out of the gates and taking off. He had been too slow, and could only watch as the man took off. Jalen was confined to the city for now; he couldn’t catch up to the man on the open road. That and he would probably get himself lost. Running a hand through his hair Jalen felt the run catch up to him and breathed heavily, just starting to feel the ache and burn in his legs. He was disappointed. That soldier had just run off with whatever secrets he held and now his curiosity would never be happy. The young man sat down on the edge of the building he was standing on. Once more he let his feet dangle over the edge, gripping the edge with his hands. As he caught his breath the young man lamented on the loss of excitement and went back to watching the crowd hustle through the city gates
How did you find us? A friend that goes by the name of Talon
Age: 26
Race: Half Elf
Appearance:
Duren is a mix of rugged and slender, a truly handsome man thanks to his lineage. However, one would never know this unless he felt the need to clean himself up. This is because Duren is completely blind, and has been since birth. One doesn’t care much for appearance when you can’t see your own face. His hair is colored a deep black hangs to his shoulders in a tangled oily mess. The ends are extremely jagged as Duren simply takes a knife to the edges when it gets too long for comfort. There has been absolutely no attempt to tame the rat’s nest it appears to be. He keeps his beard shorter however and will attempt to keep it shaved close. This mess of hair hides his sharp angled features and pointed ears. If he were to try taming his hair by tying it back and shave his face Duren would be the spitting image of any other elf. His delicate angled features would become much more prominent. While his high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes would clearly show everyone that he was more than human. Many people will do a double take at someone with pointed ears and the last thing Duren wants is attention. So he keeps the rugged beard and mess of hair to hide his more elflike features.
He cannot, however, disguise his height. A staggering 6’4” Duren has to stoop in order to appear nonthreatening. Since his build is a mix of human and elf he is taler than most humans and has larger muscles than any elf. However, to the human eye he is much to slight for his height. This makes Duren's build much like that of a gymnast. For he is quick, incredibly fast for any human, and flexible, but he is bigger than any normal elf. It would seem that elves would think him to large for one of their kind, and yet a human would think him too slight. One other aspect he has difficulty masking is his eyes. When one looks directly at them it can be slightly frightening. Almost completely white it is difficult to see where the iris begins. Even the pupil is a milky gray making his entire eye appear to be one iridescent orb. What is stranger still is that Duren is incredibly good at looking directly into others eyes. It took him a long time during childhood to master, but now he is able to do so without fail with nearly everyone he meets. At times he will simply put a bandage over his eyes. Pretend to be a wounded soldier waiting for a malady to heal. But most often he exposes his sightless eyes to the world.
Now Duren hates calling attention to himself and so he dresses modestly when possible. He grew up in the slums of Dras-Leona, so style and quality means nothing to him. Should he be within a city or the wild he will wear his worn leather boots and brown pants. He keeps a dark colored tunic on and is never separated from a dark green cloak. Duren keeps the cowl pulled over his head most of the time, keeping his eyes and wild face hidden within the darkness it provides. On his arms he wears brown bracers and protects his hands with fingerless gloves. The bracers are kept for his bow, and he keeps the gloves fingerless so that he never loses his important sense of touch. He also keeps various pouches on his belt and slung over his shoulders. This is mainly to deposit purses stolen or herbs collected in the wild.
One would think blindness would keep Duren from being effective in any kind of combative situation. However the young half-elf has trained tirelessly since he was a young child. On the streets of Dras-Leona he had to evade slavers while blind. His hearing is inhuman and simply put far above any elf’s skill. A dragon or werecat would be hard put to catch something before Duren. He claims to hear the heartbeats of those nearby, the whistle of an arrow, and even the fall of leaves. The young man has even trained himself to make a strange noise in the back of his throat, an almost clicking sound, and can hear it echo off nearby objects. It helps him create a map in his head of the nearby area. This super being hearing aids him in battle. Now Duren doesn’t fight with a sword; he never had the crowns to buy one. Instead he fights with a staff nearly as tall as he is. The staff serves a dual purpose. When he doesn't use the strange clicking noise to find his way he’ll use the staff to search out any obstacles. Duren can walk like any other being, could even run, but he uses the staff to aid him much of the time. He is also a master with the staff, able to disable or even kill many excellent sword users. When someone strikes he can hear it and react faster. He has not faced any elves, but against humans the half-elf is nearly undefeated even in his blind state.
Most all elves are born with the ability to use magic. Duren is no exception as a half-elf, but he lacks any knowledge of magic, the ancient language or his ability to use it. However, his magical skill has affected him whether he knows it or not. For magic has helped enhance his hearing to these heights and helps the young man get a sense of his surroundings. During the heat of battle Duren can almost touch the difference in pressure within the air when someone strikes at him. Magic has helped Duren live within his world of darkness, and he is still practicing the strange skills it has given his ears and sense of touch.
Naturally Duren’s nose is incredibly strong, as is his sense of touch and taste. Without his eyes everything else has become enhanced. The half-elf can track a human using his nose, though his sense of smell is not quite as strong when compared to his hearing. He has been working on developing it, but it is still a rough skill. When it comes to touch Duren loves to go barefoot. It helps him become one with the earth; communicate with it as it guides his steps. Duren doesn’t need to touch someone’s face to know them. He simply shakes their hand and he knows the feel of their skin.
Along with his nondescript staff Duren also carries a normal bow and a few arrows with him. This would seem insane for any blind person to do. Half-elf or not, but Duren is incredibly accurate. If someone makes as much as a deep breath he can train the bow on them and take them down. Lately he has been practicing with a hawk he has raised the past year. The young creature had a broken wing when he found it. Now he has nursed it back to health and it won’t leave his side. So he has experimented with the young hawk, having it fly out to a target and then making a call back to him. Then Duren can train his bow on that target and strike. The hawk and the half-elf are still practicing this dangerous practice, but so far it has worked incredibly well.
Personality:
Duren is a quite man with a wry sense of humor. He is not above blind jokes and loves putting anyone and everyone off balance. That is, when he is speaking. For the half-elf is a quiet man and loves to listen for a long time before saying anything. Naturally Duren cannot read due to his ‘malady’ but he has learned much from many people from all corners of Alagaesia. So he could be considered well-learned when compared to many others that grew up as he did. His mind is quick and his tongue sharp. Since he wasn’t shown kindness as a child he never really learned to show it to anyone else. He will tell you what he thinks of you and doesn’t sugarcoat the truth when he is there to tell it. However, Duren is also a survivor from the streets. Lying and dishonesty were necessary to survive in such an environment. And so he has become an expert in their use. A lie comes as easily as truth if it means it will help him out. Since it is so easy to be dishonest pride has never been in his life. Pride gets you killed when you live in the slums and Duren has never needed it. As far as he can tell it makes you weak, anyone he knew as a child that clung to pride is dead today.
However, when he was fifteen he left Dras-Leona for the wild with a self-proclaimed ranger named Jerham. The man taught Duren the importance of honesty amongst friends and the half-elf learned the joy of having someone you could depend on. Loyalty and integrity didn’t come automatically, but under Jerham’s tutelage it became natural for Duren. There was something in his blood that reminded him of the truthfulness that elves always speak in. However, Jerham abandoned him after five years, and Duren lost the only father figure he ever knew. Now Duren finds it nearly impossible to trust anyone. That sense of loyalty and companionship was dashed away and any thought of integrity just seems laughable. Duren was hurt, and he has reverted to his survivalist mindset. Cheat and steal to live, never trust anyone. This has helped him become a major leader in the slaving business within Dras-Leona. Something he fought even as a child in his own way. Now Duren simply doesn’t care. He wraps himself in a shell and won’t let any in. The darkness that covers his eyes keeps him far from the world.
His blindness has helped shape him into the person he is today. Duren grew up in a pitch-black world. Duren knows nothing of color or beauty as everyone else knows it. His world is one of sound, smell, and touch. Music is a beautiful thing to him and the heat of the sun on his face is what wakes him in the morning. Though he uses humor and wit to pass off his blindness to those he must deal with Duren does feel depressed at times. He is thankful for all the skills his blindness has blessed him with. After all, his hearing is beyond belief and he can remember people by their smell. But he has never seen the high walls of Teirm, even though he has traveled there many times. The colors of a sunrise are unknown to him and he has never seen his own face. He doesn’t let it get him down, but at times he does regret his lack of sight.
History:
Duren Maethor is the product of the bond between an elf and a human. He has no idea who his parents were or what happened to them. What he remembers from his early days are the streets of Dras-Leona, or rather the cramped feeling and putrid stink of the slums. Duren was barely able to keep himself out of slavery. As a child he spent his days begging on the streets, or possibly trying to steal. However this was difficult for Duren early on due to his condition. A young blind boy could gain more crowns then a fumbling hand in a purse. Duren’s mother was actually married to an extremely wealthy merchant and she fled into hiding when she became pregnant out of wedlock. The innkeeper, called Mychael, hid her for enormous amounts of money, but was left in horror and shock when the child was born with pointed ears. Then the woman went back to her life of luxury and left the bastard child within the care of the shrewd innkeeper.
So Duren begged on the streets to keep himself fed. However, that didn’t keep away the dangers that slavers presented. The young child had to quickly memorize the streets that were nearly ever changing with garbage and slanted shacks. It was here that his elven blood helped him immensely. His ears could pick up the smallest of sounds, in fact Duren claims to hear heartbeats. This is because of his dependence on his ears since birth. Begging worked for him as a child, but soon people began to recognize this blind kid and they didn’t like the exotic feel those almond shaped eyes gave them. Duren seemed to hear too much, dare they say see too much? Mychael was not happy with the amount of crowns Duren brought in and now the young boy went on to try his hand at pick pocketing.
Strangely enough it was suddenly easy for him. He would look at people as best he could at that age. Let them see his face, and then he would take their wallets. A very different tactic than most pickpockets. This was because no one would ever suspect a blind child, and there was no disguising those white irises. People would never watch their purses around him, and Duren could hear well enough to detect the clink of crowns in a heavy purse. So he became a master little thief and was able to stay at the inn with Mychael. However, come his twelfth birthday he saw no need to stay at that dirty inn. So he moved on, left the hateful innkeeper, and actually lived near where the slavers dwelt. For there Duren could meet people from all over the world…the slaves themselves. The young boy wanted to learn what he could from these interesting people. After all, they were more than willing to give him their knowledge after he gained an incredibly quick hand for picking locks. Hearing the clink of falling tumblers was about as easy for Duren as breathing. So he picked up the hobby of finding interesting slaves and freeing them to gain knowledge. It was among these slaves that he found someone to teach him the ways of the staff and bow.
It was this friend that took him off into the wild. Duren knew his friend couldn’t stay in the city and it just so happened that this slave needed help getting out. Duren knew Dras-Leona as well as any kid that grew up in its streets. So he smuggled this slave out. Jerham was the man’s name, and he was a self-proclaimed ranger. Duren had planned to stay with the man only a short while, but he ended up staying with Jerham for nearly five years. It was Jerham who taught Duren the way of the staff and bow. From the ranger the half-elf learned how to survive in the wild when you had little but a knife at your side. Duren learned how to build snares and smell out prey, something Jerham could not do himself. The ranger would always laugh at Duren’s incredible senses and claim his own sight was a curse. It was also the ranger that gave Duren his name. Before meeting Jerham, Mychael had simply called the young boy ‘bastard’, whenever he saw him. But Jerham called the young half-elf Duren, meaning dark eyes in his own tongue after the darkness that the half-elf could never escape. Jerham also gave young Duren his own family name to use. Maethor, meaning warrior in his foreign tongue.
Sadly, come Duren’s twentieth birthday Jerham decided it was time they separate. It was difficult for both of them. Duren looked up to the ranger like he would a father, but war was stirring with whispers of the Varden. Jerham felt obligated to fight against Galbatorix and wished to seek out the Varden and join with them. However he believed Duren to still be too young, and despite the half-elf’s incredible skill he thought battle would be too much for a blind person. So, to protect his surrogate son, Jerham left him back in Dras-Leona.
There bitter and angry over the abandonment Duren went back to his thieving ways. Instead of freeing slaves he joined the slavers. They found his skills to be incredibly useful. The young man also decided to help the Empire whenever possible in spite of Jerham. With his agility, knowledge, and ears Duren quickly rose in the ranks of the slavers. Soon the half-elf was a well respected merchant known for secretive ways and for hiding his face. No one ever saw this high member and the half-elf liked it this way. As long as no one knew him, he could listen in on any conversation he wanted. He would let no one see his ears through his mess of hair. In fact he most often ran his business from the streets. Showing his authority by a signature ring worn on the thumb of his right hand when something needed putting down. He did not forget anything from his five years within the wild and would often take long excursions out of Dras-Leona. Traveling even to Teirm alone. But Duren would always return to his slaving business. He only prospered from the war. In truth the Empire leaves a bad taste in his mouth and he would love to join the Varden and find Jerham once again. He has grown from the petty bitterness he held at twenty. Six years from his surrogate father has mellowed him out and he looks to aid the Varden soon.
Other:
Duren recently came by a new friend. A young injured Red-tailed hawk ended up in one of the alleyways the half-elf frequents. The creature was unable to fly and incredibly close to one of those despicable temples. This was but a year ago and Duren immediately decided to help the creature. He had no intentions of keeping it, but he nursed it back to health and when it was back to normal it simply wouldn't leave him. So he kept the hawk as a companion. Most often the creature will stay perched on the half-elf's shoulder. It is rare that he will carry the creature on his forearm. A few months ago he decided there was more to be done with his companion then simple 'intimidation'. The hawk, he thought, could serve as a pair of eyes for him. Now he works daily with the creature, using a series of whistles to direct the creature. Not only does the hawk work great at catching small game it has also begun to be able to direct Duren to targets. The hawk will dive bomb an enemy calling out when it passes. Then Duren will have a lock on that spot and be able to send an arrow directly to where the hawk was milliseconds before. This requires great trust in the hawk, but somehow Duren trusts the creature...at times he feels as if he can touch the bird's own mind. At first he didn't feel like naming his companion as it seemed like ownership, but now out of respect he has named the hawk Ril.
Roleplaying example:
Jalen was anxious he felt ready for anything. His calm demeanor became a mask of cool determination as he waited for the soldier below to dismount and challenge the drunk. The young man probably wouldn’t be needed for this confrontation anyways. Granted he would be little help to begin with…but the man on the horse seemed very confident. He should have no problem dispatching the Vardener. Eyes glittering Jalen waited, watching the cool steel of the man’s cutlass flash in the dark alley.
He was expecting angry words, perhaps a quick rush and a valiant leap from the man on the horse. Perhaps a flip into the air while jumping off the horse to land evenly on his feet and attack the Vardener. Needless to say nothing of the sort happened. No, the two looked at each other discussed drinks! So this Empire soldier was going to let this man walk free? Was he intimidated by the simple wave of the cutlass? A frown crossed the young man’s face as frustration and confusion clouded his mind.
It was then that the man on the horse spotted him. Jalen was surprised, caught off guard by the judging glance. There was recognition in the man’s eye; it seemed the soldier remembered him from in the crowd. The young man wanted the soldier that he was here to help, and that this guy should be easily captured. However, there were numerous barriers to get this point across. Most importantly was secrecy, Jalen would be no good if the drunkard was aware of him, and the fact that the young man really couldn’t tell the soldier anything.
Then the soldier slowly shook his head. The young man’s stomach sank. His confidence and anxiousness from before evaporated from that simple rejection. Jalen figured he must not look like much help at all, and this soldier thought he’d mess stuff up. Granted there was a high chance of that, but he wasn’t that pathetic…was he? Feeling slightly angered Jalen watched as the soldier backed his horse from out of the alley and continued on his way. So that was it. The blasphemous Vardener was sheathing his sword and on to the next bar to wallow in his drink. Why wouldn’t the soldier get off the horse? Any respectable or even slightly proud man would’ve.
That’s when Jalen realized that certain things simply weren’t matching up in this situation. From what he’d seen in that soldier’s eye Jalen knew the man was no coward. No, pride was a very important thing to the man on the horse. Pride was a greater matter to that soldier than any Varden swine shooting off his mouth in public. Anger and frustration quickly left the young man to be replaced by his insatiable curiosity. There was more to the man on the horse. His eye hadn’t caught it at first, he doubted any person would catch it, for was extremely vigilant, but something seemed off now that he thought of it.
So without further thought the young man stood up, backed up a few paces, and leapt the distance of the alleyway to a lower lying building on the other side. He could still just spot the soldier on his horse, trying furiously to make his way to the gate. Jalen longed to cry out and stop the man. Shout at him to wait or halt so he could question him, or simply try and communicate. Of course the young man couldn’t do this, so he put his legs to work and used the city’s layout to his advantage.
Jalen kept up a furious pace, though he had to take extreme care on the roofs. Some gaps were too large to jump and he had to take excruciating detours. He might’ve jumped down, but he was a bit too high where he was at and it would be faster to continue than to find a way down and navigate through the sprawling crowd below. He could see the gate fast approaching, and the soldier hurrying to its gates. ‘Why does he want to leave so quickly?’ Jalen suspected it was the same reason he wouldn’t fight the Vardener, the same reason he seemed attached to that horse…
The crowd opened up slightly right before the gate, the soldier was able to speed up and Jalen was too far behind. The chase was over before Jalen knew it, the soldier slipping out of the gates and taking off. He had been too slow, and could only watch as the man took off. Jalen was confined to the city for now; he couldn’t catch up to the man on the open road. That and he would probably get himself lost. Running a hand through his hair Jalen felt the run catch up to him and breathed heavily, just starting to feel the ache and burn in his legs. He was disappointed. That soldier had just run off with whatever secrets he held and now his curiosity would never be happy. The young man sat down on the edge of the building he was standing on. Once more he let his feet dangle over the edge, gripping the edge with his hands. As he caught his breath the young man lamented on the loss of excitement and went back to watching the crowd hustle through the city gates
How did you find us? A friend that goes by the name of Talon
