Full Name: Caranthir Eledhwen
Age: 115
Classes: Rogue/Fighter(/Duelist, although I know this will have to be approved separately later when it becomes relevant, and supported by a Character Development thread, etc.). Thinking of an even 7/6/7 split, but I'll see where the character takes me.
Race: Elf
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Deity: Shadon
Bio/Description:
"No, don't thrust so forcefully. Just guide the blade to its destination," Falandrin, the fencing teacher, intoned as he deftly guided the blade between the ribs of the remarkably lifelike dummy. "It does not require much force at all if done correctly."
Caranthir took up his rapier once more, the blade still not quite comfortable in his hands, and glided forward, gently slipping the tip of the sword into the target, just missing the point the master had hid by a finger's width. "Better," said Falandrin. "You still have much to learn, but I am pleased by your progress. But best you return home for now. It is quite late. We'll pick up again next week."
Caranthir bowed to his teacher and, donning his coat, slipped out the door into the rain-soaked Port Hampshire streets, streets he had known nearly as long as he could remember. Caranthir's father, a gem carver and sculptor named Pyren Eledhwen, had moved to this merchant city when Caranthir was a mere 25. He was one of a few elves here, but his wares spoke for themselves, and he was readily accepted among the mercantile class. Indeed, he readily accepted them as well, even eschewing the more traditional elven pantheon to follow the teaching of Deliar, and attempted to lead Caranthir down the same path. Caranthir, however, did not have quite the temperament as his father. In fact, he was quite brash for a elf, and always seemed to come home with one bruise or another. However, he was also quick witted and quite charming in his own right, as a few of the local women could certainly attest, especially after seeing his blue eyes sparkle with one of his winning smiles. Even so, Pyren still hoped that his son would eventually come around and be fit to continue in his father's trade. Indeed, Caranthir was no slouch, and definitely showed some promise in working with gems, wood, and even metal. However, he was far more interested in the subtlety of his bladework (and wit) than his art, and while his father was not himself interested in swordsmanship, he obliged his son's interests as best he could.
Rounding a corner, Caranthir saw a few of his friends doing a bit of gambling in front of the local Temple of Shadon with some of the clergy. Although his father still believed him a Deliar devotee, Caranthir found himself much more attracted to the The Trickster instead. He had himself learned much from the clergy on the arts of subtlety, and had participated in a number of their more amusing pranks. Many of the clergy seemed willing to scare or surprise anything that moved, but a few were more focused on combining their amusement with their morals, using the gifts and teachings of their god against those who sought to bring harm to the city. These are the ones that made the biggest impression on the young elf, and they found him to be a willing pupil and fellow conspirator. Just last night he had joined them on a midnight raid on a local group of thugs, carefully disabling the many traps that guarded their base and repositioning them. He and his fellow Shadonites could barely contain their laughter seeing the bruised and somewhat singed villains running from their formerly well-defended hideout this morning. The clergy were also no slumps with their weapons, and while they themselves preferred their daggers, they were always willing to spar with Caranthir whenever they had time.
But, weary from his early morning and late night practice, Caranthir turned away from the halflings and made his way back to his own home. His father had long since gone to bed. Making his way to his room, Caranthir gently polished his rapier before placing it in its stand and undressing for bed. The next day promised to be interesting...the Shadonite clerics told him to come early, and bring his rapier, but only returned his questions with mischievous smirks. Caranthir slipped under the covers with a smile and slowly drifted off to sleep...
Thanks for your consideration
Steve