[Fantasy - Multiverse] Alvaron Ward

[Nyxeth]

Name of your character:
Alvaron Ward

Race:
Human

Special ability's of your character:
Alvaron lacks any 'special traits' which may set him apart from others, albeit this he could be considered a excellent swordsman, in his current prime he can be deadly within combat. Perhaps, his only other trait, is his distinct affinity with animals, his ability to converse with them might be a major give away, as often he can be found under a tree, with a bird sat upon his knuckles twittering happily to him of its simple life in the skies.

Companions of your character:
Alvaron keeps no companions, perhaps at heart he seeks one, but as it stands he would not bear himself with the idea of dragging another, person or creature into battle where it may unnecesarily be harmed. Perhaps his only companion, is his horse whom he keeps well groomed and ready, adorned in fitting garb for a knight's mount, the Horse has been well trained to kick and bite in the fray of combat to keep itself alive aswell as its rider, it will not consent to any except those Alvaron lets to ride upon it.
Whilst not keeping a companion, a white wolf seems to follow Alvaron, either at his approval or not, it can often be seen at the edge of the campfire, waiting for its moment to make itself known to him.

Personality of your character:
Alvaron is a simple man, he enjoys peace and as a soldier he understands this more than all, life upon the battlefield has left him, somewhat lacking of grace or manners, but at heart he means well, he can sadly be quite blunt and often to the point at others sake he will point out a truth best left unknown to the rest. Protective and caring, Alvaron in his times away from the battlefield he may be tending to any small deeds found, to helping settle a dispute, which a complete lack of force which would be suprising from this man, to sat, tending to a small animal which may of snuck upon him during any rest he may take under the overhanging leafs of a tree.

How does your caracter look:
Alvaron is tall, to put it bluntly and in roughly his late twenties, he is well built and his muscles are toned and tanned from years under the sun as a soldier, he has a pitch black mane of hair, running down his back which is often kept loose, tied only to the side and under his helmet prior to battle as he would not seek a enemy to use it to their own advantage. His face is stoic, often betraying little emotion upon the edge of combat, outside of this hard bitten life he looks and appears to be a well-minded fellow who revels in simple joys of life, such as being alive for another day.

In combat, he is garbed in a undercoat of chainmail, upon which his gleaming, well oiled and cleaned platemail sits, his plated spaulders which rest upon his powerful shoulders, bearing marks and notches of battle, and marks and stripes recognizing the fact he lived through those battles, covering his legs and feet, are plate boots and leg-guards. His sword, which sits within his right hand as if it were a extension of himself, which could also, fit his left hand as he has learned to be ambidextrous, as a broken arm should not inhibit your ability to fight. This sword is of shining silver, kept in excellent condition for use, its hilt is ornate of silver, its grip is wrapped with a black leather and its pomel is embedded with a piece of ebonstone.

Outside of the dangers of the battlefield, Alvaron is often found in a simple white linen tunic, completely sleeveless to reveal his massive, tree trunk like arms, upon his legs are simple brown breaches and his boots are well kept, quality leather shoes. Around his neck lay a simple silver chain with no other adornments.

History of your character:
Alvaron Ward, son to Rethan Ward and Tehara Ward, was born into a quiet life in the mountains, this mountain town, who's name was lost to the sands of time and only known by its inhabitants as "Gaia's Hideaway", often brought up in tales of heroism, and evil at the same time, this town has been burnt down more times than people can remember, by marauding bandits to primeless evils, its denizens endure, whilst the rest of the lands around this town are bleakened by the snow of this icy north lands, this small, quiet glade in the mountains where the town rests is green and lush, where life really shouldn't thrive, it does.

This life was peaceful for Alvaron, often the dreamer he would sit upon the watch tower at the Village gates, gazing upon the lands where the green melds with the white in a blur, watching the animals skitter about frantically as the Wolves prowled to and fro in search of food, he liked wolves he had decided, he was going to see if father, in all his infinite wisdom or so he was told, would be able to catch a cub as a pet for him. Several days later, his insistent nagging had actually resulted in, a pet wolf, now, Alvaron's youthful optimisn gained him a few scratches and bites from the Wolf as it grew, but quickly friendship became apparently, it also became apparent he had developed the same ability many of the denizen's of the Hideaway had, they had a innate ability to converse with animals, much to his jubilation ofcourse, as he grew older, eventually old enough to seek his own estate and holdings, at the age of eighteen, he left home, he had clearly decided that whilst the Hideaway was his home, where his heart lay, it was too 'dull' for him, life was to be lived and it was out there!

Weeks passed and Alvaron, and his Wolf who had accompanied him, where its name had finally been decided between the two of them after their youthful days, to be Whitemane, upon this day in question, they finally left the white, rolling snows of the mountain passes, and had entered forest lands, dense with foiliage and vegetation, with life scurrying everywhere, like a busy city if Alvaron knew what was one was, all he could hear was the animals speaking, the bugs constant hissing, which was quite interesting after a few days of listening, the birds talk of the skies and the passing fox scampering to safety from larger predators, larger than he, these predators, also happened to be the first reason to ever cause him to draw his sword that he had been gifted by his father on leaving, his father's sword from his days in the past wars.

Bloodied and battered, he and Whitemane barely escaped alive, being rushed by a grizzly bear is not fun, he can vouch for that, it also gave him a realization, he needs to be able to protect himself and Whitemane. Wandering for weeks, having learned within the Hideaway how to forrage, hunt and cook, Alvaron kept himself and Whitemane, well kept and looked after, Whitemane more so looking after himself but Alvaron finds that unimportant, after weeks of this, they descended upon civilization, towering spires and walls being the first notice of it, soon they came upon a large city, by all appearances, preparing for war, and here, is where Alvaron is conscripted into the army against his will, and here, is where Whitemane is left behind, in fear of being caged or killed, Whitemane flees at Alvaron's urging, never to be seen until a long time in the future.

Several years passed, Alvaron had aged, he was no longer the smiling faced, optimistic and bouncing lad he was, he was not with his best of friends Whitemane, he was alone, surrounded, yes alone but surounded, by those who salute him and call him sir, army life had been harsh to him but it granted him valuable lessons, and those lessons had been put to the test in many battles, all of which he'd won, with others seeking to follow him but him never seeking to lead, pestered with the idea of promotion and being a leader of a army, Alvaron was tired, in his brief breaks he sought to get back to nature as he used to be, a small shard within him sang to him, telling him to run, that things were coming, he agreed, things were coming and he wouldn't let them happen if they were that bad as he thought, this, is where Alvaron, becomes a deserter of the army he dwelt in, he will return to his roots he decided, he will become that wandering soul again and see just why this part of him sings so loudly to him.

(Whilst I know this character may seen rather.. specific, to a previous RP universe, his general character can be molded onto other universes, his history and biography can easily be changable, but otherwise his personaility, appearance, mannerisms and such would be the same.)