Name: Finnufarinel "Finn" (pronounced Fin - oo - fair - eh - nel)Stage: Prentice
Race: Yaeli
Gender: Male
3 Base Traits: Insatiable, Witty, Calamitous
Personality:
For this guy, life revolves around one thing; food.
There's never been a time in Finn's memory when there was ever enough food. Without a steady home or the certainty of daily meals, Finn, as a result, always feels hungry; even when he's not. His body is impossible to satisfy, which is why he started turning to theft to fill his needs. He'll rob your pantry blind if you don't watch out! In most instances he'll hoard back anything he manages to come away with, though on a rare occasion he may share with someone he deems 'deserving'. These are usually other street rats, kids mainly, who wouldn't be able to get it on their own.
This is definitely one guy you do not want to take to an 'all you can eat' anything. He's the type to gorge himself until he's sick...and then try again a few hours later.
Finn wants to help when he can, since he knows the pain of hunger all too well, but there's always that part of him that resents having to miss any meal. These internal struggles usually leave him irritated and unfocused, making him more likely to snap. If in these moments the very kids he's trying to help are frightened and run off that just makes him feel worse.
That being said, Finn can become irritable and downright wolfish when he's hungry. In his mind he's starving, even if he isn't. This distemper has gotten him into more than a few fights, eventually landing him with a nasty reputation. He's been referred to as 'feral' more times than Finn cares to admit, or rather, would care to admit if he knew the meaning of the word.
Inheriting his father's quick wit, Finn has grown into a smart mouthed young man. He's got snappy come backs for anyone's sass, usually followed up by some sort of grin or even by sticking his tongue out. It's a defense mechanism around the larger, more aggressive street punks. As ready as he is to start up a fight, Finn's a very small boy, and even with all of his spunk he just wouldn't stand a chance in a physical fight. So, when he isn't looking for ways to hide or stab them in the back, he uses his words. He finds a sort of pride in being able to disarm and stump his opponents through verbal wit alone. As always, this is most often employed when either defending his food from bullies, or when he wants to distract someone as he steals their snacks.
However, unlike his brother, Tac, Finn has no desire to put his growing intelligence to any real use. Book learning is just something he has no way of accessing right now, not that Finn has any desire to try. He detests reading, studying is a bore, and having to sit down to focus on any of it is as good as torture for him. He's a 'hands on' learner. Any lesson that is taught to him has to be interactive, or it simply goes through one ear and out the other. Dusty old scrolls and tomes aren't going to fill his belly, so why bother?
The one true connection he still has with his brother is their affinity for magic. However, he is much less controlled than Tac. Finn likes magic; he also likes it when things go boom! In these moments he can truly let loose. Magic for him is a source of excitement, and while he shows great talent for it, what few tutors he could con into talking to him refused to teach him. It's simple. They were smart enough to fear what a chaotic magic user might inflict upon the world.
This isn't his intent, however. Finn isn't mean spirited (at least, not when he's full). He just likes living on the edge. Even his own mother compared him to a natural storm; something pure, beautiful, but ultimately too wild to be contained.
Description: Finn is a short, scrawny little wisp of a street rat. This boy's got scars; some he can remember receiving, but most he can't. They're just a part of him now. (CC on placement/size/number, though like the ref, he should have one gnarly one crossing his face).
His skin has some faint freckling, though one would be hard pressed to find them now beneath the scars. Skin tone and hair color/style should be like the ref.
Most of the crystal placement/sizing is CC, though I would like some to match his brother.
Clothing: (Ignore clothing in ref) No shirt, a pair of tattered/patched pants
Accessories: A simple leather corded necklace, with a rune acting as a pendant. It's symbol is that of protection; a gift from his father just before leaving for the war. His brother has a similar necklace, making this Finn's most valued possession. While he knows there is no actual magical qualities to it, at least, not unless activated by a user, it gives him peace.
History: All great legends spring from humble beginnings.
Long before the alkidike extremists ever made their way to Sauti, a little family lived peacefully in Yael. They were nestled in the settlement of Pajore, safely tucked away in the country's capitol. Their story is one of great love, as well as great tragedy...
It all began with a young mage who frequently traveled for training and more knowledge in his art. Eager in his studies, Parheath had wandered in a nomadic fashion, going from village to village with his books and notes. After hearing tale of an accomplished teacher in Illidan, Parheath journeyed to seek him out. Such a man was found, but declared no time or patience wannabe pupils. However, the scholars’s daughter, Miv, was smitten instantly. Parheath was a rugged man with a quick wit to boot. She was of the softer sort, and playful; a perfect match.
The young mage had found something much more precious in Ilidan than knowledge. His love for Miv had been strong, and he was overcome with joy when she announced she was expecting. Magic was set aside in favor of a merchants job; something simple and quick to see coin. It didn't bring much fortune to the couple, but the stability earned them a place to live.
The birth of Tacrith came with great joy and great sorrow. Miv passed mere moments after bringing her son into the world, but not before her child gazed upon his mother. It was a simple act; one of an innocent babe seeking out it's mother, and yet, it was enough to give Miv peace. Unable to muster enough energy to be scared of her coming end, Miv passed easily into death with her arms wrapped tight about her infant son. Heartbroken, Parheath took his son back to the settlement of his birth, and thus his adventuring days came to an end.
Tac was raised with the assistance of Parheath's parents, and grew into a quiet sort of boy. Reserved, with an eagerness to learn that matched his fathers. Tacrith spent his days admist the tomes of old, avoiding the very same children that sought to mock him simply for being himself. There was a lot of concerned rumors circulating about Tacrith's origins, the most prevalent being that he was cursed and that was the reason his mother had passed during his birth. It certainly didn't help that the boy would rather have spent his time studying than socializing, thus giving more fuel to the rumor mill. It seemed to be a never ending cycle, one that Tacrith had long since accepted. At the time, his studies and family were enough for the boy. Little did he know that life would take an interesting turn.
Shortly after his third name day, Parheath took his son to meet what would soon be his new 'mother'. She was a very warm, very plump Limbara tamer by the name of Yuura. The younger woman had come to love Pajore so much that she moved from Jodove just to live there. She had little in the way of family, and with no strong attachments to those who remained, the move came easily enough to her. For years there was little to occupy her beyond her scaly friends; the young were as good as her own children, and their parents were trusted confidants. Lovers came and went with the seasons. That is, until she met him.
There was a time in which Parheath had been the pursuer, but this time it was not so. Yuura had set her sites on the man from the moment they first spoke. She was the bold sort; the kind of creature who got what she wanted in the end. And indeed, Yuura was very pleased when Parheath finally came around. Not only was she gaining a husband, but a son as well! Young Tac, who was apprehensive at first, soon came to understand that Yuura didn't care about his 'curse'. As far as she was concerned Tac was a blessing, and a wonderfully charming young man. She accepted him as he was; as a true mother should.
Soon after the union of Parheath and Yuura a second son was born. The babe was to be named Finnufarinel, after the great Limbara tamer of old who was said to have been born straight from Yael's soil. He whose legends had resonated so deeply within Yuura that it shaped her very way of life.
In what seemed like mere moments the babe grew and grew some more. He fussed with his scaly brethren, chased after his brother with a ferocity only known to children, and played so hard that he would often fall asleep as soon as he stopped moving. Yuura remained in constant awe of his unyielding fountain of energy, and often told him that if he had been born with fins he would have swam away years ago. For a time all was well.
But alas, as the saying goes, "all good things must come to an end".
When the 'strangers' landed on Yael, Parheath and Yuura were exploring the Western reaches of the island. While the family home remained in Pajove, the family had decided to explore the land as Parheath had done in his youth. It seemed a good way to expose their sons to nature, and to show them basic survival techniques. At the time they were unaware of the dangers they were moving closer and closer towards.
It was only when the family moved closer to the coast that they discovered the horrible, ugly truth; they were not alone. A scouting group of alkidike happened upon their camp in the dawn's light, and attacked. What Limbara Yuura had brought with her battled the warriors as best they could, alerting the still sleeping family very quickly as to what was happening just outside of their tents. Parheath reached for his runes while his wife grasped her whip. Both parents struggled with leaving their sons, but it was ultimately decided that they had no choice. They would have to fight these creatures, or be killed themselves.
Finn didn't want his parents to leave; he attached himself to his mother's hip, pulling at her skirt with clenched hands. He bawled and pleaded with her not to leave him. She did her best to shush her son, and told him that they wouldn't be gone for long at all. All he needed to do was be a quiet boy, and stay close to his brother. Seeing how distressed his youngest had become spurned Parheath into stepping forward. He presented his sons with identical necklaces; simple things, really, but the pendant was a true rune stone. He touched the runes, illuminating them with light as he murmured a vague spell. In his heart he knew the magic would fade the moment he stepped away, but hopefully it would be enough to comfort his sons.
"Wear these, and know that we're with you always. Talk to them as you would us; tell them your joys, your fears, your sorrows and your victories. Your runes are the same, and do you know why? They are to remind you each day that the greatest spells in the world can never match the sanctuary given to you by your brother."
Parheath embraced both of his boys before exiting the tent with his wife on his heels. Although he could see little beyond vague shadows across tent covering, Finn could hear it all. He clung to Tac and tried his best to remain quiet, but the sounds coming from outside...the screaming, the explosive sounds of magic, the charging Limbara...
All at once Yuura returned, coated with blood both from her wounds and those of her enemy. She scooped Finn into her arms, grasped Tacrith's hand and told them both to run. His mother whistled thrice, summoning a mulish creature to her side. Finn asked over and over where their father was, but Yuura couldn't answer. How was she supposed to explain that Parheath was dead, when they very well might follow him soon? Most of Yuura's 'battalion' were mortally wounded or dead, only having taken down a handful of the freakish attackers. She placed Finn atop the beast, then heft Tac up to sit behind him. The action had already drawn more than a few looks their way, and Yuura wasted no time in ordering the creature to run. When it hesitated she used her own whip on it's flank, jump starting the beast into a dead run.
Any thought of escape was cut off by the pounding thuds of an alkidike rider chasing after them. Their mount took hard turns, trying to throw off it's pursuer, but the strange thing she rode was faster, even on such unfamiliar terrain. On one such curve their mount jumped into a shallow ravine, and the force of the landing knocked Finn from his seat. He struggled to hang on, to grasp onto his brother, onto anything, but found himself falling. The spooked creature kept on, unconsciously separating the boy from his only surviving family. The alkidike rider sailed over the ditch, too keen on chasing after Tac to notice the prey she left behind. In an instant both were out of sight, leaving Finn on his own.
While he may have been spared, Finn knew in his heart that Tacrith wouldn't be. Too scared to call out for him, the boy remained in his ditch throughout the day and long into the night until the chill forced him to move. He traveled up the coast line, doing his best to stay as hidden as possible. Days turned into months, and months became a year before Finn finally felt brave enough to seek out others. He had scraped by in the woods as best he could, but the boy was tired, so tired, and fearful that every day would be his last.
Naked, bruised and half starved the boy stumbled his way towards a fisherman's boat. If only he had known that this man, this burly, angry man wasn't a potential savior then perhaps he would have taken his chances in the woods.
Lyr was a shrewd, cruel man with little in the way of possessions or coin. He was getting on in years when a young Finn bumbled into his life, babbling on about horrible demons with black eyes. Of course he knew what they were; he also knew where not to go to avoid them, but the boy...Finn didn't know these demons were just strangers who had been dumped here, just like their ancestors. He thought they were true demons, come to wipe out every Yaeli they saw, and Lyr used that to his advantage.
Since he lived on his own in an isolated shack by the coast, Lyr was able to spin a convincing lie. He told Finn that there was no safe place for him on the island, but so long as he worked for Lyr then whenever the demons came after them they could both use the boat to get away. Traumatized and desperate, Finn eagerly believed every word.
At first he didn't argue when Lyr forced him to do tasks well beyond what a child was capable of. He kept trying, forcing himself to do a little more each day, but nothing seemed to please the old man. It made Finn anxious and irritable. At any moment the old man might toss him out because he wasn't pulling his weight, and then where would he be? Dead, just like his family.
Any 'mistake' was punishable, no matter the severity. Finn was often whipped, forced to sleep outside (even during foul weather), and forced to work whole days by himself while Lyr 'supervised'. What he hated the most, however, was when Lyr would refuse to feed him. Food was something that was 'earned', and when Finn messed up he went without. Some nights Lyr would even eat in front of the child just to prove his point, knowing full well Finn had done nothing wrong and hadn't had a scrap to gnaw on in days.
By the time he was ten Finn assumed Yael had been over run by tall, buglike women. The Gods had either forsaken them, or sought to punish them; either way, Finn wasn't staying any longer than he had to. In his mind they didn't have much longer before the demons found them, and every night he prayed to his families spirits to give him the strength to last just one more day. One more day to grow up just enough so that when he ran away he could make it.
Unfortunately, lack of proper nutrition stunted Finn's growth. Even in his early teens he was small; much smaller than he should have been. So, when Lyr announced he would be leaving for a few weeks, supposedly on a 'scouting' trip, Finn seized his chance. He was going to raid Lyr's shack and eat anything he could get his hands on. When the day finally came for his guardian to leave, Finn hid himself outside of the shack, barely keeping patient enough for the old man to leave...
...when he heard Lyr talk about something strange. He mentioned the festival, which left Finn stumped. Why would they still be having a festival to remember Gods that had forsaken them? Confused and more than a little curious, Finn chose to trail Lyr on his 'trip'. What he found infuriated him.
A settlement. A thriving, full blown settlement with vendors selling sweet meat and small children running around with ribbons in their hair. Just what was going on? It was obvious that Lyr had lied to him, but if everything he knew was a lie...then what was the truth?
Deciding to stay for the time being, Finn turned his hatred into a fuel for his own survival. The desperation to fill his stomach at times has driven the boy to morally corrupt acts. He'll steal from anyone with little regard as to their personal situation so long as it suits his own needs. He's a jaded youth whose quick temper has brought him to the edge of murder many a time.
After all, what good are morals when no one around you really cares if you have them?
