K A I N A N ~ W O L F E
Full Name: Kainan Wolfe, Talon Karr (Alias)
Race: Human (75%), Sil'Norai (25%)
Sex: Male
Age: Age Unknown, Mid Twenties (27 Years Old)
Height: 191 centimeters | 6'1"
Weight: 95kg | 209lbs
Birthdate: Unknown (13th Frost 4595)
Birthplace: Amoren (Daravin)
Profession: Freelance Mercenary
- Average Income: 8 df/day
Housing: None - Homeless
Partners: None
Titles: None
Factions: None
Fluencies: Common, Silvain
Conversationals: None
Ineptitudes: None
Appearance
An imposing figure with the appearance of a civilized brute, broad-shouldered with a soldierly build of corded muscle, Kainan is a tall man with distinctive, silver-colored hair, a trait betraying his Sil'Norai ancestry and thus, his aristocratic blood. His eyes are a dark brown, shrouded in shadow and often displaying a menacing scowl that hides a cold, calculating intellect. Despite his noble heritage, or perhaps due to the peasant blood from his mother's side, his features are rough, no doubt hardened by years living in the Badlands. A lifetime of violence has left a tapestry of scars carved into his flesh, from various weapons, accidents and, no doubts, torture incurred from crossing the wrong people.
Personality
A typically quiet and solitary man, Kainan tends to consider casual chit-chat to be a waste of time. A lifetime of hardship has shaped him into a guarded creature, a thing of rough edges and sharp wit with a sarcastic attitude towards life, qualities which keep others at a distance and that's just the way he likes it. A calculating man, Kainan often takes a no-nonsense, strictly functional approach to dealing with any situation and rarely treats anything lightly or without careful planning and consideration. Beneath this hard and stoic shell is someone who's loyalty is, if earned, nearly unbreakable. And a calculating intellect often kept occupied with concocting complex strategies and plans that can be very subtle at first glance and take a long time to unfold while the ever-patient mastermind weaves his web and slowly moves his pieces into play.
History
The first thing Kainan remembers is the hunger. In spite of his evidently aristocratic features, the first chapters of his life couldn't have been further from nobility if the gods came down and tried to make it so. Far from the glittering ivory towers and the opulence of his birthplace in Amoren, Kainan spend the first years of his life in a dirty, run-down orphanage in Daradan, where he was forced to learn his own kind of Candor, in which one had food he stole and lied and got away with it and where a crusty piece of stale bread or a shirt with less holes in it can be fought over just as viciously and with as much venom as the Entente's plots and schemes for power.
It was there, in the streets of that crime-ridden city, that Kainan swiftly learned that to survive, he'd better not offer his trust to anyone, as he witnessed far too many gullible fools following false promises and harebrained schemes that ultimately led to the yoke of slavery around their necks, or a knife in the back in a dark alley after they finished whatever errand they signed up for and were no longer useful and knew too much. It was a cruel world that taught him many harsh, but useful lessons.
Like so many others in the orphanage, Kainan took to crime at an early age. At first, snatching meagre wares from merchants' stalls while they were too distracted during busy market days, but quickly he learned that a far more effective way of having dinner was by beating it out of the hands of other urchins like himself. And then he learned that there were more valuable belongings he could obtain that way and people wealthier than his fellow orphans from whom he could obtain them. The overseers at the orphanage tried their best to put an end to this behavior, but there was never enough food to go around and as he grew older, the teacher's rod became less and less of a deterrent, especially as the magnitude of crimes increased, as did the dangers and the viciousness associated with them.
Forced into a life of bullying others for the things he needed to survive, Kainan's journey followed a predictable path and it was not long until Kainan left the orphanage and graduated from petty crime to gang violence. And from fists to knives and eventually, swords. In a city rife with vicious gangs spurned on by the nobles' schemes for power, there was a living to be made for one who could take advantage of the gangs' rivalries and play them against eachother. And as is often the case with such stories, it wasn't long before he crossed someone who had a few too many connections higher up the food chain.
He was fifteen when he was forced to flee the city, the iron-fisted arm of the law not far behind on his trail. Alone, with nowhere to turn to and no coin or power behind his name, there was only one place he could go, where so many like him turned to only to swiftly end up dead: the Badlands. And unlike so many others before or since, he did not wind up as a dessicated husk in the desert. As it turned out, he had a knack for swinging a sword around, a keen eye for detail and a sharp mind capable of untangling complicated puzzles and swiftly processing information despite his near-complete lack of education. And another thing he had, was a thirst for knowledge.
There, he made a living out of plying his skills at violence in exchange for coin, which he exchanged for the things he needed and when he couldn't, he simply took them by force. He spent his years on the road, working as a mercenary and exploring old ruins, mostly in the Badlands, but not exclusively, having traveled as far as Sil-Elaine on a number of occasions, never putting down roots or remaining in one place for too long, or making many friends along the way. In a world as harsh and unforgiving as Atharen, Kainan found his niche in the shadows of society, another vicious vulture picking and clawing at the edges of it all.
