Mistwalker
Details
Full Name: Jared Gloomcrest (Draedan Name: Vendrel)
Race: Human (Draedan of Saren, Corrupted God of Time, Fate, and Decay)
Sex: Male
Age: 30
Height: 5'4ft
Weight: 136lbs
Birthdate: 15th Glacial Dusk, 4593
Birthplace: Alistian, The Northern Marches, Daravin;
Mageblight: Nil - Use Divinity instead
Profession: Petty Thief
Housing: Run-down cottage in the slums of Alistian (20x20)
Partners: Nil
Sexuality: Homosexual
Titles: Nil
Factions: Nil
Fluencies: Common, Gentevarese;
Likes: Meaningful Trinkets, Cooking (will never admit though), Stargazing, High places;
Dislikes: Being caught flat-footed, Heavy topics, Enclosed spaces, Rain/Getting wet;
Merits: Quiet, Inquisitive, Reflective, Hardworking;
Flaws: Cautious, Aloof, Insecure, Easily flustered;
Appearance
Having short, wavy, black hair that is paired with amber-hued eyes; Jared is a rather short human male who stands at about 5'4ft with a toned build;
Mostly covering his head in a black hood that is gilded with tarnished metal designs on the edge of the seams & a black cloth that covers his mouth and nose.
Beneath the physical covers reveals a scarred, jagged slash on the edge of his right lip.
Personality
Mostly needed to fend for himself due to growing up mostly as an urchin; It is a bit difficult for Jared to get close to people;
Putting on a mask to appear rather rough on the surface but with a bit of patience and time; This particular thief is a rather quirky guy who just has a hard time speaking with others.
History
Living off of the streets of Alistian for the majority of his life; Never really knowing much of the warmth of simple hearth or loving gestures of a mother's love.
Jared Gloomcrest started off life with a simple view of life that those who did not strive to live were destined to decay into nothing.
Determined to grow as a person in any matter possible. Jared quickly adopted many skills & tactics to avoid succumbing to hunger and a cold embrace of death;
From pickpocketing to opening shoddy locks; Running across the rooftops of Alistian to scurrying away from authority.
The only times he felt free from his mundane life was during the time his body could sore through the skies.
Yet most of his mundane life would quickly change when he picked the wrong mark on one of his days of thievery;
It so happened that he crossed a reclused mage whose ire burned brightly and would stop at nothing until the petty thief was caught and died by his hands;
Quickly apprehended, Jared was quickly force-fed a mass amount of black, viscous fluid which forced the young male to squirm, struggling to breathe.
It all seem like a hazy to the young street urchin, as his body felt heavy, almost lifeless as his body was quickly beaten, whipped and bruised until the mysterious mage had enough and walked off. Leaving the young man for dead knowing that the petty thief will die one way or another; whether from the injuries inflicted or whatever the fluids which were forced upon Jared kill off his organs.
With barely any strands of life lingering in his body & soul; Jared weakly dragged his worn & bruised body to a quiet, abandoned alleyway where he believed his final thoughts were laid to bear.
Recalling how lucky some people were, how his life was essentially sniffed out by a wave of someone's hand and how much he wanted to defy the odds in this painful world; So many things he wanted to do and be free of but exhaustion & pain lulling him to dreamless sleep; an echo of anguish & hopelessness yet burning brightly with defiance.
In what seems like ages or even eons, it was only when Jared started to come into the world; Did he realise that he was alive... Beaten, scarred & in much pain but alive nonetheless, Jared quickly limped his way over to the safety of alleys. Biding time to recover, needing to understand why he is alive now and what he has become.
After that particular encounter, Jared spent many years improving his skills in thievery, making a living out of it; but also discovering and teaching himself this odd form of manipulation of darkness must that is still unknown to him or what it is but something that he plans to keep to himself and further experiment and manifest in all shapes and forms but also dealing with the consequences and trauma that was inflicted to his being but with all wounds, time is the only medicine.
