Character Profile Thread

This is where you will publish your characters. The convention (and I ask you stick to it) is as follows:

Name:
Age:
Gender/Sex:
Appearance:
Personality:
Backstory:
Other: (and this section will usually be filled with random details from religion to sexuality to other strange things like...I don't know, maybe the character has a really high-pitched voice or something.)

(source cited: A conversation with my expert advisor in these matters; Knifey.)

Here is my attempt at a character for this (that's right, in this version we don't have GM's so I can be a PC!!!) Resurrecting my second ever PC from my DnD experience (and by far my favourite, despite having a Munchkin DM that wanted to kill the party the whole time). This has got a tick of approval from my expert consultant,so should loosely represent what we want (though if anyone more experience in this then me gets one up before you, use them for inspiration). so here we go...

Name: Meridia Eveningblade
Gender/Sex: Female
Age:
Meridia does not keep track of her age anymore, though suspects she is about 130
Race: Augmented Moon Elf
Appearance:
Meridia has Jet black hair, pale skin, red eyes. She stands at a short 4’ 6” and is quite lithe at 96lbs.
Personality:
(Alignment: LE) Meridia is first and foremost a cold hearted killer, her killings are done ruthlessly and without mercy, but Meridia maintains a strong sense of honour in what she does. Well versed with social and leadership skills, but has a general inability to be a sociable person, preferring to be emotionally distant from those around her. In she prefers to stay back, assessing her opponents and striking at the right time. When surprised she is more likely to flee and recoup then stand and fight.
Back-story:
Meridia Moontreader was born to two mages of the Arcane College in Silvermoon, her mother Amra was a gifted Illusionist, her father Saeval was the Magos Errant of the college, a prestigious title awarded to the mage which demonstrates great breadth of ability.  Much therefore was expected of their first child, who was enrolled in the academy before she was even born. From a young age, she was instructed in arcane law, dead languages and the arcane arts, but Meridia loathed the instruction. Despite having great potential, Meridia was not interested in magic, spending more time escaping the college then she spent in it. It was ironic that these escapes were what manifested her arcane abilities, and not the teachings of the Magos at the college, her “tricks” were not really spells, just minor manifestations of pure arcane power, but they served Meridia well in her endeavours. She found no appeal in escaping to the Swamps and Forests of the Silver Marches, instead finding solace in the exploration of the city. Meridia’s “expeditions” often lasted a few days, and normally ended with her being found by the either a college mage sent to find her, or by the city watch. But they still served to hone her skills, skills that she would have great need of soon.  
On the eve of her 83 birthday, Meridia once more escaped from the college, this time to avoid her arcane proficiency examination, already avoiding it twice, even with her parents influence, missing this third and final chance would have her struck from the enrolment books. Something was not right in the city though, people were afraid, rumours of an imminent Drow attack on the city filled the streets. Just before midnight, as she prepared to catch a few moments of rest in a back alley, Meridia was shock into full awareness has a loud explosion rocked the city. Curiosity getting the better of her, Meridia forced her way against the crowd to investigate the source of the disturbance. The sighted that greeted her was the charred remains of what used to be the Arcane College. Despite having no fond memories of the place, she despaired, as her parents, who were the only family she knew, had both been destroyed in one fell attack. Drow descended on the charred site, as the city went up in flames. But Meridia no longer cared, searching only for confirmation of the fate that befell her kin. Eventually she found the shocking evidence she sought. Two corpses identifiable only by a ring and a brooch, but these items were known well. The ring was plain silver, inscribed with an archaic rune, that was awarded to the Magos Errant. The broach was of a simple design, and showed a raven taking flight. Taking the ring and the brooch, she added them to a small necklace she wore around her neck, the simple pendent was a magical charm given to her when she was young, her father told her that he had made it herself, and that it would ward of danger as long as she wore it. Meridia’s morning was disrupted the by the entry of a pair of Drow soldiers who seized Meridia to take her captive. In a feeble attempt to escape Meridia lashed out with her limited arcane ability, blasting one of the Drow with pure energy, but alas, they had skill in the arcane arts and deflected the attempt. Meridia was knocked unconscious and loaded into wagons with other elves being taken captive. From then on, Meridia swore never to rely on magic.
The trip through the Underdark was long, beaten and wounded Meridia was ready to give up hope. The time spent travelling through the dark caves could not be measured, time there had no meaning, she knew not whether days, weeks or months had passed. Nor the direction in which they travelled. Her Drow were cruel, feeding their captives rarely, using them for sparring and duelling “practice”. At some point though, in that horrible trip something unexpected happened. On the approach to a portal that was to shorten the trip to the Drow’s home city, the raiding party came under attack by some daemons. In the struggle Meridia saw her chance to escape, she mustered all her skills and arcane powers available to her and began her escape.
At first Meridia experienced great success, managing to break out of her chains, and disabling the solitary guard the Drow had left. Taking from her former captor his dagger and plunging it into his chest. Her reaction to this, her first kill was cold, she felt no remorse for her victim, but didn’t savour or enjoy his death either. It was simply a mechanical act. Meridia stalked the shadows, slaying Drow and daemon only when necessary, her objective was escape, and despite the ease at which her targets fell she felt no inclination to simply slay all those around her. Her every move was cautious and calculated. When her freedom seemed so close at hand she underestimated a target, The Qarina sensed her approach and turned to face her. Meridia defence was feeble at best, scoring only a minor wound against the daemon. After a short scuffle the Qarina pinned and disarmed Meridia and dipping Meridia’s Dagger in its on wound first, lunged the blade into her torso. The pain was agonizing the Qarina left quickly leaving her victim to experience an agonizing death, the daemon’s blood acted like venom, burning in her veins. Meridia Felt her conscience slipping and descended into darkness.
Meridia was surprised when she awoke, alone in the dark, her body still in agonizing pain. A long moment was spent listening to her surroundings, all was silent. Slowly she attended to her wound, rapping her side to staunch the bleeding, though noted that her veins no longer boiled with the venom of the daemons. She stumbled through dark passages, attracted only by a beacon of arcane energy that she sensed, which she prayed would be the portal that would take her away from this place. After passing through the gateway, she was disappointed, as it lead her only to another place in the vast Underdark. She spent some time in those dark tunnels, raiding supply caravans for precious food and water, honing her skills further still as a hunter in the darkness. She carried only the dagger, which had put her through so much and a hand-crossbow, which she had stolen from a caravan, taking a liking to the unusual weapon. Garbed in mixture of leather she had stolen from her victims. Eventually she found her way to the surface, In an unfamiliar wilderness. Never having much skill for travelling in the wild places, she quickly became lost, until on the verge of death and starvation she was found by a human farmer who nursed her back to health. The first time Meridia saw herself in the mirror, she was shocked, no longer did she resemble her former self, her silver skin had gone pale and lost its lustre, hair going from white to black, and her eyes shifting from stone grey to deep red, obviously an effect from the daemons blood.
It was a good year until Meridia was fit for travel again, and she remained with the farmer for another year in an effort to repay her debt to him. Over this time she learnt that she had ended up in the nation of Amn, far south of her home of Silvermoon. While on the farm she became close friends with a crow, and after spending much time with it, bound the bird as her familiar. When she left, she made her way to the capital of the nation, Amn itself, hoping to find an application for her abilities. She discovered the prosperous Shadow Thieves’ guild there, and though hard work forced her way up the ranks, proving her to be a skilled thief and assassin. As she got higher into the ranks though, quickly she began to despise those around her. Meridia began to realize just how vicious and needlessly greedy the thieves were, and the way there assassins had no honour. Feeling the growing need to leave the organisation Meridia eventually tried to suspend her membership. But as a result of her skill, Meridia had become too knowledgeable in the inner workings of the guild, to integral to lose. In the night they came for her, in an attempt to take her life, silencing her threat. Those who came for her could not match her abilities though, and were quickly defeated. She did not take their lives though, as their deaths were needless. Meridia remained in Amn for some time, using her knowledge of the Shadow thieves to thwart them. Until in the thieves’ desperation, they caused the people of Amn to turn against Meridia, and she was forced to flee. During her time in Amn the received the name “the Eveningblade”, which she eventually adopted as her last name. Meridia felt she no longer deserved to use the name Moontreader.
Other:
Since leaving Amn, Meridia travelled northward to the swordcaost, and currently works as an assassin for hire at Waterdeep. During her time in Amn and through her travels she has come to worship Mask as her patron deity, but does so without much conviction. Currently Meridia owns a small number of “safe houses” in Waterdeep, and has a number of false identities. She owns a set of mithral chainmail, which is enchanted for silence and can magically change its form to appear to be normal clothing. In its natural form the chains appear jet black, and produces a magical aura making Meridia difficult to spot in shadows. Meridia still uses her dagger and a number of hand-crossbows, though both have been magically improved. Meridia maintains the ability to perform some arcane tricks, though they aren’t in anyway similar to the spells cast be wizards and sorcerers. Physically weak in both strength and toughness, she is highly agile in both body and mind, Meridia is quite attractive, even by elven standards, though her unique appearance often is disconcerting.
Based loosely on Rouge (5) / Warlock(1) / Assassin(4)

(And here, my poor friends, is my profile. :twisted:Enjoy.)

Name: Akmenos Sinsinger (alias: Elian of the Dusk, among others)

Gender/Sex: Male/Male

Age: 27

Race: Tiefling

Appearance: Akmenos, like all tieflings, contains a mixture of traits from both sides of his heritage. His skin is rather 'dusky', a reddish pink that immediately causes him to stand out from those whose blood is only human. His eyes are fully black and are naturally unsettling, though years of practised simpering have allowed him to use them in a more alluring manner. His facial structure borrows more from his human lineage, with a straight-edged nose and androgynous features. His tongue is also completely normal, though the same cannot be said for his teeth. While not as sharp-fanged as other tieflings may be, there is a definite point to them. Emerging from just above his hairline are two horns, large enough that a hood cannot contain them, but relatively plain. They curve slightly upwards. He keeps his nails sharp.
In terms of bodily structure, he is around 5'4' and leaning much more towards the lean end of the spectrum in regards to weight and form. Once he had a tail, but unpleasant experiences have resulted in it being sliced off, though there is still a small stump where it used to be. He has long, black hair, straight and glossy. He draws it back in a loose ponytail sometimes, but for the most part he leaves it out. His fringe grows around his horns, hanging just above his eyes.
He typically wears more rich and deeply coloured clothing, some of it earnt through less than lawful means, and some of it gifts from his 'current' lover. He prefers blacks, purples, browns, and reds, but will wear just about any colour if it comes in a decent shade. He tends to wear tunics in the aforementioned colours along with breeches, a belt with a few pouches, and when required, dark leather boots (though he has a preference for barefeet). He wears no armour, but when in public always wear a dark cloak with a hood (though he does not always keep the hood up). Around his neck is a Choker of Eloquence, as well as a simple chain with two rings attached. The rings and chain have no magical effects, though the first ring and chain are gifts from his beloved. The second ring however, was a gift from his decesed adoptive father. Around his wrists he wears Mithral Bells and on his hands he wears a pair of fingerless gloves. One of his fingers is adorned with a useful Lockpicking Ring. He keeps with him a Mask of Lies, if only so that he may call upon its disguise self ability, as tieflings are not always the most welcome of creatures. He also keeps several small daggers with him, often hidden amongst his clothes. He does keep a few on his belt though, but never flaunts them unless necessary.
(Magical Items: Choker of Eloquence, Mithral Bells, Lockpicking Ring, Mask of Lies. As a side note, he also has a lute, black with red and purple details and patterns. I'd consider it a Masterworks Lute. He doesn't often use the lute though, due to his preference to sing and dance, but when he needs to rest his feet he'll often pull it and play it while he sings.)

Personality: Akmenos appears, for the most part, as a loveable bardic rogue. He typically spends his nights singing, dancing, flirting, joking and drinking, stealing coin from both the wary and oblivious, whispering compliments in an ear while fliching gold from open pockets. His company is considered highly enjoyable, and though newcomers are often put off but his tiefling features, they are quickly drawn in by his irresistable charm and his lovely voice. His provocative dancing also appeals to some. Still, he is cautious where he performs and who he mingles with, for he knows his sort is unwelcome in most places, and his lack of care for the law already positions him in a dangerous place. Still, he can't resist the life of seedy decadence and always returns to it. A creature of chaotic joy he is, and he finds himself most comfortable with it.
Akmenos is more than just his hednoism and song, however. He carries the weight all tieflings carry, a lack of belonging and the burden of a dark heritage. He has lived most of his life as nothing more than an outcast, a freak with demonic ancestors to be scorned and hated and tormented. Thus what lies beneath his confidence is a man very fragile, one who struggles to trust others. It is easy to let himself be a performer, it is not so easy to let himself be angry or sad, especially since he finds he often loses himself to his demonic blood when unpleasant emotions take control. Thus while it can be easy to go along with his acts and befriend him in such a manner, it is difficult to gain his loyalty, and even more difficult to convince him that you yourself are loyal. He also dislikes when people bring up things about himself and constantly harrass him with them, such as his tiefling nature, or the fact that he is basically illterate.
Thus, it is a considerable feat that Akmenos has found the love of his life, a half-elven man by the name of Amarillis Drannordyr (or Amarillis StarSong). The relationship for the most part is healthy, though  Akmenos's devotion to Amarillis often brings out the brutal side of his heritage. Any threats aimed towards Amarillis often result in Akmenos losing his grip on the goodness and charm within him and turn him in a fairly nasty creature. Those who would bring the one he cares for to harm will find that misfortunate has come their way. Small slights often only end in stolen goods, but true threats and actual actions of violence or truly derogatory insults will often end with injury and in the most extreme cases, death (as in, if someone caused grievous bodily harm or was attempting to injure or psychologically destroy Amarillis, he'd probably kill them) . This is not only a sign of his loyalty and devotion, but also shows his fear of losing what he cares for, as well as the emotional instability that exists due to past abuse and his tiefling nature.
The relationship is healthy overall however, and aligning with his typical nature, Akmenos is a cheerful yet suave lover, a romantic tease, yet is deeply dedicated to Amarillis. Likewise, this attitude would carry over to any close friends, and to a lesser extent, any good or neutral alignments (except perhaps evil neutral). For even though he is often mistreated for his demonic heritage, Akmenos has a good heart.
To summarise his personality in an alignment, Akmenos is Chaotic Good. He can be a bit of a kleptomaniac at times, but you won't find him stealing from beggars. Yes, he drinks, he slept about -he doesn't anymore since he's in a relationship and has no desire to sleep around while he is with Amarillis-, he flirts, sings and dances and makes bawdy jokes, but I wouldn't say any of that is evil, simply chaotic. He can seem vain at times -inamusing ways, mostly-, but it's often just a cover for his understandable insecurities and pain, which he'll probably carry with him all his life -and which will most likely only intensify since Amarillis isn't living past Akmenos's opening post, ahah spoilers!-
Even in his most foul state, when his mind slips into the darkness that all tieflings have within, it is only as a reaction to horrible or evil deeds that drive him into a state of despair. The loss of those he cares for, and general cruelty send him into a state of brutality, not a desire to do horrific deads. It's not a good thing that he loses control, but it's never born out of any desire to do evil.
(This is a bit all over the place, unfortunately, but I think everyone gets the jist of what  he's like.)

Backstory: Akmenos was born to Ivildia and Yvard Cutter, a seemingly normal couple who lived just beyond Waterdeep in a small village. Their names were lost to Akmenos however, as when his parents and their midwife laid eyes upon his form, twisted by his demonic blood, they were horrified. As neither parent showed clear signs of demonic influence of any sort, they concluded that their child had been cursed in Ivildia's womb and, seeing him as an omen of all sorts of horror, took him out into Ardeep Forest and abandoned him there to die by exposure, or be devoured by whatever creatures lurked within the woods. Unbeknowst to either parent, Ivildia is the one who carried the tiefling blood within her, but due to her lack of tiefling features, and the fact the generations before her had only minimal signs of their demonic heritage and worked hard to hide them (if they even know of it), she was unaware of the dark heritage that lurked within her blood (beyond the strange bitterness she oft felt, as well as the scent of brimstone and the two slight bumps hidden by her hairline.)
Akmenos, seen as a horror to his parents, was left to die alone and defenseless. Luck smiled upon him however, or perhaps it was simply the practicality of the Moon Elves of Ardeep and their constant patrols, and he was discovered. While the Elves were wary of him, they could not simply leave a child to die and thus took him with them back to their village. There they took care of him until an elf came forward to take in the strange child, a man known as Adofaer Mathor. Adofaer was widowed and had lost his three children, and was known as being somewhat eccentric, but he had a good heart and thus came forward to take in Akmenos. Adofaer, eccentric that he was, had researched many things in slight detail, unable to ever find a topic to truly study. Upon adopting Akmenos however, and recognising him as a tiefling, he spent much of his time learning about how to take care of the small child while also being cautious of the darkness that could come forth from such a bloodline.
Naming the child after one of the tiefling's he researched, Adofaer made it his duty to raise the child with love, but it was a difficult task. A creature as strange as Akmenos with demonic features was difficult to protect. A target for the moon elf children to shun -for why should they care for a fiendish creature-, and often avoided by older elves, Akmenos was quickly isolated. Though Adofaer gave him as much love as he could, he could not save him from the prejudices of others. And perhaps they were understandable opinions too, for many tieflings were known for being devious and cruel creatures. But Akmenos, while often sad and bitter, was clearly not evil.
As Akmenos grew, at a rate that was much faster than the moon elves of Ardeep, Adofaer noticed he spent much more time alone, hiding amongst the trees. Sometimes he would find him in the hidden places of the forest, singing songs so sweet and yet sad that it drove him to tears. He would guide him back home and try to comfort him, but Akmenos grew more distant and sad. It all came to a head one day when Adofaer discovered bruises on his son. Terrified by what they might symbolise for his teenaged son, his child even if their blood was not the same, he followed Akmenos one day and discovered that he was being beaten by a small group of elves that were the moon elf equivalent of the tiefling age of sixteen. Adofaer naturally ran out to protect his son, and a very loud verbal fight began as Adofaer stood between Akmenos and his abusers. When the other elves were suitably cowed Adofaer and Akmenos went home, and Adofaer held his son all night, in a vain attempt to reassure himself he could protect his child from the horrors of the world, as he tried not to weep over how it unfair it all was. Akmenos was quiet during it all, but before they fell asleep he sang a song, one that held just a touch of hope, and Adofaer fell into his trance knowing his son was far from evil.
For the next two years father and son lived well. Akmenos's harrassers stayed away, fearing the wrath of Adofaer, who was now dubbed as a complete loon by many of his peers due to his love for his tiefling son. Akmenos himself showed many signs that he was recovery from the several years of abuse he had faced at the hands of the other elves, both physically and psychologically. He sung often and was not afraid to do it loudly, and danced. He showed his father sleight of hand tricks he had learnt, among other strange talents he had picked up. Together the two often wandered the woods, and Adofaer was impressed by his son's growing skills. While he was cunning in combat, sneaky and quick, he was also an empowering ally, his songs and movements using the magic of music and dance to bring strength and power to those he fought beside. It was also during this time that Adofaer carved a ring for Akmenos, a small thing made of the woods of the duskwood and blueleaf tree.
But good things do not last for long, and things took a drastic turn for the worst for Akmenos and Adofaer. Ardeep Forest was attacked, by a mad warlock. The woman had made a contract with demons, and in search of lives to take to fulfil her mad desires she stumbled into the woods and began slaughtering the elves. It was in this attack that Adofaer lost his life, taking an attack meant for Akmenos, for he could not bare to lose his son. At the sight of his dead father, the only person who truly cared for him, Akmenos went briefly mad with grief, and with a terrifying cry that was a mixture of his bardic talents and his fiendish heritage, he terrified the warlock and then killed her, digging his daggers deep into her flesh before ripping her apart. The sight was foul and the elves were disgusted by it. Akmenos paid them no heed though, when he came back to himself. Shaken by his own self-hate and horror at how monstrous he had been, it could not overcome the deep sorrow he felt as he wept over the body of his father. The elves had to pry him from Adofaer's body, and at least one had the decency to hold him while he wept as they took the corpse away to be burnt along with the other victims. He was allowed to attend as they put the bodies to the torch and them sent the ashes loose into the woods.
Several months passed, and finally Akmenos was able to tear himself out of the depression he had fallen into. He remained unhappy, but he refused to allow himself to fall back into the state of madness he had been in, singing strange rhymes to himself in his father's house and talking as if Adofaer was still there. Instead he forced himself to leave the house and seek out some form of work in the village. But no longer did he have the protection his father's love had afforded him, and his demonic outburst still lingered in the mind's of the moon elves, rightfully frightened by the beast they had seen him become. They forgot the signs of his love for his father, the tears he had shed, and instead all could only see the fiendish blood in him. Thus he was an outcast once more, but this time none would stand for him, and the few that did no fear him saw him as a target once more, and treated him as such. He was harrassed constantly, though for the most part he endured it. He got back at his abusers however by constantly stealing their possessions, taking their money and other precious objects and either spending it, selling it, or destroying it. He made up songs to mock them, imbued with magic to make their them weaker, and when they tried to attack him he would dance around them, ducking and dodging to make a game of their harrassment.
Finally his attackers snapped, and turned to violent measures. During his nineteenth year, those who had bullied him attacked him, and much more brutally than ever before. Somewhat terrified, Akmenos responded in kind, attacking with what force he could. While he did not lose himself to his demonic side, fear still drove him, fear for his life. And thus, Akmenos took one his attacker's life. When the moon elf fell dead, all was silent. Both the elves and Akmenos stared in shock and horror at the dead corpse. Then the elves fell on Akmenos with renewed fury. They disarmed Akmenos and then, in an act of rage they ripped his tail apart as they beat him. The noise eventually drew an older elf patrol to them, and they were pulled apart before the elves could kill Akmenos.
Akmenos was taken away to recover for a brief period of time, after which he was brought before a council of elven officials. Due to the fact the killing was an accident, he would not be punished as harshly as he could have been, but for his actions and the fact that many elves found him to be a dangerous figure, he was exiled from Ardeep Forest. His attackers were punished too, but none were exiled as he was. Frustrated and upset, Akmenos returned to Adofaer's house, collecting what few belongings he owned, and supplies, and then left. Before he did though, he sang a final song for the place in which his father had raised him, a song so sad it drove him to tears.
Thus, Akmenos journeyed away from Ardeep. He took to traveling at night when he was less likely to be seen, and always wore a hooded cloak to hide his features from the eyes of others. Those who did see him often chased him away, frightened or angered by the obvious signs of a fiendish ancestry. Thus he spent many months simply wandering through the wilderness, occasionally sneaking and stealing rations from other travellers. Alone he spent much time thinking, contemplating his existence as those left to their own thoughts are wont to do. Knowing that he would always be considered an outcast, never wanted or accepted among the common people the way many other races could be, that people like Adofaer were the exception rather than the rule, he came to a decision. That he would not be what they thought he was, for deep down he knew he wasn't, and that he would find happiness as himself, for there was no point gaining happiness pretending to be anyone else. At its core, the decision was simply 'I will not be the evil creature they think I am, and I will not be unhappy nor will I pretend to be someone I am not, though the world gives me cause to be both those things.'
Upon coming to this understanding with himself, he found his heart a little lighter. Thus with a cheerful tune he began his journey to, well, wherever. Along the way he encountered a band of adventurers. Though wary, they had seen much and allowed him to approach and eat with them. As he did, he sung and danced merry and bawdy tunes, some he had made up, and others he had stolen from groups that had passed him by. He told jokes, and found it quite easy to make banter and flirt. The group was at ease with his presence, and responded in kind. He found he had a talent for the wit and snark required for such things, and though it was rusty and had been used for mostly insults in his earlier years, it lay within and he had found a way to access it that was fun.
Thus for a while he travelled with this strange little group around the edges of Waterdeep. The more time he spent with them, adventuring, visting taverns, and performing for whatever villages they came across, the more he enjoyed it. He found ways to utilise the unease he caused by converting it into other things. Black orbs for eyes were unsettling to most, but with a flutter of lashes they became exotic and eeriely alluring, and with a sneer they became intimidating. The former approach was his preferred one however, as he found the less he had to resort to violence and threats, the more he enjoyed himself. Life was a merry thing of base pleasures and deep emotions, and his demon's blood did not change that fact. The horrible things he had faced did not change that.
Several years passed and Akmenos had truly settled into his new lifestyle. His fellows (a dwarf known as Gazran Macecrusher, a human called Evan Agherean, a wood elf called Shanta Faernos, a halfling known only as Sneaksnitch, and an elan named Adzriel of Dawn) and he made their rounds of the land, never straying too far from the edges of Waterdeep but not often entering the city. For their occasional forays into the city, the group bought for Akmenos a Mask of Lies, to protect him from the dangers a creature like him would face. He accepted, for he knew very well the assumptions that were made about beings like him, but only wore it when necessary, and otherwise left it off and stuck only to his hood, if he even needed it. And with his Mask of Lies, he created aliases, his favourite being the half-elven Elian of the Dusk. But ultimately, he was comfortable, happy. When his insecurities reared their ugly heads, he swallowed them and sang and danced, stole and drank, joked and chatted until they were drowned by his joy. But his adventures. He and his companions were close, and once again they ventured out into the world.
It was then, during one of their average forays into the surrounding villages and towns near Waterdeep that Akmenos and his friends encountered Amarillis Drannordyr. The man was impossibly charmining, and Akmenos spent most of his time in the village practically swooning over him, or flirting rather obviously. His companions were both amused and dismayed, and eventually urged him into accompanying Amarillis into Waterdeep, where the half-elven man intended to build a home for himself. Unable to deny his desire to accompany Amarillis, Akmenos told his friends to visit him when they passed through again, and then set off with the man. Amarillis was surprisingly content with Akmenos's tiefling nature, having lived a very strange life filled with very odd things. The two got along very well, trading banter back and forth, but still able to cease and have deep conversation. Amarillis adored Akmenos's song and dance, and supported his attempts at the lute, an instrument he had only recently started playing at the request of his adventuring friends. He was also impressed by Akmenos's skill with his blades, and Akmenos in turn was impressed by his newfound friend's own talents, a man who had been partially trained in the arts of the wizard, but had eventually turned to the path of the ranger.
Thus the two journeyed to Waterdeep, Akmenos donning his Mask of Lies and Amarillis entering as naught but himself. Amarillis brought himself a home and built upon it, turning it into an inn known only as 'the Dusk', after Akmenos's alias. It was built in a somewhat obscure area of the city, obvious enough to attract the investigative and curious customer, but hidden enough to avoid the eyes of those more lawful. Good enough for business, but safe enough for Akmenos to, at times, reveal himself and sing and dance, 'the Dusk' attracted a crowd of ethical hedonists, vigilantes, and a decent amount of chaotic adventurers looking for a place to shout their bawdy tunes and drink themselves under the table without repurcussion. At this time, Amarillis had asked if Akmenos would like to live with him, something Akmenos naturally accepted. Only a few months later, the two had finally confessed their affections for one another and considered themselves lovers. At the time, Akmenos was twenty-three.
For the next four years, Akmenos and Amarillis spent their time in 'the Dusk' (though Akmenos at times ventured out to other taverns to revel in a different sort of chaos once in a while), or wandering about the streets of Waterdeep. At times they even conducted vigilante work, accepting subtle offers from patrons of their inn, or investigating rumours they heard from drunk customers. Akmenos's friends eventually discovered and visited them, reveling in the joyous madness that was 'the Dusk'. Singing, dancing, drinking the night away. And for the most part Akmenos remained undiscovered by those who would harm a tiefling, or hate a tiefling, though for the most part he was able to be himself in 'the Dusk' without repercussions (for who cared what you were when you made good banter and sung like a siren?)The past four years have been filled with much joy for Akmenos, and Amarillis, who have now forged a bond incredibly strong. Though throughout the years Akmenos has become involved in one or two darker dealings (most involved with threats to himself for being a tiefling -or for being a bit of  kleptomaniac-, or with attempts/attacks against Amarillis). But for the most part, these past four years have been a joyful thing for him.
But who knows what will happen when the Shades attack? Well I do. And if you read the spoiler above, you know exactly what horrible thing is going to happen because I am a big jerk.

Other: He's a Bard/Rogue, though I haven't done any specific skills or spells or anything. Whenever he goes into angry tiefling filled with grief mode I imagine his wisdom takes a massive dive. Strength is also probably his dump stat. He'll flirt with any gender, but ultimately he's only interested in men (so he's gay), and beyond that he's dedicated to Amarillis -and will still be for some time after the poor man's untimely demise). As mentioned above, he's illiterate, but he's not stupid. He just never learnt. Adofaer tried to teach him at some points, but Akmenos was depressed a lot during this period of his life and never learnt, and now the idea of learning to read just makes him feel awkward.

(DM, feel free to read over and if there's anything in here you take issue with, feel free to point it out. I await your approval...by going back to work on N'Miir's profile, oh good god. As a side note, the profile does get a bit muddled at some points, apologies for that. I should be writing better stuff.   I am failing as our thespian!)

Outline:

Eriadon Sanivol is the last member of an ancient order of celestial beings intent on keeping the Shades and their city, Thultanthar, in the Plane of Shadows. The modern order is but a shadow of its former self, and the members are mostly descendants of greater, celestial beings. In the year 1372, the Shades finally managed to break free of the Plane of Shadows, due to the weakened state of the order. They escaped the Plane of Shadows, and appeared over the Dire Wood. The Shadovar proceeded to head towards Anauroch, and then laid waste to the headquarters of the Order located in the desert. Eriadon was the sole survivor.

Name: Eriadon Sanivol
Race: Human
Age: 371
Gender: Male
Class: Planeswalker
Alignment: Lawful/Neutral

Appearance: Neither young or old, but somewhere in the middle (as a result of his slow aging and immortality). Greying blondish hair, dark blue eyes, medium height (about 5'9"). He usually wears the robes of the Order, but while travelling (as in this story), he wears dark, inconspicuous travel clothes, including a midnight blue travel cloak. He wears several rings on his fingers, a tradition of the Order, which all represent an aspect of the Planes.

Personality: Usually, Eriadon is a solitary and serious man, who is pragmatic yet compassionate, and has a deep sense of honour and duty instilled in all members of the Order. He is however easily overcome by emotion when highly stressed, and prone to rash actions.


Backstory:


Thultanthar

The City of the Shades (Thultanthar), a Netherese flying city from the desert of Anauroch, disappeared into the Plane of Shadows just days before the destruction of the weave caused by Karsus' Avatar in the Year of Sundered Webs. The destruction of the weave also caused the fall of the Netherese Empire, and when the Shadovar returned to Toril weeks later, they found nothing but ruin. The high mage Lord Shadow swore vengeance against the Phaerimm, a fearsome and murderous race of magical beings that lived beneath the Netheril Empire, and a historic enemy of the Shadovar. The Phaerimm had been developing spells to destroy the Netherese, whose heavy usage of magic was disrupting the lives of the Phaerimm.

When Karsus' Avatar destroyed the weave and sent the magically-dependent flying Netherese cities to the ground, the Phaerimm put their spells to use, and created what is now the Anauroch Desert. The Netheril Empire was no more, and in the Lord Shadow's eyes, the Phaerimm were at fault. Although mages in the city divined the truth, that it was Karsus who had caused the Empire's fall, this was not revealed to Lord Shadow. Thultanthar remained in the Plane of Shadow for thousands of years, until in 1372, it appeared over the Dire Wood...


The Order of the Shadowbinders

The Order of the Shadowbinders is an ancient and secret society of magical guardians who have charged themselves with preventing the return of the Shadovar from the Plane of Shadows. Although not aligned with the Phaerimm, or intent on aiding them, the Order opposes the return of the Shadovar to Toril because of the magical havoc and war it would cause. The Order has existed since a few hundred years after Thultanthar disappeared into the Plane of Shadow, and is therefore hundreds of years old.

The Shadowbinders built their headquarters in the middle of the Anauroch Desert, in the area where the city of Thultanthar used to be located. They constructed a massive fortress, invisible to the untrained eye, and impenetrable to all but the most powerful of forces.

Originally purely composed of Good-aligned Celestial beings of all shapes and sizes, the Order now consists of the descendants of these original Celestials. There are approximately four hundred members, of a wide variety of races and classes, but almost all have some Celestial blood, no matter how distant. A few were Planeswalkers, others were Rangers, Planar Rangers, Warlocks, Wizards, Psions and Fighters.

However, the Order is not what it used to be. No longer a pure conglomerate of powerful Celestials, the modern four hundred are a diluted version of the original organisation, lacking the sheer power and discipline of their ancient predecessors. It was this dilution of magical capability, combined with the efforts of an elf named Galaeron Nihmedu,  that led to the events of 1372, when the Shadowbinders failed in their task, and the City of the Shades, after over a thousand years of failed attempts, finally returned to Toril.

Eriadon Sanivol

Eriadon Sanivol was born in the year 1200, in the Dalelands (specifically the Shadowdale), to human parents Ianban and Neristhyra Sanivol. He has Celestial blood about five generations back on the maternal side. Ianban was a wizard, and an important member of the ruling body of the Shadowdale, whilst Eriadon's mother Neristhyra was a cleric.

Eriadon was born with the Planeswalker's spark, which was awakened in a particularly troubling time in Eriadon's life. It was during an invasion of the Shadowdale by the Drow in the year 1249, in which his parents both perished. In a burst of emotion, Eriadon was suddenly transported to an alternate plane; a peaceful world of rolling meadows under a pleasant mauve sky. It was here that Eriadon discovered his newfound abilities, and decided to commit himself to protecting the world from dark creatures. Within a few years of searching and travelling (by 1260), he found himself part of the Order of The Shadowbinders, vowing to prevent the return of the Shades from the Plane of Shadows. The Shades plotted to create a new Netherilian Empire in Faerûn, using the remains of civilisations they destroyed, but were stuck in the other plane because of the Order's efforts.

Eriadon progressed through the Order's ranks for 130 years, blessed with a Planeswalker's immortality, traversing the many planes, learning and developing his skills. By the year 1372, he had made many friends (who called him Erri), and risen to an influential position in the Order's ranks.

When the Shadovar returned in 1372, they appeared above the Dire Wood, intent on just three basic goals:
1. Destroy the Phaerimm, the ones responsible for their destruction and exile
2. Establish a new Netheril Empire on the ruins of the current civilisations
3. Destroy the Order of the Shadowbinders, who had kept them trapped and brooding for so long


The Return of Thultanthar

In 1372, after a series of events surrounded in mystery, the ancient City of the Shades appeared over the Dire Wood near the High Forest. Albeit surprised, the Shadovar, now led by Lord Shadow Telamont Tanthul, proceeded without hesitation to search the surrounding area for Netheril artefacts, and learn all they could about what had happened in Toril since they had left. They soon learnt of the Shadowbinders, and their efforts to keep them in the Plane of Shadows. Enraged, the Shadovar headed straight for the headquarters of the Shadowbinders in the Anauroch Desert. After easily destroying the castle and what they believed to be everyone in it, the City set course for a new destination...