SG Bio for Luran Hirad- CCed by FL

[ashara]

DM Handle: Zylazlo-

 

E-mail: Skolnick_m@hotmail.com

 

Name: Luran Hirad

 

Age: 17

 

Place of Birth: Illian City

 

Height: 5’10

 

Weight: 140

 

Division: Shayol Gul

 

Physical Description:

Luran is of a very slim build and of a fair height which makes him appear somewhat like a scarecrow. His hair is about as black as a raven’s feather in the normal shoulder length. He has a scraggly beard with no mustache, which he keeps in hopes of it growing into proper illianer fashion. His eyes are a dark brown which were practically black. He had an innocence to his face that didn’t match his age, it was as if body had matured but his face had stayed as that of a boy.

 

History:

Luran comes from a successful and wealthy family. This wealth is provided from his father’s status as one of the retired Companions. This made his childhood one of prestige and respect from all of his peers. It never went to his head though, but what did go to his head in any case? No one ever knew, he was quiet, not shy, just quiet. He wasn’t fussy about anything, or spoiled, in fact he was the star child of his family. Obedient, smart, independent, but even if he was the ideal child his parents always felt him

as detached, distant and sometimes they were even frightened of how cold he could become, it was as if he wasn’t really a person just a shell, how could you provide love to a shell? Nonetheless they tried. His father tried to bond with him by teaching him how to fight with the diverse weapons. Luran showed promise in daggers and light swords since his father started training him. But no matter how many years his father practiced with him there was no bond, a great development of Luran’s skill, but no real connection to his father. His coldness and silence often got him catalogued as an oddball and sometimes even considered “touched by the Creator”, his parents would deny it all but even they were unsure sometimes.

 

In this manner 17 years of his life passed. Other sons and daughters were born of his parents, and they were all loving and loved, none as great as Luran in sparring with their father or helping out with the chores around the manor. Luran was never taken aback with anything. But on the eve of the Festival of Lights was out picking up a few parcels for his mother, when he crossed paths with a man hidden inside a black cloak. There was nothing extraordinary about him, but his presence filled the city, Luran was amazed that no one else could feel it. Without even realizing it, the man was face to face with Luran. The young man couldn’t see the mysterious man’s face, but his eyes filled with a light that made them crystal clear. It only lasted for a moment, but in that moment Luran was invaded. He felt as if the cloaked man had entered his mind, accessed everything that was in essence, Luran, and exited leaving a stain that was darker than darkness. And with that the man walked on, disappearing into thin air. After he came back to himself, he gave himself a shake and chalked it all up to his imagination getting the best of him.

 

The following day during the Festival of Lights his family was enjoying a bard’s entertainment after the feast. He always found his family a very noisy bunch but for some reason this year they seemed to be magically magnified inside his skull. He decided to retire to avoid being asked to play the harp and just avoid how loud the environment was. Just as he was about to go something stopped him. He didn’t want to go, what he wanted was for these bloody dying cats to die already. It was his thought but it wasn’t. The quiet was in effect a desire of his, but mutated by something that wasn’t there before. He’d never wanted to hurt them, but why shouldn’t he want to hurt them? They thought he was odd? He’d give them odd. And so he proceeded to collect a short sword and a few knives…

 

Reflecting back on it he had no idea how he “silenced” them all. He first thought it had been the liquor, but he’d seen their eyes, he’d seen the sobriety, the betrayed and hurt sobriety. Even his innocent visage had turned into a disdainful scowl during the act. He decided it had been help from this entity that was in his mind. It kept suggesting what to do all during the fray, and thanks to this he was barely scathed. After he’d finished, he felt pleased, the voice praised him in a way that filled his soul. He couldn’t explain why he even tried to resist the voice, it made him feel good and at the cost of creatures that were just wasting their lives.

 

Following the massacre the voice suggested he leave the manor and hide out for a while. For a second, Luran questioned himself. Listening to a voice with no body? Maybe he was touched by the Creator? And to this the voice said: “You’ve been touched, not by the Creator but by the Dark Lord, Shai’tan. You are now more than you were, you are now alive.” He also wondered, why him? But the voice held its silence this time. Luran would have to discover it eventually.

 

After this he just let himself be guided by the voice to survive. His days just seemed to become one murder after another. They all leaded to a profit of some sort, the voice always knew where a good “hand” was needed. It was his bread and butter and he enjoyed it immensely especially when his voice praised him.

[Winter Mist]

Lovely bio, Zy! CC'ed by Freelanders :D

[Taei]

*bumped back in order*