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Approved FL bio for Malic Deriz - CC'd by the WT

Winter Mist

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Character Name

Malic Deriz


Email Address






Place of birth and raising



Physical Description

Malic, at the age of 18 would be considered by most people as a bit of a pretty boy. He is Tall (5"10'), of medium build, and has good posture. Giving him a weight of around 12-13 stone. His skin is fair and clean, showing little sign of outside labouring work. With eyes narrow, and what many mistake as black, actually are a dark shade of brown when met up close. Malic has a fixed grin on his face most of the time. Not out of arrogance though, he is just certainly a cheery chap! When he smiles and laughs, his mouth bursts wide into a show of perfect, white teeth. Hair jet black and shiny slick, he mostly has it brushed back and tied into a short tail.


Character History

On his usual high backed chair situated at the left-corner table for 2 at the back wall, slap bang in front of the raised platform for his performance, Malic was reflecting on long and recent past events in his life. Wearing his best baggy leather breaches and one of his perfectly white frilly shirts, he sat slouched with his head supported up by the open palm of his hand under his chin with elbow on tabletop. He indeed showed a sad look, it wasn't very often Malic looked troubled; he was usually very good at covering up any negative emotion. He snapped back to reality overlooking the common room where he spent most of his days and nights performing and living, in fact this very building is where he had spent most of his life, "The Clock Tower Inn", being brought up by his mother alone in the foregate district of Cairhien. He could see the whole of the room from where he sat.


The bar was occupied by his mother most days, and most of the evening too. His mother was a diamond that shone from the light the roaring open fire gave. The fire pored out heat from the hearth, which was situated along the wall from where Malic sat, directly opposite the bar. Malic's mother, Llarella Deriz was a true beauty, with large brown eyes, smooth skin and long black tied back hair in a plain blue and white wool dress, but not so plain to mistake anyone else as landlady. She excelled an air of dignity and passion in the work she did, and so she should, keeping an inn and bringing up a child on her own. Seeing his mother at work made Malic smile some and sit up a little straighter, she was also happy go lucky and a joy to work with so say all the loyal barmaids and few liveries that worked with the Deriz's. It was late, early morning to be more precise, and Llarella went about behind the bar clearing up the last few things after a long nights work, all her guests were occupying their rooms and the common rooms many round tables were empty of outside folk.


Malic for years had had a keen interest in becoming a travelling gleeman and told his mother, just a day before, that he is ready to see more of the world and that he intends on departing within 2 days. His mother obviously worried for her son showed concern and went on about her mythical creatures and darkfriends she often brought up. It was Malic's natural father who put these silly ideas in her head, being a soldier of Shienar he apparently knew all about these so-called slaves to the shadow, his name was Torrett Mentheel. Llorella had been with Torrett for 3 years, and at that time lived together in Shienar. There was talk of marriage between them until he unfortunetely died in battle defending Fal Dara from these slaves, these shadow spawn creatures. Llorella soon after, abandoned Fal Dara taking with her her unborn son and a horse and cart full of belongings, and began a new life here in Cairhien. Years later when Malic was just very young, Llorella bought the inn they keep at present. "I could not live in or around so close to the blight any longer son, at such times as this. It is no life for anyone to constantly live in fear of life," was the reason she gave to Malic, not like he cared about the move anyway. "Your father will always be there in my heart son, always. Please understand when I say I have found someone else," was what she said to Malic almost a year ago, and in that instant she brought him before a regular customer by the name of Cyric Offellow, who was a friend to him already. Malic was quite pleased with this coming of events as he liked Cyric and often saw him and his mother getting along well.


Soon after meeting Cyric, even before his mother was with him, Malic dedicated much of his little spare time taking lessons from Cyric, who is a bard of a Cairhien noble house. Besides being taught the way of the bard: juggling, tumbling, telling stories and playing a few instruments, Malic had taken some lessons in how to defend himself with a quarterstaff and the throwing daggers Cyric gave him as a birthday gift. Malic saw it a shame to have to bloodstain such lovely looking trinkets, but apparently "They are not just lucky charms to go slipping over onto because of idol handling" so were the wise words of Cyric. For years now the bard has been courting Llarella, and swore to leave his position as bard to live with her in The Clock Tower Inn the day Malic decided to leave on his travels of the world, his occupation and his dream.


"She did not come mother, I guess she either took my news worse than I suspected or she just doesn't care " Malic murmured in a level tone. He was talking about his favourite girl, one of a few in fact, but she was the one he saw most of and thought most of.

"Worry not son, the one true is out there for us all, and is waiting for you even now. You are destined to find her."

All this malarkey about soul mates made Malic want to be sick, the thought of spending his entire life with one woman made him sick. "Thank you mother, I feel a whole lot better" the sarcasm in his voice was blatant but she took no notice. He was fed up of sitting there and was weary so he stood up tall pushing back his chair and picking up his bright yellow hooded cloak, juggling balls and flute case. He made his way upstairs after kissing his mother goodnight. It did shake him a little how well she was taking all of this, better than he was it seemed. Now he was supposed to sleep. He was excited and but also petrified; he had never left the city before but knew he had to, which his mother also knew. Did she know something he didn�t? Eventually Malic slipped into a deep sleep, having odd dreams of marriage in a menagerie!




The world is in peril as the ever-watchful eye of sight blinder moves closer day by day. Everyone seems to be going a bit crazy, so he has every reason to be a little scared. He will miss his mother very much, Cyric (who he accepted as the nearest thing to a father) and his friends too. He supposes the only thing he won't miss will be the great bloody game of houses! Good luck Malic.

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Thaaaaaankyou! :D


Yeah a bit bizarre huh? You know how dreams are, your most wanted dreams can often be corrupted and mixed up with your worst. In Malic's case, marriage being his worst. I don't think even a fade could put that much fear into him compared!

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