Notable Features:
Height: 5'11
Weight: 168 pounds approx, lean muscled.
Age: 18
Eyes: Sky blue
Hair: Dark hazel with blonde highlights.
Distinguishing marks: A birthmark on the lift side of his chest, above his heart, a dark red swirl that can be easily mistaken for a tattoo.
Weapon of Choice: The Watcher's Right Eye, a heavily enchanted Bastard Sword wrought from Alchemical Silver, and crackling with holy lightening. It's sister blade, a twin called The Watcher's Left Eye, is wielded by Renecs close personal ally and constant companion, Lady Aerin Wavesilver.
Class: Favoured Soul & Divine Champion
Has an odd tattoo like marking of faded black, of a gauntlet reaches up across the left side of his face, its five fingers just touching upon his brow, forming a holy symbol of Helm, his left eye in its center.
Renec has a bizarre affiliation with Metallic Dragons. He dreams often of them, and has a strange tie to a particular Gold Dragon called Anbrazax. Who dwells in parts unknown somewhere along the coast.
Introduction:
A storm of lightening and wind, thunder cracking the skies above him. Aranathon moved forward through the trees, rain, and silt. He had to get back home, his children needed him. They were always the first and foremost in his life, after all, they were the future of House Rokranon, a way to end the curse on his family. It was here, during this great storm when Aranathon first heard the cry of the child. “A child, in this storm, at night?” He thought to himself as he shifted between two large furs and into the small clearing where the sound had caught is attention.
A small child lay bare, rain and muck plastering his tiny features. The half-elf moved quickly, unfurling the traveling cloak from his back he quickly wrapped the child, pulling him from the mud and holding him closely for warmth. A pair of bright blue eyes peered upwards, fear in them, darting left and right at the raging storm. “It's alright, you are safe now.” Aranathon turned then to look about the clearing, several burn marks and a split tree. A fire caused by lightening possibly? The child was lucky to survive, and lucky the rain was present to put it out. The eyes of the half-evlen moved down to the boy with a smile, shaking his head. “Aren't you just lucky all around this night.”
A small time later Aranathon arrived back to his home in Athkatla, the small child in arm. It was this night that the child was so named “Renec of house Rokranon” a small child of only two winters at best. The strange boy from the woods had found his family. His home, amongst the adopted children.
Time went on, and Renec aged into a strong young man of fierce determination. His luck from that night had followed him through his life, he had evaded the plague that had claimed many of his youngest brothers. He was the youngest surviving one, in fact. It was shortly after this that Renec displayed his true purpose: A favoured soul. While out hunting with Aranathon for game, the young man came across a large cat in the woods, it was injured badly in a hunters trap. Feeling sorry for the proud beast, he produced his aid kit, but the cat would have none of this humans touch, it roared and swiped at its would-be savour. As Renec fell back, his hand outstretched, a bright flash of light emitted outward, and words poured from his mind as if he had known them all along. When he looked back again, the creatures wound was closed. It was as if it had never been. It was here that his innate divine magic was discovered.
Aranathon used his ties with the many churches within Athkatla, to send his son to be educated at a nearby church of Helm. He was groomed as a Helmite here, and began to take on their values of duty and honour above all else. Aranathon groomed the child at home as a warrior, teaching him how to wield the hand-and-a-half blade the church had bestowed on him in grace of being favoured by whom they assumed was Helm.
This is how Renec spent the next two years of his life, training and being groomed for a greater purpose. At the age of 18, Aranathon, the father he had always known, passed away in his great old age in Renec arms. The half-elfs last wish was for the young man to travel to the city of Baldurs Gate, to squire under his elder brother Jonas Rokranon, a man who was now a knight and noble of Baldurs Gate itself. It was here that Aranathon's hoped that his family would continue in their proud nature, and he wanted nothing more than to further this cause. “Be an ally to your brother, and learn from his nature, and carve yourself a new life, and a new story, my boy.” There was nothing left here in Athkatla for him now, no duty left to fulfill. With sword and shield in hand, his journey began to Baldurs Gate, to a new life, and to fulfill the wishes of his father.
