Character's Name: Dreneth Te’Oma

Race: Human Male

Age: 18

Height: 5’ 11”

Weight: 168lbs

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Brown

Element: Earth

Physical Description: Dreneth is a nondescript man. He has medium-length unkempt brown hair. He has a tanned skin tone from spending most of his time outdoors. He is not muscular, but neither is he particularly thin. He wears a set of worn brown trousers and a worn beige shirt. He also wears a thick cloak for warmth. Around his neck is a thin piece of string, most of which he keeps hidden beneath his clothes. Threaded onto the string is a single piece of bone, or possibly tooth. No-one can tell, and Dreneth is in no rush to inform anyone.

Personality: Dreneth is a loner, not by choice or nature, but because it was forced upon him. Before the end of the Second War, Dreneth was a cheerful, friendly person, who lived on his family farm. Now, his family is dead, and it seems that his soul died with them. He seldom talks, and when he does his words are cold and emotionless. He is cold, ruthless and malicious. He is not pleasant to be around, but he will do anything, absolutely anything, for money. He has a deep hatred for all members of the Hordes of Evil.

Class: Outcast

Level: 1

Equipment: Dagger, Clothes

Gold: None

Items: None

Skills: Beg, Pilfer.

Background: Dreneth was born on a peaceful farm in the far north of Avalon. They were untroubled by the majority of the Second War, as they were isolated, miles from civilisation. However, when the Hordes finally broke through and swept across the land, Dreneths family farm was one of those that was destroyed.

When the Hordes attacked the farm, the only warning that Dreneths family had was the howling war-cry of the evil warriors as they charged the farm. Dreneths father grabbed his scythe and stood in the doorway, prepared to hold off the Hordes so his family could escape. As Dreneth and the rest of his family fled, they heard a blood-curdling scream of pain and terror. Turning, he saw his father impaled through the stomach with a mighty spear, blood trickling down the shaft as the cruel warrior who wielded it hefted it up, lifting the writhing man off the ground.

Dreneth had no time for tears, though, as the horde swept through the farm, setting it ablaze, and chased after the fleeing children and their mother. An arrow speared his mother through her right leg, then another through her left. They could hear the coarse laughter of the Hordes as the screaming woman fell to the ground, blood staining her clothes as she lay, agonised and immobile. More arrows shot into her, the wet thuds that they made as they hit forever lying in Dreneths mind. His mother screamed on, still alive, though pierced through with arrows.

Dreneth and his siblings fled on, pursued by the Hordes. He was the fastest of the children, at ten years old, but stayed with his siblings to keep them moving. A howling warrior ran past, blurred, such was the speed with which he moved, and snatched up the youngest child. He ran backwards just in front of the terrified children, stuffing the shrieking toddler into his fang-filled maw, consuming the young child slowly.

Dreneth was terrified, so scared he didn’t even feel the arrow go straight through him, entering his back and emerging out of the front of his chest. He fell, comatose, to the ground, unaware of his siblings being mercilessly butchered around him.

When he awoke, five days later, the horde was gone, and he was surrounded by the bodies of his family, thousands of flies buzzing around the area, the corpses infested with maggots. He dragged himself upright and struggled forwards, his legs weak and nerveless, his breathing shallow. Somehow he survived, making it to a town, where he received medical attention. He has had no home, no family, for eight years. He travels the world, in search of more money. For what purpose, he tells no-one.



Hope it's ok.

Very good. I only saw a few misspellings. "Agonised", "civilisation", and "Warcry" It should be War-cry, or War cry. Fix these miss-spellings, and you'll be through. I won't be able to accept you until tomorrow, unless another admin does. I'm not sure where the Outcast class starts in, so i'll need to ask Derhlith. ^_^ I'll make sure you're accepted by tomorrow if you fix those miss-spellings.

I'm going to ignore those errors. Mainly because it's quite possible you're from Europe and thus spell most things with an "s" rather than a "z" like in American English. That would explain the "civilisation" vs. "civilization", and the "agonised" vs "agonized". Warcry... that's sort of arbitrary. War-cry, War Cry, or Warcry. Whatever.

Without further Adieu: Welcome to Dark Isles! :D *confetti flies and poppers explode*

Oh, and by the way, you start out in Avalon. Happy Posting! ^_^