Varius

Varius of House Calderian 

The wars that swept through the lands were nothing in comparison to the wrath against the elvin nations of Oonalia. It is said in certain areas of the world the plants still bleed red from the tainted soil. While Varius may have not been aware of what was going on in his younger years, it would affect his youth in ways  few would imagine.

During the wars of the great nations, the House of Calderian was one of many prime targe ts. They w ere not only of the Noble Houses that lorded their power over the other races, but by blood were direct descendents to the Elvin Throne. Many assassins were dispatched in hopes of taking out the entire bloodline, but luckily the turmoil that had caused the wars, also saved Varius’s li fe.

It was decided long before he was born that Seleria’s pregnancy remain secret. For her safety she was kept out of the public eye, and when hostilities finally came to blows, no one was even aware that she had given birth. She had been shuttled away in an old family estate deep in the woods, maintained by her mother in law, Batrithus. It was an old Elvin dwelling, surrounded by thick woods and even thicker magic. Magic that had caused the massive estate to become forgotten. By the time the wars had ended, a missing Noble woman was the least of anyone’s worries. His father and brother had fallen in the wars, but the two women, Batrithus and Seleria raised the young elf child happy to be forgotten. Some already assumed she had been killed, but none ever thought she would have bore another son.

As the wars ravaged the lands and sent most all they knew into the afterlife, they remained hidden away. When he was old enough to even be aware he was in seclusion, the wars had ended and the Elvin Empire had fallen...along with it their memory.

<p style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Caution was always his grandmother’s strong suit. Together they remained a mere shadow in the minds of those who has survived. He studied amongst the ancient books of his Grandmother's Library. He practiced amongst the visitors that were allowed past the magic barriers.

<p style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Eventually, he was forged into the last remnant of not only their bloodline, but the martial arts of their people. Years were spent weaving sword magic into one, but it was somewhere in his fiftieth year, that he finally wondered why they never went traveled past the ridgeline. They had gone out into the forest to scout and hunt, but never any further. His grandmother and Mother would often tell him there was nothing of interest past the walls. But year after year, they would get visitors who were not like them. Creatures who were similar but lacked the pointy ears and the slender build of his guardians.

<p style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">As the years drew on and the fear of their assassinations grew less and less, his endless questions finally wore down the wills of his Guardians. They were hesitant, but time had passed and there were few still alive who even cared about their own history. So they armed him with the things he would need and let him go beyond the mountains.

<p style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Time had worn so thin, and a new world needed to be explored.

<p style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal;mso-outline-level:3"><span style="font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Appearance 

<p style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">For all that a family portrait my elude to aspirations greater than are sanely expected, Varius is a simple elf.

<p style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Despite his life in seclusion he is far from incapable of taking care of himself. He has a thin frame and a natural elegance to the way he move, but his attire rarely ventures far from natural traveling gear. Truth be told the only things on his person of any standing is a small signet ring baring his Family Crest, a sword adorned with similar golden filigree, and his spell book. His clothes bare the marks of long travel and he is not known for sharing in lively conversation.

<p style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">He has naturally white hair with grey rimmed eyes though his elvin ancestry makes the Iris’s almost impossible to see. While he does trim his hair, his usual appearance begs to differ, as it is tied in a collection of loose ponytails and braids from day to day.

<p style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">However, beyond all of this, he is rather normal. He stands at a an average height of six feet tall and at most has the pleasure of at least being able to ride through the country on his horse.