OK! This is a character I have spent about 10 years, almost a perfect decade (I believe 10 years ago, right after christmas. I was inspired by a toy I received. ) trying to develop and create. But until now, I couldn't get it down. I couldn't give him the look I wanted, I couldn't draw him with his bow, I couldn't draw his horse, I couldn't even develop him correctly, in a somewhat believable fashion. (If I had tried this 6 years ago, I would have just given him EVERY SKILL IMAGINABLE. And he'd have shot lazers from his ass. And been the ruler of the empire of the world. )

But this is Joren, my Assassin. (Part time game hunter, and monster hunter when assassinations aren't coming in. And if THOSE don't work, he'll default to playing messenger boy, working at a logging camp, or doing farmhand work.)

He's also part of a world I've been fiddling with for a long time, but never put forward the extra UMF, to post stuff on it, because I wanted to make sure my ideas had some merit before I start blatantly throwing them out there.

His verrrryy. early years:

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He was born into a poor, farming family, who owned a small plot of land for crops, and some animals to barter eggs, meat, milk, and wool. When he was around 9, the family experienced a severe lapse in money, had to sell off some of their farm animals, and couldn't sell the crop, due to weather and conditions decimating it. He had two younger sisters, 6, and 3. The amount of money they were able to get before the year started to close in wasn't nearly enough to last them the whole year if the crops weren't going to be a good harvest; as such, his father sent out a letter to his brother, who was a wilderness-hunter, and an ex mercenary, asking if he can take Joren, perhaps teach him as an apprentice of sorts, and keep him safe. After almost a year, a letter returned, stating that Joren's uncle (Seles) was willing to take him. Soon after Joren was sent off, with a 2 year old horse, born from their farm's workhorse, to the other side of the empire. Seles lived far north, while the farmstead Joren had grown up on was almost coastal. If his father had ever had the money, they could have become fishermen without much travel.

His departure was a sad event for the family, but he was excited to meet the man who's stories filled his head, made his eyes go wide, and his mouth agape in wonder in the past year. His father had told him about Seles' combat prowess, how he was part of a band of mercenaries that took over entire countrysides in the name of the Emperor. Stories of how his uncle had slain dragons, gorgons, centaurs, ents, satyrs, demonic beasts, battled armies of vampires, and bare handed with werewolves. The kinds of things that helped him overcome any fear, and any doubt in his mind that this would finally lead him to the life of adventure he longed for.

Upon arrival to the township that Seles belonged to, he located his uncle quickly, and began to question him about the stories, about what he does, and about what they'll be doing.

Mildly disappointed at the answer of how his father exaggerated, how he simply hunts, and that they'll be hunting and living up in the mountain forests, he did his work diligently, but with a lack of excitement.

That changed about a year after his stay there, when he turned 13 his uncle began to teach him the crafting he thought was necessary, which was how to craft bows and arrows quickly, and in the middle of nowhere. He also learned his skills in Herbalism from Seles; identifying plants that are harmful, helpful, edible, and simply there. (His skill in poison-making, in alchemy was learned later on.)

The teaching continued for about 25 years, and by the end of it, he had done everything that his uncle had, except for kill dragons, and become a mercenary. It was soon after this marking point, that his uncle left one day. Joren waited for his return, but eventually was forced to acknowledge that he wasn't coming back. Later on he discovered his uncle was dead, the person who found his body said that there were no wounds, or burns from magic. (Joren was essentially entering his 20s at this point, as the way his race of elves ages, is that they slow down dramatically around puberty, and hit an almost null stop when they begin to look they're in their 30s by human standards.)

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The rest of his story after that point will be written out, and either posted in a book form, with illustrations, or turned into a graphic novel depending on the time I have available to devote to it.

Basic stats for Joren: (Some of which isn't covered in site stuff, so I figured posting this anyway works)

Age: 84 (27)

Gender: Male

Race: Black-Forest Elf

Nationality: Angren

Kingdom/Empire of Birth: Maeirea

Grew up/Spent most time in: Faerfax

Current Residence: Lenil

Occupation: Assassin

Society Rank: Currently stays out of the social light. Monetarily, he's just below a minor noble when he's receiving work consistently. (Consistent work being the problem.)

Height: 6'0

Weight: 170 lbs

Eye color: Yellow

Hair color: Deep Red

Skin color: Black

Favored weapon: Hand-Carved Bow

Other weapon skills: He can wield his dual daggers (Bethos, and Salos) well, but prefers his bow.

Trade skills: Alchemy, Herbalism.

Survival skills: Swimming, tracking, hunting, stealth, first-aid (Basic tying of bandages.) cooking, horse riding, climbing.

Craftsman skills: Fletching, Bow-crafting, Rope-tying.

Monetary skills: Assassinations, game-hunting, monster hunting. (Dragons are a specialty)

What do they do in their off time for money? Logging, messenger-service, and farmhand work when needed.

Species: Dark Elf

Family: Hasn't heard from the immediate family since he was a child. Father, Mother, Two younger sisters. His Uncle (Now deceased) took care of him.

Children: None that he's met. (OH THOSE TAVERN WENCHES. ;D )

Orientation: Straight.

Relationship status: Single.

Smoking: Non applicable to his class ranking.

Drinking: He'll drink himself into a coma most any night he doesn't have a scheduled kill.

Distinguishing scars: Two small, but obvious scars on his face: One on his right cheek, and one on the bottom-left part of his jaw.

Voice tone: He has a deep, but soft voice.

Educational Background: Learned under a wardship agreement between his ex-mercenary turned wilderness hunter uncle, and his farmer father.

IQ: 117.

Basic stats for Malakath, his horse.

Age: Unknown

Gender: Male

Species: Setshi-Ken

Height: 7'2

Weight: 2400 lbs

Eye color: Blue

Hair color: Orange-brown

Pelt type: Standard Earth-set

Mate: None

Distinguishing scars: None. Any scars he's obtained have been covered over by a thin layer of fur.

To describe the Setshi-Ken species very quickly (I'll go into more detail soon, as this species will be a personal one of mine.) they're a type of horse that was legened to be created when a hippogryph and a wyvern mated. The factual origin of the Setshi-Ken is unknown. They are few and far between, mysteriously lurk in shadowed forests, or wander wastelands. Renowned for their incredible stamina, and strength, but also the speeds they can reach for their size, they were long sought out by nobles, and kings, who wanted intimidating, and powerful mounts to ride into combat, or strut through townships on.

The problem is Setshi-Ken are not easily broken, and are much more aggressive than their workhorse cousins. The aggression that some of them show (Coupled with how certain lines of Setshi-Ken have longer, more damaging horns on their nose, designed perfectly for goring into enemies.) has caused them to be nicknamed the "Painted demon horses" by commoners of most races. They can not speak, nor can they use magic, but they are said to be HIGHLY intelligent, and will often be more reacti