Username: lenon01
Character Name: Lenon Karlek
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Species: Assassin
Sexuality: He's not sure
Faction: ((Empire or Mini-kingdom))
Element: Dark
Height: 5' 4''
Weight: 125 lbs.
Condition: Alive
Equipment:
Right Hand- NA
Left Hand- NA
Body- NA
Right Leg- NA
Left Leg- NA
Appearance:
Class Orientation: Peasant
Character Stats:
Strength: 10/100
Defense: 5/100
Agility: 15/100
Dexterity: 10/100
Endurance: 10/100
Magic: 0/100
Obtained Skills/Abilities:
((This are your physical skills that you gained through training or scrolls. If you have selected to be a species from the NPC Guide, any skill with a star ( * ) by the said skill can be placed here. You may also create a skill/ability and get it approve be in the Customs Subforum. If you get accepted then you should post a link to your custom's page next to the skill. For further questions ask a moderator.))
[Empty Slot: You get more slots as you increase stat pools.]
Obtained Spells:
((This are your magical skills that you gained through training or scrolls. These are universal spells but for some spells you will need to be taught by someone who already knows the spell ))
Mana Abilites:
Type: Dark
Capacity: Very Low
Level: 15, Level 1
Skills:
Inventory:
Shillings: 500
Properties Owned:
((This is where you list the building you have purchased))
Items Owned:
((This is where you list items that you bought or found. Also if you got something approved then you should put it here. Also you should post a link to your customs page.))
Missions, Quest & Tasks:
Current Quest/Mission/Task:
Tasks Completed:
Quests Completed:
Level 1 Missions Completed:
Level 2 Missions Completed:
Level 3 Missions Completed:
Level 4 Missions Completed:
Values:
Morality: 50/100
((This starts off at 50. It is like a good and evil meter, the higher the number the more towards "good" your character is and the lower the number the more "evil" he or she it. Players do not change this. Morality is affected by buying certain items and completing certain missions. Always check the morality on things before you buy them!))
Happiness: 50/100
((This starts off at 50 as well. This has to do with how happy your character is. The higher the number the more happy he or she is. If this number hits below 20 your character will enter a state of depression and won't be able to do missions so make sure you keep yourself happy!))
Spirituality: 50/100
((Again this starts off at 50. The more your character attends church and does prayers the higher this number will go. If you get this number past 80, you may find that your character has been "blessed" by Eden but if it drops below 0 you may find yourself receiving an different type of gift from down under.))
Personality:
- Reserved
- A man of few words
- Kindly
Theme Song: ((Put a youtube video link to a song or music video that your character can relate most to.))
Battle Song: ((Put the song that can be heard when your character goes into battle.))
Relationship Status: Single
Fayth:
Meditation Points:
Bio:
My name is Lenon Karlek. I was born in the city, down in the poor quarters. With my birth came another - my twin sister. As young children, we were much like any other children in the world. Our lives progressed day by day, and we thought nothing of the past nor what the next day would bring.
Several moons after my eighth year of life on this planet would bring disaster upon my family. My twin sister had fallen ill with a deathly sickness common among the poor, and being as such, we could not afford a doctor. I was alienated from my sister, my parents having placed her in her own room and forbidding me to enter it. I know now that they were only trying to protect me from whatever sickness she had contracted, but that does not make me like it any more.
The sickness lasted for months. My elder brother had visited our house several times, although that meant that he was being abused more and more by his superior at his job. I felt alone and scared in my room at night. It seemed so large without my twin, and the whispers from across the hall were often expressing the fear I felt inside myself. I often would lay awake and cry until my mother or elder brother would come in and try to comfort me.
On our ninth birthday, my sister was only getting worse. We had scraped up enough for a doctor to visit, one that worked for the church in the poor district. He came to visit, and my family and I waited anxiously outside of our doorway, praying. I had never understood what they did as a child, being young as I was. They seemed so intent upon something I could never understand, this 'god' of theirs. The doctor walked out of the room, and their eyes lit up at the sight of him, as if he was the prophet himself.
Of course, though, he only shook his head. He said that there was nothing he could do with the money we had given him, and that the cure was simply to expensive for us to afford. With a false mask of sympathy, he gathered up his stuff and left the house. Since that moment, I have ever a distrust of religions and their lies of salvation and hope. They only crushed my dreams and killed my sister.
Days later, my sister died. It was all we could afford to have her buried in a rickety old coffin that could barely stay up even without the weight of the dirt upon it. The box broke as my father was piling the dirt onto it, and it collapsed inward. My mother let out a wail and ran into the house, although the rest of my small family stayed.
That night, the last time I ever remember seeing my mother, she came into my room and assured me that everything would be alright, and that the tears would be a temporary thing. She told me she would always be there for me. The morning after the funeral, she went out to her job at the market.
She never came home. They said that they found her on the side of the street in an alley dumpster, all pale and decomposing. That's all that I know of her death until this day, all because of what I had done next.
Once the news reached my ears of her death, I fled my house. I thought, 'Maybe if I run fast enough, I can leave this all behind!' And so I ran, tripping over my own tears and shoes. I ran until I collapsed in the street, my legs aching from the run. When I had calmed enough to look around, I realized I didn't recognize where I was. The buildings were all mostly gone, replaced by the occasional small shack or wooden building. Behind me was the buildings that I knew of the city where we lived, and where my mother and sister had died. I was scared, and had no idea what to do or where I was, so I began to walk back.
As I entered the city, I found myself blocked on all sides by large men. They seemed worse off than even myself - their clothing had rips and cuts in it, and several had scars on their faces. I remember sitting up against the wall beside me in a fetal position, but the world blacked out as a bag was pulled over my head.
I awoke to the sound of a scream. Opening my eyes, I saw the last of the men leaving a room as he kicked one of the women near the doorway. The door slammed shut behind him, and I used the darkness to crawl into a corner. A small window with bars was letting in moonlight that had filled up most of the room, and showed me the collection of other people cluttered against the opposite wall. Women and children of different ages that I didn't know, staring blankly into a direction or with their eyes closed. I remember the silence of all but breathing as I drifted off to sleep, right as the sun was rising.
I was kicked awake hours later by another man in ragged clothing. He informed me that I would be doing hard labor for the rest of my short life for the gang, and that I would be killed if I attempted escape.
For the next four years, I spent my days in a factory, friendless and alone in a room filled with people like me, making small devices and weapons.
As I turned thirteen, the only miracle I have ever experienced occurred, although I did not know it at the time. A large company of soldiers had broken down the gates, and were fighting the bad men that I had been commanded by for four years. In the confusion, I broke through the ranks of the invaders and escaped into freedom. I thanked whatever might have been watching me that it was night - the daylight would have seared my eyes. My pale skin was sickly and hanging from almost bones. I passed out from exertion in front of a large yellow house. My last memories of that house were the beautiful flowers and the dog that was trotting towards me, barking. I thought for certain that I was going to be found out by another gang, or even eaten by the dog. I remembered that it used to happen to half-dead people in the street if the dog was starving and thin.
However, when I awoke, it was not in the white world that some people claimed the 'afterlife' to be, nor in abysmal darkness, but on a comfortable surface with heavy things on me. I was warm - warmer than I had been in years. I lay on the bed until a kindly looking woman opened the door with a tray of some kind of soup, which was when I started to flip out. I jumped out of the bed and ran into a corner again, staring at her with uncertainty and mistrust, holding some kind of iron candle holder in front of me. I thought I would die there, but I would not be taken in by another gang ever again.
Still, though, something was different about this woman. She seemed...bright, warm...welcoming? The look of sadness in her eyes at my actions was most probably what shook me out of my daze and back into reality. I faintly remembered my mother's eyes, just like these, on her final day alive. My hands shook so hard that I dropped the iron candle holder and I grabbed at my hair, expecting to feel the iron wires I had for four years...but it was soft! I looked at my hands, expecting something was wrong. The woman suddenly caught my eye - she moved! I looked at her feet - the soles of her shoes seemed soft, more that I had ever seen before. She placed the tray on the bed and knelt down on her knees in front of me. She seemed rather old, and her eyes held only hope for me. I was only used to the flaming anger in the men's eyes or the blank stare of the slaves in the warehouse. She held out a hand invitingly, in front of my face. I flinched back unexpectedly, used to slaps in the face for something I had never done or because one of the gang members felt especially cruel. After a tense moment, though, I felt my hand reaching toward hers. The dirt and grime on my hands were gone, although they felt like sandpaper against this woman's. Making eye contact together, it was then that I understood that not everything in life was meant to hurt me, to slice away at my body, and that the thing people called 'hope' really did exist....
