Story Used in: Isidor's Quest Name: Abrial Age: 17 Sex: male Species: Faun Description: Dark red brown skin, bluish black furred goat legs and tail, bright green eyes, jet-black hair with bluish highlights in it, and short ebony black horns that curve backwards over his head. He stands about five foot three when stretched out to his complete height. He’s normally laden down with all his Uncle’s belongings when they travel, so normally he’s hunched over. He tends to walk with a long wood staff to keep himself from falling from the weight of the supplies. He always carries a small wood harp on him, which he will sneak off to play when he has the chance to.
Personality: He’s a rather private person..but not in the least bit shy. When its needed he can be persistent and in your face. If provoked, he will fight back with everything he has. Family: One elderly uncle, who has taken him in as his assistant and has taught Abrial the mastery of weaving tales with music. Likes: Losing himself in nature and in music. Traveling the continent, learning new languages. Dislikes: battles, manipulative people, the wary/judging stares of humans, hard labor. Character Strength: Character Flaw: Diction/Accent: Soft spoken, Occupation: Bard wanderer/ Assistant Education: Having been born to the race of fauns, Abrial was taught at an early age how to identify the flora and fauna of the wilderness. When he was taken in by the smithy, he was taught how to do menial work, cutting wood, getting water, and sorting through scrap metal. He has had no book learning though he has an uncanny ability to remember anything he's ever heard. This ability is what helps him with learning music and the lore that his Uncle has dealt in for decades.
History: Abrial was born to rather lowly, but noble fawns and grew up having a very carefree and jovial life with his parents. When they died, due to strange circumstances he wandered alone until he came upon the village of Xaan in the Gorault province. He was considered an oddity by the humans there, but they treated him kindly. And after seeing how capable and strong he was, the village smithy took him in his home to train him as an apprentice. Of course..Abrial only did the work half heartedly, because it wasn't something he really wanted to do. He realized that he'd have to pay back the villagers and the smithy for all their kindness though and did so without a complaint.
He was rather relieved and surprised when his Uncle Duridane found him in the village and insisted on taking him on the road. Abrial said his goodbyes and that's where his adventures with his Uncle begin. He's even happier when he discovers his latent talent for music and how enjoyable it is to weave tales.
He doesn't really enjoy being used as a pack mule for his Uncle's odds and ends, but he doesn't usually complain as it would do no good. He normally keeps negative thoughts to himself.
Art is by Dyre on Ernya.
She's super talented!
Abrial trailed after his ever boisterous Uncle Duridane, trying not to show any sign of discomfort. Despite him being stronger than the average human, the pack that he was forced to carry was starting to dig into his shoulders and wear him down. He often wished that his Uncle would buy a burro or a horse to share the burden he was supposed to haul during their traveling. If only Grand Fawn Bard had any common sense! It seemed all his Uncle the bard had time for was finding new adventurers to trail after and write r0licking songs about their adventures and harrowing escapes from monsters. He was a daydreamer and a whimsical creature; much to Abrial's dismay.
It was often Abrial's job to barter for rooms, food and finding proper clothing for the Grand Fawn Bard. He hated having to deal with greedy humans and the discriminating elves who looked down on them with scowls. It was enough to make Abrial want to rip his hair out by the roots. Still..if he didn't do it they'd end up sleeping with the animals and out in the streets where they could get mugged.
Finally Duridane called for a halt and sat down on a large tree trunk and started rooting through his pockets for a bite to nibble on. Abrial dumped the over sized pack near a large stone and took a seat on top. He unstrapped his lyre and sat down and strummed it, trying to forget the pain of traveling. Pretty soon he was picking out a lively melody and he was half way relaxed from the long trek down the mountains. He sighed and breathed in the slightly nippy air and let it out heavily. Summer was winding down and Fall was nigh, and within a few weeks they might actually see some snow. Unless they were able to go further South before the snows started falling in the land of Nothem. Which meant, that they couldn't take much respite from the traveling.
All OCs and art of OCs is the property of A.K. Lange, Do not use in any form AT ALL! All art was bought and paid for by the owner. NO STEALING!