Tarin

Name: Tarin
Title(s): None as of yet
Location: Sundren
Birthplace: Dragon Coast
Age: 21
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Deity: Tymora
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Appearance:
Tarin is short for a human around five feet, four inches in height. He is fairly thin as well at one-hundred and forty-five pounds soaking wet. His hair is light brown in color. He keeps clean shaven save for a bit of hair above and below his lips. His green eyes are constantly darting around taking in everything. He always has a pair of daggers strapped to his belt. Of course, this is all assuming you even notice that he is there.

History/Background:
Tarin was born on the coastline of the Dragonmere along the Dragon Coast in a small farmstead that was somewhere between Pros and Ilipur. He was a bit of a wildchild growing up always managing to get into trouble and going places he shouldn't. His parents were good natured hard working folks though and managed to teach him right from wrong as well as good manners. His father was always disappointed that he wasn't all that great at helping around the farm. Sure, he could milk cows and feed the pigs but he just wasn't all that great at anything that required a bit more muscle. In fact, he was much better at hiding from his father than anything else.

His mother was an odd one. Very smart and fluent in elven as well as common and some other language she never named but involved mostly body movements. She had many old tomes, scrolls and books around their home and taught Tarin how to read them all. He could easily get away from his father but his mother... He could never hide from her. Many times Tarin would swear that his mother had simply appeared from the shadows. He was hiding once near the barn and heard his father calling for his mother who was just around the corner in Tarin's line of sight. Just as his father turned the corner his mother disappeared right in front of Tarin's eyes, at least that's what he thougt. She never used any magic that he saw so he figured he must've been seeing things.

Somewhere around Tarin's 19th birthday he decided to head out on his own. Neither parent offered an alternative. He figured his father was happy to be rid of him and his mother wanted him to see the world on his own. He knew of Ilipur and Pros having been to each on many different market trips over the years. He always heard of a town called Elversult that wasn't that far away either and made his way in that direction. As he wandered away from his home of 19 years he recalled a quote he once heard:

I am dying. Every day, with every breath I draw, I am closer to the end of my life. For we are born with a finite number of breaths, and each one I take edges the sunlight that is my life toward the inevitable dusk.