[piosenniel]

DEDICATED CHARACTER

3.) Aylwen Dreamsong – Southron grunt soldier of the Dol Guldur Special Forces (servant of the Captain)

Name: Ehan Fazian

Age: Early twenties

Race: Haradrim

Gender: Male

Weapons: Ehan likes to think that he can do anything with his light, thin rapier. The blade is inscribed with prayers and blessings in his native tongue, while the hilt and pommel are unadorned and carved of plain, dark, but well polished wood. Ehan also carries two daggers given to him by his brother, but rarely, if ever, does he use them. He’s useless with the bow, and could kill himself just trying to get an arrow to fly much less trying to get it to hit any sort of target. Ehan fights like everything is a game, and enjoys every minute spent with his sword in hand.

Appearance: Standing just below six feet, Ehan is built tall and lean like most men of his clan. His brown skin and athletic build are both testament to her heritage and upbringing. Ehan’s face has a noble bone structure, with the stubborn chin and high cheekbones that many of his proud tribe possesses. Only a slight scar beneath his right eye, scraping all the way to his temple and hairline, mars Ehan’s face. His thick, wispy crop of soft, black hair is cut to the bottom of his neck and often falls in his face, framing his boyish face. Ehan’s black eyes are playful and bright, and his lips are often seen upturned in a smile or infected with laughter.

Personality: Ehan takes few things seriously, for at he is still the young, wild boy in spirit that he used to be in body. He treats everything as a game and a new experience, even if it is a task he accomplishes everyday. Ehan likes to make light of any situation, looking on the bright side or at least making a joke about any subject he deems to serious. Ehan never wonders if his childlike persona bothers others, for even if it does he will not change the person he loves to be. He is not so much carefree or happy, as much as he is just simple and blunt. Ehan sees everything in black and white, no greys or in-betweens, for Ehan sees everything with the clarity and simplicity of a child. His inability to take many things seriously might be his downfall, but it hasn’t cost him yet, and has just given him more fuel to do anything he does. When Ehan fights and uses his rapier, he battles in a gallant, brave manner as he thinks a warrior of old would, or perhaps fiercely and passionately as he thinks a squalid corsair would. Ehan’s life is a mockery and imitation of the excitement and adventure he wishes his life really had. Dying does not frighten Ehan, and the only fear that springs from death is the fear that he might not have lived and done all he could.

History: When Ehan was born, his grandfather Faziar was the leader of the clan. He headed a group of mentally and physically strong-willed men and women. Faziar, the namesake of the clan, passed away in battle, along with Ehan’s mother and several others when Ehan was not yet ten years old. At this point, Ehan’s father took over, leading the clan and his four children. Ehan was youngest of three boys and one girl.

Ehan spent a good deal of time with his older sister, who had seniority over him by three years. His sister spun tales and weaved stories of the highest caliber, and these themes and morals were always in his heart. Ehan’s older brothers taught him all there was to know about swordplay, but were at a loss when it came to teaching him how to send an arrow flying. This brought much comedy to the youngest generation of the Fazian clan, but it also brought a few minor injuries until it got to the point where Ehan was not allowed near a bow and quiver.

Ehan’s father passed away in battle when Ehan was fifteen, as did his eldest brother and beloved sister. After losing his best friend, Ehan kept her memory alive by living as the heroes in her stories, or living with the values he thought they would possess. Ehan’s remaining older brother took over, leading the clan with brash abandon that came with his arrogance and cockiness. Ehan’s brother liked to spread his people as thin as he could, dabbling the strong Fazian clan in any skirmishes or situations he could. So, Ehan was sent as representative and leader of a small group of his clan to work with the forces entering Mirkwood, working under Koran.

He sees it as another adventure.

~*~

Aylwen's post

"Come, we must join the rest of the force - I suppose you know the route already?" Ehan relaxed visibly as the man called Koran began to speak in a more friendly manner. The younger easterling let did not hide his amiable expression anymore, though he had already begun to wonder how well his personality would match Koran's. Ehan feared the worst, perhaps a head-on collision and clash between Koran's persona and Ehan's light-hearted simplicity. Still, Ehan pulled himself from the short look into the future and back into the present where he knew his head always belonged, and decided to cross all bridges when he got to them.

"Of course I do, sir!" Ehan cried gallantly, drawing his rapier dramatically and pointing it in the direction of the pathway that led down to where many easterlings had set up camp. Where the orcs were, Ehan did not know, but the thought intrigued him anyway. Seeing such ugly monstrosities brought rise to the blood-thirsty warrior in Ehan, despite the disappointing fact that these 'ugly monstrosities' would be on his side in this whole expedition. What a shame...to think how much fun I could have slaying those things. But there are other enemies. Snapping out of his reverie and realizing that he still stood motionless with his rapier held in the air, Ehan chuckled, embarrassed, and continued, "Yes, right. Onward!" and sheathed his sword.

Ehan led Koran down the path that went downward from the slight hilltop they had formerly been standing on, even though Ehan realized that Koran must have known the route as well. Trying not to kick up dirt on the excursion to the campsites. Ehan looked back once to see Koran looking off into the distance, and the young man wondered if Koran was in another time and place. When the two reached the bottom of the rocky, dusty hill, Ehan turned to face Koran once again. This time, the man hit Ehan with a question before Ehan could say aught else.

"How many has your clan sent with you?" Koran asked, looking at Ehan momentarily before stealing a glance at the sturdy men (and some women) behind Ehan, all the warriors from different tribes and clans.

"Well...I would imagine close to five and ten men...or, well...maybe almost twenty men and women. You know, the Fazian clan has rather strong-minded and strong-bodied ladies, as well. My sister-" Ehan stammered at first, but what should have just been a simple answer turned into a lengthy explanation. When Ehan noticed that Koran didn't seem to have much time for stories, Ehan quieted. "Yes. Well, I would say fifteen strong men and women come from the Fazian clan."

"Right. Good," Koran mused, a light smile playing on his lips.

This is going to turn out to be very interesting...Ehan thought. Yes, I can tell already.