Urgh...ok...<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="floatright">(http://URL)</div><strong><span class="bbc_u">Name</span></strong> Ralen Haskell<br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Race</span></strong> Half elf<br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Age</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Hair Color</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Eye Color</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Skin Color</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Height</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Weight</span></strong><br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Class</span></strong> Paladin<br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Special Items</span></strong> A scrap of an old flag<br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Personality</span></strong> Protective, brave and proud like any other Paladin as well as easily enraged and Fanatic in the pursuit of evil. Devout to the point of madness. Bad manners from occasionally break through his training, mostly if drunk. Has difficulty handling loss. Believes in Redemption to a certain point.<br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Back story</span></strong>  The story of every half elf begins with their parents. How did such a curious Thing as Ralen come to be? Well...for the most part Ralen never knew. When asked, his Mother would tell elaborate stories about a bold adventurer...Ralen never believed those. He was simply to different, to be the son of the hero his mother told him about.<br/>There was one memory of his dad though, or at least Ralen liked to think it was of him:<br/>A tall blonde man, dressed in green with a dagger in his belt. He knelt down to face the little boy Ralen once was and said...something...there were only fragments of this memory left. It was something about him leaving and...Ralen couldn't remember....he was only like four back then after all.<br/>After some time Ralen decided to pretent like it didn't matter to him. For the next years it was him and his mother. In his home tome there were very few people that would associate with an half elf and such Ralen bonded with other social outcasts. With friends like this, Ralen endet up doing little more than an annoyance to the guards<br/>In short, he became a good-for-nothing, while his mother worked hard as she could to keep them both fed. Young and stupid as he was, Ralen never really came to realize just how much his mother had to work, to earn their living.<br/>Eventually she became overworked and sick. Ralen had no idea how to come up with the money for a cure. He asked for a job, a loan...anything, but with the reputation Ralen got himself, the only job he could get was at the docks. <br/>As much as  Ralen tried, he couldn't gather the money fast enough...his mother died. What little he had was barely enough to get her buried. After the funeral Ralen met up with a Captain he often helped with unloading cargo and hired on his ship. The captain knew him well enough to trust him and there was nothing keeping him there anyway.<br/><br/>As a sailor the half elf met the first and second loves of his life: the sea and his ship: "The Prancing Seahorse". On a boat everyone had to take care for one another, thus, for the first time in his life, Ralen had a place were he was accepted, were he belonged.<br/>The "Prancing Seahorse" had a lot of dealings across the world and in time the captain became wealthy. This made for better salaries, even for Ralen who was barely more than a swabby at the time. The problem with wealth though...is that it attracts the wrong kinds of people.<br/>It was a pitch-black and the sea was as calm as a dead man that night. Ralen was asleep when voices across the ship screamed one terrible warning:<br/>"BLACK SAILS!"<br/>All hands went on deck. Pulling the ropes with every man available they managed to free the sails, but...the sea was calm and no breeze would come to aid them. People went to the oars in a desparate attempt to outrun the Pirate ship, but to no avail. In the end everyone took a weapon and tried his best to defend his shit.<br/>The Captain died first, but the crew didn't yield, they became angry. Fueled by anger, they put up a good fight, but those pirates did this their whole lives. On by one Ralen saw his friends die and thrown into the sea. Ralen himself only survived that long because he stuck close to Garth...a former soldier...they became close friends.<br/>However seeing his friends die, Ralen understood there was no way that he could fend those people off and thus he decided to finally drop his weapon. Garth didn't. He took the pirates head on.<br/>Years later, the memory of his friend's severed head, hitting the planks and rolling off the ship would still haunt Ralen in his dreams.<br/>The next days, he spent as a prisoner, thought he was the last that survived until he saw the first mate among the Pirates: Heron. Ralen yelled and spat at him, but Heron remained calm, put a piece of cloth in the half-elves pocket. Ralen knew that it was from the ships old flag. When he looked up again, the former first explained:<br/>"The Prancing Seahorse is no more, neither is its crew."<br/>That was all he said. There was not even a warning that the next day, the pirates would maroon him on an island and leave him to die. <br/><br/>Being alone, betrayed, guilty of leaving his friend to die and without food, water or any means to escape...Ralen did the one thing he could do on this lonely island: He prayed. For two days he prayed to every god that came to his mind, promised to pledge his life to whatever...if he'd just survive...until one responded.<br/>"Destroy the corrupted. Avenge the fallen", a voice resounding in his head told Ralen.<br/>A day later, due to luck beyond comprehension, a band of smugglers found the half dead sailor and since they were short of hands, the offered him to get him off there if he worked two years for the crew.<br/>Ralen accepted. During their travels, Ralen got to know them, they became friends. They even told Ralen what they smuggled: Weapons. The first habor they reached Ralen again heard the voice. Before they could dock, he took one of the weapons and killed the whole crew. The shore still was a good way ahead, everyone was busy. They were caught off guard.<br/><br/>Once he swam ashore...Ralen honored his oath. He identified the voice as Torm and joined the order.<br/>Training as a paladin was hard, but so was starving. Every day the initiates would pray and then start training, after a few hours, they'd pray again, then train, pray, train, pray and sleep.<br/>They tought him to fight, gave him the strength he would need to defend the weak. They tought him the ways of the gods and how to chanel their power.<br/>In a sense the hard training, bonded the initiates together. Once again, Ralen had a place were he belonged and the longer his training was, the quieter the voice in him grew. For Ralen the reason was that he didn't need it anymore, that he knew his path.<br/>He would be Torm's blade and bring justice to the corrupted.<br/></div></div>