Name: Kurzan O'Cuillean
Race: Cimmerian
Age: 19
Rank: Theroshan
Clan: Dyma
Description: Kurzan is a young adult in his prime, though mature-looking for his age. He has a short beard covering his chin which is braided at both sides; it gives him a slightly wild and barbaric look. His hair is long and just as untidy as his beard, flowing down to his shoulders and meeting the hilt of the sword on his back. Kurzan chooses to carry two weapons by his belt, the ceremonial sword his father made him sheathed to his left, and whatever comes to hand at his right. An elaborate sheath has been crafted to hold the precious blade his father crafted. On his back is a great two handed sword, brutal and heavy looking which appears to have seen more use than the other blades.
Background: Kurzan was born into the new dawn by two parents from separate clans who had fallen in love. His mother was a member of the Siblings clan, a strong believer in Dyma, while his father was a proud member of Balance. Naturally, Kurzan was brought up to appreciate the world around him, his father worked as a blacksmith and was an accomplished soldier. He tried his best to influence his son at his young age into combat through heroic stories and tales of great battles, hoping it would rub off in his training when it came. There was however, dispute between his parents over Kurzans future. His mother wished for him to become a shaman or priest, to better attune himself to the gods, while his father wanted his son to become a proud soldier. During the evening while his father was in the woods however, his mother would take Kurzan and preach to him the ways of Dyma, and even at such a young age, and when he would become a man, that understanding had grown and rooted within him.
At the age of 4 he was taken from his sobbing mother’s arms and his father’s warming smile. It was clear from an early age that Kurzan would be no priest or spell weaver, as he had failed to show a hint of magical power. But he swiftly became familiar with the singing of steel and the grasp of a sword hilt. By day he would train by the sword out in the harsh relentless sun but by night he would be found in the library studying the lore of Damak, always before a skirmish he would pray to his god. His parents seperate ideals seemed to have merged together in him. Although the teachings stayed, his old family felt distant untill they were almost forgotten. His friends were his brethren now, his teachers, almost like parents.
