Thearon

Thearon is a silent, often intimidating man. It's no mistake that Solaren is the gallant -- he's trying to make up for Thearon's lack of social graces. While not the nasty, self-centered creature that most people fear him to be -- after all, Thearon holds himself to nearly as strict of ideals as his bond Solaren does -- Thearon does have a habit of speaking his mind at the worst possible moment, and of eating his foot. For precisely this reason, Thearon speaks little, gaining him a reputation of unapproachability and secretiveness.

But in a way, he prefers that. He's much more at home on the battlefield than in the courtroom, and is as much at home in the rowdy company of mercenaries as Solaren is at home in the banquet halls of gentle-folk. In fact, in the company of mercenaries is the only time Thearon's been known to speak, now that he's bonded to Solaren.

For, while he does hold himself to nearly unattainable ideals - and always has - Thearon's past is shrouded in the veil of anonymity gained by being a mercenary child from the time he could lift a sword. His sense of humor is dark, his outlook darker, and his sword ever ready for battle.

Incredibly tall for his people, easily reaching eight feet seven inches in height, Thearon sports a sturdy tail adding another four and a half feet to his length. His body is black, not the depthless black of a lightless cave, but the dusky, blue-black of the average dark night. This black is slashed through by a hazy white - more of a silver-gray than a white to be truthful - streak running from his neck, along his underbelly, and all the way to the tip of his tail. His hands and feet appear as if he dipped his paws in the hazy white as well, and his face is broken up by a raccoon-style mask about his eyes in the same white, which extends part-way down his muzzle and tapers off before reaching his nostrils. He has small, ebony horns that sweep back from his head, but is otherwise unadorned.

Thearon is never without his special armor, which covers most of his body in a light, but sturdy, layer of metal colored the same dusky black as his hide. The armor on his tail turns it into an effective weapon, adding a curved, keen edged blade he can whip at foes. His massive zweihander is kept in a special half-sheath, half-holster across his back, the handle rising over his left shoulder, the glaring emerald eyes of the snarling cat-head that takes the place of his pommel stare out at whoever approaches him, the same dangerous green as his own eyes.

As a child, Thearon joined his first mercenary company, lying about his age in order to get in. No one knows whether he ran away from home, was an orphan, or whether he even had a home to begin with. He'll never speak of his early years, even deep in his cups -- it's almost as if he never had any, and some speculate on that topic even to this day.

From there, he began moving up in the world, gaining his massive zweihander at the hands of a young duke after protecting the man with his life. His first suit of custom armor he bought with his share of the pay. The mercenary company he had been with had been so decimated by the job, though, that it split, it's members scattering to the four winds in search of work. Thearon took employ in the renowned Warbeasts, working his way through the ranks til he was leading a squad of men.

From there, the stories diverge on what happened. Some say that he grew bored of the company and left to work on his own, others say that his commanders discharged him for some bit of insubordination they couldn't ignore, and still others say that the break is just a pretense, and that Thearon still works for the Warbeasts, but in a less official position - a position akin to sneak and tell-tale. Whatever the case, Thearon isn't saying, and neither is Solaren.