Mathias "Weyline" Sanoke

[Subject to change'n'such.]

Name: Mathias "Weyline" Sanoke
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Magic type: Serkan
Weapon of Choice: Mathias favours the composite shortbow, known for it's devastatingly powerful punch and lightweight frame. Unlike many archers, he tends to operate from horseback, having trained in the traditional manner of the Elonnahal tribes of the Northern Flatlands. He has a small war ax and a shield as well, but the bow is a far more familiar weapon.
Role: Expert scout and ranger. Presently unaware of the rising conflict between the Alliance and the Sudao (why will be explained in the following).
Description: Standing just shy 5'10, Mathias lacks in the mass bulk of many other warriors. He's sleek and lithe, but laced with muscles taut as bowstring. In many ways he's adopted the culture of his once-captors: He wears his hair long and loose, in the Elonnahal fashion, rather then the bound braid of his homelands. Even in dress he favours bare-chested in warmer weather and wrapped in furs during the bitterest parts of winter. Mathias has a good mix of his father and mother's features: Her colour of eyes, blue, but the depths of his father's, making them a deeper, oceanic shade. He has his father's strong brow, and well-shaped cheekbones, but his mother's dark, luscious hair. His skin has a weathered look, and is tinted bronze from his years under the sun of the Flatlands.

History: From the same disputed territory as his half-sister, Chiraeru, Mathias' childhood was unremarkable. As a first-born, he was schooled appropriately, taught the way of Serkan (though he didn't favour it in his youth), but spent the majority of his time training with his father as a woodsman and scout. He grew very comfortable in the saddle, and his profiecency with the bow grew remarkably well, for a child.

After the raid that conceived Chi, the village lived in a state of fear. His father, among others, sought to follow the drow raiding party, in an effort to save any slaves that were taken but few returned, and the father of Sanoke house wasn't among them. In his absence Mathias tried to fill the role, sticking up for his new little sister against the whole town, and dreaming of the day he was old enough to go after his father, and try to discover what became of him.

His patience wore thin earlier then expected and shortly after his sister's tenth birthday Mathias left without warning, just his mount, Rannoc, and his bow. It was, to say the least, foolish. He was successful in his woodscraft, tracking and stealth, but it was his inexperience at combat that was his downfall, and he was captured by slavers. Of this time he remembers little, spending his hours confined, and drugged into slumber.

Upon waking, he was overseas, and a transaction had been completed, selling him into bond-slavery amongst the Elonnahal, a primitive people living far to the north of Azrian. The weather was harsh, alternating between cool, dry summers and freezing, snowy winters. Over time he learned the language, amongst his part keeping camp, hunting and otherwise tending to the needs of the tribe's chieftain. His time with them honed his skill with the bow, and by his twentieth year, his skills at stealth and mastery of the language made him a valuable asset to the otherwise straight forward raids of the Elonnahal on the other northern tribes, and more civilized villages on the borders of the Flatlands. He was capable of reporting on formations, and quietly dispatching of sentries, as well as providing full-gallop cover fire for his bond-lord.

As happens, when one is part of a new culture for so long, a certain process of assimilation begins, and less did Mathias, 'Weyline' (son of the wolf) as the Elonnahal called him, think of himself as a slave, and more was he treated as a member of the clan. The chieftain, valuing the skills of Mathias, laid more and more responsibility upon his shoulders until he was leading his own small command in defense of their village during a rival village's raid.

This delegation of power did not go unprotested and more then once the chieftain's orders were challenged, until a midsummer's night, in which an influential clan member challenged the chieftain's rulership. In accordance to the laws of the Elonnahal, the chieftain could name a champion, and so he did name Mathias, in the process acknowledging him as a clan member, no longer a slave. The battle, unremarkably won by arrow-fire, was swift, and assured not only the king's right to rule, but Mathias' assimilation of the place of the thane he slew.

As a slave, Mathias' desire to return home was quenched in the helplessness of his position, but given his new found freedom, his heartstrings began to call him home. To his mother and sister, to whom he owed both an apology and explanation. His chieftain, loathing to let him go, offered a great many things, land and the hand of his daughter Guinevere (whom Mathias was more then slightly partial to) amongst them to assure Mathias' return, which he promised to someday do.

As it stands, he's currently in his twenty-seventh year, seeking knowledge of passage back to his home in the city of Eslin, having been there for only a few short days.

Demeanor: The once proper young lad of a culturally sophisticated people still clings to his educated roots, but the years among the Elonnahal tempered his humanity with a warrior's edge, giving him a leaning towards battle and the epic tales that follow it. His patience has been likewise tempered, both by his life as a bond-slave and as a solitary scout and killer. His temper itself is on a relatively lengthy fuse, but he doesn't hesitate to draw blood when threatened. At rest, he's come to enjoy simpler things: Good drink, food and song, number among his favourite, while the little left of his scholarly self seeks to learn. He's fast to find camaraderie with those that stop to share a tale or two, but he feels out of place in larger cities, being used to the openess and tight-knit community of the Elonnahal tribes.