Post by asgard on Jun 13, 2011 2:08:58 GMT -5
Ferin
Name: Ferin
Age: 17
Gender: male
Prisoner: yes
Crime: murder
Craft/Rank: none
Appearance: Ferin is a brown boy: brown hair, brown eyes and brown complexion. He is neither tall not short, though his limbs seem longer than normal. He is of medium build, though well proportioned, and indeed seems totally non-descript. There is nothing memorable about his appearance, unless one looks into the depth of his eyes to find the pain and hate there.
Personality: Ferin hates the world he lives in, not because he is selfish or paranoid, but because by rights he believes he shouldn't BE a convicted criminal. Yes, he had killed the man, and no it hadn't been self-defence. But that man had killed his sister even if he'd never physically wielded the knife she slit her wrists with. And so he is ANGRY with the world, hating its perception of justice.
He lost his sense of humour the day his sister was damaged by the Lord. Now he is more outwardly passive but with a violence hidden beneath the calm. His mouth might smile, but his eyes never do, and this difference between the real Ferin and the apparent one makes him seem even to himself deceptive, unstable and untrustworthy.
Underlying it all, though, is the small voice that says "why us?" and hurts so much the tears would fill an ocean. He has lost faith in the goodness of mankind, and sometimes wonders why he bothers associating himself as human at all. He longs for his innocence, but knows it is all gone, and that the twist of fate that brought him this far has made him a different person to the courageous, impulsive boy he had once been.
History: Ferin was born in a small cothold in Telgar to parents who had only succeeded in birthing one living child before him, and only one after. Both sisters and his parents were content to spoil him as his father's heir, and he grew up a fine hunter, competant farmworker and excellent shot with a bow. He was a happy child in a happy loving but hardworking family, until the day the Lord visited the cot to check on the field yieldages.
The Lord's eyes fell on the sweet and innocent younger daughter, and Ferin saw the lust within them. Since Felina was only 13 at the time, and Ferin 16, Ferin hoped nothing would come of it. It was the older sister that concerned him at the time, for she was obviously dazzled by the Lord's steward, also present.
It was three months later that the offer came for Felina to come serve the Lord's daughter. The steward brought it, with utterly polite correctness. Felina remembered the Lord and excitedly wondered what the girl was like. Ferin was less concerned about the daughter than the Lord himself and yet said nothing. With a visible conflict of emotions, the Steward took her with him and Ferin followed.
Thus on the day before Felina turned fourteen, they arrived at the Hold, and Ferina was delivered to the Lord's chambers, NOT the daughter's and Ferin hid among the hidden corridors in the back of the hold. Some candlemarks later, he found Ferina huddled on the floor outside the Lord's chambers, sobbing with pain and shock, face bleeding from the scratches she'd inflicted on herself.
He helped her find the steward, whose sister took charge of Ferina, but stayed out of sight so he wasn't seen. He went back to the Lord's chamber, slid into the room, and slit the sleeping man's throat. In rage he set fire to the bed as well... Then he sat outside the door awaiting judgement.
He arrived at Warden Weyr three sevendays later, but not before he'd learned his families real tragedy. His parents were cast out, his elder sister too, and his little sister killed herself rather than face the world with the ruin of her face and reputation. He never even got to say goodbye.
At the Weyr he'd been tractable and never complained. He'd earned his way here, and he accepted it, but he knew life could have been worse if he hadn't behaved well. When the breakout happened, he just followed, never really in conflict, but also never really sure he'd survive the night. His youth and knowledge of hunting helped however, as did the fact he never once defied any of the others openly.
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