Name: Silas Sorano
Race: Amyrian (Lower)
A tall and slender man, Silas is by no means a brute. Yet to describe him as weak would be a foolish misconception. Whilst his form portrays that of one who lacked nutrition in youth, below his blackened coat, lies the form of a swimmer. Sturdy and slim with very little fat, the face of the man has often been described as almost skeletal, an ominous image at that.
Silas is not one for bright colours, sticking to the dark of blacks and greys. His signature piece is a long black overcoat that covers his body from neck to knee, buckled and buttoned shut by braces and bolts, golden flecks against a pitch-black night. Across his chest, a series of leather holders, twin sheaths on either side of his waist, with a belt that cuts across his midsection. Finally, the man sticks to a thick pair of boots, heavy and darkened leather, simplistic as the rest.
Two Hero Steel Parry Knives
One Woodsman's Axe
One Sollarium Longbow
Several Empty Vials
A pair of Gloves
One wine bottle of Glass Bug Blood
One short sword
Woodworking: When one spends plenty of time in thick jungles and mighty forest, you tend to find the world around you can offer exactly what you need, since his earliest expeditions, Silas has taken well to the art of woodworking, becoming proficient in bow making as one as more artistic matters such as sculpturing.
Orator: When one lacks in brawn, brains tend to be useful. Silas has been granted the gift of the gab by his forefathers, a silver tongue and an air of diplomacy, you are more often to find Silas discussing his foes to death than you are to see him actually harming them. It is his pride to out debate, to riddle and trick his opponents into word pits and laugh as their arguments become putty in his hands.
Seeker: Silas is one for adventure and discovery, having spent much of his young life experimenting and exploring land beyond the realms of safety and in some cases mortality. In this regard, he has developed a keen eye for detail, sharp intelligence and an obsessive nature that tends to border on self-destructive. An avid hunter of both people and places, things and curiosities, combining it with his obsessive nature often leads to a chase that will end only one way.
Researcher: From a young age, Silas has been a hunter of the unanswered questions, a man with an almost insatiable drive for knowledge and understanding. This led him to work first and an explorer before finally settling into a role as a somewhat mad tinkerer, eccentrically building and creating for the Amryian Empire, in pursuit of his own more clouded goals.
In his current role, Silas is one of the Solariums researchers, acting in the pursuit of science and experimentation. He is often found in the basement of the winery, exploring the natural world and trying to best divine each creature's innate abilities into his allies and his own.
Personality & Attributes: Silas is a loudmouth, often being heard before being seen. His ability to speak coupled with his rather crass nature can often lead people to believe that he is immature and foolish. Yet beneath his carefully created mask is a sharp mind and a burning sense of pride. Silas is neither immature nor foolish, he is a driven personality, unrelenting and obsessive. Unable to merely let go of something, especially if he feels like his intelligence is being questioned.
Though, as contradictions often go, Silas is not what his core decides, able to twist on a whim to suit his needs. From friendly and open to cold and calculating, Silas has a knack of knowing exactly how to be, to get exactly what he requires. It could be said that it comes down to his origins, the trauma felt even now some seventeen years later and the blank slate it left on who he was.
However, the man is not without his vices, a flirt through and through with incredibly poor impulse control, Silas can very quickly slip into drink or addiction. This coincides with his lack of control and self-preservation, willingly putting himself in the path of danger, a thrill he has often sought to feel more alive than ever before. But one must always be wary when working with him for Silas, the ends will always justify the means no matter who or what it costs.
Being a rebel is fine whilst the tide is in your favour. If a sentence could aptly describe Silas Sorano, it was that. Born to an Amyrian family in the butcher’s block region by the name of Alfred Ethelred, the Ethelreds had very little. That was the way of things in the slum and as people in the very dreg of society, there was little room for advancement. One of many children, Silas was a middle child, expected perhaps to die off at a young age or join the grand army of the empire. Yet that would not be his fate, for the Ethelred held a dark secret, something that if discovered would spell doom for all of them.
For beneath the pits and disease-ridden streets, his mother and father cursed the lady for her lies and cruelty. For they saw what the many would not, the corruption of man, the binding of their will to something evil parading as something light. His father especially, a once-promising scribe, spoke in long drawn speeches of the old ones, his lord and the one day return of all that was good. Though most of his siblings did not listen to the paranoid old man, Silas did, listening intently to the sermons and lessons, hate and bile building at his core. His young mind was twisted by the teachings, whispering soft prayers to a being his father saw only in dreams and memories.
One might suggest that this time was good, a bright spot in a miserable existence, yet in the end, all things must come to an end. A rat in the gutter, spilt the truth of his father to the church, his tongue wagging away till even he was cast to the pyre, much to his surprise of course. In the early morning hours they came, a band of men, crashing through the rotting door and carting the family, all save for poor young Alfred. He’d been in the basement at the time, heard the clamours of shouting and breaking, screams and cries. The boy slipped beneath a grate, watching as men in robes came forth to burn his sacred place, the fires of his own ignorance growing as the flames did.
It would be there that most stories end, up in smoke and another name in the footnotes of history. Yet this was not to be Silas end, for something placed its hand upon the string of fate, pulling it free of danger and placing it aside. From the smouldering ruins, he emerged, caked in ash and burning inside and out. The boy slipped into the early morning hours, fading into the darkness of the slums.
Silas would not reappear in the records till the age of eighteen, where a young, well mannered and decided aloof looking man would apply for the Amyrian Army. He had nothing more than a name, no home, no next of kin, a blank slate. Though able, he was not cut out for a soldier's life, never matching the activeness of his peers. Yet sooner or later, his keen eyes and foolish disregard for his own life (Often mistaken for bravery), would catch the eye of his superiors, leading his along a slippery path towards a role in both colonisation and exploration. It was here the man began to shine, tracking, hunting, survival skills and of course, a need to unlock the many mysteries of the world. Yet he did not do this for his country, he did this for himself, to learn all he could in his fight, to become one with his foe and burn it from the inside out.
Yet it would be deep in the jungles of a forgotten land, that Silas would gain his greatest fear, casting himself deep into a temple long lost to time, hearing whispers of those gone before and the endless mass of remains that littered the walls, his mind was overrun by the memory of his childhood, the dark one that eyed him from the corner, the debt it would take upon his own expiration. So there, in the dim light of a torch, he swore a vow, to find a way to cheat death, to find a way to answer the last question of all.