Helvet

Helvet
Status	Active
Race	Elf
Gender	Male
Guild	Bard
Instance	Prime

You are Helvet, an Elf. You have a triangular face, pointed ears, brown eyes and a small nose. Your brown hair is short and straight. You have blue-veined skin and a stout build. You are short for an Elf. You are young.

Helvet grew up an outcast among a group of traveling dwarves that loved drink, song and dance. A rough group that enjoyed bacchanal parties just as much as hard work, Helvet learned much about life from a very different perspective than most. Silvyrfrost picked up Helvet when the traveling troupe passed through the Crossings during a period of magical unrest when Helvet began to lose control of his magical aptitude due to the wild magic surge. Taken under the wing of the red-haired songstress, Helvet learned much about his elemental attunement and how to weave the waves of sound in the atmosphere to the benefit, or detriment, of his surroundings. Still under the tutelage and close watch of Silvyrfrost's dreamy, mismatched silver and crystal blue eyes, Helvet has room to grow amongst the citizens of Zoluren.

During his travels with his dwarven troupe, Helvet stuck out like a sore thumb amongst his brethren. Surrounded by sturdy dwarves wearing chainmail and plate armor, Helvet chose to honor his elven ancestry and wear leather armor. It was a sight to behold, a short elf awkwardly stumbling around with platemail getting beaten down by creatures of all kinds. Much of his childhood was spent thickening his skin, with many scars full of stories to tell sitting around a campfire. He adapted into wearing the skins procured every so often that would only go towards repairing clothing and bags for his family. Waste not, want not. He swings his warhammer like lightning to strike down any foe in his path. Once he even smashed a Celpeze head into a fine red mist with his warhammer! I swear it's true!