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Little is known of Arian's origins. As far as anyone knows, the formidable young man has forsaken the path of his family and refused a life of serfdom. Although of common blood, swirling dreams, radiant energy and aristocratic ambition emanant with his every move. Abandoning menial work in the Crownlands, Arian came to Arx to seek his fortune and roll the dice of life. While familiar with a plough and scythe, his apparent skill with a blade interests some and makes others wary.

Tall in stature and broad of shoulder, Arian stands a head above most other men. His dense musculature is obvious, most prominent in the width of his chest, the rise of stacked delts and rippling traps, and the sheer thickness of bulging biceps and chiseled triceps. He has a healthy amount of fat, never wanting for a meal, fair flesh smooth and largely unblemished. However, his waist is relatively trim and leads into a rock-hard, well defined midriff. His visage is a charming combination of masculine strength and boyish good looks. A strong, squared jaw frames his face, drawing up into thin, pink lips that often quirk at the corners, and a proud, slightly upturned nose. Ice blue eyes would catch your attention. Depending on his mood, they either hold a cold pallor; a daring, wolfish gleam; or a rippling storm of thought and emotion. Crowning his head, golden blond hair, verging on platinum, reaches down to the bottom of his ears. With a strong part down the middle, the fine, fair strands act as curtains.

Cool of temperament, Arian is quick to smile, laugh or toss over a wink. The young man doesn't seem to have any issue getting along with most, brash and blunt with some, whilst calm and collected with others. However, upon closer inspection there's a storm of emotion roiling behind the twinkle of his cold gaze, lending to the idea that there's more to him than first meets the eye.