Oliver Arterius

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Oliver Arterius
Social Rank 8
Fealty Thrax
House Arterius
Gender Male
Age 33
Religion Pantheon
Vocation Leatherworker
Height 6'4"
Hair Color Black
Eye Color Coffee
Skintone Burnt Honey
Family
Cousins Orelia Stonewood
Journals
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Description

Imposingly tall, this broad-shouldered man edges out at six feet, four inches in height, with a strong and muscular frame that borders is stocky without becoming burly. His skin is like burnt honey and he is covered in tattoos - bold, thick black lines that make different, intricate patterns over his arms and shoulders, chest and back. There are numerous scars that mar his skin along with the tattoos, though these are also seen on his face, specifically a slash around the left eye and a few pocks on his defined jaw that is peppered in about a day's worth of stubble. He has a bit of a weathered look to him, more than a little rough along the edges, but there is a certain depth to his coffee coloured eyes which foretells of potential warmth. Black hair is kept trimmed at the sides and slightly longer at the top, which is often styled to appear spikey.

Personality

Oliver is a man with a purpose - to never again be returned to Thralldom, and to make a name for himself. He does not form close friendships often and tends to be untrusting of people in general, but that does not mean that he is unfriendly. After all, he is a business man with an economic mind, and it is hard to get business from people you aren't friendly towards. So, most people see him as a rather jovial storyteller type, always willing to share a tale (tall or otherwise) about an adventure that he's been on, or a sight that he has seen. He can, at times, be a brooder and seems to always be attached to a flask or bottle, though he is more 'functioning drunk' than 'alcoholic'.

Background

Oliver was not always a thrall, nor was he always named Oliver. The first twelve years of his life were spent with an abandoned tribe outside of the Darkwater region, a mostly peaceful society with a few rotten eggs. In the eve of his twelfth year, those less content with the tribe's way of living opted to rise up against the Barony. It was an uprising that was easily put down, and those who did not fight were given a choice - bend the knee, or become a thrall. Bending the knee seemed like the right and proper choice for Oliver.

He spent the next several years as an apprentice under a leatherworker, who could not speak his tongue and did not understand how to say his true name. And so Oliver he became. He was a dutiful apprentice, willing to work hard and learn quickly, but it also turned out that he had a keen mind and an edge for economics. It was a mind that was coveted by a merchant passing through on his way to the Saffron Chains, who won Oliver's trust through friendliness and praise over the young man's leatherworking. It was this trust that was exploited, when he made Oliver a deal that sounded too good to be true - a few year's worth of work on the ship in turn for his own shop and patronage - and certainly turned out to be just that, when the contract was signed. And that was how Oliver became a thrall.

He spent the next several years in the Merchant man's company. Life really could have been far worse; he certainly saw his fair share of terrible atrocities with the other thralls that the Merchant kept. But he put his skills as a leatherworker, as well as his economically-bent mind, to use for the Merchant and often had enough food to keep him mostly full. On the ship and off, he was taken all over Arvum, visiting places that most people only imagine. He began to paint and sculpt using wood bits and scraps, and Oliver's talent for recreating landscapes and building earned the Merchant quite a bit more silver. It was not the life that Oliver ever wanted, or asked for, but he never stopped believing that the Merchant would one day hold true to his word, release him from his bonds, and give him a shop that he could call his own.

He was thirty-two the day that this dream became a reality. Inexplicably, his debt was paid in full, along with the debts of all the other thralls in the Merchant's employ, as part of a deal made by another former thrall. It was a blessing, perhaps, as the Merchant made one last deal that evening and was never heard of again.

Oliver spent another year roaming, exploring, before he finally made his way to Arx, in part to join the family of the woman who freed him of his bonds. But also to settle and make a name for himself, to ensure that he is his own man, and always will be.