Arathorn Everric

"Truth is, my family fell apart many years ago. This is no different, but I will make sure that their name is great once more, even if I disgrace myself in doing so."

- Arathorn

 Arathorn Julian Everric (Eh-ra-thorn Joo-Lee-ehn Eh-verr-rick) is a human anti-hero and descendant of the Moon Clan, and in turn, a descendant of Ariston Everric and Garrick Everric. Arathorn's involvement in the Everric family as a whole is rather minimal and he prefers to travel the world, making his name known where he can, operating under the alias '''Raven. '''Arathorn himself is the son of Robert Everric and the deceased Alexandria Everric. In turn, Arathorn prefers to travel the world, and in contrast to most of the living Everric, Arathorn is a dark, egotistical, overly-confident and impulsive individual. Most could view him as the darker counterpart to his distant cousin, Gabriel Everric.

Arathorn was created and role-played by Matt.

History
This section covers Arathorn's biographical history.

Origin and Early Life
In the late fifth age, Robert Everric, a Lunar Mage and his then wife, Alexandria Everric, gave birth to a black-haired baby with lime-green eyes, they named him Arathorn. Arathorn always showed darker qualities when he was just a young boy, especially after his mother, Alexandria, passed away when he was only four.

When Arathorn was a young ward, at about the age of seven, he was sent to train at the Wizard's tower, where he showed great promise and skill, though he found himself trying to use the strongest of spells, and found himself over-exerting and passing out. Despite all this, he continued to try his hardest at casting the most powerful of magicks. Eventually, with the correct guidance, Arathorn became adept at the elemental magics.

At the age of fourteen, he was sent to Aspera Tower Academy to train, and quickly he quickly a self-induced outcast. Despite all attempts at people trying to make friends with him, including Garth and Evelyn Aren, Arathorn remained reclusive due to his strange circumstances. He ended up learning the four schools of the Ancient Magicks and several others whilst finally befriending Garth. Together the two excelled through the academy, though they maintained their distance and didn't accept any high honors that they may have recieved.

The Raven
After an argument and eventual falling-out between Garth and Arathorn, Arathorn departed Aspera and left to explore the world at the age of eighteen. With this, Arathorn began his adventures throughout the world, becoming well-travelled, studying where he could. Coupling with this, Arathorn became somewhat of a mercenary mage, and a sort of vigilante, emerging from his reclusive shell and becoming the confident, yet brooding individual that he is today.

Arathorn took contracts where he could, avoiding his family at most costs until he happened upon Yanille, where his great-great grandfather, Garrick, resided. Arathorn travelled back to Yanille at about twenty-two, flickering his eyes about the area, many green-eyed and black-haired individuals lived there, but they registered as Arens. The only discernable difference were the shade of the eyes, Everric always had brighter eyes. Arathorn finally dropped his shoulders, sighing deeply, he had let down his guard and found himself quickly bumping into Garrick.

Garrick smiled, being a rather tall fellow, he looked down at Arathorn. Arathorn strangely enough, was one of the shortest members of his family, being only 5'8", his gaze flickered upward and almost immediately downward once he saw Garrick's eyes. "Hello there." Garrick said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello." Arathorn's head lowered, his hand almost moving to the dagger, but he stopped himself. He looked up to Garrick to catch a glimpse of his face again, and was rather surprised to see the point in his ears. "You-.. you have pointed ears."

"Half-Elf." Garrick replied bluntly despite keeping a grin on his features. "You are not an Aren either-.. Matter-of-fact, you could be one of my children."

"I have no family." Arathorn retorted sharply as he turned to step away.

"You are an Everric." Garrick called out, smiling gently as he watched Arathorn trail off.

At this, Arathorn's eyes widened, his form contorted as he shifted on his feet to face Garrick. "How did you know?" He inquired, knowing this man was somehow related to him.

"Your eyes, your hair. Only Everric have them." Garrick approached as he replied, smiling as he set his hands upon Arathorn's shoulders and began telling him about all he knew of the Everric. After their conversation had just about ended, a raven landed upon Arathorn's shoulder. In turn, a black-cat, Russ, appeared upon Garrick's shoulder. Garrick smiled brightly, looking at the bird and commanding it to stay with Arathorn.

Arathorn seemed unable to grasp the concept of the bird being here, a quizzical expression lingered on his features, and he was absolutely astounded to see the bird speak. Eventually, after a short conversation, Arathorn finally made the decision to name the bird Corvin. It was this day that Arathorn decided to continue in his studies, being trained at the Aren Arcane Institute for about three more years until he was given free leave by Garrick.

Ties That Bind
Arathorn took Corvin and departed Yanille, this time he travelled southward and took a leisurely stroll toward Oo'glog, passing by Gu'Tanoth and the surrounding Jungles. After avoiding the Ogre's for a few days, Garrick continued his journey one day with Corvin on his shoulder. An arrow flew from nowhere, clipping Corvin's wing and pinning him to a tree. In a few moments, there was a scream and a yell, notably of a more tribal nature; Arathorn was knocked out cold, hit with a mace on the side of the head, and then beaten after he collided with the ground.

When he next awoke, he he was in a strange facility, looking to be somewhere underground, in reality it was a series of tunnels beneath Gu'Tanoth, only a few hundred feet away from the Skavid Caves. It was a group of Zamorakian fanatics who had a hold of him, led by a mage. An occultic ritual was being performed, Corvin was in a cage nearby, Arathorn's vision was blurry, his entire body in pain as he struggled to keep himself awake. He shifted about, only to find that he had been restrained by chains, and was completely naked, beaten and bloodied.

He had no idea how long he had been here, though it seemed to have been a few days. He was in the back of the Ritual Chamber, all he could hear from it was that the leader's name, the wizard, was "Master Leotrun." He continued to struggle, yelling with whatever strength that yet remained within his body. After a few moments, he found himself passing out once again. After he had passed out, he was released from his chains and allowed to sleep for a a couple of days. When he awoke again, he found himself still within the ritual chamber, being force-fed bread and water.

They left him once more, his wounds had begun to heal a bit more, and the pain in his body was slightly lessened than from when  he could last remember. He watched as another prisoner's blood was drained from their body by a simple puncture to the femoral artery in the leg, and the blood was pumped into a single, large cistern. It appeared to be more of a tub than anything, but Arathorn did not care at the time, he was only in  horror at the sight of it. The body was dragged out, and Arathorn once again passed out, it was unknown to him whether it was from the sight of all the blood, or just from his own mental and physical exhaustion.

Arathorn awoke once more, this time, it was when he made contact with the ground, and he was forced up by two of the fanatic guards. The guards prodded him in the back with their spears and pushed him onward to the center of the ritual chamber, the cult was small, likely only twenty people in full were within it. Arathorn's gaze flickered around the room, the one known as "Master Leotrun" approached him.

"Everric-.. Good. You're finally awake. I am Theodore Leotrun, and you will remember my name." The Leotrun Wizard's hair was fully white, and he seemed to be older, sporting a long, sage's beard. The man held a dagger in his hand, and he brought it up to Arathorn's right eye before proceeding to run it from his forehead, across his right eye and down to the beginning of his cheek. The man only spared his eye, leaving a small incision in the eyelid as well. Arathorn only bled more, biting his lip so that he didn't cry out in pain.

Theo grinned a sinister grin before he turned off towards the rest of the small crowd that had gathered, he lifted his arms stating, "Behold! A sacrifice! To our Lord, Zamorak!"

Arathorn had been surveying the room still, ignoring the aches and pains in his body as his gaze came to rest upon the blood. His eyes flashed a bright lime-green, he was slumped over, the blood had begun to draw to him, very slowly as it coursed up his figure and into his hands. It took a few moments for anyone, even the nearby guards, to register what exactly was happening. Arathorn lofted both hands into the air before him and within them appeared two whips of blood, one in each hand. He spun his body around, first lashing around and slicing at the necks of both guards, leaving a trail of blood, and much to their own chagrin, their necks were sliced open.

Arathorn cried out angrily, descending into a frenzy, killing everyone within the room. Theo ran away from the center of the chamber, only to find his leg being wrapped about by a blood whip of blood, the blood had increased due to the rest of the cultists being killed. Arathorn pulled him in and spoke, engulfing most of Theodore's body into a ball of blood, except for up to the head. "I will remember your name, Theodore. But know this, my name will be the last you hear. I am Arathorn Everric, and you will pay."

As soon as Arathorn had finished his short speech, Theodore opened his mouth to offer a presumably sarcastic retort. Instead of this, he found that the blood had begun to trail into his own mouth and that he began to choke upon it as no man or woman can truly consume blood, especially not breathe it. In a few moments, the blood fell to the floor, followed up quickly by a blue-faced and lifeless Theodore Leotrun.

Arathorn stood there before promptly collapsing, he was once again, unconscious. in some way, shape or form, Corvin had found his way from his cage and proceeded to fly over to him. He flew away, finding himself outside of the place and flying to Yanille in a mere few moments. Arathorn awoke a few moments later, standing, he had blood all over his nude form as he stumbled weakly out of the Ritual Chamber. Through the small series of catacombs, he traversed, and once he had reached daylight, he collapsed once more. He had no strength to continue, and he began to cough again.

Arathorn's next awakening took place in the infirmary of the Aren Arcane Institute, Garrick standing over him, Russ and Corvin perched on either shoulder. Garrick smiled warmly, glad to see that Arathorn had pulled through this whohle ordeal. He set his hand on him, telling him that he was proud, and that there was much more in store for him, greater and better things. For Arathorn, this was a life-changing experience, and it made him begin his studies in the darker side of magic.

The Man of Today


Arathorn's return into the modern world started with him meeting with Evelyn Aren, a former friend from Aspera, Gabriel Everric and Gabriel's little brother Ravalan. For a few moments they spoke on the past, Gabriel was having a hard time discerning who exactly he was and what relation he was to him. But, Gabriel finally decided to ask, wondering if Arathorn was truly an Everric, to which Eve replied solemnly, telling him he was indeed an Everric.

After an encounter with Garth, and a sarcastic exchange of wit between the two old friends, Arathorn chuckled, departing along with his crow, and teleported off to Seers Bar where he met Michael and an older mercenary named Kaiser.

Trivia

 * As a son of Robert, Arathorn has many half-siblings, and no few full-siblings. His half-siblings include Lynette, Caedmon and Celene.
 * Arathorn's name, Arathorn, comes from J.R.R. Tolkien's the Lord of the Rings, Arathorn is the father of Aragorn, one of the main heroes of the series. However, the Arathorn the name was chosen in homage to Hunter and his longstanding use of the characters Aranitus Aren and Aralyn Aren.
 * Arathorn's favorite colours are black and green.
 * At the age of seven, after a short return home from the Wizard's Tower, he was present for the births of his distant cousins, Gabriel and Arkaevum.
 * Arathorn is one of the shortest adult members of his family, and some of his cousins are his height or taller.