Arn J. Helios

At one point in time Arn Jarvin Helios was the Warden of the group of Paladins that maintain the holy duties of the Citadel Outpost of New Haven. Thus being formally recognized as the figure head of this group of Saradominist devout. He used to uphold the righteous role of gathering the two orders of knights together for the holy rituals that show their faith to Saradomin. "May the Glory of Saradomin shine upon you all like the Sun." -Sir Arn J. Helios Former Warden of New Haven. Saradominist Devout.
 * Born in the Year of 120, of the 5th Age. (49)
 * Personality: Arn is the product of many physically silent years of self reflection, devout prayer, and rigorous physical training. He keeps a submissive and quiet demeanor while he silently judges and analyzes his surroundings. His interests are not so easily brought up with things like small talk, he cares for certain things to a degree that allow him to "tunnel vision" his thoughts at times. Arn upholds the very image of Saradomin's will in every sense of the manor, and would never be found straying from this path. His view on the business of the White & Temple Knights is hardly defined at all. He cares not for what their means of accomplishing their goals are, only that they do it in Saradomins name. When it comes to the Holy Icyene Warriors of Saradomin, he simply regards them as his equals in the fight to spread the word and light of Saradomin. He offer's them as much respect and dignity that he would any other human, and in turn has come to form an unspoken friendly relationship with their kind over the years. Arn's perception for identifying things that would hinder the reign of light in the lands is incredibly keen. Through an enormous time in devout prayer, he has established the incredible ability to see through things for their inner purposes, whether dark and evil, or bright and pure. Arn is also very one sided in his opinion of the gods, he feels that if Guthix were to have his way, the foul and decrepit along with the heretic would be free to run a muck. The emotion of compassion for the opposite gender has long since left Arn's soul. This in turn has developed his personality further to valiantly conduct his holy ways. Not having the blind spot of a woman's touch in his view has allowed him to do so. At one point in his life, Arn was enfatuated with these emotions, this time has long since gone and passed.
 * Appearance: All his life, Arn has been mentally and physically enhanced for his age, reasons unknown. Through many years of training in the Monastery that he was born in, he has succumbed to it's effects. He is a large figure, standing fully to 6'5", he is home to broad shoulders, and a thick body mass. His armor is slightly modified to fit to this specific quality. When out and about, he prefers to keep up a hooded mysterious demeanor, as his thoughts and intentions are usually wondering about. When is a more serious situation, he can reveal a worn face, the result of time and experience in his particular profession. His hair is slowly losing it's life, it takes a shining blonde tone. Arn wears durable chain and platemale armor, embroidered in various areas with small holy symbols to show his faith to Saradomin. A deformed pauldron would sit on either shoulder, neither matching for his ventures have caused him to take many dangerous paths, some of which had caused his garb to suffer from deadly blows. Matching the trim of his armor is a hooded cloak that shows his dedication to the city that he began his journey in, Falador. A set of slings drape out of the back of the neck of his chest plate, beneath his cape that allow him to carry his equipment more easily. The massive pronged broadsword smithed in the name of Saradomin lays beneath it attached to these slings. On his right waist lays his blade, sheethed in it's leather home. Sister like on his left side, lays a flail.
 * History: Arn was discovered at the base of the stairs that lead to the monastery just of the rim of White Wolf mountain mid-day on Fentuary 13th, Year 120 of the Fifth age. One of the younger brother-monks there was astonished one morning to find a small casket, draped with a blanket that lay home to a bright gold star, the heraldic emblem of the God Saradomin. Brother Guilbert looked around, bewildered by the thought of a child appearing by Saradomins will. To quench his curiousness, he pulled back the blanket to reveal the a small infant, a light wisp of blonde hair atop his almost balded head. The child's skin tone obviously still undeveloped fully, but could be easily confirmed as hailing from Asgarnia. The moment he pulled back the blanket, the sun's glow rushed to the child, casting an almost shining effect from his bright skin, Brother Guilbert was almost blinded by this, squinting feverishly as his gaze was almost stained with a bright light. The infant began to cry, as Brother Guilbert attempted to gain his sense's back, stuck in a awe like trance at this occurrence. This moment was what later inspired Guilbert to dub his last name, Helios, an ancient reference to the Sun. Feeling only the need to fulfill the task that he believes Saradomin has cast upon him, the monk warmly embraced the child into the Monastery, and raised him until he could begin his journey to learning the ways of the Will of Saradomin. Later on, feeling that his last name was symbolic enough, he decided to dub the child Arn Jarvin Helios, a common first and middle name for the lands of Asgarnia. When he achieved the age of 7, Brother Guilbert took up the role of his mentor, in an educational and mental manor. Arn was exceptionally perceptive to acknowledging Saradomin's presence in his life, as the only things he knew of his own personal discovery on this realm was more than obviously linked to his influence. Over the next few years, Arn diligently tuned his morals and views on life to the teachings that his mentor and Saradomin offered. He found them fitting to his needs if he was find his true purpose one day, and any hint of his true origin. One day, at the age of 10, Arn was taking a stroll looking for his mentor for he had failed to appear at one of his scheduled lessons. Brother Guilbert fancied himself a bit of practice archery, for he one day aspired to join the ranks of the Temple Knights. Arn was astonished at Brother Guilbert's ability to fire his tool with such precision that he was able to slice through his own arrows three times before the target that lay at the end of the courtyard out back fell over. Arn slowly approached, attempting to not make his presence known but failed when Brother Guilbert's gaze fell upon him whilst he was preparing another arrow. Arn felt almost ashamed that he had been caught spying and was about to turn back to the monastery but Guilbert gestured him over, lightly holding the bow in the air. He was immediately filled with an inspiring urge to wield the bow, and rushed over. Guilbert aided him in properly positioning the arrow, and instructed him on how to fire it. Arn drew back upon the bow, his elbow shaking from the tension. He released the bow string, forcing the arrow to brilliantly sing through the air impaling itself into another target that lay beside the downed one. To the peek of Guilbert's expectations, Arn had managed to sink the arrow directly in the middle of the target. He lay a hand on the boy for a few moments as he pondered within his thoughts as to what purpose this child could truly have in life. He only knew from that moment on, he would aid him to his best abilities to find it. This was brutally cut to an end many years later after Brother Guilbert was drafted into the White Knights to aid them in the defence of Falador. Guilbert lost his life for he was no dedicated soldier, but a man of religion. Four weeks into the siege, word of the struggle the city had on their rations had spread quickly to the Monastery. The congregation of monks there had to decide whether or not they would send aid. Their decisions however upset Arn entirely, they had decided to cower for their lives when words of massive cannons firing upon the city walls by regiments of Chaos Dwarves came in. He would not have any of it, and through his own self determination he found himself courageously approaching a blind side of the city walls a few hours later. Garbed with only his clothes, his mentor's crossbow, and a nap sack filled with food, he found himself obligated to aid the man who offered him so much over the last few years. Whether not guided by the will of Saradomin, or through his own personal brilliance the man was scaling the wall within seconds. Filled with the fuel of righteousness he scrambled to the other side in a few seconds down the rope of the grapple. Upon landing, he immediately found himself gazing upon a sight of death and destruction, the city ablaze what can only be the flames of war. Nothing could prepare Arn for what he had to embrace upon his arrival, not even the holy teachings that his naive mind still had yet to fully grasp. He positioned the crossbow between his legs so that he could awkwardly load a bolt, and sauntered forth a nap-sack clad emblem of what innocent and pure things the world has left in store for it's time remaining. His first encounter of the forces that were storming the castle were also his last. Sticking to the shadows of crumbling structures, he snuck his way to where the last letter he received from his mentor had originated from. Whilst a few meters away from the scorched earth of Falador park, he witnessed a heroic deed by a white clad armored figure. A few children were trying to make their escape when they were cut short by massive black knight, who was about to cleave them all in twain when he was abruptly cut short. He raised his sword to cleave all three of them in twain through, but his blade was stopped by a shining white sword, held by commander Sir Ving of the White Knights. The elderly White Knight, age 77, engaged in combat with the Kinshra leader, giving time for the children to escape. However, being advanced in years, the old Knight was no match for Lord Sulla, and in a blow to the stomach dealt by his adversary, Sir Ving was left to bleed to death on the ground. Arn was at an age where any man of the same would have been able to embrace this sudden occurrence of death. Due to the fact that he had spent the first 40 some years of his life in the sanctimonious environment of the Monastery, he could not help but succumb to the brutish feelings that travel at deaths side. Arn suffered a mental break down, momentarily casting out the teachings of Saradomin that could have aided him in over coming the dark feelings. This left a deep void in Arn, that do this day he has not filled. A few moments later, Sir Tiffy Cashen stumbled upon the sollemn boy. In a rush to get him out of the area, he couldn't help but notice his nap-sack. Sir Tiffy inquired him about it, and in slow drawn out sentences he explained his story in his journey to give aid to his old mentor. It was then that Sir Tiffy informed him of his mentor's brutal death. Sir Tiffy also mentioned that he noticed a significant trait that the man retained, one that was similar to a trait that Guilbert held. He admired this very much, and offered Arn the chance to avenge his mentors death, in a show of his dedication to the Lord Saradomin. Arn, unnaturally large for his size appealed to Sir Tiffy. The option for Arn to join the Temple Knights was offered to him, through the fact that Arn just as Guilbert, was solely dedicated to serving Saradomins will. The journey was rough, and others looked at him as an oddity for he was never a White Knight, but none the less, it produced a finely tuned tool of Holy Honor. Over the next several months, Arn spent his time serving the order of the Temple Knights. The gratuitous training that he succumbed during this time was brutal, but he adapted it into his very genetic code. Arn felt a sense of satisfaction from fighting in the Lord's name. He felt as he had once found that purpose he strove to acknowledge one day. His previous home, the Monastery was in the process of being rebuilt. Arn considered himself a very lucky man, having escaped the Monastery mere moments before it's assault. So for the time being, he decided that his place was with the Temple Knights. During one of his many excursions into the mainlands, he found his gaze cast upon one of the Paladins of the City Ardougne. Arn was astonished that one could fight in the name of Saradomin without having to be a part of some sacrilegious order. He found himself oddly compelled to take on this role, after acquainting himself with this Paladin. His name was Jacque Le'Gaunt, and his faith for Saradomin was as strong as Arn's. The two quickly became friends of the sort, sharing personal thoughts on the morals that the Light of Saradomin offers. Shortly after, Arn resigned from the Temple Knights honorably, receiving a send off in the most appropriate manor. Over the next few months, Arn and "Jackie" wandered the lands, offering to spread the light of Saradomin where it was needed, along with aid to those who required it. However none of this was able to quench Arn's desire to show his true abilities to the Lord Saradomin. He was constantly finding ways to better the lands and himself in the name of Saradomin. It was a few years later, at the uncovering of the God Wars Dungeon that Arn found himself once again tested by his Lord's will. He took up the challenge, leaving the side of his companion Jackie to saunter into the depths of the Dungeon. Many months did Arn spend in the dungeon, fighting and recovering from wounds in a repetitive process. Each bit of flesh that was taken from Arn, was a little piece of his inner sanity that went with it. Every chunck of flesh he ripped from a beast or corrupt warrior, was a large piece of determination that he gained back. There was no doubt that the dark Lord Zamorak's forces were slowly pushing the other armies back, but none the less Arn continued to fight valiantly for his cause. Slowly, bit by bit, Arn began to shine vibrantly in the eyes of the forces of Saradomin like a monument to humanities dedication to their Lord Saradomin. The Icyene commanders and soldiers began to recognize Arn as an equal to their cause, casting away the persecution that come along with Racial difference. Arn was slowly wearing himself out, physically and mentally. The amount of effort it took to continue his ways was tremendous. His comrades recognized this, and made a decision. One "morning" when Arn awoke from passing out after succumbing to a wound to the left arm, he was lifted into the arms of the Centaur Browler, bodyguard to the General of Saradomins forces. He brought him into the chamber of Commander Zilyana followed behind by a portion of the forces who were currently paying their respects to him. After a massively long speech from Commander Zilyana, she bestowed upon him a mighty tool of Saradomins will. The staff was a show of the Light that Saradomin casts upon his followers, an ancient weapon of tremendous power. He was asked to pray at the altar in her chamber, to show his true devotion to the Lord. He did so willfully, placing the head of the blade into the ground before placing his forehead against the golden emblem of Saradomin. A few moments into his prayer, the emblem began to glow with holy power. Each individual time he prayed for one of his fellow comrades, friends, and his old mentor, the old emblem continued to shine brighter. A vibrant light was cast into the chamber, blinding all those not already attuned to Light. All of the magical beings within the room could instantly sense of new source of power residing within Arn. Some sacrilegious fool might claim that Saradomin himself blessed a human with the power to smite those who stood against the Light. But then a scholar may claim that the sword was somehow imbued with an ancient power that lay dormant within the altar, simply blessing the sword with it in a transference of power. No one may never know, but the product was brilliant. A human, devout in every sense of the manor had fully grasped the Light the Saradomin offered. This task had been accomplished before, but not in an extremely long time. Thus Arn was dubbed a shining monument to the forces of Saradomin. Commander Zilyana demanded that he return to the grounds above them, to continue to fight in the same manor that he did in the Dungeon. She also made him swear an oath to the forces that he so valiantly stood before. The forces of the dark were pushing towards them slowly, and they would need reinforcements if they were to end this fight in their Lord's name. It was the will of Commander Zilyana that Arn lead a group of the devout to return one day to aid them. He gave them his word, and set onward to gather forces worthy of fighting for Saradomin in the dungeon. Arn stumbled out of the entrance as his comrades created a diversion for him to escape. Most of them lost their lives, but for good cause. Arn will never forget those who aided him in his journey, nor will he forget the ones that he will encounter on it. Although many may not know who he is, Arn can be perceived as the human champion that fights for Holy reign. His current objective is to locate the commander of the White Knights, to try and turn his cause to his own, a slightly modified Crusade to replace their own. Before he left the dungeon, Commander Zilyana pulled him aside to inform him of massive flying citadels that have been uncovered, she suggested to him that inhabiting one of these would be a fitting base for him to begin his holy crusde. Through Arn showing the Light that New Haven offers in these dark and trying times to him, Commander Tiberious Elysian has led a detachment of his forces to the Citadel. Thus began a New Age for the White Knights and those who wish to show their devotion to the Lord Saradomin. All were welcome in the Citadel, should they have had appropriate means of getting there in the first place, of course. Word of New Haven spread quickly, many lingering holy forces had gained knowledge of it's presence, and aided it until it's reign ended. Now, with the return of Arn, he intends to revive the glorious group of devout, in yet another tempt to cleanse the city of Faldor from prestilence that remains.