|Guild||No guild affiliation|
Darokin has a lean frame but muscular shoulders and arms from years of archery practice. His hair is short-cropped, for comfort under armor. He smiles often, and has a retort ready on his lips, but its often of a sardonic sort; his smiles rarely reach his eyes.
Given that Hyboria is a land of constant mortal threat, Darokin is rarely found without his armor and weaponry at hand.
Darokin is, at core, a pragmatist; he understands Mitra's message, but understands that those who follow a peaceful path often end up at the bottom of an unmarked grave. He is, generally speaking, polite and courteous, with attempts at 'charming', but its all cover for a pragmatic assessment. He will not casually kill, but if given a sufficient reason will do so without many qualms (depending, of course, on circumstance).
Born to a farmer family in the Bossonian Marches, Darokin's favorite game when growing up was "hide and seek"; a very pragmatic preference, given the semi-regular incursions by Pictish raiders. Like most born in the Marches, he was born with a bow in his hand, and by the age of twelve was regularly bringing home the makings of coney stew. When he was fourteen, he joined the local militia for training as what the officers called "irregular skirmishers", and what most Bossonians thought of as "sneaky bastards". Every worship day, after a few extra hours of sleep at the local chapel of Mitra, Darokin would join the other youths in static practice at the buttes.
When he was fifteen he was summoned to the muster, and marched to relieve Fort Blackridge on the Thunder River, which was essentially under siege by an alliance of Pictish Bear, Raven, and Turtle clans. Picts were a primitive people, short and swarthy, with broad shoulders, deep chests, and black eyes and hair, and most of them were armed with crude bows and spears. They wore little more than animal skins, but could fade into the forests like ghosts.
In a combined force of Poitan cavalry, Gunderman spearmen, and their own scouts and archers, they reinforced the Fort's garrison, and endured wave after wave of screaming, savage attacks. Darokin was one of the scouts picked to locate and eliminate clan shamans, whose magics inspired a fierce fanaticism. Eventually the Picts broke on the anvil of Fort Blackridge, and Darokin was offered enlistment into a regular Aquilonian archer unit. Darokin sent a letter home, and began his new career.
Over the next few years, Darokin would travel at the King's command; time in garrison on the Westermarck, punative raids into Cimmeria from the Border Kingdom, and bandit suppression along the Nemedian border. He fought with the Aquilonian ranks at the Battle of Valkia, and captured by the Nemedians. Like so many soldiers captured on the battlefield, and not of noble rank, Darokin was cast into slavery, and sent back to Nemedia.
As a slave, Darokin worked for several masters, and when King Tarascus was defeated by King Conan, like so many of the Aquilonian slaves taken in the war, he was sold before he could be repatriated, to a Shemite slaver, and marched south. He was sold in Shem to the galleys, and time ceased to have meaning - until a storm sent the galley to the bottom of the sea, washing Darokin up on the beach near Tortage.
Further tales of Darokin may be found on the player's private forums (www.medinnus.com/board/ ) or on the Wiccana RP Server (www.wiccana.org/ )