Aldus is an olived-toned, lean man standing at a height of 5'10". His head is adorned with jet-black locks. His hair is styled as he sees fit on the particular day. Dark chocolate eyes reflect the light of day, to milky at sunset, to nearing black in morning fog. He is of lean build, his handsome features and chiseled jaw always curled into a charming smile.
The young man wears a coat for the winter months, which both shields his body from the cold and belies a friendlier identity than that of a cloak, which some could take as being untrustworthy. His posture is straight while standing up, though in a seated position, he leans forward in order to purposefully engage those sitting near him.
*
Aldus, for the most part, raised himself. Lost to the lawlessness within the city of Sunberth, Aldus was forced to fend for himself at the young age of seven. He learned to live in a world of anarchy, vowing to leave it behind when he was able. When he turned 16, that was just what he did.
Wandering aimlessly for years, the boy persisted, taking what he needed in order to feed and clothe himself. Pilfering small trinkets from merchant stalls, picking the pockets of unwitting citizens, the boy grew into a devious young man.
It wasn't until he reached Syliras that he learned the true craft. He watched, astounded, as wizened, older men crafted outlandish tales of battle and victory, of magic and monsters. They spoke for hours on end, to an audience of spellbound patrons spilling miza after miza into a sack on a nearby table. The bartender would swill the same mug over and over, captivated by such wordcraft. Aldus was enthralled by it. And in time, it would become the life he wished to lead. It was his destiny.
Though he had decided that the life of a bard would become his destiny, Aldus is consistently distracted by his desires. He has a penchant for stealing, which has evolved into something beyond a need for resources. A diversion, a habit, either of these words could define it. But mostly, stealing is just... fun.
A living nightmare. That was the life of a young, inquisitive child in the city of Sunberth. Decadence, greed and criminal activity ran rampant, the crime syndicates well-established in the absence of an appointed law enforcement. To live in this place was to live a half-life, to exist as a shell, struggling to survive. To live there and survive was to adopt tenacity and ruthlessness as virtues. Aldus Beaumont, the product of two humans, Alessia and Oloro Beaumont, did not learn this lesson until it was too late.
He had decided to explore the city, searching for something of interest in a life ridden with boredom, so fixated on survival as it was. He'd earned a few mizas in the past week, begging, looking up at hardened, bitter faces, and just managing enough sympathy to not be ignored. Satisfied with his score for the time being, he decided to roam, instead. The decision would save his life.
Aldus did not return until late evening, the small cottage's door kicked in, torn asunder and completely parted from its hinges. The boy would run towards the cottage, eyes wide in fear as he frantically searched for his parents. In the entryway, he would find nothing but disaster, wreckage beyond recognition.
Entering the tiny sitting room, he would find his mother crumpled to the floor face-down, crimson blossomed across the visible back of her white blouse, her coat torn to shreds beneath her. Toffee curls were matted over her face, covering the woman's features from view as a horrified Aldus stood there, unable to move, unable to speak.
Aldus would spend years overcoming the trauma of that night, stealing even more to survive alone. He would live in the shambles of the ruined cottage, not even bothering to repair the door to complete the illusion that it was abandoned. Years he would spend, pilfering mizas from the stores of merchants, courageous enough to only take copper and the very rare silver miza in order to not arouse suspicion. At 16, he had finally saved enough coin to begin a new life in a new city.
Looking back at the city of Sunberth, Aldus grinned, knowing he was to never return as he stepped onto the carriage to Syliras.
In the years that followed his move to Syliras, Aldus would become inspired. His nights were spent in local taverns, scouring the place for scores. But, soon after he arrived, he found a passion instead. Tales were spun each night in the tavern, crafted word by word and given life by the voice of captivating bards and storytellers, soft music evoking the wildest fantasies from the mind. He would learn by listening, eventually gathering a smattering of what it was to speak to others. But, it seemed... that it just wasn't enough.
Distraction. It was too potent, a mixture of both boredom and compulsion driving him to divert his attention from the local bards and towards the patrons, instead. He'd find a noteworthy mark, usually one flipping a miza in hand, or a person with a particularly broad grin plastered upon their expression and plan. He'd spend hours watching them, ordering a drink or two in his patience, and when the target was most vulnerable, he'd strike. Far larger than his previous upkeep, Aldus began, in his ambition, to seek out more dangerous targets. He'd end the night with a bounty of silver and even a gold miza or two in hand.
Despite his relapses into a life of thievery, Aldus was bitten. Crafting tales, slowly weaving words into reality, and all the while, still pilfering on the side (There's still a mouth to feed, after all...) it would become his passion. And by the age of 22, he found himself with resources enough for his pursuit to truly begin. He would continue to live in the tavern, conserving the small fortune he had amassed in the pursuit of tools that would assist in attaining his aspirations. |
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Aldus Beaumont 
by Aldus Beaumont on December 9th, 2013, 7:49 am 
