![[Approved by Avalon]](.//images/icons/cs_ok.png "[Approved by Avalon]"){kind=icon}
Parlance
Race: Ithecal (Wyvarnth)
Date of Birth: 23rd of Vhalar 683
Languages Spoken:
Fluent = Common
Broken = Vahanic.
Appearance
Scale Color: Silver/gray.
Eye Color: Red
Height: 6'4"
Build: Lithe
Persona
Religion: Palenon/Ilaren Marked
Likes: Strong alcohol, fighting, bar noise.
Dislikes: Boredom, silence, slavery.
City of Birth: Quacia
Citizenship: Rharne
History
Parlance was once known as Sulphur Claw in his native Quacia. He was raised from an egg to be a slave in the mines of that city-state. After a series of conflagrations, starting with the War with the Creep, and culminating in the royal reforms brought about by Faith and Padraig Augustin's involvement in the awakening of Deabrutoa, he was among those Ithecal slaves that earned their freedom under the auspices of Stone Talon.
From there, he decided there was little left fighting for in Quacia, and so departed along with the rest of the refugees who decided to depart after the city's Quarantine ended and Emigration was opened. He set sail, working aboard a merchant freighter. There he was exposed to a mix of people, from all different backgrounds. He was impressed by what he heard of Ilaren, and when the time came for them to land in Rharne proper, he made it his last stop. He used what coin he earned during his time on the merchant freighter to buy himself a house in Little Ivorian, where the welcome was far more amenable to him than others.
He stayed in the city for a season, and in that time met Ilaren herself at the Chapel, where he prayed loudly for a new name. He belted out stories of ignomy and glory, of his kin in the slave pits of Quacia. He shouted these stories at an elevated volume. Oddly enough, during this ruckus, he was not disturbed by the Thunder Priestesses. It wasn't entirely unusual for worshippers of the Immortal of Sound to make loud prayers, afterall. He propped up a cask of bourbon on the altar, and poured a cup for himself, and then one for Ilaren. Knowing of that strange custom from a Yaralon mariner he'd met during his travels.
He continued carrying on, shouting his prayer and drinking profusely, until at last Ilaren herself appeared before him, and granted him a new name.
From then on, he was known as Parlance, and pledged himself to become a travelling monk in her service, bringing revelry where it was lacking. In return for his promised service and her impression of him on that day, she granted him her mark, to grow in her favor.
Palenon Story