Name: Trent Falkner
Born: 14,472 VE (31 yrs)
Place of Birth: Itas
Height: 6 ft even
Weight: 230 lbs
Occupation: Lieutenant in the Itasean Provisional Army
Background: Veteran, partisan
Magical Aptitude: High
Notable Features: Missing left eye, large throat scar
Likes: Nature, birds, heights, art, cultural preservation, reading
Dislikes: The Vaalbaran Empire and its apologists
War is the only thing Tuo has ever known. From the ruthless annexation of his homeland in childhood, to his youth dedicated to a doomed uprising, his years have been spent under the boot of a cruel master. It taught him anger and vengence, above all else. The week-long war of his childhood took his father, for better and for worse, and what was left of his mother was hardly a caretaker. The young Trent was never afforded the chance to be a kid, between learning to keep his head down under the new regime and struggling to raise his baby brother in the shards of a shattered family.
Magic was an escape for the boy. Perhaps he simply imagined himself flying away often enough that it finally came true. Perhaps it was just an innate arcane agility poured into the right vessel. Regardless of the cause, Tuo found himself flying without wings. As a boy, he would leap up onto the rooftops to hide away from the world, and up there he would find his kin. He would grow up rubbing elbows with those of a similar acrobatic talent, and they would lead him to the doorstep of a group of partisans calling themselves the Evergreen Coalition, a band of battlemages who sought a solution to the occupation question.
The Winter Rising was a failure. It had come much too soon, and so was doomed to die in the cradle. But Tuo held out as long as he could, huddled in the canopy of the great jado trees until he and his brothers were convinced to stand down by their doomed superiors. He spent all of a year in a prison camp before being released back into the general population to fill in the labor gaps. It was then that he was forced to keep his head down, to live a facimile of a normal life. There would be a house, a husband, a job on the factory line. But this was merely the Trent that who existed on paper.
The reality of the matter is that Tuo never gave up hope. He would live to see an independant Itas, or he would die for the cause. And so, Tuo entered his third war fearlessly. Thirty and more years of preparation would mean it was his last, one way or another. With the wretched Empire stretched thin by a war on three fronts, a man like Tuo was a hot knife in the neck of a dying beast. The liberation of Itas was all but inevitable at that point. But what happens to a warrior when there are no more wars to be fought? Who will Tuo be when his life's purpose is answered?