The Scions of Amber
Soren stands tall, with light blonde hair framing a strong-jawed face and pale blue eyes. He wears a heavy, spiked mace at his side, and a steeled kite shield hangs upon his back, inlaid with a crimson lion rampant.
He hails from Exür.
From a young age, Soren had been dragged through shadow by his father Dalt, following the trails blazed during the raids on the holdings of Amber by Deela. Trained by a series of weaponmasters, he quickly proved himself in both leadership and swordsmanship. Soren, however, wanted no part in his father’s troubled history with the line of Amber.
On his twentieth birthday, Dalt led his son on the long, history-laden path to the Golden City. For days, the two rode arduously and hastily through the more difficult routes through Arden, attempting to slip through any resistance without drawing undue attention. Stopping at the steps of Fiaella-bionin. The two made their way through city, palace, and passages to the fabled Pattern.
Blue sparks, hot sweat, and strained muscles awaited, and, finally, Soren stepped forth into the center. The world flashed, and, as his vision cleared, and clouds lay at his feet. Peering down, Soren fell to his knees and raised his eyes to the slowly-stirring emerald reeds and heavy, golden sun, hanging above a crimson-streaked argentine horizon. Wading into the cool water, scattering the clouds with his scuffed boots, Soren pulled a barbed mace from the crystal pool and knelt, resting for a time.
The years to come passed quickly, as Soren sought out to blaze his own trail through Shadow, leaving conquered peoples and broken worlds in his wake, straying far from the haunts, and sins, of his father.
Years later, while visiting his father, Soren fell for a young desacratrix by the name of Sophia, whose ancestors, she claimed, had emigrated from Chaos in the time of Dalt’s crusades. Passionate months flew by, with Soren spending late nights under a silver moon practicing the foreign art of shifting his own form at will. All things must end, however, in Shadow. Soon enough, the ardor faded, and Soren slipped away in the early dawn, before even the melancholic songs of the midnight jays.
Wanderlust haunting him at every turn, Soren finds himself unable to tarry long. Continuing his journey for something greater, he sallies forth to seek out his destiny in infinite shadow.