24 Years OldRace:
250 PoundsPhysical Description:
Compared to his stout superiors, Mahmut is short and thin. Standing at six feet, seven inches, he is comparable in size to a very tall human. Weighing at 250 pounds, Mahmut has a well-developed and defined muscle structure -- the result of constant labor and sparring. Mahmut’s mane, not extending to his jaw despite age, is trimmed very short and given a wind-blown appearance. The Hayawani’s eyes, piercing in gaze, are a shade of olive green with a thick ring of black. Mahmut’s skin color is a grey-tan, similar to the fur of the lions of the Serengeti.
Wearing clothing to fit the climate, Mahmut wears loose clothing. Commonly he wears long, loose pants with a sarong, and a robe. Although sometimes kept down, around his neck, Mahmut wears a keffiyeh. Uncommonly, he wears cloth wraps around his feet or hands during cold nights or long treks. Possessions: Javelin:
Always carrying two, Mahmut utilizes these weapons for both hunting and fighting. Wrapped together, and slung around his shoulder, they can be easily accessed and thrown.Family Blade:
A weapon given by his mother, this greatsword is purported to have been passed along the male line of Mahmut’s family for several generations despite its foreign appearance. The weapon’s deadliness is only multiplied by its user.Machete:
Used to skin kills, chop wood, or for quick-draw combat.Cloth sack:
A small blanket, tied with leather, used to carry an assortment of supplies and precious stones.Shield:
Small in comparison to his size, Mahmut’s shield is one of the many items his tribe has bought when trading in Semerkhet. Made mostly from wood, save for an iron frame, this weapon is key to avoiding the sharp point of a sword.Powers or Strengths: Warrior-Trained:
Just as a gladiator is trained in the arena, Mahmut was raised by the warrior class of his tribe. He learned the basics of fighting and developed calluses on his hands.Versatile:
As a warrior, Mahmut learned to fight with an assortment of weapons ranging from clubs, to blades, and even his bare hands.Physically Fit:
In good physical condition, Mahmut is durable and agile.Fire Weaving:
When a source is in range, Mahmut can manipulate fire to an extent. By "pulling" the fire from its source, he can use the flame as a sort of whip. However, the size of the flame is dependant on its source: a candle's fire would be more stringy in comparison to campfire. Each fire source also has a stipulated length, with the fire's source gradually thinning the more it is stretched. Self-Sustainable:
Life as a nomad granted Mahmut the skills to survive the elements: how to create shelter, how to hunt, and how to prepare food.Weaknesses and Flaws: Fire Source:
Although Mahmut can control fire, a constant source is required; something that the Hayawani does not carry. The source also decides how strong and how far the fire can be used.Lack of Technique:
His strength and sparring practice are unquestionable factors, but his technique is; anyone experienced in proper sword play could easily outmatch Mahmut’s purely-offensive tactics.Kill-Virgin:
Mahmut has never knowingly killed another in combat. Despite his hunts for wild animals, Mahmut could hesitate on or refuse to perform an execution. Big Target:
Although fast and fairly agile, Mahmut is a tall individual with little form -- making it possible to hit him regardless of where you swing.Clueless:
Only knowing the desert, Mahmut is clueless to the world above -- making him susceptible to suggestion.Mage Apprentice:
Because he was never properly trained to use magic, his control over it is weak; if he were to allow his emotions to dictate his actions, he could cause adverse damage to himself and others.History:“It’s a boy!” the midwife spoke, holding up a crying child to the moonlight.
Mahmut was born on the coast, North-East of Semerkhet. His tribe, modernizing through their trade with the civilized world, allowed him to grow up with multicultural influences. Mahmut was the son of a Warrior, therefore placing him within that class. Unfortunately for him, however, Mahmut would not inherit his father’s size and strength.
Mahmut’s mother, a short hunter, passed much of her genes onto her son: compassion, humbleness, and knowledge. These traits, although good for a leader or hunter, did not fit a warrior. Growing up, Mahmut was injured more frequently than the other children.
---“What did I tell you before?” the mother said, checking a large wound from a child’s arm.
“But… elder says that ‘through blood and sweat, we earn our life’…”
“He’d send a hunter with a sickle in her head and a missing arm to fight a horde of Serengeti beasts… there,” the mother said, fixing her child’s wound, “now, I don’t want you doing any more fighting or hard work until this has healed. Understand me?”
The Hayawani grew up being beaten and bloodied. As is the way of the warrior, children were instructed to fight against each other until they came to an age where they could fight the adults. The child had lost all his baby teeth before they were ready. By twelve years old, Mahmut was swinging a club against his father… futilely.
His mother sheltered the child from the more excruciating lifestyle set before him; nurturing even the most minor of wounds. She forbade him to continue fighting and working, even when other kids were in the same condition. Perhaps it saved him in the long run, however, while other children grew tall as their respective fathers, Mahmut sat a few inches smaller. Despite his size, Mahmut proved a worthy opponent; his agility making up for his loss of power.
One day, caring for a large gash he received on his side, the young Hayawani was approached by an older hunter of the tribe. He took the child beyond home, to a small campfire. Noticing Mahmut’s lack of power, the hunter offered him a rare but dangerous proposition: learn the ways of a fire mage. The hunter confided in Mahmut that he had not bore a child since he learned the magic as a young Hayawani, and that others were suspecting him.
The hunter had learned the magic from another who was, ironically, in his current position. He offered to teach Mahmut, before he ran off to Semerkhet; to start a new life. Although worried, at first, Mahmut agreed and learned a few of the basics.
---She gave Mahmut a worried stare; indeed, she was fairly old… but not old enough to be unable to have children…
“Mahmut… have you ever suffered any injuries to your-”
“No!” he responded, interrupting her mid-sentence.
“Three months, and nothing… I‘m not that old, am I?”
Just as infertility plagued the hunter, its effects started on Mahmut. Two years, after the hunter had left, each of Mahmut’s pairing would fail to produce a child. Where, at first, it was an older woman and, the second time through, it was a woman near his age. The elders were suspicious, but disregarded it as bad luck.
---”Mahmut… your father wanted you to have this. Take it, and carry the spirit of you people.”
At twenty-four years of age, Mahmut’s secrecy was finally blown but in the luckiest of ways. In the middle of the night, the tribe’s camp was attacked by raiders. The sheer surprise of the attack cost the lives of many good warriors and hunters. With his weapons out of reach, Mahmut tapped into what magic he learned and used the camp’s firepit as a source.
Although wild and ferocious, Mahmut managed to keep a good enough handle on his magic to drive the raiders off… unfortunately, the damage was done. Not only was he to be judged by the elder, but his father and many friends were dead. Despite his quick thinking, and his success in saving the tribe, Mahmut broke a rule set down two-thousand years earlier: Fire Magic is forbidden.
Spared death, Mahmut was granted exile and given enough supplies to help him survive including weapons, food, flint and steel, and precious stones to barter with. Before he left, his mother gave Mahmut his father’s weapon; a greatsword which had been passed down through generations of his family. With a last goodbye, Mahmut took a camel across the desert… his destination, Semerkhet.