Arlinn Juli-Teresa

## Overview

Arlinn is a young, part-human, part-drow member of the Blue Hoods. With an affinity for archery, stealth, and spellcasting, he made his way through the ranks starting from the bottom. During his time in the Blue Hoods, he was in a relationship with the late Galahad Pendragon, and later became involved with the retired Elren Stormwalker. Now, mourning the loss of his first love, and recovering from the toxicity of his second—he focuses on being the symbol of hope he desperately longs to provide for his guild mates. In a world full of shadows, there are always lights to cast them.

Arlinn has recently dealt with his fiance, and looks forward to fixing his homeland...after fixing his immediate family.

## Appearance

Arlinn is a 5ft 7, caramel colored young man. Vibrant, golden curls descend into brunette hairs on his head, and blue eyes compliment his youthful, freckled complexion. While his feet and hands still seem disproportionately large, his commitment to exercising has bulked up the rest of his body quite a bit. His newfound, lean muscle is complemented by his shirtless cloak, that, when activated, blends in with its surroundings. He wields his keepsake  ‘Sweet Repose’, a living magickal bow—as well as ‘Bright Blade’, his trusty rapier. With bright smiles and crimson facial expressions, many of his attempts at hiding his true feelings end up being in vain.

## Personality

Arlinn is a youthful, bashful young man with his heart on his sleeve. He’s prone to expressing his feelings openly, and being overly emotional at times. He has a strong, naive sense of purpose related to providing hope to others. He’d like to think that everyone can have a happy ending. His selflessness can sometimes lead him to putting his own health at risk for the sake of pleasing others. This overwhelming, optimistic idealism, coupled with his airheadedness, can get him into a lot of trouble. Easy to fluster, and easy to trick, Arlinn isn’t the smartest tool in the shed; but he cares about others, and he’d like to think of it as a strength rather than a flaw. That’s who he is, and that’s who he feels like he’s got to be. Bright and strong, like a star. He is insecure about his social and mental flaws, and about ‘burning out' like all stars do: but he’s confident that he can keep this up for a while. Everyone is counting on him, after all.

## Backstory

[Spoilers]

Underneath the vast deserts of Ku’Lam lies an expansive collection of underdarkian cities, and the nomads that venture between them belong to The Underdarkian Caravans. Unlike the city states above, all of the cities in the underground region are controlled by one Drow house. The house known as Vermeer.

Over 200 years ago, a civilization of humans searching for the water they desperately needed to survive, ventured below the surface to the land beneath them. A devastating war ensued between the Drow house and the humans, lasting decades. Both parties were on the brink of total annihilation by its end. For the first time, there became a need for male Drow by the hundreds. Both populations began to dry up, and it soon became clear that any further conflict would mean the meaningless eradication of both civilizations.

Eventually, a treaty was created: bound in the form of the Persephone contract. The leader of the Vermeer is entitled to a bride from the annual offspring of the human population, and when supplied with this, humans and drow are prohibited from racial conflict. With the newly forged treaty upheld, Drow and Humans began coexisting within the largest city of the region: Kha’Zix. As generations passed, Drow and humans unavoidably began to procreate with each other. Thus, the contract was rewritten to include all female offspring across the Underdarkian Caravans with even a drop of human blood as potential wives.

Before the Blue Hoods, before everything: Arlinn was once a young girl. One raised with the knowledge that since her conception, she had been chosen by the head of house Vermeer, Proli’Nikus, to be his bride. Throughout her life, she accepted this fate, resolving to travel on the caravans with her mother and father until the day came when Proli’Nikus’ current wife expired, and a replacement was required. Then, she met Trolli.

Trolli was a young man that made her feel like she could be her own person. Live her own life. Be who she wanted to be. He made her feel like even though her mother was sick, and even though she was fated to one day be nothing but a bride—she could be her true self until that day came.

Now, Trolli hadn’t anticipated that Arlinn’s version of being herself was an alter ego, but he was supportive nonetheless. By day, she was the reliable daughter that hunted faithfully for her family and the rest of the caravan...but by night, she was a mysterious cloaked man that used a bow to put a stop to the horrors of the underdark. That was who she wanted to be, and, as she grew: Trolli could see that this desire would only grow stronger.

Arlinn’s adult life began, and just like that, her mother and father passed away in quick succession. One to a disease, the other to a monstrosity. It was at this point that her female persona began to crack. The stress, coupled with losing the source of the expectations thrusted upon her was almost enough to break this ‘daytime’ version of herself; Himself. Then, it happened.

Proli’Nikus’ wife had an untimely demise that was never explained. At 21 years of age, she was removed from her caravan and brought to Kha’Zix. Without having ever seen her husband to be, the wedding date was decided. Yet again, she had resigned herself to this unfortunate life, with the sole solace that her self-sacrifice in going through with marriage would protect everyone she cared about. Just as things were at their bleakest, Trolli was there.

The night before the wedding, the man snuck into the castle, and together the two made their grand escape, guards hot on their trail. They ran, and ran, until they were cornered. Now; backs against The Great Serpent, they had two options. Return, or jump into the treacherous river behind them. Finally, in that moment, she took her fate into her own hands, choosing to die rather than let herself be a prize. She jumped off the ledge—falling just in time to see Trolli’s faithful form falling alongside her. The light sniffed out of her eyes as she crashed into the rushing waters, and she died.

When she awoke. No, when he awoke, something about him was very different. He was..paler..taller, his shoulders were broad. He was..male. Beside him was a young woman, sigils on her hands. Dead. His..saviour? Alone and soaking wet, with Trolli was nowhere to be found. The newly reborn young man buried the woman along the shore of the river and crawled out from the depths of the underdark to the surface above.

He hunted for pay across the deserts, traveled through forests, and ventured the high seas. A little over a year later, and at last, he finally made his way to Eleristrat and enrolled into the famous adventuring guild he had heard so much about during his time in Ku’Lam. The Blue Hoods. Happily ever after. At least, it was, until 6 months ago..

During a mission to the underdark, he made a massive oversight, and revealed his identity to a drow that ended up being a spy for the drow houses. Word travelled fast to Proli’Nikus, who arranged for a letter to be sent to the Blue Hoods under Arlinn’s name.

Now, Arlinn has a choice to make. Live a selfish life of freedom, or die a wife for the good of others.

## Letter from a Husband

[Spoilers]

“You’ve had your little adventure, my lovely wife. Now it is time to return home. Remember, you and your form belong to me, dearest. I can understand your apprehension, and, in fact: I have deeply enjoyed your resistance. However, the entertainment I derive from your antics is dwindling.

You have until the dawn of your date of birth to return to me; if you do not, you will bear sole responsibility for the deaths of not only your ‘caravan’, but of your entire race residing in Kha’Zix. Do not worry, dearest. We will reverse this unfortunate transformation of yours after the wedding ceremony.

The clock is ticking,

Proli’Nikus.”