Turjin Falagar

Gender: Male



Age: 34



Race: Avianfolk



Nationality: King's Valley (Nomad)



Appearance:
    An aviankin akin to a tropical parrot, though the brightness of his colors and sheen of his fathers have begun to dull with age. Around his temples and along the top of his head the feathers have become especially thin and matte. He frequently dresses himself in crimsons, burgundies, and ivories that on a less color species might come off as flamboyant, but to his own sensibilities, rather plain and modest. The extra layers of clothing are often threadbare and in need of repair, as the old bird often treats it less like an expression of status, and instead as a suit of armor against the unclean surfaces of the world, making his compulsive preening an ironically dirty habit. Left hand clutches to a painted ebony black wooden cane, featuring the carved handle of a bird’s beak. A string is tied unceremoniously to the cane’s handle to his wrist, so that it might be comfortably never far from hand and rest freely when he requires both hands. Despite holding the cane in his left hand, it is clear his right leg is his weak leg, as his step often falters with the buckling of his right knee when in stride. The only part of him not worn ragged is his eyes, piercing, black, and full of excitable fervor for life itself, but even these rest behind quartz glasses pinched to his beak.



Personality:
    Turjin has lived long enough to become an individual with layers. Turjin is prudish, grumpy, and wears his emotions on his sleeve. Despite being open minded, even openly chiding others for being close minded, he himself leads an intentionally plain life. He eagerly tries to assist and help others, but is deeply embarrassed and apologetic when he needs help himself. He styles himself an arbiter and social academic, but is often introverted to the point of isolationist. He is deeply spiritual on a personal level, but iconoclastic to public displays of faith. While these things make perfect sense to himself, he often comes off as two-faced or deceptive, despite his best intentions.



History:
    Turjin was born to, and spent most of his life as, a nomad in an aviankin tribe that migrated from the mountain ranges in King’s Valley to Dragon’s Cradle, though most of their time was spent in the southern King’s Valley lands. Though Turjin described his tribe as “nomadic” many others might describe them as barbarians or gypsies, nationless either way. The nature and general purpose of his migration was a guarded secret, but to Turjin’s telling, it was of a shamanistic spiritual nature that is boring and superstitious to those not born into it. Smuggling, poaching, and other such “non-violent” crimes were not really appreciated as “criminal” by his kin, or himself.

    Turjin was largely content in this. He did not think the running, dodging, and harsh living off the land as any sort of adventure, but instead as mundane as dishwater. Things changed after he met an aviankin lady and accomplished a successful courtship with her. Her name was Klara, and she was a much more adventurous soul, a fact that deeply inspired Turjin, and the two “flew the coop” together to give city living a try. Turjin was keen on exercising his bird brain and found a natural talent for social academia. Klara found her satisfaction for adventure in numerous hobbies that could only be appreciated in domestic life removed from nomadic travels.

    For a decade, he spent his life with her, and the two lead a very traditional and simple life in King’s Valley. Though the two tried for children, they were never blessed with new life. Worse yet, Klara became ill, and after four years of decline, she finally passed. What little they had saved had been spent on Klara’s comfort and care, all while Turjin masked his own physical decline. However, his own physical person had suffered significantly. He had been afflicted with a nervous system disease that went untreated for too long, resulting in permanent irreparable damage. His daily life thereafter would be marked by tremors in his hands, weakness in his legs, and pain throughout his body. Turjin regarded it as an irony, as he was a teetotaler who had lived a completely clean life without any intrusive medications, yet had fallen ill to simple natural causes at a relatively young age.

    Despite Klara’s passing and his own suffering, Turjin took it in stride, resolving to live the best life he could, being useful to others, as it is what his departed wife would have wanted. So is his ambition, to be useful to others as best he can.