Tasyr Hin'mor

Name: Tasyr Hin'mor
Main Character or Side Character: Main
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Profession: Homeless thief/shaman in training
Physical Description: Tasyr is 5‘7“. His body type would be described as long and thin, while still appearing small in stature overall. He has tan/brownish skin. His hair is black, a little past his shoulders, and is usually messy. His eyes are a penetratingly bright green, a color that usually catches people off guard.
Three Words That Sum Up This Character: Creative, Determined, Torn (Morally)

Backstory:
	Tasyr is the son of two poor commoners, Tascha and Uskund. His father was an abusive drunk who abandoned Tascha and Tasyr shortly after his son’s birth. Tascha tried her best to raise her son well, but she simply didn’t have the means to do so. She had already been struggling prior to his birth, and the extra cost of feeding a child combined with the departure of Uskund from her life dragged her down below even the poorest of families. This resulted in both Tascha and Tasyr going without food or shelter most nights.

	As he grew older, Tasyr learned the art of thievery. He would take food from the local merchants to help feed his small but destitute family. His mother hated seeing him steal, as she knew the punishment for getting caught, but she knew they didn’t have any other choice.

	One year, a deadly disease swept across the city. Most of the affected were able to recover due to medicinal cures provided by the local healers. However, having virtually no money to their name, Tasyr and his mother couldn’t afford the medicine. As such, Tascha contracting the disease was a death sentence, and they both knew it. Tasyr tried to steal medicine for his dying mother, but after nearly being caught twice, he had no choice but to give up. As he sat with her in her final moments, her head in his lap, he began to curse the gods. How dare they make his mother suffer so? She had done nothing but good in her life, and yet here she laid, dying from a disease she could have cured had she only had the money. Tascha did not feel bitter though. Taking her son’s hand with what little strength she had left, she looked him in the eyes and said, “My son, do not grow angry with the gods. We all have our place in this world. Mine was to create you. My purpose has been fulfilled, and now it is my time to go. You must do one thing for me, Tasyr. Do not throw your life away. You can do more with your life, I know it. Promise me that. Promise me...” With those words, Tascha passed away.

	Tasyr did not cry very often. Years of life on the streets had made him calloused to many things. The death of his mother was enough to break him though. Tears streamed down his face as he held Tascha in his arms. He whispered softly through his cries, “I will mother... I promise...”

	His mother’s commitment to the gods inspired Tasyr. He realized he needed to learn more about them. He decided that would be his purpose. However, he did not want to simply become a priest. He had heard tales of shamans as a boy, stories of powerful men and women with mystical abilities. Many dismissed these tales as mere myths and legends, but Tasyr was not so quick to give up on them. He set out in search of someone to teach him the old ways, determined to make his mother proud.

Other:
* His current clothes are made from old cloth sacks. They are tattered and worn.
* He tends to have trust issues, and as such it is hard for him to make friends. However, once you get past that initial barrier, he is very loyal and kind.
* He is relatively good with a dagger and hand to hand combat, having had to fight off other street dwellers throughout his life.

http://i.imgur.com/2KkuB.png