Arlon was born in a loving home, bounced on his mother’s knees as a young child watching his older siblings play by the fire place- or at least he imagined. The young bearding truly had no idea what the circumstances of his birth were, having always survived on the handouts of strangers who took pity on the orphaned forest dwarf. A young’s himself, he has never truly know what his brethren have- let alone really interacted them to begin with. Always an outcast Arlon has wondered the lands of Areas searching for the one true thing he desires- a home to fill with memories and family. Having plenty time of time for himself amongst nature, the bearding has developed a particular fondness for indepenence and reading- yet has always struggled with being alone. Perhaps it is because his loneliness is forced upon him, and not a voluntary measure. Throughout his short 24 years in the world though, he has only briefly known companions- mostly the odd Good Samaritan who takes more pity than kindness on him. It hasn’t been all doom and gloom for the young lad though, he has been able to learn of his ethnicity. The fact that he was a forest Dwarf gave Arlon purpose in life, and learning of Anbella gave him faith in the world that even the ones starting from nothing could have someone to understand them. To understand their life and to cherish them in the same way he would cherish them, to build a life and build a family amongst the pines. Delicious succulent smoked sandwiches cooking above the hearth, and young beardlings running amongst the cushioned furniture. A day dream, and a hope- for hope was all Arlon had left in life.
Hope is a strong guide in life though, and the Under-Kingdom of Urguan represented that hope for Arlon. He had heard of what may have been his homeland from a fellow dwarf- one who appeared to be a veteran from the current war. Forgetting to ask his name- for social skills are hard to build when one has few friends, Arlon knew he needed a home. Knew he needed a place to build something rather than just drifting through life. He had a mission, a driving force in his life. Hope, it shown brighter than ever before.
(I’ve spent a few days reading the lore for the Dwarf race and the general server, but didn’t really know how to include more than that in my backstory. Sorry if this wasn’t enough, but I’m more than willing to add more!)
Gazing around at the pieces of scenery, Arlon’s eyes begin to glaze over before he even registers what the man has said. Aware that the man may be staring at the young Dwarf as if he had brain damage, Arlon desperate tries to recall what was said to him, before hoping he had it right.
“Aye it is a loveleh city, ah could name picture a better one meself. Ah’m just traveling’ actually, never really had a home and just wanted to see if anyone would let me listen to their stories. Ah really dunnae wish to be a bother though, its just those food stands, smell so good.”
Only later would Arlon realize that once again he had overshared and let the greeter see past his mask and glimpse the deep loneliness inside. In the moment however, he was far too aware of his own grumbling stomach and could feel the weight of the three mina in his pocket- donated by a passerby who took pity on the hungry bearding. Arlon didn’t mind the pity, for it kept him alive and occasionally gave him interaction with others. It wasn’t truly what he desired though, and his eagerness to have real companions to talk and listen to often would spill over onto people likely only being polite- such as this poor greeter in question.
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