Name: Azhad Alhazred
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance:
Main Skill: Berserker. Azhad is seen by outsiders as a man of pleasure. He is, yes, but woe unto anyone who mistakes that love of fine things for something that brings weakness. He fights intoxicated, mind sharpened and pain dulled. His style is fluid and very technical, and those who've truly seen him fight describe his movements as being similar to dancing. Some have even described it as beautiful to behold. This is intentional on Azhad's part, as he is loathe to fight unless it benefits him in some way. Besides, he's always had an appreciation of majesty. Gold jewelry glinting in desert sunlight, trails of crimson silk whirling in the wind, the flashing gleam of a heavy scimitar, the fine spray of blood, the ring of clashing blades, it's all as wonderful to him as the finest of material pleasures. That sword of his can cleave through the neck of a pack animal with ease, and most shouldn't even be capable of wielding it with one hand, and
certainly not capable of wielding as skillfully as he does. Though he doesn't use any dedicated armor (none of his tribe do), he's actually fairly well-protected. The many layers of fine silk and jewelry he wears do an excellent job of protecting him from arrows and knives, the two greatest threats he's likely to face back home. They're also red, which in addition to looking rather refined(in his opinion), also do an excellent job of concealing bloodstains. Those unaccustomed to the ornate clothing of a Trazbiri merchant tend to find the constant movement of fabric and shining jewelry to be a distraction, making it difficult to follow movements and predict strikes. This suits Azhad just fine, because with his blade and his skill, one strike is all it should take.
Secondary Skill(s): Pyromancy. What cannot be solved with a blade can be solved through fire. Azhad took to the art of firecrafting remarkably well, displaying an uncharacteristic level of finesse rarely seen in pyromancers. While mostly a result of his own skill, it's also rooted in his culture. The sandstorms of the Trazbir are fearsome and the winds they send howling across the dunes can stymie even the most dragon-like flames. The pyromancers of his tribe, being the most numerous after the hydromancers (water is precious, water in a desert more precious still), took a more ceremonial route. While still capable of creating infernos and great pillars of flame, they focused on the incredible versatility that pyromancy can offer. Azhad embraced the philosophy fully, even inventing some spells of his own. He uses magic for mundane uses as much as he does fantastic ones, and quite comfortably.
Personality: Azhad loves the finer things. He won't settle for anything less that absolute luxury, and is very good at getting what he wants and needs. A merchant to his core, Azhad has a mind sharper than any blade and a tongue to match. His book collection is one of the largest in the area, and he's extremely well-educated. It's a rare moment for him to be caught off-guard, even at his most relaxed. That's useful to him, because he spends a lot of time doing exactly that. If someone wasn't aware of the unrelenting cut-throat
insanity of his trade, they might even call him lazy. He can be found lounging on cushions, smoking bizarre things out of ornate hookahs, listening to music and usually enjoying the company of at least one woman (or man). His expression never shifts from one of placid contentment, and his voice, while heavily accented and marking him as a Trazbiri nomad, always sounds friendly. He's not lazy, however, far from it. His enemies can say all they want about him, but they won't ever say it's a good idea to try and encroach upon anything he's involved with. He only seems lazy until he gets up and slaughters everyone in the room. He's still from Zalaju, after all, and he didn't get this far by being a fool.
He keeps to the smaller gods. Nukhu and Kaonji receive the most worship from him, for obvious reasons, but he also keeps shrines to Josina, Daynonia, Celthwe, and Azmadine.
Backstory: Azhad wasn't always staggeringly wealthy. His origins are quite humble and in his opinion, irrelevant. Being the son of a water trader is nothing to be ashamed of, but Azhad cares for the present and the future. How he got to his position , however, is worthy of explanation.
It took years to get where he is now. It started with a sack of copper coins and a rusty dagger, and Azhad clawed his way to the top through violence and guile. The Lemnon Cartels found their ships burning in the docks, Shimiti pirates found themselves bought off and directed by an anonymous donor, troll bandits were found headless and burned, markets were destroyed and rebuilt to suit some unknown purpose, and dozens found themselves working for that bizarre man in red, sometimes in chains. Azhad built an empire in the shadows, fueled by gold and greased by blood. His word is law in most parts of Zalaju, and those who don't heed it simply disappear. It's not well-known or even respected outside of his territory, but that doesn't mean it shouldn't be feared. He's not giving it up, either. It doesn't matter what's going to happen, he'll see it all burn before he loses a single piece of gold.