Physical Description

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Thin face with gaunt cheeks. Face has a good deal of stubble. Right eye is light amber and left eye is a light blue. Hair is a light blonde and cropped short around sides and back with the front top portion being short and halfway back, lengthening into a small ponytail. Skin is quite tan from a lot of sun exposure. Has lightning like scars starting from his finger tips and extending halfway up his forearms. Attire is not usually very clean due to demands of the job. Carries baubles around his waist on a belt, most notably a spherical egg item with golden chains hanging from it along with a spell book hanging from a leather strap.

Speech

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Soft English lilt. Tends to speak softly.

Mental & Emotional

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He is known to the Varden as a spellcaster of average talent but his recent practises with a friend outside the Varden have improved his skill. This has boosted his mental health massively as he no longer feels like a waste of space in the army. He still struggles with insecurity however and tries twice as hard as anyone else in his position.

Beliefs

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Believes, like most in Alagaësia, that there are Gods. He's unsure if they care but knows they are there. He does not pray.

Daily Life/Health

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He has suffered from heart palpitations from birth and when introduced to very stressful situations, he can feel lightheaded or possibly pass out. This does not usually occur in battle funnily enough as his heart remains "focused" due to training." It is more likely to occur in normal stressful situations like grave news of a loved one dying or the profession of love from an admirer.

Powers/Abilities

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Thanks to his more focused training as of late, he's improved significantly on his ability in the Ancient Language and spellcasting. He knows many unique spells and tricks thanks to his teacher and can definitley stand his ground in battle better than ever before.

Background/Story

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Born in a small town close to Du Weldenvarden, he grew up entranced by the ideas of elves and beautiful magic that could make trees long rotten, spring to life, fire blaze forth from shadow and being able to unlock one's thoughts as easy as turning the key on an old hidden chest. Carn was, like most, a farmer's child but one who was far less useful. He seemingly had no skills, neither of the mind nor of the body. Being the only child of his parents, he was a grave disappointment and they rarely held back from saying so. His mother was unable to give birth again after him as she barely survived her first pregnancy. He was never struck but their choice words would echo throughout his life, shaping who he was. Carn wasn't one to quit however, still toiling in the fields long after his body was spent. This did harbor some admiration from his father but in the end, it didn't matter. His son, his only child, was unable to help in any way that mattered.

Carn would spend his time daydreaming of the magical unknown. This was dismissed by his parents as fantasy. Spellcasting was not widely accepted and was not used commonly in small villages; people only really believing in what they saw. However, Carn's heart told him otherwise, whether the "proof" from passing merchant's tales was real to him or this was the only chance to be something in life, he couldn't say. When he was just fifteen years old, he left his small town to travel to larger cities, hoping to find a teacher of the magical arts. Carn's parents gave their blessings but told him he'd fail. They could just hope he'd find something in his travels that would help them and him as life went on. They did not expect him to return.

Though the road was hard, he found help in a passing entertainment caravan and stayed with them as they traveled city to city. Carn was with them for quite a few years, into his mid twenties. He helped with anything he could to earn his place among them and he was accepted. On one of their travels into more populated areas, he first heard of the Varden and his first real hint at real news of real spellcasters. Finding them wasn't difficult as many soldiers talked about how to join their ranks. Once he arrived, he was turned away because he was too weak to be a soldier and their magic users did not have the time nor energy to take on a student. After leaving heartbroken, he poured over his miseries at a tavern in Teirm. An older man overheard his complaints and took him aside, offering him the little knowledge he had in the arts. Carn accepted immediatley. Thanks to this man that called himself Baryd, Carn learned how to levitate small objects and start fires with just a word. During his stay in this seaside city, the Varden was becoming increasingly desperate. After a year of extreme effort put in, Carn showed up to the Varden yet again. He showed what little knowledge he had and asked again, stating that if they turned him away, he'd just come back.

They accepted him due to desperation and put him under the tutelage of a senior member of the Du Vrangr Gata. His time learning with him was horrible as the man hated him. However, Carn was used to being hated and only tried that much harder. He trained under him into his early 30's until the man was killed. By that time, Carn could pull his own weight enough not to be completely left behind. He continued on with the Varden until the rise of Eragon Shadeslayer, into Roran Stronghammer's debut and Nasuada's crowning. Becoming close to Roran gave him happiness he didn't think possible and in the end, died happily in the battle of Surda. Though magic lost its beauty on the battlefield, he was at peace with his accomplishments.

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He awoke on a prairie knoll several miles from the Varden, surrounded by deep feathered crows. Awoken from the abyss no one returns from, his arms were laced with ligtning like scars. Upon finding their encampment, he was welcomed back, having heard of others making this forbidden return as well. The King was dead and they had won. Carn slipped back into the duties of protecting the people as that job would never be done. He struggled with a new connection to the dead, able to hear their passing and feel like it was happening to him; to feel the bodies of long forgotten warriors covered by decades of earth. This tore at his soul for a year until one of the new Dragon Riders offered to help him with his unique issue. This man was named Lashul and his dragon, Rah. The elf with blood red hair was unique in every aspect of his being and both found friendship in lonely hearts. Carn was kind to him, something Lashul had not been accustomed to as he was born half shade, son of Durza. The kindness was returned. With practise, Carn gained gradual control over his ability and while he was with him, helped hone the other talents he already posessed.

A year passed before he returned, more confident, better suited for his own talents. He asked to be assigned to Stronghammer's battalion and was granted this request. Carn continues in his pursuit of greater knowledge and hopes to find happiness along the journey.

Trivia

• The scars leading up his forearms are from the spell sent out shortly before his death. If he was not killed by the enemy, it is likely he would have perished from his own spell because his body would not be able to handle the lack of energy he was going to be left with.
• He carries a book with him where he has written down his studies of the Ancient language and spell usage. He looks back over it in his freetime, adding more as he learns to better himself. This is his most important item and he studies it religiously before battle.
• Before Roran, Carn did not believe people like him could exist. Most people he met were not actually good of heart or at least *he* wasn't in the tables for any form of love or admiration, or even kindness. Roran made him feel like he was a human being worthy of these things and so, he basically worships him. He is his entire world and everything beyond it.

Stats

Personality

Introspective, quiet, reserved. He initiates conversation with those he knows well or is very close to and that list is quite short. Carn tries twice as hard as everyone else to meet the average needed and is always willing to give of himself wholly for anything good of heart and noble. It is obvious without deep inspection, he holds a deep seated insecurity and has had to fight tooth and nail for his station in life. Yet he is not competitive with others in his position as he only wishes to do his job and be apart of something greater than himself and the small town he was born in.

The real end of the world is the destruction of the human spirit; the other kind depends on the insignificant attempt to see whether after such a destruction the world can go on. - Karl Kraus