"The world is a fun and mysterious place."
A life full of curiosity and wonderment is Soren's. Thoroughly intrigued by even the slightest mystery, Soren spends much of their time traveling across the land, learning about those that they meet along the way.
Their history is something of a peculiar one. Their home is a bygone relic, and their own life is unending. Long ago, they sought adventure with their own companions, carrying themselves wide and far and finding countless trials and tribulations. In this time, Soren's companions took on the roles of leaders within their own kingdom, and they faithfully served as a diplomat and emissary. Through the combined faith of their companions and the people of their new home, they were revered as that of a minor deity - granting Soren a status of which they had never desired, but took happily for their people.
Those days of reverence are long over though, and those that they served have left them behind in the afterlife. They watched as the kingdom fell into decline as war ravaged the continent, and eventually, destroyed the land which they had grown so fond.
Soren still retains their deific powers, living in immortality and possessing magicks of unparalleled strength. Even so, they are far more content with the mundane day to day happenings of life, playing their faithful accordion and spinning tales of ancient heroes and deeds.
Even if theirs is merely history, it is their story to tell - forever.
Feel free to draw Soren! Please do not include them in NSFW or risque artwork without consulting me.
Minstrel, Minor Deity
For all that has transpired in Soren's life, his beginnings were humble - a young boy born in a lodge bordering the Silver Forests and one of many trade roads. His mother and father were nothing short of caring for their son - a Kitsune woman and a Half-Elven Man. They were a jovial family, for both his parents were entertainers of some sort, although his father hunted and foraged while his mother served as a sort of travelling ambassador for her original home within the forest.
As Soren grew older, he found interest in all things that his parents did - regardless of if he was suited for it or otherwise. From his father, the art of archery came seemingly naturally, the thrum of the bow string a serenade to follow the whistling of fletching through the air. It was its own sort of music to Soren's ears - much different than the music that he thusly learned from his father with the accordion, something many would come to recognize him for.
With his mother, he found his voice - a soft, melodic voice that came from the heart and soul to coalesce into the arcane. He was not a studied scholar that weaved arithmetic into the material, nor did he have the blood of his ancestors to serve as a conduit - instead it was spoken into existence, drawing from his own will to see it through. If only he had such powers when it came to his mother's favorite hobby of dancing.
Freshly Cut Grass, Earth
Twirling their hair