Irhal: A Profile

1. First Name: Irhal1

2. Last Name: N/A2

3. Age: 273

4. Gender: Male4

5. Species: Human5

6. Bodily Appearance: Stands over six feet tall, long brown hair, eyes green as tundra, beard, heavily muscled upper body, lean lower body.6

7. Origin: Born and raised in a tribe in the cold north, gone into the world to leave all he knew behind.7

8. Love Interest: Maeli8

9. Likes & Dislikes: Likes outdoors, hunting, Maeli. Dislikes drinking, cities, men hitting on Maeli.9

10: Virtues: Proud, strong morals, dependable and faithful.10

11. Vices: None11

12. Ambition/Desire: Settling down and having a family, again.12

13. Conflict: Love interest has no wish to settle. No place to settle either.13

14. Vocation/Calling: Warrior14

15. Additional Notes: None at this time.15

"Fruit." Irhal muttered, holding the melon in his hand. Maeli wanted fruit, and was too hung over to come into the market and get it herself. So Irhal stood there, surrounded by unfamiliar faces who only wanted his coin, trying to figure out which of the various melons was probably the ripest. He tapped one with his knuckle, a satisfying 'thunk' sounded out.16

"What do I know about fruit?" He sighed, setting the melon down.17

"Not much, I'd say." Came a voice from behind him. He turned to see one of the local women standing, smiling behind the silk scarf that covered her face. Her hair fell in dark waves down her shoulders, reflecting the sun brilliantly. "I am Laurena." She said, extending her hand.18

"Irhal." He grunted, his own hand engulfing hers. 19

"The stem of the melon is moist when it is fresh, and dry when it is not. The belly of the melon..." She said, lifting one up. "...should be creamy, that is when they are best."20

Irhal looked through the pile and found one that fit the description for the best melon, paying the gardener for it.21

"Now that I have helped you, you would help me?" Laurena asked, putting a hand on Irhal's arm and dragging it across slowly, her nails teasing him. Irhal's hair stood on end, the woman's touch was electric. Than an image of Maeli hungover and angry filled his mind and he shook off the touch.22

"I'm sorry, I'm spoken for." He said, turning.23

"By that drunken tart from the bar?" Laurena asked. "I saw you with her last night, she didn't look at you twice, let alone speak for you." She argued.24

"Than I speak for myself, as I would speak for her." Irhal said, turning and leaving the woman behind, unbelieving.25

http://storywrite.com/story/169890