NAME:
Iorias (Pronounced Aye-Ore-Ee-as)

GENDER:
Male

AGE:
22 years

AFFILIATION:
Wanderer

RACE / SPECIES:
Centaur

ACCESSORIES/ITEMS:
Blue Cloth - Appears in every roleplay thread, typically wrapped around Iorias's human-half waist / the part where his halves collide
Black Cloth - Appears in every roleplay thread, always wrapped around Iorias's left eye
Spear - Appears in every roleplay thread, typically strapped to Iorias's (human) back
Satchel - Sometimes appears in roleplay, typically has cooked meat & canister of water inside and is wrapped around Iorias's human-half waist / the part where his halves collide

APPEARANCE:
[ref] Iorias's horse half is a light grey that fades in and out of white, and has very faint dappling - unlike in the ref - and is lanky but strong. His hooves are a dark brownish-black, a nice contrast to the general lightness of his appearance. His hair is a bright, light blonde and it carries over to both his tail and normal hair.
His skin is a light brown, and he has a light-blue length of cloth draped over the part where his human half meets his horse half. He's also got a black cloth covering his left eye, which is gouged out.

PERSONALITY:
Iorias is enthusiastic, bright and optimistic. He travels alone most of the time, though he enjoys company and dislikes being alone for long periods of time. He knows how to fight, but is a pacifist unless the creature is non-sentient. He's very capable when it comes to survival in the open wilderness, but is extremely uncomfortable in cities or even small towns and doesn't trust himself around so many people.

He's an omnivore, and prefers to eat meat and berries when he can but he's able to digest grass and other foliage perfectly fine; he simply hates the taste and will only do it in dire circumstances.

HISTORY:
Iorias was born in a small tribal village tucked away in a valley between three mountains. He grew up a protege of the next-in-line to be chief,
a strong stallion named Mityrus (Mit-te-russ) who was brash and strong and pushed his apprentice very hard. Iorias didn't mind though, and soon enough he was the most promising kid in the village.

On his sixteenth birthday, he officially became a man and no longer had to train with Mityrus; he still looked very much up to the next-in-line however, and did his best to prove his worth. A few weeks after his sixteenth birthday, he'd already gotten to be one of the most popular people in the village. Mityrus invited him to go hunting to celebrate, and they both left at dawn.

In mid afternoon they both stood in an open field; Iodias turned to Mityrus, confused as to why the expert hunter had led them to such a barren place when Mityrus grabbed his pike and stabbed Iodias in the eye. The stallion screamed and darted back, his hands covering his eye as blood poured from the wound.

Iodias grabbed his spear and took a defensive stance; they were too far away from the village for him to get help, he'd have to stand his ground against his former mentor.

"Why?" Iodias asked, his voice pained and scratchy.

"You're a threat to the village; the chief has been thinking of having you instead of me to be the second-in-line, as if a simple child could ever do my job better then me!" Mityrus sneered hatefully, stamping his hooves on the ground to emphasize.

"I thought- I thought you were my friend!" Iodias whimpered, his entire body shaking in fear and adrenaline. "You'd kill your apprentice just to keep a rank?"

"Yes." Mityrus said, before charging forward. Iodias didn't hesitate to turn tail and run as fast as his legs would take him; speed was his only advantage against Mityrus's rage. He ran across the fields, through the forests, up the slopes and through unknown mountain passes. He ran until it was evening, and he was so exhausted he could barely move.

He looked back, and Mityrus had already abandoned the hunt, apparently satisfied that he'd never come back. Iodias touched the spot where his eye had been before it'd gotten gouged out by Mityrus, and winced as pain shot through him; he'd never see out of that eye again, not even the healers back at his tribe could fix him.

Now.. What did he do? If he went back, he could reveal the traitorous Mityrus's deeds; he even had the proof in the form of his missing eye. Then they'd all drive that traitor out, and they could live in peace while that monster died in the mountains.

Plan made, he laid down and curled up on the ground. It'd be a long, cold night, but he'd survive. And if any tears leaked out of his good eye as he thought about what'd happened, nobody would know.

In the morning, he set off to his village. The trek was long and tiring, and hunger clawed at his stomach, but eventually he was approaching the small village of huts. Mityrus stepped out of the chief's home and stared at him, his eyes like fire. Mityrus was injured; wounds that looked like scratches and jabs that sunk deep.

"I have an announcement to make!" Iodias called out, and the other villagers - his friends, his family - stepped out of their homes and stopped what they were doing and cautiously approached. He could see the suspicion in their eyes; Mityrus must've spun some lie about him, but they wouldn't believe it after hearing the truth.

"Spit it out or get out, traitor." Mityrus spat as he grabbed his pike, still stained with blood, and held it tightly in his hands.

"Mityrus led me away with the promise of hunting; he brought me far from the village and tried to kill me, and stabbed out my eye with that pike." Iodias said, his voice booming over the village. Mityrus snorted in disbelief.

"You idiotic foal, you dare come here and try to turn my people against me? You attacked me, and I stabbed your eye out in self-defense! I have the wounds to prove it." Mityrus roared his lies, and some of the villagers nodded slowly as if they believed him.

"Then why doesn't my weapon have blood on it? If I attacked you, my spear would be covered in blood!" Iodias spat back, reaching around and pulling the spear off his back where it'd been strapped. The whispers between villagers grew, and a few even gasped.

"Don't believe this vulture, he could've easily cleaned off that spear before coming here; it proves nothing!" Mityrus shot back, and Iodias rolled his eyes.

"Test my tongue; I've not touched food or water since I left." Iodias said proudly, puffing out his chest. Mityrus glanced around at the villagers, who were already suspicious of him, and knew he could never win this battle. Mityrus was strong and ambitious, but he lacked the intelligence to win over the village.

With a roar, Mityrus charged at Iodias. Iodias let out a shriek and danced back while he tried to attack with his spear; Mityrus dodged every one of his blows and dove in to scratch him and jab him at every opportunity.

But for all of Mityrus's strength, his attack had proved his traitorous nature, and quickly the entire village was grabbing their weapons and joining in the fight and Mityrus was driven out, wounded and angry.

A hunting party was quickly put together to fully drive out the former second-in-line, though Iodias was not among them; starving, dehydrated and exhausted, he spent the rest of the day having his wounds tended to and regaining his strength.

In the morning the party arrived victorious; Mityrus was driven up into the mountains, and would have to make the trek over the mountain range to find a new place to live. Iodias was proud, but still sad that his former mentor had resorted to such horrible tactics to try to keep his role.

Many people called for Iodias to become the next second-in-line, but eventually a strong woman named Hepoth became the new second-in-line and Iodias was fine with that; Hepoth was strong and quick-witted, and he didn't really want that responsibility.

It was many years before Mityrus was heard from again; it began with people going missing, mainly children and women. They investigated, but no culprit was found and they didn't know what caused the disappearances. Stricter rules were put in place to make sure nobody went out alone, but it just meant bigger groups were disappearing.

Then, a small foal named Razis who'd been one of the first to go missing arrived, starved and half-feral. When they eventually could communicate again, they said that Mityrus had been kidnapping people to build his own tribe. He'd whip whoever tried to run or rebel, and they lived in constant fear of the mad ruler.

Iodias looked over his terrified tribe and felt his heart grow cold. They'd given Mityrus a chance to run, a chance to live and rebuild, but he'd squandered that chance on revenge. They had to take care of him so he'd never bother them again.

Hepoth rounded up the strongest fighters in the tribe and told Razis to bring them to Mityrus's camp. They'd subdue anybody who tried to defend Mityrus, but there'd be no killing anybody except Mityrus.

They set off, and the journey took them several days; Mityrus's camp was in a large cavern, tucked away in a hill surrounded by a giant forest. They finally found the camp after four days of traveling, and decided to make camp for the night before attacking. During the night, they were ambushed by Mityrus and his terrified army.

It was a bloodbath; people fell, killed by soldiers too terrified to not attack. Those who weren't killed were knocked out and tied up, another person to add to their army. Iodias fought fiercely, but eventually he was captured as well.

He woke up, bound and wounded, in a small cave with a bunch of slowly-waking people. Mityrus strode in, grinning and waving his pike.

"You all fought fiercely, but you too have fallen. I'll give you a choice; join me, or stay as slaves." Mityrus announced. Iodias stared up at him spitefully, and spit on his hoof.

"I'll never join you, vulture!" Iodias spat, his eye glittering with rage.

Mityrus's smirk turned into an angry snarl when he noticed Iodias. He kicked Iodias, and the stallion fell to the side. He let out a yelp as his shoulder hit the ground hard, and struggled in his bindings to stand up.

"No, Iodias. You'll never join me; but you'll serve as an excellent example." Mityrus said and grabbed Iodias's hair and yanked him up. Mityrus looked over the crowd of frightened people and roared out. "This filth has no right to serve me, even as a groveling slave. In the morning I'll hunt him like the pitiful fox he is." Mityrus roared before slamming Iodias's face into the ground.

The night was long and treacherous, but as the morning came along they still didn't have any way to escape. Mityrus arrived, flanked by strong stallions with visibly red, raw whip-marks on their backs and he dragged Iodias out into the forest.

"In good sport, I'll give you thirty seconds to run before we chase you." Mityrus said as he slashed through the bindings on Iodias's hands. "Boys, whichever of you brings me this fox's head will get a wonderful reward." Mityrus said right before cutting the ropes on Iodias's legs.

"Your seconds are ticking, little fox." Mityrus sneered, and Iodias jumped up and bolted. They all had spears - in Mityrus's case, a pike - and he had no weapons, so all he could hope for was reaching the village before they caught him.

Hunger dragged him down, and so did dehydration, but he couldn't stop moving for a moment. He could hear their footsteps behind him; following him, ready to kill him.

He charged on, and by the time the afternoon hit he could see the village; he was exhausted from bolting such a long trek, but he was in the home stretch. He only needed to get there, and then they'd ambush Mityrus and go save everybody.

"Invasion! Invasion!" He shrieked as he darted into the village, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He turned back to see Mityrus and his two followers still charging forward, not caring about the village of armed people grabbing their weapons and preparing to fight.

Then Iodias noticed them skidding to a stop to light torches. He grabbed a weapon and charged forward, knowing that if they got to the village they'd burn it to the ground without a care in the world for the villagers. He stabbed forward at Mityrus, who danced out of the way and waved his torch at him to force him back.

"You two go take care of the village, I can take this runt." Mityrus snorted, and the other two darted off. Iodias glared at him, his hands tightening around his spear as he faced down his former mentor.

They both lunged at the same time, and the resulting fight was like a dance; Iodias let go of his thoughts and focused on the fight. The village lit up behind them as they fought, and the winds whipped around them and carried the ashes around them like snow.

"What're you fighting for, boy? You've lost everything! Your home, your friends, your family; everything!" Mityrus cackled, and Iodias ground his teeth together and lunged forwards again to land another blow.

"You've taken everything from me, but you're still a blight on this world and you deserve this fate!" Iodias hissed, his voice low and emotional. Mityrus responded by laughing, and their dance continued until the moon started rising in the sky.

The village was burned down, so many people were dead, and Iodias let his rage blind him for a second and suddenly Mityrus was on the ground, a spear through his heart.

Iodias stared down at him; a villain, a monster, his mentor, the person who'd raised him.

He looked back at the village, burnt down; everybody was dead, there would be no rebuilding. Those back at the cavern would eventually free each other once they knew Mityrus wasn't coming back. They'd rebuild, even though they'd lost everything.

Iodias tried imagine himself in that; he could head the efforts, build a new village and watch over everything with kindness and compassion. But how could he, when Mityrus's betrayal was his fault? Could lives have been saved if he'd rolled over and allowed Mityrus to kill him?

He reached down and grabbed the black cloth Mityrus had wrapped around his chest, and tore a length from it. He covered his dead eye and took his spear.

And he did what he did best; he ran.