Çelik Hadi Azar

Should you ever find yourself in a shanty pub or unruly part of town in B'hărăbû it is advice that you look out for any man who may be looking to stab your back and steal your coin. Especially if such a man as Çelik Azar is in your wake. The man is a living example of a sad and cautionary tale of what can happen to a good man swept into a cut throat world. Once a simple farmer boy longing for high sea adventures, now a ruthless mercenary who makes his living off of murder and harassment. His kind is nothing new, but tragic nevertheless.

Çelik grew up in Ñabivtzi near ZàÞça with his family of farmers. Throughout his childhood and early into his adulthood he endured the harvest during any and all conditions. His family didn't make him go through a Coming of Age Trial as his time in the fields during various harsh conditions was more then enough. His mother, Alia Azar became crippled when he was young, and he along with his father, Mika'la older brother, Hyzmá, and younger brother Tilanè, took care of her as well as the farm. His life was a humble yet rewarding one as their diligent harvest provided the family well and where often at the forefront of some of the best farmers in Nabivizi. However for Çelik, this life was starting to take a toll on him. He was entering an adult stage in his life and was having second thoughts about where he was. Threatened with a life of just harvesting crops until he dies, he focused his eyes off the cliff sides, into the vast unknown ocean. The thought of seeing lands that only existed to him in stories, discovering new places, and finding hidden treasures all made Çelik sick with a passion to spread his roots and explore. The life of a Pirate, that's what he wanted.

But his father would not put up with such dull thoughts. He had a responsibility. His mother needed everyone's help and the crops would not make it out as good without him. For a while longer he put up with it. Knowing the right thing to do would be to honor his father's words and stay with the farm. But everyday the passion grew and grew. Grew to the point where responsibilities meant nothing in the face of a dream.

His family awoke one morning, finding not Çelik, but a note that simply read, "I have to go. Maybe I will return and make you proud. Maybe I wont. I love you all."

And with that, his responsibilities where abandoned and he was already on the sea heading to new land. The aspiring young lad stowed away on a merchant ship heading for B'hărăbû. He had heard some nasty things about the place but he knew pirates would be there, and that people tend to over exaggerated. The ship sailed for a few days with Çelik stealing zlytnoki and bread when no one was looking to get by. Finally the ship docked at B'hărăbû, and Çelik was ready to pursue his dream. But what Çelik found was no high sea adventure.

There were no pirates. At least none that were interested in him. He thought he could just wash up on shore and hop on a boat with the nearest pirates, but the boy didn't so much as have a sword at his side. They would do nothing but call him a "Pretty Boy" and point him to the nearest male brothel. Çelik still pushed forward though, determined to make his dream come true. But time passed, and there was no boat waiting for him at the docks. Everyday he would sit by the docks, harassing any one that looked like a pirate, begging to go along with them. The more he was turned away the more desperate he became. He had little money to himself, and he had to sleep outside in whatever secluded ally he could find, and this eventually got him robbed of everything but the Kurta on his back. For several Tam'nýer—a' weeks he started to become the local punching bag. He would be beat down by a group of men on his way to the docks, and constantly harassed as he waited for something to save him. Çelik was too weak and not raised into fighting to be able to do anything about this. During this time he became susceptible to being a part of the Pirates slave trade, but manage to narrowly avoid them by constantly hiding and staying further and further away from the docks each passing day. Had it not been for a thin stroke of luck he for sure would have been taken away. The only good thing to come out of it was the men that beat him would often feed him because they found him too entertaining to die.

Then one day he had enough. He had hoped maybe one day they would leave him alone. Violence and confrontation were not in his blood. Anger and wrath did not define him. But when he saw those men walking to him for what must have been the hundredth time he could not help but lash out in a fit of emotions. Tears expelled from his eyes from a mixture of heartfelt rage and gripping sadness in his heart. Tears expelled the last remnants of the innocent young man chasing a dream. A piece of broken glass that littered the streets made its way into Çelik's hand, and into his abusers chest. The glass broke his Çelik's skin, bleeding with the man he had just killed. His abuser slumped to the ground devoid of life, and those who once haunted him ran away. Look down at his hands, Çelik could not tell what blood was his own. Quickly, he ran too. But he could not run far. Every where he turned, it was still B'hărăbû. A place he once sought for freedom, now for it to only be his cage.

Now he was a murderer. No one but him knows that he killed a man that night, but that first kill would always be in the back of his mind as the day that he was no longer the happy farmer boy that he used to resent so much. Çelik accepted that to live here he had to adapt. Within time he would be able to pick up what odd jobs he could and earn enough pearls to buy his first sword. While he had no formal training in combat or even a underlying desire to fight, he had gathered that men around these parts made their money with a sword. He offered himself as a mercenary and often hanged around taverns and merchant stalls to deal his business. Slowly, he started learn little by little as he went. Each fight made him a little more tougher, each wound made him more knowledgeable, and each loss brought him closer to another victory. A little over a Tam'nýer—a' month passed, and soon Çelik was a well known member of B'hărăbû's streets. While nobody famous, he was a well respected man with anyone he came across. He became a skilled swordsmen after his time fighting and with a little help from Sál Kar Anhį, an older human mercenary that took him under his wing. Over time he would give him peices of armor and equipment for him to use, and helped get him a room at a local tavern that he stays at so often it's basically his home at this point. With his help he was soon a well off mercenary capable of handling any task thrown his way. It has been said that with enough perals he may even kill, but that is debatable. There is nothing concrete on Çelik to prove him as a murderer, and any accusations otherwise are typically rumors that are easy to denounce. He may be known for defending himself, or killing for protection as he has been hired as a body guard, but as far as downright murder goes his slate is clean. People came to know him as one of the more friendlier ruffians in town, but still not someone to trifle with. Pretty Boy Çelik Azar had made a fine enough name for himself.

He hardly goes to the docks anymore. Sometimes, when the weather is clear enough, he can see ZàÞça way in the distance, just a blurry line across the ocean. He wondered often how his family was doing. What do they think of him? What would they think of him now? Sometimes he wished that he would have just stayed, but what is done is done. He doesn't even know if he could face them now. There was more blood on his hands then the soil he used to till now, he was no doubt considered a disgrace.

He still has a little bit of hope however, as his eyes often wonder to the blue ocean. Hoping that maybe one day he will get to sail across it. But for now, he is a living example of a sad and cautionary tale of what can happen to a good man swept into a cut throat world. Once a simple farmer boy longing for high sea adventures, now a ruthless mercenary who makes his living off of murder and harassment. His kind is nothing new, but tragic nevertheless.