Benjamin Turrann
Arris wavin
OOC Game Stats
Game Name Arris
Faction Horde
Race Forsaken
Gender Male
Class Rogue
Guild Grey Tiger Tong
Professions Skinning & Leatherworking
IC Info
Nicknames Ben
Title Clerk, Grey Tiger Shipping, Tiger Claw
Age Looks 16-17
Height 5' 8"
Hair Black
Eyes Grey
Skin Tanned
Alignment Chaotic Good

Physical DescriptionEdit

The most noticeable thing about Ben, besides that he is dead, is his unique and rather thick accent.


More skilled even than his hands are perhaps his senses. The 'tendency' for him to pick up random (and sometimes dangerous) information has proven quite uncanny. Eyes of detail were born gifts, as well, often displayed in his recreation of something simply by having seen it.

He loves being around people, and will always strike up a conversation if there's too much quiet (situation depending). A ready smile and a thousand stories are introduced to friends and strangers alike at every visit.

He's also got himself a reputation as someone who's always in trouble with a tendency to "forget" about orders that were given to him mere hours before.


For a dead guy, Ben has more family then you can shake a stick at. In his own words:

When ah was a boy, ah made alotta mischief. Got into a great deol of trouble. Was o’woays told, “Don’t lemme cetchya next toim, or Oi’ll . . ”, then somethin meanin’less. So, ah got sma’t. They nevuh cought me ‘gain. Mum o’woays gave me the look. She knew ah was craftin somethin, but could nevuh get me. Ah was in cha’ge.

Me an’ mah sistuh wo’ked good togethuh, teamed evuhthin, wasn’t nothin could stop us. Except once.

We was in the feolds o’ Westfall, close to Mo’sen Fa’m, when a knoight came barrowlin ovuh the hiowsoid. We hu'd him foine, just misjudged whe'e he was comin' from (too many thwacks from mum in ea’liuh yea’s, oi say). Oithuh woay, that would have been foine, had we been at the bottom of the hiow.

When the horse lept, its hoof kicked out, and clipped mah sistuh’s jow, spun hu’ in the ai’. She landed on hu’ head, and somethin snapped. She shoulda gone in a bettuh woay than that, but foate sucks. The knoight was devistoited, of cou’se, but he didn’t do the “knoight-ly” thoing. Blamed me fo’ killin hu’ when we got back to Sent’nel Hiow! Guess he couldn’t take the geult. Ah went nuts with roage, an’ slammed muh dagguh whe’ it fit, roight in his oi!

That didn’t do me well. The locals toid a tough rope ‘round mah head (to’e mah cheeks up good), and had me boxed up. Couldn’t breathe, ‘til ah didn’t need to anymo’e.

Ah don’t know why oi rememuh, kinda rathuh not. Ah remembuh wakin up with a heuge headoiche, and muh face hu’t a lot. Found out oi was dead, freaked out at fu’st, and troyed to cope. Aftuh a bit uh proctice, found that the dead me wu’ks pretty well, so ev’rithin’ was foine.

Ah wu’k real well in groups, but can take muh own woay just foine. Muh speciolty is bein invisibol, an’ takin things out when’ey nevuh knew wa’s comin. Ah can be real loyal, loike with muh sistuh. Wasn’t gonna let anythin wrong hu’.

Community content is available under CC-BY-SA unless otherwise noted.