Fenn Korran (FEHN KOR-uhn)

Fenn is in peak physical condition, his muscular frame honed by years of brutal street fights and gladiatorial combat. Despite his imposing strength and endurance, his movements are surprisingly agile, with a grounded precision that reflects his heritage. His stone-like skin, marked with cracks, is both a source of power and a visual reminder of his otherworldly lineage, though it carries faint scars from his hard-fought battles.

Fenn never knew his father—a mystery to him and his mother alike. His mother, Mira, was a hard-working woman from one of the roughest parts of the city. Life was always a battle, but Mira met it with grit and determination, doing whatever it took to keep herself and her son alive. That meant long hours in grueling jobs—sometimes backbreaking labor, sometimes dealing with unruly crowds in noisy taverns. Fenn understood she did it out of love, but the weariness in her eyes left him with little faith in dreams of a better life.   Fenn’s unusual heritage set him apart from an early age. His features, touched by something beyond human blood, fascinated and unsettled those around him. His skin bore subtle markings like the cracks in weathered stone, and he had an almost instinctive connection to the earth. In a place where anything different was eyed with suspicion, he could never quite blend in. The isolation made him strong, but it also made him guarded. Even as a boy, he learned to hide behind a carefree smile and quick wit, masking the impact of the hardships he faced.   When Fenn was fifteen, Mira’s health began to fail after years of unrelenting work. The cost of treatment was far beyond their means, and desperation pushed him toward the underground world of street fighting. There, he fought for coin—sometimes winning, sometimes losing, but always pushing forward. The roar of the crowd, the sting of blows, and the raw energy of the fights became his reality. It was enough to keep food on the table, though never enough to save his mother.   When Mira passed, Fenn was left with nothing—no family, no home, no plan. With little else to lose, he threw himself fully into the only thing he knew: fighting. His skill and showmanship caught the attention of a wealthy patron who saw value in his abilities. Fenn agreed to fight under their banner—not as a prisoner, but as a willing combatant. Compared to starving on the streets, trading blows for a bed and steady meals seemed almost like a fair deal.   In the public eye, Fenn became The Laughing Stone, a fighter known for his playful banter, sharp grin, and the unnerving habit of cracking jokes even in the middle of a fight. He charmed crowds as easily as he bruised opponents, earning a reputation as both a dangerous fighter and a natural entertainer.   But the cocky persona is a mask. Beneath it, Fenn remains wary, keeping others at a distance. Trust is something he offers rarely, and only to those who prove themselves beyond doubt. Behind the grin lies frustration, grief, and the quiet anger of someone who feels the world was stacked against him from the start.   On the nights when the arena falls silent, he sometimes lets the mask slip. Alone in his quarters, he thinks about the life he might have lived, or the one he might still build if he could break free. But for now, survival is enough—and if he has to laugh while fighting to keep it, then so be it.

While his charm and wit are universal, he prefers women romantically and sexually.