Harlan Ares Borias

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[break]Species Centaur
[break]Playby Kevin Tod Smith
[break]Height 16.1 hh at the withers, his torso is about 4 feet from base to top of his head...so pretty friggin tall.

[break]Weight 3000 lbs
[break]Hair dark brown, almost black. Depends on if it is winter or summer

[break]Eye Color brown

[break]Scars/Tattoos He has a brand on his arm that is of the war god Ares

[break]Usual Attire He is for the most part always in a leather vest without an undershirt, or he's completely shirtless. He's got a rather hairy chest.
[break]General Aura He generally always appears brooding, sometimes appearing unapproachable. But most people run away anyway, so that's not really an issue to him.

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Likes Fighting, Alcohol, Being left alone, horses (they're easier to deal with)[break]
Dislikes regular people (non-magical), Submissive people, Not being in charge[break]
Fears Commitment, Being Alone forever[break]
Overall Personality When Harlan was a child, while he was driven by his love of war, he was a loving and caring individual. He wouldn't hit a girl, he wouldn't raise a hand against an unarmed man. He had values and honor. And while those values and honor are still instilled within him, he believes he no longer is an honorable person; though his acts he will always continue to try to move them honorably. [break]

When he learned of anger, it has sometimes consumed him. With his demi-god blood in his veins, his emotions can sometimes make him do things he might later question; such as slaughtering villages of innocents all because they worshipped the wrong god. Anger is his worst enemy, and his greatest friend. Anger though, is what probably possesses him mostly now, because he has walled up his heart and refuses to feel love for anything anymore. Everything he has ever loved; his father, his mother, his wife, his child, has friend Iolaus; has died. He refuses therefore to let it blind him ever again; but somewhere inside him is the capacity to love.[break]

He is for the most part cold and calculating-an unforgiving individual who will hold a grudge and will dish out what he sees fit as punishment. He is filled by a hatred for both himself and for the people of the world; mostly regular animals and humans-for they have always done him and his people wrong. Perhaps that is why he was drawn to the academy, as it seemed a safe haven for those who could be thought of as "different." [break]

Whether or not Harlan can express love, gratitude, or any sort of friendship anymore is up to the people he interacts with and what they do wrong to him. Perhaps there is someone out there to change him like Gabrielle did for Xena; or how in the end, Xena changed Ares. [break]

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Current Residence The Forgotten Tribe
Current Relationships Anahel "Angel" Dust ; RileyCasper
Birthday He's forgotten[break]
Parents Ares and Epiphany (reborn centaur)[break]
Siblings Long since dead[break]
Children Ioalus (dead), A few horse children that has bled down through the lines[break]
Life EventsCentaur women are rare-in fact they don't exist, except once in all of history. After Xenan was left the last of the centaurs, he was forced to try to repopulate them, and teach his son, Borias, the tricks of the trade at a quite young age. Seeing her son suffering, the ghost of Epihany takes pity upon her son and grandson. Rallying the now mostly scattered Amazon tribes through the bond shared by all Amazons, she was able to possess a willing subject-who indeed offered up her soul for the cause, and they went to the small community of Centaurs. The treaty formed a stronger bond between the Centaurs and the Amazons, as they built the society to protect themselves. Feeling the will of the young Amazon that had offered herself to Epihany, she could feel that she was falling in love with her [Epihany's] grandson. Not wanting to betray the privacy of her grandson she let them have their wedding night to themselves; feeling as though she was no longer needed. Aphrodite, though weakened greatly by Xena's rampage upon the gods with Eve, saw this and was reminded of what it was to be the goddess of love. Meeting with Epihany as she once more returned to the promised land of Valhalla, she made her a deal; giving up her immortality to make it happen. That night, a seed was planted in the young Amazon that had given herself as tribute to Epihany; but it was not just any seed, in any form...it was Epihany; given the chance by Aphrodite and the will of the fates, holding onto what control they had.

[break]The town thought the young Amazon had gone crazy with losing the help of Epihany when she said she had dreamed of Epihany and that she told her that the baby was going to be a female centaur. But, they treated her no differently, just merely rolled their eyes. She grew, she continued living; loving her husband, the grandson of Epihany. The child was born-and was just as Epihany had said in the dream; a daughter centaur. She was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever seen; the most beautiful thing created. Because she was the soul of Epihany she had the same beautiful blonde hair that she posessed; or perhaps it was the blood of Epihany that ran through the foal's veins. But, something strange also donned her, a palomino coat-and perhaps it was the strange fate that lead to her birth, but small trickles of white, like little creaks along her ribs came down. Some said it was a monstrosity, some said she shouldn't exist, but others almost wished to worship her. Here was a new age; a female centaur. In honor of her part in it; and that in fact she was indeed herself; the foal was named Epihany.

[break]She grew and learned with the other centaur children. They treated her no differently than if she was just like the rest of them-being of the Amazon bloodline, she would have had it no different anyway. She grew quickly efficient with a staff, and later with a bow and arrow. Of course, as they grew into their teenage years; she had to be separated from the boys. Hormones were raging and well, centaur boys had never been able to be around a female centaur, and so she trained with the Amazons. By this time, Eve was well on her way to the destruction of the gods, and Athena had taken control. Ares was trying his best to not let himself be destroyed, though he had always been drawn to Xena, he could neither attack her or help her...and so he looked elsewhere upon the world. And though she was not Xena, he could not deny his new found obsession with this strange creature; Epihany.
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And so, away from the others, he wooed her. He seduced her into it, tempting her with false love, though he could only ever love his warrior princess. Of course, stories of her had found their way to Epihany's ears (since this young Epihany did not have her memories of her past life)...but perhaps deep in her heart she thought perhaps she could steal Ares love from her. And they bred, and of course-it was the first time for Ares to make love to a centaur; and well, he certainly couldn't complain. The following week, Aphrodite helped Xena into Mount Olympus to try and kill the reigning terror that was Athena; when Eve and Gabrielle were killed, and Ares saw how broken his beloved Xena was, he gave up his immortality to save his destroyer and someone he couldn't stand; becoming mortal himself as he watched Athena die; killed by Xena's hand.
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As a mortal, Xena helped him-but again rejected him. Unmasked as a mortal to his followers, they no longer wanted to follow someone who now did not understand fear, even though he was afraid to die. So run he did, and back to the Amazons and the Centaurs. While they did not exactly welcome him with open arms, they also did not reject him as the others have. No; the Amazons never had worshiped him, but they seemed fine enough with him, and of course Epihany and the Centuars welcomed him. They had worshiped. Months had passed, and it had been since revealed that she was in foal. Being that he had always wanted a child, secretly of course, he stayed-he had nothing else to do, so why not. He worked with the centaurs as a mortal, and while he would not marry Epihany; knowing full well he could not return her love while Xena had even ever existed; he would not leave her to raise the child alone. Epihany did not lose hope on him however.

[break]The foal was born; a handsome little colt, falling in with tradition. A god had no last name; and so they gave him the last name Ares, In honor of his father's name, he was given the middle name Borias. His first name was a family name, long forgotten mostly within the Amazon tribes-the name of the grandmother's father-Harlan. And perhaps, it gave the colt a little too much freedom in that. Ares, always wanting a child to raise; wanting so badly to be able to raise a child with Xena-was a far better father than one might expect. However, he quickly began testing the foal's powers-seeing what had passed down. But Olympus had fallen; and the stills of the powers of the Gods was gone. His son could do little, and Ares blamed himself-he had bred the destroyer, the child with Xena that neither could raise (and he in fact thought dead), that he had not stopped her, and so perhaps a little, he began to resent Xena. Her hold on him began to break a little, and the love that Epihany washed over him was finally able to sink in-and he was, in some way, a little at a time, able to return it.

[break]By the time Harlan was the age of Solan at his death, he had two little brothers, and a third on the way. His parents were married, and very much in love. Neither had any powers, nor did they retain the same markings as their mother. The magic of the way she had been conceived seemed to fade. It could never be said that he did not know love; for his father, the former god of war Ares, trained him well, fueled him with the same passion he had had in his early days; and his mother taught him of respect for women, respect for all. They taught him the traditions of their peoples, of their lineage, and of the new future dawning before them. All in all, Harlan was raised a well rounded individual.
[break]Time passed, and he did not seem to question his heritage or his identity as a loving though violent individual until his later teenage years. He had not yet found any fair woman to woo, and at that point had his focus on learning the art of war than to seduce and woo women. He was only a centaur of fifteen, and was about to be initiated into the ranks of the army when battle broke out. The rising population of cathols were horrified by the centaurs, thinking them abominations. The crusades now begun, they sought to whip anyone who did not believe in their one true god off the face of the earth; the centaurs and the Amazons. Leading to his heritage, Harlan and his father riding upon his back lead the centaurs and the Amazon in a war to end all wars. Many lives were lost, and the centaurs were once more, after the full forty years that had now passed since they were nearly extinct, had reached a little over a hundred in population...now they were reduced to single digits once again. In trying to protect his son, Ares was killed.

[break]Angered by the blindness of simple men, Harlan gathered the few he could and waged war; becoming a man that his father, in his god days, would have been quite proud of. He sacked villages, he pillaged, plundered, and spread the seed of the centaurs in the villagers that he and his army raped-as well as the wild nights they would spend celebrating their victory with the Amazon women. How many children he sired, he could not begin to count. Because of this warlord he was becoming, his troups nicknamed him "Wario". But despite mounting a war against them, despite killing hundreds of human men, raping hundreds of human women, it was not to be so.
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Returning home, nearly victorious in wiping out any villages that supported the crusades, he found his brothers trying to comfort their mother to very little avail. She was broken with the loss of their father; broken to see her son become a tyrant, and so too was Harlan broken. He saw the pain his mother was in, and was horrified that he had left her. His heart broke that day, but that was not when it turned cold.

[break]The few centaurs and amazons that were left went further into hiding. They began to live amongst the caves in the mountains, where they would not be thought of or looked for. As they tried to heal their wounds, it seemed that the three sons were losing their mother slowly but surely. Where the true Epihany had been strong willed and would not lay down her sword for anything; the heart of the rebirthed centaur was a little different. In an effort to try and find a way to return his mother to her former glory, he set out; traveling through the night most times to avoid confrontation-it is not easy to disguise a centaur as anything but what he is.

[break]He traveled far and wide, searching for the temple of Mnemosyne to try and unlock the memories of her former life, but along with many of the other gods and goddesses; Mnemosyne was no more, and her temples had been all but desecrated and destroyed. Once more angry at those who did not even honor heritage, he rode into a human village who worshipped the Cathol ways, and burned it to the ground, leaving only one little girl alive. He never saw her again, or at least, he thought he never would. He just did not have the heart to kill her, as she looked up to him with those innocent eyes.
[break]Ashamed of his rampage, he decided not to return home. Word reached him not long after that their mother had perished; she had refused to eat after losing both her beloved and her first born son, though surrounded by those who loved her. Love did strange things to the mind; and at that moment Harlan decided that love was a disease. He would not fall to its whims, as it seemed to weaken judgement.
[break]He traveled on, moving only at night and taking refuge in the forests and caverns. He trusted no one, he spoke with no one, and sometimes he wondered if ever faced with a situation where he might have to speak; if his voice had not been stolen by the muses for someone else. Depressed was not quite the word to describe him; walled off, torn, struggling to keep his head above water, perhaps.

[break]Years passed; time passed. He continued on in his existence, never stopping for any soul. The world seemed to change around him, and he did not stop or care. He was a forgotten relic, lost in time. He did not seem to realize how much time had passed; the life of the centaurs is a long one, and that of a demi-god is even longer; there is no telling how long it was he roamed, but the world was changing. Perhaps even a thousand years had passed, and he fell into a wraith like existence-he existed, but seemed to have no purpose, but to wander to find it. Wars had changed their course; he could no longer control them. Men shrieked in terror like mice when they saw him. He did not know the fate of his kind, nor the fate of the many children he had spawned in his rampaging days-it seemed he forgot all, except the pain of losing his parents, and the horrors that love seemed to cause.

[break]Centuries passed, and yet he remained unchanged. Perhaps it was that he had gained his father’s god spirit when his father was killed before him-but who was to know, for no one was left to prophesize about the ways of the Greek Gods. And so onward he continued, never speaking, just moving. He came then upon a blind man; who had lost his way in the woods. He heard the hoofbeats, and demanded to know what army came, what things he knew. And cracked and broken, Harlan then spoke-after centuries of disuse, his voice cracked and finally came out-saying he was alone with his horse; explaining that the horse was headshy to the extreme. A friendship was formed, however strange it was. Never touching the horse’s neck or head, as the blind man mounted Harlan he merely thought he was holding onto the back of his new found friend. The blind man had a name, Iolaus.

[break]Iolaus was a descendant of the one who traveled with Hercules; and oh the stories he could tell. Iolaus asked of Harlan’s origins, but he did not pressure him. Together; they decided to leave this changing world, and traveled along the pathways to the kingdom of Chin. By then, it had bene highly industrialized. It had taken months of travel, but finally they arrived-and were sorely disappointed in what they found. And so, they hired a ship; or well, bought a ship, and decided to sail. They did not know to where, but onward they went; fighting the seas. At some point, the ship was torn apart by a storm, and though Harlan tried to save them both, the blind Iolaus perished. Lost in the middle of the ocean, there was no knowing where he might end up-and so he just kept swimming, stopping where he could on volcanic islands, eating what seaweed he could find.

[break]A battered man, aged it seemed in his eyes far past what he appeared, he washed upon the shores of Hawaii one fateful day. It had still been inhabitated by the native tribes; the white men had not come to claim their new throne. They worshipped Harlan as if he was a god; having never seen such a magnificent creature before. And it was then that Harlan opened his heart and mind to love once again; only to have it ripped away once more.

[break]Amongst the tribes there was strife, and amongst the kingdom where he had landed, their militia was weak. Falling upon his old ways, Harlan brought them up to standards and brought them into a fighting spirit. In this, his walls relaxed and he was able to almost enjoy life once again. And with this spirit, the young princess amongst the tribe fell in love with. It was a forbidden union; partly because the ways of their people only would allow her to marry another of the Hawaii natives, and because in an attempt to avoid bloodshed she was already betrothed to the prince of one of the kingdoms on the Honolulu. And it was against this tribe, with love in his heart, that Harlan lead the militia against. They had rowed in the night to attack; and had come upon the land upon daylight and attacked. The battle was quickly won; and the tribelands secured within a few short months. To their land of Kauai they returned, and Harlan was married to the princess of the land. Within a fortnight of their marriage, she carried the child of what the people had come to call the god of war. He spoke not of his father, but he knew he would have made him proud.

[break]The child grew large quickly; like none any of the Shamans had ever seen. Harlan tried to explain to them what was growing inside her was like him; the body of a man and a horse-but they did not listen. She died in childbirth, giving birth to a son that Harlan named Iolaus, after the name of the friend who had come here with him. But the other people of the kingdom thought it was the devil’s spawn; as it had killed their beloved princess, and they turned upon Harlan and the child. And so, as best he could with a child, he ran-and ran, to the coast; feeding the child coconut milk in the absence of his mother’s milk, he knew he would not survive long. Harlan did his best to stand his ground; slaughtering many of the men he had formerly called friends to save his son. He knew though that he could not stand his ground forever; and it was then that he realized the hidden power of his telekinetic ability. Bruised, wounded, near death, a war cry broke from him and suddenly, all those pummeling him were thrown hundreds of feet away; collapsing into puddles of flesh. Knowing he could not survive another onslaught, he drug his son aboard a ship and made for the open seas.

[break]His son was weak without the milk of his mother. Try as he might, Harlan could not row far without reopening the wounds he had pitifully banaged himself. And so he let the wind carry them, praying that he would arrive somewhere in time, before the supplies ran out. He prayed to what gods he knew-the Greek gods of old that he knew no longer existed, but that his mother and father might hear in the land of the dead. And though perhaps they did and perhaps they didn’t, Harlan could never tell you-but one thing he could, they were delivered upon the land of an island lush and vibrant and untouched, and were saved.
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Upon their arrival, a herd of horses came to investigate the strange smell of the horse that had came upon them. Not necessarily knowing how to communicate, he defended his child before them, until an older mare-one who had lost her foal recently to a flood of the island at tide, came and let him nurse. Of course, it was a strange feeling for the mare, letting a human mouth nurse from her, but it was necessary. His son lived, for then, and they allowed Harlan to join the herd as a sentry and warrior-since he could do far more damage than any of the rest of them could when rival herds came. And with this, Harlan was okay. He existed amongst them, protecting them. Without men to lead to battle though, he did not wage wars. His son grew, and he did his best to teach him what he could-but ultimately, he learned more sparring with the regular colts of the herd. The herd changed with the years, horses died, leadership changed, other foals were born-and Iolaus grew into a teenager.
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And with those teenage years came the wiles of hormones. Raging as they were, he wanted to strike out on his own and find a pretty filly and steal her heart. Try as he might to explain to his son that it was just not meant to be; that while this herd had accepted him, the others might fear him. They were mostly human, after all, and these were horses. They were dumb animals. At this, Iolaus grew angry. These were his friends, and they were not dumb. He left, telling his father if he ever saw him again; it would be the death of one or the other of them. Wanting to give his son time to calm down, Harlan returned to the herd. But that time was spent doing other things.

[break]Yes, Iolaus had quickly forgotten the fight with his father, but he also used the time to find himself the filly he wanted for his own. A gorgeous blue roan filly; some whispered that she was the heir to the crown of the horses. And to her, Iolaus went; trying to seduce her. At first, she did not understand what he was, and ran in fear to her other herd mates. The stallion ran him off; knowing him to be the son of the protector of the rival herd. But time and time again did Iolaus return, and soon the filly grew curious; and went to him. He stroked her in ways she never dreamed could be done. He made her feel in ways she did not know existed in the realms of feeling. All other things aside, the filly knew what she was feeling-love.

[break]Harlan had let the time pass, he did not interact with the other horses much, just stood out as sentry, so he did not hear the rumors of what his son was attempting to do. Not until the night the filly went into heat, and madness then ensued. For yet then they had their secret meeting, and with the filly seducing him, and him so easily aroused-it was not long before he had thrown his body upon her back and began the ritual. Stroking along her neck with his human hands as he thrust into her, whispering and nibbling on her ear, the filly knew he was the only one she’d ever let breed to her. But it was as he continued, as they neared the climax, and the filly began to play a bit with him and push back into his thrusts as he tried his best to keep going as she asked, their came the mighty shriek of human passion from his lips as he released into her. The herds descended upon them all, and of course Harlan had heard and ran for it; trying to protect his son.

[break]It can certainly be said that horses are far easier to kill with a sword than a human who also wields one. And when the horses lunged at his son, all he had of his beloved Greece, all he had of his beloved princess, rage filled him. He attacked with the sword he still always carried, cutting off horse limbs, horse heads, slicing and dicing as his son stood with his beloved merely trying to catch their breath. It was not until he was kicked in the leg and chest by two of the stallions before he went down. Wielding his sword he managed to kill them both, but the hoard had already gotten toward his son and the filly. His son did his best, but in his somewhat weakened post-sex haze, he did not aim his blows accurately. The filly, screaming for her beloved as he fought his best to get to her as she was being dragged away, was killed before his very eyes after they realized what had been done. No heir to the throne would carry the spawn of anything but the finest horse-not some idiotic centaur boy who did not know their ways.

[break]Fueled by rage, Iolaus ran into the fray, hacking and slashing with his feet as best he could. No horse was save from his flying hooves; nor was he. There were too many horses for him to take on at once, and stuck as he was, unable to move with the broken leg, Harlan could do nothing but watch in horror as they slaughtered his son. Harlan was forgotten, thought to perhaps just be dead. It was soon that his own herd came, finding Harlan and the bodies of the others spread around him. Though they feared him now, they helped him get back to their lands, and helped to nurse his broken foot. But Harlan then spoke no more, as his heart lay shattered and turned to ice. His beloved had been stolen from his by his son; and his son had been stolen from him by these beasts of burden. Vengeance would be his , but he needed time to heal. His plan formed as he did so; and when he was able to walk once more-he left into the woods, leaving his herd behind. Tales traveled amongst the herd of the one who came and attacked in broad daylight, killing everyone but the youngest of the fillies. It was soon that only these fillies remained, except his herd. And then they too, were killed-all of them; not even leaving the youngest of the fillies.
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And then he raised them as his own, gathering the fillies to where he could navigate them well. He trained them as he would have Amazons. And when their first heat came, he raped them all; some loving it, some trying to run. Only one came into foal that first heat cycle, and so every time they came into heat he would do it again. It wasn’t for pleasure, it wasn’t for anything-other than to make them carry the seed of the demon that had killed their families. But they were too young and too stupid in his opinion to realize it. And when the last one was pregnant, he left them, disappearing in the night to go gods only knew where.

[break]Again he traveled, alone, broken, but refusing to be defeated. There was no one upon this island but the animals, at least for then. He cursed himself, cursed his existence. He tried to kill himself; but then he would have accepted defeat. And defeat was not something he would accept; ever. He would dominate, he would succeed, he would win. Time passed. He did not care to know what happened to the fillies, probably raped by their own sons or more horses he did not know about came from other parts of the terrain yet unexplored by him. He cared not. People appeared on the island, and so he avoided them. The castle of Twilight Falls was built, and he avoided them. He just wanted to be left alone.

[break]Perhaps curiosity got the best of him, or it was the yells of training for war that beckoned him, but one day he found himself standing on the grounds of the academy. He watched in the shadows, leaning up against a tree as he saw them riding, and some even trying to teach archery on horseback-which he couldn’t help but laugh about. The kids…he couldn’t quite place it, but the kids seemed to warm his frozen heart a little bit. Maybe it was time he came out of hiding again and did something useful with his life, eh? It had been another hundred years or so since the issue with the horse herds; it had been nearly two millennia since he had left his homelands.


In roleplay additions:
Meeting Anahel, finding his Xena

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Friendship None Yet[break]
Enemies None Yet[break]
Mentors None Yet[break]
Lovers Anahel [break]
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Supplemental Information [break]
He is able to somewhat weild fire, but his ability to do so has decreased from disuse. He can fan flames that already exist, but cannot make them himself.