In his past, Cavalion was a creature driven by impulse, a slave to his own desires. He has recently put that behind him, but the effort to contain that side of himself is often overwhelming. He tends to be curt and brief with his words, constantly guarding himself lest his words lead him down the dark path that he has turned his back on.
The desires sometimes do overpower him, and when that happens, though it is on rare occasion, an ugly side of himself rears its head and takes control. He becomes wild, primal, and lets nothing stand in the way of what he craves. Morals, pretenses, and the mask he bears daily are all strewn aside and nothing can be done to recover them besides time.
Unlike his brothers and sisters, Cavalion has a hard time connecting with other beings at a level deeper than physical. While other sylvari seem to be able to look past appearances and love, or despise, what lies within, his decisions of people are based off of what evidence he can see, be that appearance, mannerisms, or behavior. Though he finds his way to be more sensible than they typical sylvari, part of him misses that ability to look beyond what he sees.
His reservations stem from his belief that he is inherently wrong, a failed creation if you will. He thinks that his destructive desires means that there's something incorrect in his mind and body, that he has to hold himself back in case he falls prey to his habits again. He believes that he can never redeem himself from the mistakes that he's made, that he can never again look through the eyes of his past self that had just emerged from his pod.
Tyrin, his current owner
Whatever his master gives him
Cavalion's Dream unfolded almost as if it were a play in two parts. The first was filled with the pressing feelings of despair and terror, a tormenting swirling mass that flashed gruesome images so bright that it felt like they were piercing his eyes. Nightmare had a hold of him, but before it had a chance to twist his body and mind he fought back. With zealous blue flame he purged the corruption from his mind, and as the flames dwindled and the smoke blew away another sight met his gaze, like a curtain being pulled aside.
Though it took a bit of time for Cavalion to adjust to a more friendly sight, once he did he could not look away. He saw the wondrous coastal city of Lion's Arch, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed. The feel of the ocean breeze on his skin and the vibrancy of all the lives intertwining in the city were overpowering, and the other memories of his dream seemed insignificant in comparison. After emerging from his pod, Cavalion wasted no time in the Grove but instead immediately ventured to the city that had called to him so strongly in his dream, intending on fully experiencing it for himself.
And experience he did! The city was more amazing than he could have fully experienced in his dream, and he was determined to explore its every nook and cranny. He talked to people in taverns, traveled to numerous stands to examine exotic curiosities being sold there, ventured to restaurants and inns, and traveled down to the harbor to see the magnificent ships there.
His exploration took him into the darker more seedy parts of the city, and in the name of full experience he wandered into shady establishments, filled with a haze of smoke and the smells of blood, vomit, and fornication. He was offered narcotics while at one such establishment and took the substance.
Overwhelmed by the potency of the narcotic, he began using it on a regular basis without inhibitions. He also began brawling in the arena to afford his habit and barely avoided getting his debts paid late, though sometimes that meant skipping meals, not paying rent, and not being able to afford nicer equipment or effective healers.
He was barely scraping by as it is, but then his appetite expanded. Not only was he indulging in narcotics, but courtesans also became a necessity. For little more than a month he lived between the arena and the dark alleys of the city. His memories of this time are blurs, overpowered by the raw visceral sensations and the constant craving, like an ache that permeated his entire being. But these desires came with monetary costs and debts that he could not fulfill.
First he was cut off, and then, in the midst of the lowest point in his short time out of the dream he was found by collectors and beaten severely. Numerous people passed the alleyway where he lay, sap oozing out of numerous wounds, but none even looked at him. He lay there for a full day, the pleasures that he had been experiencing not too long ago now replaced by the opposite, but just as overpowering, feeling of pain. Vowing to never fall into such a steep debt again, he let his life filled with narcotics and courtesans behind him.
Afraid to stray towards narcotics again, Cavalion spent most of his time in the arena. Unlike his addictions, his love of the ring was more of a true love rather than a desire. The sound of cheering and clapping was like music to him, and he found great enjoyment in protecting allies from enemy onslaughts when he was teamed up. The arena became a sanctuary for him, he could bury his unpleasant thoughts and desires while fighting, and besides the wounds he received, of which there were many, the arena never hurt him like narcotics did.
Still, his debts remained, and the money he made in the arena wasn't coming in fast enough for his collectors. The decision to sell himself, and his services as a fighter, to the highest bidder was a hard decision to make, born out of the need of money, but he did it anyways, knowing that this new life might give him the structure he needs to stay clean. However, this decision meant that returning to the Grove, something he had wanted to do ever since he cleaned himself up, was a long way off, though having a goal, he hoped, would make his time as a slave pass quicker.
How Cavalion joined the CartelEdit
As a result of Cavalion's drug habits (see below for more detail), he became in debt with Silverthron. He made every attempt to gather the money in time, but he was unable to do so. Silverthorn cleared his debt by making him a Bonded, and the next day he was put up for auction. There was a small amount in interest in him, and as a result of a tie he chose a norn by the name of Matthais, a member of the Coin, to be his owner.