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Name: Cloar Magnese
Species: Lairon 

Ability: Sturdy - Prevents the user from fainting from a one hit KO move.

Gender: Female
Age: 26
►D.O.B: April 27

Height: 6’1 Feet
Hometown: Bescone

Class: Paladin
►Weapon: Stone Embedded Claymore || Alt. Falchion
Cloar has grown to learn three variants of swords. Slowly ranking up, she began with a basic sword, then to a double-handed sword(s), until she adapted to using a Claymore. Being a double edged Claymore, she continuously has to clean and sharpen this hunk of a weapon as often as she uses it. Normally she will drag it behind her, intentionally doing it for the possibility infection once landing a blow on the enemy. One may say that the decision of stones imbedded in the weapon may seem ridiculous at first, but it is quite helpful for her. When using Stealth Rock, these stones will shoot out of her sword, orbit around the enemy, and finally pierce into their skin at the respected time.

Growing up in a judgmental and unhealthy community, Cloar was taught to be quiet, and to mind no one else but herself. Naturally, this was quite easy for her to grow accustomed to, as she already inherited a more introverted personality from her mother. Although this was positive where she had grown, this made her practically incompatible with any other community for a substantial amount of time. It was only until she spent time with the right people did she begin to thaw out of her anxious, unconfident shell. Although the time she spent with her good comrades aided her much, there are still moments in solitude in which she resorts back to her original habits. This can always be seen when encountering strangers.

    Normally, Cloar composes herself in a way in which she wouldn’t have to legitimately begin a conversation with strangers. Whatever she can do to get out of any obnoxious conversations, the better. She’s always on her toes towards people who are visually anonymous to her. Then again, if she’s curious, she wouldn’t see it hurting to ask a couple questions or two. If given time and an ear to her words, she’ll soon enough warm up to some people. Upon doing so, she can actually be quite a childish and upbeat lady, yet at the same time quite motherly. Cloar will do whatever to keep her companions safe and in the right mindset. Despite personal harm, she would act in any way to keep them in good condition. This humble trait can be both a gift and a curse when on the battlefield.
 
Likes: Reading | training/exercising | Exploring | Cuddled up by a warm fire | Cuddles in general | Proving her worth
Dislikes: Blazing hot/freezing cold climates | Complete silence | condescending men | cat-callers | Conversations that waste her time | Magic | Any sexual advances | Her father / Other Aggrons

_{TL;DR: Cloar was born and raised on a farm by a cruel, abusive father. With nothing but her mother and the useless desire of becoming a knight to motivate her through her days, she lived a very melancholy life. One fateful day, an anomaly occurred, and Cloar’s mother wasn’t awake to greet her. Finding what truly happened, she packed her bags, and departed the home in a haste, despite the reassurance she was spoon-fed each and every day of her life. Past that, she decided to take on the occupation of a knight, training for years to become the dumb metal-freckled nerd you see today!}

    Cloar was raised on a farm just north off of Bescone. All around her was miles upon miles of wheat fields, for as far as her eyes could see. While it may have not been much, it was amazing how much could be filled in with a feeble child’s mind. One may had seen the swaying of golden grass within the high rising sun as nothing more than dead weeds lurking about pathways, but to the Aron, it was the perfect concealment for raiding rogues and dastardly fiends alike. Just because she was isolated from the rest of the world didn’t mean the life of a knight could have hidden from her. And how could it? Due to their location, it was often that one or two knights patrolled a bit farther than required. The young Aron always greeted them with open arms each time it happened. It seemed that they returned the warm welcome, and even exchanged more than she could ever imagine. They played games with her, attend her tea parties, even gave her piggyback rides! What more could she ever ask for?! Of course, great things come and go, and soon enough her only playmates were gone, but their influence on her remained.

    She was the fastest warrior known to anyone in Crone; the best of the best! So young, yet so bold and powerful in every move she did. No one was left standing after facing her. No longer was she Cloar Magnese, the farmer’s child, but Cloar Magnese, the protector of the country, the slayer of beasts! With a sword wielded in her firm hands, she brought down armies, striking fear into the foes of all who dared gaze upon her. No one was left standing…

    But with a holler from behind, her status, her sword, her dreams faded once again into the vortex that was reality. She had no status. Her sword was no more than a garden trowel, and her fallen enemies were simply holes in the ground, and crushed, muddied strands of wheat. Her head turned back to only gain the strong, powerful reminder that her fantasies would never happen, no matter how much she dreamed. He was giving her that look again. She had done wrong, hadn’t she? She looked down as the rampaging sputtering of nonsensical words emerged from his gaping jaws. What was the punishment going to be tonight? was the only thing that Cloar could think. No dinner, a new dent in her metal skin? Maybe she’d lose a tooth in exchange for his lost wheat? She prayed that it wouldn’t be that… She held her mask tight against her face, forcing herself to stand upright towards the condescending being before her. Before her eyes could even lock with his piecing blue orbs, she was greeted with his glistening claws. The morbid sound of steel raking against her metallic visage left her paralyzed with fear even before the force sent her small figure greeting the earth she had ruined to begin with.

    Tears swelled in the Aron’s eyes, but she told herself not to cry. She couldn’t cry… It would only resort to the same thing, maybe even something else worse. Her natural formed mask only protected her so well, and without it, she would no longer be Cloar Magnese, but the dearly departed…

    After the incident had happened, Cloar had not one, but two reminders to not act upon her emotions; the solidified mark of his claws against her mask, and her mother’s soothing, calming reassurance. She had gone too far in her father’s eyes, and all her mother feared was what could happen to her if she had done so once again. Each day before the sun barely peeked over the horizon, Cloar and her mother uttered to one another, palliating the life the two of them had the pleasure to live in. By the time they had finished, they were prepared to face the hardships that the day came to offer.
    
    Year after year, Cloar had survived, yearning for the day that it would all change for the better. But alas, it seemed the day she had waited for was more a living hell then heaven itself. She had awoken early as she always had, preparing to go through the similar routine she had come to know for the past twenty years… Yet something was wrong. Where was her mother? She almost always was the first to awake, but she was nowhere in sight. Not on the front porch, not down in the cellar. Anxiety built up within mere minutes as she searched the crooked cabin from top to bottom, being sure that she didn’t disturb the beast residing within it.

    Upon inspection, the only sound that truly intruded the house was within the room she dared not enter. Then again, what else was she going to do? The door creaked open, and her eyes rested upon the scene… Don’t act upon your emotions, Echoed in her mind as she shut the door with a solid thud. Don’t anger your father, stuttered in her head as she barricaded the door. We need the extra hand around the farm, wailed through her senses as she hastily snatched up whatever spare change she possibly could. I don’t want to lose you, resonated in her being as she raked her way through the wheat.

    From then on, the Aron was alone; haunted by the shadow of her family with each step she took. Every place she rested, she felt as if she was going to be captured, found, and taken back to the hell of a farmer’s life once again. Freedom was all around her, but her shackles still remained. Years went by, and the same routine, the same horrifying cycle was always right behind her. There seemed to be no breakthrough… That was until she had finally given into her fantasies locked up so long ago… A knight. That’s what she wanted to become. A warrior, a hero, a beacon of light in a hopeless country. From then on, she trained tooth and nail to become the knight she always dreamed of becoming.

Move Set:

 Stealth Rock | Inherited from her mother, Cloar entraps her enemy in a confinement of levitating stones. If the target moves out of the field, and another takes their place, they will be injured. This move will only work for about two usages before dispelling. The enemy has to be within her line of sight for her to use it, but does not need to be once it has already been triggered.

 Autotomize | Cloar will shed a metallic layer of skin to lighten her load and increase her speed. This action will sometimes give strong discomfort to her. At some points during the midst of a battle, she will forget about her increase in speed and may naturally slip and tumble when beginning to sprint.

 Iron Defense | Stiffening all the muscles in her body, the Lairon raises her defense tremendously. Naturally, she has to remain in this position for an extended amount of time to gain a stronger effect. All effects wear off once she is in motion again. Side effects may include more sluggish movements if she maintains the position for too long.

 Take Down | Taking no regard to possible harm to herself, Cloar slams into the target with full force, damaging herself as well as the enemy.