Arren had always been warry of people. He wasn't nervous of others. Just warry. Most people thought he was naive. That he didn't understand this country. But they didn't realize that he had grown up here. He was born and raised in this cold, war torn country. But yet he smiled. For he had learned that a smile was what scared people the most. He had never been scared before, until he met his new master. "The Master of Shadows." Who like him, smiled even though he had been through hell and back. Arren knew that this man was intelligent and powerful. So he chose to aid him. Arren had been asked several times to become the healer for big leaders, but this time was the first time he had ever said yes. Arren was a gifted healer. He knew that, and wasn't afraid to say so. In his opinion it wasn't bragging, unless you were lying. If you were just telling others that you had a certain amount of skill, then it was just telling others the truth.
Arren truly enjoyed parties. Not for the music or alcohol. No, for the reason that many people let down their guard. They put down their shields and accepted a little physical comfort from an attractive, naive and foreign man. That was their first mistake. Even though Arren was clearly more skilled at healing, did not mean that he had forgotton to sharpen his wits and work on his fighting. He could fight as well as most men, and could think as well as most assasins. But his new master was different. He didn't relax when he got the right amount of alcohol. He was perfectly at ease, but still impossible to trick every waking second. And this scared Arren.