Afla, pronounced "Ef-lah"

Claiming to have boarded a caravan into the West, Afla would consider his home to be some cramped hut on the bank of The Great River. Where exactly? Well, he is no topographer. All he knows is that his traits resemble a lad from the South, and that he has seen the great open sea in all its splendour. Though, he was but a child. 

Currently being no older than eighteen winters, Afla considers himself a Johnny do-it-all, lending his hand to locals for some silver where he can. This young man seems to stroll through life carelessly, half-long dark manes ever a mess and flashing a row of white teeth in his smirks. Thanks to the deep dimples in his sun-kissed cheeks, folk tend to go around giving him the epithet "Dimples", much to his dislike, wishing to show some masculinity. Truth be told, almost any grown man could topple him, being but a five foot six lad with little meat on his bones. A lean frame, but with toned muscle provided through 'hard labour' and running from outraged stall keepers after snatching an apple from the market. Mostly the latter.