Death of the Winter King

Log Info

• Title: Death of the Winter King
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Krom, Braelnoir, Byvinodr
• Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
• Time: Saturday, March 21, 2020, 11:02 PM
• Summary: Krom goes to the Fernwood Pub for dinner, and startles the occupants by drawing his weapon. It is only to use the cold iron to tap the glamour-enhanced contents of his money pouch, which has turned acorns and pebbles into gems and lumps of gold. Cryo, meanwhile, has a dart stuck in her tail, which her fellow server didn't tell her about. It's up to Braelnoir to notice and remove it, although the sith-makar doesn't appear to have suffered any ill effects. A giantborn, Byvinodr enters, and talks of a siege up north, while Krom discusses the death of the Winter King, and the two scale-sisters catch up.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'7"     245 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos.
Krom         6'5"     220 Lb     Human             Male      A young, lithe, Mestnorr warrior.
Braelnoir    5'11"    246 Lb     Silvery Chimera   Female    A silvery deer-lion chimera wielding a scythe and a feral grin.
Byvinodr     8'2"     386 Lb     Giantborn         Male      Gargantuan Giantborn, fine white studded leathers.
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It's evening in the Fernwood Pub. Outside, the wind is cold and the sky threatening, so few have ventured out for dinner and don't stay long after they're done. Only a quarter of the tables have patrons. Mostly, those seem to be Alexandrians, although there is an Arvec Nar sitting in a corner and glowering at the room, two oruchs who seem to be brother and sister, and a table of goblins mixed in with the stereotypical human ones.

The Fernwood's human server and sith-makar server are on the floor. They're wearing a similar uniform, fluffy blouse, corset and skirth. The human has boots, the sith doesn't, and the sith is wearing leather armour as well, with the clothes under it. Also, aprons. Both are circulating, stopping at tables, the bar, the kitchen, the tables, and the bar again. The bar is the official 'hovering' point for them.

Krom makes his way into the tavern with mud. Not quite 'caked' in mud, but distinctly more than 'streaked'. 'Covered'? Covered in mud. A seoncd glance suggests it used to be firmly in the 'caked' category, but a fair bit has been washed off. Bottom line, he's muddy.

Taking a moment to scrape the slightly fresher city mud from his boots, the northman glances around before heading towards the bar proper.

"What'll it be?" The Bartender asks Krom, wiping a spot in front of the northman.

Overhead, heavy, hard footfalls precede the opening of one of the rooms upstairs. With her, honestly, irritating placcard dangling by the leather thong from silvern fingertips, the cloven hooves of a silver chimera clop drowsily down the stairs before Brae herself fully enters line of sight, her other hand stifling a slightly raspy yawn.

At the bar, the sith-makar raises a hand waving at the chimera on the balcony. "Peace on your Nest, food and drinnk?"

"Ale. Glass of warm wine, whatever hot meal is quick and ready, loaf of dark bread, and Krom would have a wedge of smelly cheese if you have it." The northman fubmles with his beltpouch for a moment, but seems the mud has it secured shut. A mild sigh and Krom removes the tie from his belt, and fusses with the knot, the click of heavy coins inside.

The human server is looking at the sith, and following it up with glances towards Krom. However, the lizard is mostly missing them.

The bartender nods, speaking through the window to the kitchen. He pulls out a glass, and fills it with the warmed jug.

As the hand comes down from her face, Brae smiles with lingering sleep in her eyes and lifts her hand again to wave toward the waitsith, "'hey! Yer a mind reader, luv. An' something fer these cobwebs, eh?" She considers the Dranei on vaguely sauntery clop-clopping toward the bar in general, but Cryo in particular, "'ow ya doin, luv?" she asks. The serving girl is pointing now, mouthing 'there's a lot of mud' towards Cryosanthia.

"This one is well, a little tired. Thinking of things I might have said. I'll get you some food, grab a seat." Cryo turns and heads into the kitchen. There is a dart stuck in her tail.

Krom grumbles mildly, fussing with the damp leather thong securing the small bag, finally losening the knot, and upends the contents, dumping the bag out onto the bartop. A kings randsome. Heavy gold coins, gittering diamonds, grape sized rubies, strings of pearls, a couple large emeralds. Krom blinks in surprise at the wealth... then sighs in annoyance, and draws his curved blade...

The human server is suddenly checking on the oruch table.

"Buddy..." The bartender says slowly, stepping back, "... the foods coming."

Braelnoir is about to set a hand on Cryo's shoulder when she turns toward the kitchen, somewhat puzzled by the response, but figures it'll at least keep until she- At the sound of steel clearing leather, the chimera turns, placcard left to gravity's care as she yanks her shortblade from her own scabbard, wary.

Krom glances towards the bartended and chuckles a little, and gently touches his iron blade to a large emerald. There's a small sparkle, and the illusion is destroyed, leaving only a fair sized acorn being. "Fae magic. A blessing, to their eyes. Krom tells them no, but they do not listen." The cold iron weapon is lightly tapped on the rest of the wealth... coppers, acorns, shiney rocks, a bird feather... treasure to a small child, but mostly worthless. Several of the coins are real, and it's these the northman slides over in payment.

"I see." The Bartender nods, relaxing, "Well, that's a cruel trick for them to play. I am glad of your honesty. I don't need chipmunks in the cash register."

And then the sith-makar comes out of the kitchen with a tray and two plates. She swoops along and sets it down on the bar, serving Krom, "Here you are, black break, a knife and butter pat. Our hot food tonight is gunpowder chilli. We've had a lot of celebratory goblins, the gunpowder is light, but if you want to spice it up like they do, Chef says to stir this in." She indicates a small bowl of black powder.

"It will explod, so keep it away from lights. Also, here's your very smelly cheese. Wow, I can taste it from here, and some rice. Enjoy." A similar meal is delivered to Braelnoir, minus the cheese and bowl of gunpowder. Afterwards, Cryo is back to leaning against the bar.

"Hey."

Braelnoir cants her head an arches an eyebrow at the man's survival instincts, but as the show and tell begins with the faetouched currency, she shrugs and deftly slides her weapon back into it's place as she turns back to Cryo, tail wagging some. She sets a hand on her shoulder, "Y'always know what-" she breaks off as her cursory once over turns into an alarmed wide eyed stare, "Th'fuck? There's a dart'n yer tail! Siddown! Are ya feelin' wierd, any tinglin'r anything?" She sinks to her haunches and reaches for the offending projectile...

"There's a what?" Cryo turns, coiling her tail to look at it, of course choosing the side that doesn't have a dart stuck in. "Ack, sit? Agg."

She sits, twisting the other way now.

Krom shrugs, sorting out the junk and real coins, putting the later away in the coin pouch, tucking the rest into a seocnd pocket. "They mean well." The northman nods his thanks at the meal, ripping off a chunk of bread to dip into the chili, takinga bite, and after a few chews adding perhaps a third the black powder, stiring it in carefully before takinga second bite. The fuss draws attention, and Krom peers over at the tail dart with idle curiousity.

"I feel fine. Well tired. Not feeling anything else. Not feeling it." Cryo blinks, watching Braelnoir.

Braelnoir creeps a little closer with a little crabwalking on her hooves with Cryosanthia's change in position, "Whoop! Whoa, 'old still, luv s'may sting a bit." A hand curls around the sith's tail a little reluctantly, a furtive glance up toward it's owner, then she reaches out to tug the dart free, "Y'don't?" She doesn't worry so much about the Northman now, as her imediate focus is on the palescale.

The white-scale shakes her head, "No, nothing." The dart seems nicely stuck in a scale, but comes out with a good tug.

"It was there when I came in, Cryo." The human server says.

"What? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought it was a fashion statement," The human server holds up her hands, makes a wavy motion, "oooo, look at me, I'm so tough I've got weapons stuck in me and I don't notice. The Oruchs thought it was cool."

She indicates the orc table, where the pair give thumbs up.

Iskandar opens the door to the tavern with his customary gusto. He steps inside and nods at anyone who so much as looks his way, adding a smile if it's someone he recognizes. "Greetings all," he says as he makes his way towards the bar.

"Hello, welcome to the Fernwood!" The human server cuts the conversation off with the sith-server by diving into work and approaching Iskandar, "Take a seat anywhere. We have Gunpowder Chilli, powdered and powderless options, and all the usual drinks."

Krom considers a moment, taking another bite of bread and chili. "Krom think walking around with a weapon stuck in your -would- be tough... but not practial. Scars are better." He raises a mug of ale in greeting to the giantborn before taking a swig. The northman is still covered in mud, but it's dry enough to not really be spreading around.

Cryo stares at the dart that Braelnoir is holding. It looks like a normal pub, dartboard dart. Her mouth tightens and she huffs. "I'm sure someone thought it was very funny. I've gotten stickers before. Not darts."

Braelnoir gives the girl a flat 'Are you f'ing serious, now?' look up over her handful of dart before she rises to her full height, "Ne'ermind it could be poison, or...." She looks studiously at the offensive object, "Kae ever tell ya what these darts her gizmo spews look like, luv?" she asides. Her tail is twitching in ill-ease and sort of keeping near her legs. There's an offhand, "Luv me a good scar, f'its got the right story b'hind it."

"Wine!" Iskandar says, smiling broadly at the server. Once it's delivered he takes it in his hand and turns to watch the conversation, doing his best to guess what they were discussing. Some conversations take longer to catch up than others though, and so Iskandar decides to wait and listen more before joining in.

The human server looks at Braelnoir with fear in her eyes, "Kae, the dragon? I don't go near her. I'm a ... very appealing to dragons. I don't know what her darts look like. Um, busy." She quickly gets Iskandar his wine order.

Krom peers a moment longer, and shrugs. "Krom think someone threw poorly, too embarrased to mention. Do not assume malice when stupidity is likely."

Braelnoir gives the serving girl a sort of withering glare, "After all this time? Still?" then slaps the dart on the bar, "Unbelievable." The chimera turns to the sith and looks her over and, "Join me fer a bite, sis?" she says softly with a little smile, albeitly, a slightly forced one. Then she looks the place over before making her way to a table with her breakfast.

Cryosanthia nods, she tells the Bartender, "Going on break."

She moves with Braelnoir over to a table and sits. She keeps her tail pulled in.

Iskandar raises the wine to his lips for a sip. When he lowers the glass it reveals a half-smile. Probably at Krom's words, because he looks at the warrior and nods. "Wise words!" he booms. Then he lowers his voice slightly. "The wisdom of the north, perhaps? You said you're from the north, right?"

Krom nods. "Mestnorr, most north. Though think is a southern saying." Krom considers a few moments. "Does not sound like Grandma's wisdoms, they are usually more threatening. 'Respect your elders, or Grandma will kick your ass.'"

Braelnoir lifts a hand to wave at Iskandar, though she was still in her original body when last they met. She snerks at the Dranei's remark and settles into her own seat, mindful of her own tail, which curls around her feet, "She like that t'ya all the time, Cryo...?"

Iskandar finishes off his wine and smacks his lips softly. He sets the glass on the counter along with a few coins. Then he smiles at those present, and nods once more. "I just remembered something I was supposed to do before the night is over. Farewell all!"

"She's fine." Cryo says, slumped but still occupying a lot of space. She traces her Arcane Mark on the table with a fingertip, and it flares and lays down again. "Aff! She's Alexandrian so you'd think she would be used to it all, but she's got a preference for 'non-weird' things, as she puts it. She showed me the ropes when I started, although there's not a lot, remember the table and the order, don't trip."

"Bye!" The human server waves as Iskandar leaves. The Bartender looks over at Krom, "Food good? Need more drink?"

Cryo waves a hand in farewell, takes up a glass of water and drinks.

Krom nods around a mouthful of bread, chewing a moment before swallowing. "More wine, thank you." He considers a few moment, forwning mildly. "Krom does not recall, do you have hot baths here?"

Braelnoir frowns a bit more and sighs, shaking her head. A hand reaches out for Cryo's for a light touch. A fond smile and a gentle pat, "What's eatin' ya, luv...?" She looks to the Northerner a moment at his question, then, "Best'n the district." then, back for the sith's response.

"Yes, we do, certain rooms." The Bartender nods, "We have one available for the night."

The sith-makar lets her hand be taken, she looks up and smiles awkwardly. "Still bothered by things I wish I'd done differently, with those Kobolds. Said more at the time, more at their grave. I've been by that goblin settlement outside of Merkabah, where they're building the airship. Tried to find an Arvec in charge to speak to, let them know Mictlan was willing to help. Got passed around, eventually someone who would speak to me, but it was all his grand plans for a couple hours and thanks we don't need you. Felt like I shouldn't have bothered."

Krom nods. "Krom would rent room, have bath. But not until midnight. Not to remove blood of Winter King until third day." Yes, if one cares to look close, there's traces of blood under that mud.

Braelnoir frowns a little, "I never got th'full story, I was too..." she glances sidelong somewhere else a moment, abashed, then looks hopefully, if weakly up to her eyes again, "But.. I'm... I'm here, now an'.... I wanna help." She can't help but hear the Winter King comment and glance the man's way for a new assessment, a mere moment, then back to Cryo, "

"Wait! What? The Winter King? You killed the Fae Queen's Consort?" Cryosanthia's head pops up, she calls across the bar, "The Tower is no more? Kor Demontry defeated as well, the Magic Plague broken?"

Krom blinks a Cyro, and shakes his head. "No no, it's spring. Krom is the ErlKing's champion, set to watch the killing is only cerimonial. Now the Court of Spring reigns until the solstice. Fake death, real blood."

Braelnoir blinks. Wow, that's a kill claim for sure. Well, at least claiming to be in the splash zone, anyway. Then the northman's explanation brings her curiosity to it's standard ebb and she shrugs, "Lotta ceremonies up thattaway like that. When all the best beer comes out, though." she observes.

"Oh. This one apologizes. Peace be upon your nest." Cryo exhales and leans back, curling her head and stare upwards, then leans forwards and rests on her elbows. "An explorer's guild mission went bad. Kobolds. They were pathetic, it was like fighting younglings. I scared them and took a prisoner, they ran off. While I was deciding what to do, a bird on the team killed the prisoner. I buried them a few days ago. It's... fine. I think."

Krom nods in agreement to Braelnoir. "Very little beer at fae parties. Little patience for agriculture. Mead and wine, hard ciders... shroom brews... Krom tries to avoid the exotic drinks, is usually supposed to be standing guard." He nods to Cryo, frowning mildly. "Harm to one in your care is... troubleing, even if know it was not your fault."

Braelnoir shifts a little bit in her seat, but nods, "That kinda thing happens time t'time. More ol'life than guild work, though." she says softly. She keeps her grip on Cryo's hand, a little squeeze, then, "It ain't the same's killin' in the fight, but that... ain't wa'nt yer doin'. Takin' care of'm.... was a good thing t'do." Her attention is drawn to the northman again, a close mouthed smile given his way as she nods.

As Byvinodr ducks under the main entrance he gently closes the door behind him careful to not damage the door in anyway. With a deep breath he makes his way to the main bar area, moving deliberately almost cautiously not to run into any of the patrons or servicing staff members. He grants a smile to some of the people that seem to be looking his way, curious about this massive man, perhaps giantborn are not common in these parts.

"Well... it is not the experience I am accustomed to." The white-scale sith says, shaking her head a little. "In battle would have been better. It was too much like fighting children. I would not have gone, had I know. At best, I did what I could and scared off most of them. That will have to do."

Krom frowns, but nods, and takes a bite of his smelly cheese, apaprently having nothing productive to add. As Byvinodr arrives, the northman raises a hand in greeting.

"That was a kindness, then. Yer... a good soul, luv." Brae replies, pat-patting the sith's hand and looking up toward the sound of the door and... Don't see too many that big this far south. The silver lining his pate gets a studious lookover, then she gives the Jotun a polite nod.

"Thanks." Cryo follows Braelnoir's gaze, seeing Byvinodr enter. She looks back at Braelnoir, "I spoke with Ezil about it, it helped. I will have to ask to carefully on the next Guild jobs."

"What type of stew? Oh, please. Biggest bowl yeh got, quite hungry you see. Long travels." Byvinodr nods his heads into more of a thankful bowing. "I do hope its little trouble." With a wide friendly smile he returns the wave to Krom, then he acknowledges Braelnoir with another nod. "How is the mead? Dark? Yes, yes."

Braelnoir nods sagely, "Best that way. Once ya take th'job..." she trails off with a little shrug, then reaches out to partake of her breakfast before the chilli gets too cold, "Anyway... I'm... I'm sorry I's too caught up'n my own business when ya needed help, too." Krom look to By, curious. "Long travels? From where? Is still early in the year for trips."

Getting his order in Byvinodr leaves the bar area and approaches Kroms table so he doesnt have to shout across the room. "Well, it is small fortified city of Thuaidh. Not many visit, more north than capital by a good many miles." Nodding as he finds a proper chain that wouldn't buckle under his weight.

"It's okay Braelnoir, I know you were dealing with something. It was bad." Cryo smiles, leaning across and nudging her plate, "You should eat up, the goblin chilli explodes when it's been out too long."

Braelnoir nods, expression falling to her own demons for a moment before she shakes her head and takes a bite. Another. She swallows and reaches for her beer as the two large men get acquainted. It's nice to see folks from up north, but she lets them to it. Likely be able to catch them a bit later to swap news, but in the meantime, "Kae still in'er shell?"

Cryo nods, "I haven't seen her. Same as before. Leave food out, it goes, no answer when you knock on the door. Everyone is afraid to force it in case there's some yawning chasm to chaos on the other side. Until there's some indication we're going to keep leaving the leftovers for her and hoping."

Krom nods. "Thuaidh... Krom has heard the name, but knows little. What brings you to the southlands this time of year?"

With a troubled sigh, Byvinodr takes the large tankard from a younger woman which hurries off to another table. "There was a siege you see. Orcish and giant-kind, we almost lost the city. Came south with caravan of Althean dedicates. Some traders as well, the city stable now.

Braelnoir frowns, considering the alternatives. After all, her own diet changed radically when she was transformed and only recently ebbed closer to 'normal'. The thought Kaelyn's mind is lost in the body gives her a shiver, but it's just as likely she's that deep in her gizmos and she wills herself to latch onto the hope that that's what is keeping the artificer isolated. "How's Merek doin'? Seen anything outta him, lately?" 'Siege'.... despite Brae's intent to focus on her sister, 'siege' has a particular hook to it. A hook she's too overtrained to completely ignore. She looks over the sith's shoulder, narrowing her eyes for a moment, until he establishes the fighting has cooled, and she relaxes back into her seat.

The palescale sith-makar shakes her head, "This one hasn't seen Merek. He promised Elleandra to deliver a message for her to Veyshan, he may have left for that. I did see him the morning after at the Library. He said all the diagrams had been cut out of the books, but that wouldn't be a problem he'd go find books elsewhere. I'm not sure he's completely in this plane, he seems distracted and oblvious half the time and nothing seems to be an obstacle in his mind."

She turns her head to look at the other two, "Something important they're talking about?"

Krom frowns and nods. "Winter seige are worst. None are good, on either side."

Braelnoir squirms in her seat and scratches the back of her neck, "Sorry, luv... Apparantly th'big fella come from a town fought off a siege up north. Sieges tend t'get messy, cold makes it worse. Most folk steer clear o'that sorta thing'n winter months unless they really got a wild hair across their asses, but't sounds like they settled things ok." she looks a little embarassed and genuinely contrite. But, back to Merek, "Yeah... he does seem a little... past things, sometimes, now thatcha mention it." The reply from the giantborn brings something like her typical, feral grin to her lips, then she raises a hand, "Oy, luv, get 'em a big pitcher of yer best!" pointing toward the big guy's table.

"We had good weather and plenty a'foods for years. Prosperity is a beacon to the dark ones." Byvinodr frowns as he takes a healthy pull from his tankard. "We never find the cause of the ill magic that began to sour our prosperity. But we shattered the backs of the hordes. By the grace of the lady Althea." He settles in as a strong lad brings a metric ton of stew for the jotun. It brings a grand smile to his face as his stomach growls mightily.

"Ah," Cryo nods, taking a spoon and a bit of chilli from the bowl, "I had to dig that out of him, at first he told me he wasn't finished and he'd tell me later, so I wanted to know why. Sorry I couldn't get that, or the lack of it to you."

"I also visited Asmli, not sure if you know him. He lost a leg, Guild expedition. I took a message to his family. The guild also hadn't paid him, he didn't check in with their accountants that he returned. Went straight to the Soldier's Defense."

Krom nods. "Thre are those who make things, and those who consume them, and most society balance the two. Ill is the society that only consumes."

Raising his tankard to Braelnoir in thanks, Byvinodr smiles. "Salute to you. This mead takes edges off!" A bellowing chuckle flows from his throat, seemingly startling a couple of gnomish near by. "Sorry to little ones." He settles in as he takes a large wooden spoon up for a large helping of stew.

Braelnoir's face falls as she looks to Cryo and she nods with her lips pressed into a grim line, "Worked with'm before. Tha's rough... Solid guy, too." She edges her bowl closer to Cryo to share and continues to dig in, herself, "Hope th'Guild ain't plannin' t'screw'm." Bad business, that. As for the rest, "Well.. nothin' for it now. I was... kinda in a hurry about that mess." She gives the Jotun a wink and returns the salute in kind before taking a swig.

Cryo raises her glass to the other too, even though it's a glass of water, then takes another spoonful of chilli. "I did also, a job with him. Guarding a caravan, collecting the fingerbones of St. Ardtan. It's where I met Nels actually, when she was a goblin guy. Had a nice riding dog. Demon monks killed the dog, and we chased them through a forest, then they got away."

She takes another sip, "I don't think the guild was deliberately screwing him, just, being incompetent. He's getting a replacement made, we talked about things it might do. He could use a visitor, cheer him up, if you get a chance."

A quiet and quite oddly polite eater, Byvinodr continues on his meal seemingly listening to conversations around him as he fills his belly. Taking the new pitcher from the same young waitress which once again rushes off. "Thanks to you." He grants a wide friendly smile with a bow of his head to Braelnoir and Cryosanthia.

Braelnoir nods, "Not sure how much sunshine I'll be, but yeah, I'll look in on'm'. Ya said the Soldier's Defense?" She scoops up some more chilli, then takes another swig before she catches the bow of the Jotun's head and she smiles, then, to Cryo, "If ya still need a place t'sleep... ain't sure if ya got yer own place, but if ya need, you can crash with me."

"That sounds good," Cryo says, her tail twitching happily, "Much appreciated. I can leave the staff room for someone else tonight. I should help clean up in the kitchen a little bit, then I'll be ready, and it's the Soldier's Defense, yes."

The sith-makar rises and circulates around, picking up some dishes from various tables and taking them into the back.

Dramatis Personae

Byvinodr
Mountainous, Gargantuan, Massive! Quite a large person. Nearly casting shadows of a tower in motion. There is a certain purposeful grace in his wide, muscular and powerful frames stance, well practiced, almost serene.
From the top of his broad head this man wears his hair in a tight complex braid falls to the middle of his back. However, the left and right-side of his head is shaved, exposing a complex knot-work of tattoos in a metallic-silver which sweeps across his broad forehead down to his neck. From root to end of each fibre of hair is deep navy blue yet under direct light a silvery sheen plays across the surface. In a stark contrast to the dark hair, his skin is an ivory white as if he arose from the driven snow, shimmering when the light from the sun and moon bathe the earth. On his face, his nose is sharp angular well per-portioned, even if quite broad compared to smaller folk. Striking sapphire blue eyes sparkle with a youthful exuberance, a spark of life shimmers within, peaceful yet holding a burning intensity. A manicured beard with the same braiding and coloring of his hair casts no further than bottom of his thick neck.
Across his expansively muscular chest is a series of overlapping fine white leather plates held fast with rivets of brass. Upon each plate are well carved portraits of the goddess of Althea. A thick white and blue plaid linen cloak is draped dramatically across his shoulders secured with a polished brass cloak clasp. Well tailored white and blue stripped trousers with the same linen material adorn his tree like legs. Tucked into red calf wraps into mahogany brown heavy boots.