Post by Shamoke on Aug 5, 2012 9:58:17 GMT -5
"Lovely."
Upon close inspection, handsome is an understatement for this Elf. It is obvious that he is descended from a bloodline of some mystical race beyond just Elven. His silver eyes sparkle in the sun. His long black hair flows gracefully in the wind. He is well-groomed, often looking at himself in a handheld mirror to make sure everything is in its proper place. He wears a full, perfectly trimmed beard. Those who ask about it are told the tale of how he received it, and he often refers to it as a "Trophy." He stands tall and proud, his height at 6 ft even.
If one looks closely, it is clear that his armor is otherworldly. It bears the appearance of golden mithril, but those who stare will see the armor move of its own accord, its colors shimmering when it does so. There are no buckles or straps, and it seems as though the armor is a part of him. This becomes more apparent if one looks to his face, for one will see flecks of what looks like golden mithril underneath his skin. These flecks will surface, disappear, and resurface somewhere else. To some it is disturbing, and to others it is beautiful. When asked about it, he refers to it as "she" or "her," and describes the metal as "Spellplate." He will often look down at the breastplate, and converse openly with it.
His arms and legs, when exposed, have many tattoos, the ink predominantly green and gold. The origins of these tattoos are mostly arcane runes. On the right side of his neck, there is a tattoo of a dagger, and underneath it, written in Chondathan, it says "Born of Amn." On the left side of his neck, there is a shooting star, and underneath it, written in Elven, it says "Reborn of Cormyr." On his upper back, there is a tattoo, written in large and flowing script, which reads in common as "Feyleaf."
There are no sheathes or books on his person, though he will conjure a staff or a scimitar when he is about to leave town. He will also flick his left wrist to conjure a large, blue energy shield. It hums and thrums loudly, and in the middle of it shimmers a symbol of Mystra. In town, he is more likely to conjure a smoking pipe, a bottle of ale, or a flask of whiskey.
Upon close inspection, handsome is an understatement for this Elf. It is obvious that he is descended from a bloodline of some mystical race beyond just Elven. His silver eyes sparkle in the sun. His long black hair flows gracefully in the wind. He is well-groomed, often looking at himself in a handheld mirror to make sure everything is in its proper place. He wears a full, perfectly trimmed beard. Those who ask about it are told the tale of how he received it, and he often refers to it as a "Trophy." He stands tall and proud, his height at 6 ft even.
If one looks closely, it is clear that his armor is otherworldly. It bears the appearance of golden mithril, but those who stare will see the armor move of its own accord, its colors shimmering when it does so. There are no buckles or straps, and it seems as though the armor is a part of him. This becomes more apparent if one looks to his face, for one will see flecks of what looks like golden mithril underneath his skin. These flecks will surface, disappear, and resurface somewhere else. To some it is disturbing, and to others it is beautiful. When asked about it, he refers to it as "she" or "her," and describes the metal as "Spellplate." He will often look down at the breastplate, and converse openly with it.
His arms and legs, when exposed, have many tattoos, the ink predominantly green and gold. The origins of these tattoos are mostly arcane runes. On the right side of his neck, there is a tattoo of a dagger, and underneath it, written in Chondathan, it says "Born of Amn." On the left side of his neck, there is a shooting star, and underneath it, written in Elven, it says "Reborn of Cormyr." On his upper back, there is a tattoo, written in large and flowing script, which reads in common as "Feyleaf."
There are no sheathes or books on his person, though he will conjure a staff or a scimitar when he is about to leave town. He will also flick his left wrist to conjure a large, blue energy shield. It hums and thrums loudly, and in the middle of it shimmers a symbol of Mystra. In town, he is more likely to conjure a smoking pipe, a bottle of ale, or a flask of whiskey.