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" Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it. "
- George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones.
Nickname/Alias: Many think to find amusement in taunting remarks based on his nature and mannerisms, with such noteworthy examples as "grumpy man" or "cold one." He has since grown impartial to these quips. "Pomf," to a single person.
Full Titles: Wrathslayer / Sorrowslayer. Kinslayer. The only others are reminders of past glories to a man that does not particularly wish to relive them. Former Marshall of the Inquistion, Former Lord of House Varyn and Fortress Oren.
| KEY INFORMATION |
Age: Precise number has ceased to be recorded. Estimation is that of being within a range of mid-forties.
Gender: Male, as is justified without any inkling of doubt.
Race: Human, does not belong to any certain culture.
Social Status: As with his given titles, the man has fallen from any elevated position of renown. He owns no land, he is not a leader of people. That being said, there is a natural evidence within the way he carries and presents himself that he is far leagues from belonging to the lower caste. The swiftest means of earning his distaste is to flaunt worth presumed by social rankings.
Sexuality: Heterosexual. He does not think it worthwhile enough to ridicule any differing preference, albeit.
Height: Regardless of the lack of blood relation, the gods had seen to deem it appropriate that Syr be alike to a proper son of Gelyk. Measures at a solid 6'3" at full height.
Weight: Through his time of dropping from the face of the earth, Syr has sought to regain what he had physically lost following the loss of a hand and Gelyk. Weighs in at approximately 223 base pounds.
Date of Birth: The Twenty-First Day of Stormwind, Season of Frost.
Date of Death: Alive, thus marking this inapplicable.
Homeland: An unknown and disregarded village, secluded within the depths of a thick and snowy forest. This was lost a world or so ago.
Current Home: Welcomed in a handful of regions across the Northern boundaries, ranging from Irrcrawn to Frostwood Watch. No longer does he have any eminent holding to refer to as his own.
| PHYSIOLOGY |
Build: There is no mistaking Syr for being a remarkably large man, both in stature and size. He claims naturally broad shoulders and long, thick arms, likely inherited from his father. He has undergone extensive efforts to solidify his visible muscle mass once more, aided in that the entirety of his upper body is significant in inherent bulkiness. Accordingly, he is built for dense, bulky slabs of musculature rather than toning. Built for physical strength and power rather than brisk, agile bodily control.
Hair: Darkened shade of brown in colour, nearly appearing black from remaining dormant within the north for such an extended period of time. He has become quite alike to a bear, being that his hair has grown to trail beyond shoulder length and the ashy, unkempt beard on the lower portions of his face would see to rival the animal's hide. Neither of these two facets of growth are tended to in an overly embellished way, or prepared for ceremonious events.
Eyes: Syr's eyes are, without a doubt, his most prominent facial feature. They are distinct and blended in a hard shade of blue-grey, near always conveying a strikingly cold, calculating presence. If Syr were to focus his gaze, it often inspires an unsettling feeling or discomfort. This is primarily due to the unwavering and unwelcoming expression they hold, though also because he studies what he sees. They have, on more than one occasion, been described as a 'gathering storm.'
Skin: It has degraded to a sickeningly pale tone, though retains its fashion of being rough and weather-beaten.
Identifying Marks: The whole of himself is not frequently mistook. In terms of scarring, there is more littering his body than could be counted. The most distinguished of such is a thin, deep scar running from the top right portion of his lip to the bottom - impeding the hair growth there a slight ways. Beneath his right eye is a similar scar, fainter in appearance. The pair is a result of a beast of the North during a hunt with his deceased son. To remove his clothing presents damage of flame along the left side of his torso and back, accompanied by deep scars of laceration. This is largely due to the creation of his former Evocation focus. Drafted and forged by the mind and hand of Jaret Ironbrow, where Syr once bore only a stump in place of a right hand, the casing of a metal hand now rests, securely strapped and buckled to his forearm beneath clothing. It is made possible to close the fingers by means of flexing his forearm, as the expansion of muscles triggers a series of inner workings to make this occur.
Appearance: Overall, Syr offers a rather harsh company, serious and phlegmatic. This is because of his natural stoic expression, and that he tends to hide any indications of worry or fear behind such (through much practice, initially at a young age). All of this is, of course, accompanied by the rare time he is smiling. Silently brooding, if you will. Due to his large stature and build, as well as everything coupled with himself, it is determinable he is a Northerner.
Clothing: Generally anything that is warm and suitable to the conditions of the North, often accented by a heavy fur cloak and bits of armour to protect himself (shoulder guards, bracers, etc.). Do note that, seeing as he is a fairly sturdy man, his body allows this extra slight protection without excessive tiring. This is not always beneficial and has been more of a hassle than a perk in certain occasions, most especially as it is more of a struggle for Syr to remove it himself with only a single hand.
Weaponry: His noteworthy efforts to retrain his left hand in swordsmanship have been unyielding and hard-won, yet rewarding. A standard bastard sword rests in a sheath at his right hip, himself now claiming the skill to wield it in proper confrontation.
Prized Possessions: Various weapons acquired over his lifetime, as well as anything from his lost children or special items from Mia. His ward key. A neatly folded letter.
Hygiene: While he does make an effort to keep himself clean and presentable in hygiene, he is not concerned to overindulge with such.
Voice: Comparative to Commander Mormont, in Game of Thrones. Watch [this] clip for an example.
| QUALITIES AND FLAWS |
Strengths: Syr is extremely competent with his ability to read others, due to his own nature and customary way of doing this. The loss of his right hand only inspired him to further apply this talent, it progressing considerably during the time he refused to accept a sword in his left hand. Being capable of masking his own thoughts and feelings without a struggle to do so is handy. Very observant, recognizing and acknowledging seemingly minor or unimportant details. Fair judgement, and a far stretch from being considered foolish. Respectable combatant in the eyes of many, regardless of his deficiency.
Fears: There is a surprisingly extensive amount of fears that he holds. However, he is accustomed and practiced at concealing these. To reveal a minor fear would present varied reactions, depending on what it is. There are, at the least two, that would absolutely break and devastate him should they become a reality. As such, he will do near anything to prevent these from occurring. This means that if you wish to learn them, they are to be discovered through RP. The realization that he will never quite be the same physically.
Weaknesses: Syr's largest strength - a defining part of who he was - had been taken away from himself. His swordplay, still, is not anywhere near to what it once was, and may not ever reach that degree again. Though he now claims the metal hand, there is still the issue of growing accustomed and at ease with wielding it. While this may allow him to perform more tasks than a singular hand, it may not be to as precise a manner as others. It is somewhat clunky as of now. Heavy, awkward. He holds a significant and blatant loyalty to family and those he cares deeply about, and there's a possibility this could be exploited by some. He is not a particularly stealthy person, nor is this a favoured method of approaching things. Vulnerable to cripple jests. Is a father to a bastard girl. Should the correct thread be struck, his emotions can shine free and affect the aforementioned judgement. Softness for women and children. Has a difficult time of allowing people to grow close to himself. Stubborn, in a sense.
Intelligence: As the Inquisition permitted such, he is fortunate to be able to read well, and write - if sloppy with his left hand. However, he does not have the mind of a scientist or mathematician. That said, once more, he is no fool. He has lived an eventful life, subject and witness to many valuable lessons that have shaped himself and his thinking.
Languages: The Common tongue, limited bits of Elven. Despite likely having the opportunity to learn in detail due to Elven friends throughout his life, he is aware of only simple phrases.
Profession: None in particular. The Inquisition and his time of being nobility have... generously weighed his pockets, mind.
| ETHICS AND MOTIVATIONS |
Religion or Cults: The whole of the Pantheon is recognized in his view, and in following the death of Skeira, no deity is viewed with particular fondness to himself.
Alignment: True-Neutral, based on the results of the alignment test.
Short Term Goals: Grow comfortable to the use of his metal hand.
Long Term Goals: Raise a new holding.
This character was created on April 8th, 2013.
Played, currently, on the account of Dayshark.
Obviously, anything your character wouldn't legitimately know is not to be used in-character.
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