Corvus
Appearance
Corvus is best described as a mountain of a man. Tall, broad shouldered, and possessed of the strength of a man from the rugged, mountainous islands in the North-East, he's far from what you'd expect from the human stock of Alliria. His dark eyes stare out from beneath leather helms, and furs line the armor with which he garbs himself.
Most look at him as a mercenary at best, and an uneducated barbarian at worst. There's little about his appearance that dispels this, save for the fact his longsword was crafted by what was obviously a master artisan.
Skills and Abilities
+ Man At Arms: Trained from a young age in the art of combat, he's a skilled hand with axes, swords and shields. Most others he's at least passingly familiar with, and he won't find them a hindrance if picked up in the heat of combat.
+ Huntsman: Food has to be put on the table somehow, and stocking up on meat for the winter was one of the few ways to survive. He can track with the best, and is competent with a bow. While not a born-and-raised archer like those often conscripted into military service, he can, quite literally, put food on the table.
- Mistakes: They continue to haunt him. Sleep can be elusive. Companionship more so. There's a lot of walls, and even more trauma. Most of the time it only manifests itself while alone at night, but that doesn't mean he's above a public episode.
- Uneducated: He knows nothing of higher learning. Illiterate and lacking in knowledge, most of his world view is centered around what he's seen in his life. This manifests itself as a tendency to be xenophobic and distrusting to those who don't fit the familiar mold he grew up around. Worldly travels have softened this, but not eliminated it.
Personality
Hard-working. Honest. Loyal. He once picked fights almost daily, but time and death have seen him tempered into a man who only fights when pressed, rather than whenever he's needled.
Biography & Lore
Born between the Isles of Sheketh and the Tundra to the North, his people trudged through a hardy existence on mossy mountain slopes and in craggy fjords. Fish and game were their primary sources of meat, same as many other villages, but their primary source of wealth came from the raids they went on. They didn't do this out of spite, or greed.
Rather, they were often hired. This mercenary lifestyle meant pay was often taken in the form of loot and slaves. They formed a reputation where they raided, but they're little more than hearsay to the West of the Spine. Boogeymen, come to land on the shores in fog, pillaging before vanishing, leaving flames at their back.
The truth is more tame, and it's in the familiar familial atmosphere of the snow forests that Corvus was born and raised. His life as a mercenary was punctuated by brawls in taverns, fast friendships and even quicker enemies. In time, he married into wealth, to the surprise of many.
What didn't surprise them was that the marriage soon turned loveless, and his wife wasted away to disease. Their adopted daughter, said to dabble in dark magics, became the inheritor of the extensive land-wealth of his wife and her adopted mother.
Without a home and without a family, he set to leave the islands and travel, to make his name and coin elsewhere. He is joined in his journey by Scalf, a snow wolf he'd found as a pup, caught in a trap and nearly bled to death. Nursing it enough to set it free with confidence, Scalf always hung around the village, but never stayed.
Somehow, on the trail out of the village, Scalf found him, perhaps sensing it was time for Corvus to lead his own pack rather than follow in the footsteps of another. They've been inseparable ever since, fighting their way through bandits in the Wilds, the Delta, across the Spine and now down into the Reach.
He's left his past behind, but like an arrow fired at a retreating army, it's only a matter of time before he feels the familiar sting of regret piercing him between the shoulders.