A stocky and athletic build has been cultivated and refined. A seasoned veteran who takes his practice seriously. His left shoulder slightly raised in comparison to the other. His wielding hand. Militant in stance, stoic in visage. Scars have carved their way into his skin, a few have taken rest on his cheek and jaw. Many more litter his body. Eyes of cunning basil supported by sharp cheek bones coax many to speak true.

Skilled in the arts of wrestling, CQC, spells that raise and lay rest to those dead or dying, and his Great Mace, The Pneuma Repose. Crafted onto the flos of his hammer is a circular pattern of a castles battlement. Underneath the battlement rest 4 gargoyles hoisting up each part of the wall. The columna (shaft) of the mace reaches the ground if stood up, also serving as a walking aid.

Luther prides himself on being thorough, militant, focused, and held to high regard and reverence. When he shows face, people know his name. Bold, keen, utilitarianistic, and solitary. He strives to stay within his code, The Greater Good. His focus is on life and death, yin and yang. He's a seasoned exorcist, hunter, and slayer of undead and hellish creatures.

Luther hails from Cerak At'Thul. He was birthed and discarded the same day. Saved by an old compassionate fisherman only a day later, Luther was indebted. Until that man passed on his tenth birthday. Where he was then claimed by the streets of the slaver city. Brigandry, skullduggery, and survival became his new mentors. Three years of gang activity passed before it came to an imprisoned end. Sentenced with innumerable accounts of criminal activity, he was assigned to a slaver transport vessel. He would spend another decade rowpenting and suffering the oceans neutral violence. That vessel later became the target of a prolific pirating company, and they never stood a chance. Only a few, him included, were "saved". Forced to be deckhand and fed once a day living out of a cramped cell. The tides seemed dry. The sun setting. His spirit near depleted. A fortuitous sickness swept the vessel in weeks time, inflicting all who ate from the potato stash from their most recent victim. The slaves were fed scraps, so they were virtually unscathed by the sickness. Mutiny ensued, freedom delivered. Bloodshed. He took to a support vessel and parted ways with the others. He washed up on Cortosi Coast a week later, famished, dehydrated, near death. Fate would have it, a half elven fisherman saved his life. Saleil' Raya adopted Luther and not soon after admitted him to schools, academies, and lectures, forcing him to soak in everything Fal'Addas. For Luther was far behind intellectually. He then became interested in Knighthood. A polar opposite to every life experience he had. At the age of 40 he swore in. Choosing Death and Life has his focus. As was his destiny. Or so he believed. At the age of 55 he finally obtained Knighthood. Syr Luther. Now, 82, The Paled One.