Solidor Sunwell

Biographical information

Birthplace where were they born Born Died Age 55 Home Unspecified Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Human... Sub-Race Gender Male Height 6'10 Mass 230 lbs. Hair color Snow white, with streaks of gold throughout Eye color A stark sky gray, which changes to gold during combat Skin color Olive Skin

Political information

Affiliation(s) Paladins of the Platinum Dragon Bahamut Occupation Mercenary, traveller Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer Thomas Grier Created on 06/06/19 Avatar

Long, shoulder length shock white hair tied back from his face with a simple leather cord. Flecks and streaks of gold throughout. A large, muscular frame compliments what was once a handsome face, but has been scarred over the years. Not with physical scars, but a torturous pain is seen in what is a much too wrinkle lined face for his age. Storm gray eyes peer out from a hard, angular face with a permanent and decent amount of stubble, with a nose that has been broken ,straightened, and rebroken over the years. A tall, massive frame is adorned with unadorned gray metal plate armor, void of etchings, insignias, or anything else that would signify glory of any kind. What could once be called a cloak but now is a patched and holed excuse for a shroud covers this armor, emitting a unique stench of earth, blood, and fear hides Solidors stoic face from view. The only remarkable thing about him is a long, silver chained necklace hanging over the front of his armor, and the massive greatsword that is strapped to his back. The necklace is made of a gleaming silver that never seems to dull. The chain is holding an insignia shaped like a roaring lionshead that tapers down to a point at the bottom. To each side of the lions roaring head, the insignia has rough edges, almost as if something was snapped off from each side.

The sword. Oh, the sword. Like a broken promise or a fallen dream, this sword looks like a memory that has been tarnished in its retelling, a shadow of its former glory. But some glory still remains. A white leather hilt wrapped in gold wire, with a lionshead pommel that looks very familiar to the necklace Solidor wears. A golden cross-guard etched with lavish inscriptions of a lost language is followed by a hand width blade of purest silver, further adorned with inscriptions that are so lavish to the untrained eye they could be seen as pieces of art themselves. However, this sword is a shadow of what it once seemed to be. Everything about it seems dull, like half of the light has been sucked from it. The silver is dull and non-reflective. The white leather hilt is dirty. The inscriptions have years upon years of dust, dirt, and blood deeply clogging them. Whereas the sword once was something beautiful by nature, and killing with it was considered an art form of the highest purity, it now stands as a testament to what once was, and what will never be again. A simple tool used for the most base form of vengeance and release.

- Masterful swordsman, also proficient with various other weapons
- Various healing spells (that he rarely uses anymore)
- Misty Step (Ability to teleport small distances)
- Ability to imbue his strikes with Radiant energy
- Uncanny ability to sense undead

(What is your character's personality? Are they mean? Charismatic? Rude? Do they have any quirks?)