Name:
Iorveth
Race:
Elf
Class:
Warrior/Archer
Age:
265
Appearance: (Pic and Description of at least two paragraphs. No Anime.)
Many people believe that Elves are naturally beautiful. And it appears that someone set out to prove them wrong with Iorveth's face. He doesn't quite recall the fight in which he received the scar that marred the left side of his face, but it was brutal, and obviously, not his own gruesome scar. Standing taller than most elves tend to, lean, muscular and quick beyond compare. Even with one eye missing, he is among the finest bowelves in the world, and without a doubt the finest swordself.
His dark hair seemed to not fit in being long with a long streak of white where the scar was, so he keeps it short. Dressed in simple, utilitarian armor and clothing, with weapons of similar sort, he has the bearing of a man that should have none. And yet, with his powerful presence, he is hard not to notice, unless he is where he was born to be: In the forests. As a rule, the left half of his face is covered in a scarlet headscarf.
Personality:
Cold and calculating, this elf has been at war for so long, he has forgotten what peace feels like. Even being tied to Vergen along with his men feels foreign, although he does not break from his vow, even if he nearly constantly takes it upon himself to lead the scouting missions that many of his squad would be more capable of carrying out, were he to remain.
Charismatic when he needs to be, which is not too often, he knows of the concepts of loyalty and strength of character, abiding by a personal code of conduct, elastic though it may be. However, he knows that all is fair in love and war, and knows that dirty jobs must be done. To keep those that need a purer name than his from getting their hands dirty, he takes on the rough and tough dirty jobs with pleasure.
Weapons:
A two-handed saber
An Elven longbow
Baldric of throwing knives.
Bio: (Three paragraph minimum.)
A war between himself and humans has spanned his entire life, and has had its casualties. A pleasant and delightful Iorveth was one of them. His sense of humor is dry and chilly, making him an unpleasant character if you are a human. While recent events have made him slightly less hateful of the Dh'oine, a lifelong suspicion and hatred, along with thousands dead at his hand, old habits die hard. He still hates the guts of all but a few humans.
Born in a nondescript village inside the forests, he was present, as a child, at many destructions of his people. The massacres, the descriminations, the general dislike of humans for non-humans slowly drove him to what he felt was his calling, defending his people. He was hardly subtle about it, and less of a hero than a fighter that knew what had to be done and did it without qualm in his heart. Indeed, many saw him as more of a common criminal and murderer than a fighter for a cause. Other than his men. He was quickly promoted to commanding a commando unit of the Scoia'tael, and his men knew that his loyalty to them was unquestioned, and only superseded by his dedication to his cause.
Recently, having heard of a young human female that was standing for the rights of non-humans, he decided that she upheld a cause that he found to be honorable, and joined her cause, with it coming to a head as him and his troop helped with the defense of Vergen, and eventual defeat of King Foltest, followed by the same King's declaration of the Upper Aedirn's independence. After that, he accompanied Geralt of Rivia to the Summit of Loc Muinne, and having escaped the meeting with his life, decided to separate his troop from the Scoia'tael as a whole and have them swear allegiance to Queen Saskia of Vergen.
He is currently on a scouting mission to help Saskia determine if she should join in the war effort to ward off the Nilfgaardians.