Name: Aundair Ivellos
Appearance: Slightly above average height, Aundair boasts fair skin, strong jaw and a built frame. This is quite deceiving as he is quite young. Dark blonde hair cut thin on the sides and longer up top match well with his storm gray eyes. Considered handsome, but not as much as to send people swooning. Broad shoulders and arms move with a flowing grace, strange as he tends to be quite clumsy when not fighting. He has a loud but light voice. His armor is humble but efficient. Dark leather jerkin and legs with steel strips across the upper chest. A gray hooded cloak and a black belt grace this ensemble. His helm however is quite the opposite of humble. When his father died, Aundair took his meager fortune and commissioned himself a helm to be remembered after a battle. Bright, burnished steel with a round back and top, the faceplate is the most impressive (for lack of a better word). The large eye holes exhibiting his grey eyes, are emblazoned with celtic style knotwork. Below this is a solid piece of metal sliding down and ending just after his jaw at a point. The helm face has a crest that begins at the point so that the middle of the helm's front is a vertical ridge. (I found a picture of what I wanted for the helm, not sure how you wanted the image given, all rights reserved, i claim no ownership for this in any way shape or form.)
s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals..Age(20 and up): 20
Gender: Male
Race(Human, Wood Elf, Dark Elf, Dwarf): Human
Rank:(No rank higher than Knight-Lieutenant): Initiate
Personality: Jolly and always ready to crack a joke, Aundair is rarely seen without a smile. He is bold, brash, eager to prove himself, and dedicated to upholding his family's honor. He is the first to grab a beer and the last to surrender. Almost to a point of fault.
Bio: Born in a small human town, he was always a happy child. His mother died in child birth of his younger brother Ricard, so the brothers grew up with only their blacksmith father and the town to raise them. Aundair grew up on tales of heroes and maidens. Kings and queens. Chivalry and honor. At a young age, Aundair decided to become one of the many men that he had heard of. "Some day, songs will be sung about me!" He would always say. He was quick to make a friend and held onto them for a long time. His brother Ricard was .... less inclined. Ricard was always looking for a fight and this got the two into a good number of scraps. Mischief turned to misdemeanor as Ricard took bigger and bigger prey and, as always, Aundair would bail him out. More than once Aundair caught himself dueling a noble who felt slight after Ricard caught the fancy of a handmaiden or two. After a while Aundair became quite well known in his small town as a champion for those who couldn't defend themselves. Unfortunately Ricard became worse and worse until he fell into a debt that he couldn't repay. When the men came to collect, the only one at their family's cottage was their father. Upon returning home, Aundair and Ricard found their father slain upon the floor. The two brothers set upon the group of men and got their revenge but at a terrible price. Nearing the end of the fight, Ricard was shot by a crossbow bolt and died on the spot. Engorged with rage, Aundair hung the archer from a nearby tree and left his home, never to return. Soon after leaving, he found the Knights of The Dawn Covenant and joined up with little questions. He has been a part of them ever since
Weapons(Primary, Secondary, Tertiary): He has a long steel (similar to a rapier, but thicker) with a swept hilt sitting on his left hip and a short steel with a crossguard on his left, common in dueling communities. A throwing dagger is in a sheath on his right boot.
Magic: He has never had much interest in magic and instead throws himself wholly into sword play
Other: A recognized bard, he plays his lute around fires to warm the hearts of his friends
Post Example: A group of initiates were telling ghost stories around a campfire when they heard the sound of a cracking branch behind them
"Umm what was that?" asked Rune, the youngest of the group
"That isn't cool. Don't play games with me right now." replied Burke, the oldest of the initiates. "I'm trying to tell a story, and you're freaking me out."
"OOGLY BOOGL...!!" A hooded figure jumped from behind a tree and began to shout but apparently his trick surprised Burke more than he had expected. The wildly swinging fist crashed into his stomach and the hooded man crumpled to the ground momentarily
"Holy heck, you've got an arm" laughed the hooded form
Burke rocked back on his stump roaring in laughter and the other initiates joined him soon after "Aundair, you must know that sometimes I really hate you." Burke managed between gasping for breaths and expelling huge hearty laughs "I nearly spilled my ale"
"Oh shut up, you were telling the tale of Grimwald, there was no way that I could let that opportunity pass" Snorted Aundair, pulling his hood down and standing up. He nodded to the new initiates and brushed off a snowy log to sit down. "Besides, you're telling it wrong. This, is the right way to tell it." He smiled as he leaned in and began to talk. The wind howled through the trees, but kinship and joy were the only things felt at that fire on that night.
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