Name: Pryonn Kharn
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: 
-Height 6'8''
-Weight 324 lbs
He refuses to part with his armor for any reason while within sight of others.
Personality: Pryonn displays a boisterous, downright flamboyant demeanor, espousing virtues of goodness that appear irrational to most. A proud anti-nihilist, the knight views the pursuit of goodness as both means and end, success measured by the amount of own lifeblood spilled in pursuit of 'The Impossible Dream', as he loudly proclaims to follow. So far goes his zeal that he even takes to brightly sing in the thick of battle, surrounded by death and mayhem. To some he would appear almost childish in nature, to others delusional.
Despite his coquettish self-application, the knight harbors a number of fears, the most major being phobias of being directly touched as well as bodily exposure. For this reason, he has rationalised the nigh-perpetual wearing of his suit of plates, a construct crafted for him by his deceased father for a certain purpose.
All too aware of his own shortcomings, he is not above admitting them if they are pointed out. Eager to put a veil upon his flaws, the knight will instead stand tall, holding high the tattered remnants of his banner and charge to whatever end he may meet.
Brief Backstory: The spawn of a secret affair between a valiant knight (mother) and a lowly blacksmith (father), the former of which vanished under mysterious circumstances. Pryonn first emerged from the house of his father at the age of eight, his skin pallid from lack of exposure to sun. At the age of ten his father deemed him sufficient and the blacksmith immediately offered his son to the same knightly order the child's mother had once been part of - the knights of the Silver Repiner.
Pryonn took easily to the chivalric teachings, learning with a vigor and naiveté that his instructors were certain would fade in time. Several oddities became apparent, as the child exhibited a strange, instinctive fear of any female he encountered, as well as episodes of anxiety during which he complained of visions that made little sense but caused him great pain. While still able to fulfill his duties, he found himself estranged from his peers.
Reaching the age of eighteen, an incident occurred, affecting the entirety of the knightly order he was part of. At he beginning of the ceremony during which the squires were meant to be knighted, a creature of unknown matter invaded the event, slaughtering attendants without coherence, before retreating just as quickly. In answer, the knights gathered and followed for vengeance to the monster's lair. Though they apparently managed to slay the beast, only Pryonn emerged alive, clad in a suit of armor, aimlessly wandering through the wilderness with only a dim understanding of his surroundings. listlessly clutching the tattered remnants of a banner to his chest.
Wandering battered and without goal, still clutching the tattered remnants of a banner to his chest, the knight encountered the fairy Kaatl, wounded, her wings broken and unretractable. Carefully Pryonn nurtured her back to health as best as he could until she recovered. Thankful, she decided to stay with him to give company as conviction hardened within him.
Nowadays he and Kaatl aimlessly travel the land in search of innocents to aid, as he proclaims to be a proper knight's duty.
Equipment: He has a lance still bearing the torn fabric-remains of a banner and a one-handed iron-flail. Both items may be well-crafted, but they are not too out of the ordinary. Far more of note is his peculiar set of plates - even if it may not appear as such on first sight.
It grants not a single flash of clothing let alone flesh other than metal to be visible even from up close, the material simple steel. No ornament, no decoration, no marks of any known smiths. A careful eye might have noticed a number of spots betraying the wear and tear of the elements, as well as traces where weapons had clearly penetrated. Though conventional and featureless, the way the individual plates were each adjusted perfectly to the knight's form like a second skin did not allow for a derogatory term like 'simple' to fit, but rather matched the definition of efficient.
The armor is capable of self-repair, though
how few would want to tell. The question 'Where does the armor end and the knight begin?' would be difficult to answer.
Skills: Being skilled with the flail and capable with the spear, the knight's most adept capability is to derive strength from suffering, a complete and utter willingness to absorb pain and injury that can drive him into fits of outright masochistic frenzies if he doesn't guard his feelings. In such situations, when pain, misery, death and horror are the closest, the knight and his armor showcase a peculiar interaction; the knight's movements are spurred on with greater strength and speed the louder the death-knell tolls.
He also fashions himself as something of a singer, a trait he happily espouses wherever he goes, partly to vanquish the boredom of his frequent marching, partly to amuse Kaatl, and partly to amuse himself, even while wading into the thick of battle.
