Nathaniel Lothwren isn’t much to look at from a first glance. He is a bit tall for his age, and has a lean-muscular build. He keeps his hair short, to avoid it from becoming a nuisance in battle or a potential weakness. His features are a bit sharp in the right light, though a nearly ever-present soft smile helps to smooth away the edges. The most notable feature is noticed when Nathaniel looks in someone’s direction: his irises have a purple hue. It’s subtle enough to be mistaken as blue, but is markedly distinct when viewed in better lighting. Beyond just the color of his eyes, there is an intense focus placed on anything Nate looks at that is remarkably clear on closer examination.

As for his clothes, all of Nathaniel’s limited wardrobe is remarkably well crafted. He is almost always seen wearing fair riding clothes, fine pants, and a blue tunic of fine quality. He sinches his outfit together with belts and straps to ensure everything stays firm, especially before going into combat. His ensemble, once viewed when he is in the height of combat, is also purely utilitarian. His gloves reduce wear on his hands, with bracers designed to hold the gloves in place. Belts and straps keep the tunic loose around joints and his hips without any fear of the clothing sliding or restricting in such a way as to limit mobility. And, of course, Nathaniel is often not seen without his trusty “Sword and a half” Bastard Sword either strapped to his back or held in hand whenever training or duels are at hand. The scabbard for the blade is old and worn leather, whereas the sword itself seems to be in remarkably pristine condition.

Nathaniel Lothwren's birth was deemed important by the falling of three stars in the Southwestern sky, piercing through the sword of Chironis... at least, that's what some sage told his mother. The last time stars fell in this pattern was years and years ago, when one of his forefathers was born: a forefather who was a founding knight serving alongside Arbert Grayle. Back when heroes walked the realm. The meaning of this sign was clear: Nathaniel was born with the rare gift of being able to project a magical aura. Nathaniel's father, whom the boy refuses to name, took this as a sign that his son was meant to surpass him. And thus, the boy's future was set.

As soon as Nathaniel could walk, he was taught to run. As soon as he was able to comprehend language, he was told his destiny by his father: to become a knight to rival the heroes of old. As soon as the boy could stand on his own two feet and hold a sword, he underwent formal drills. He was given access to some of the greatest sword instructors in all of Grandor, and some from outside Grayle proper. Mages also did their best to instruct the boy, and teach him to control his aura. Beyond even just that, they taught him the nature of combative magic. While not versed in incantations for his personal use, Nathaniel has been taught on instinct what spells to expect to be used against him. When time allowed, Nathaniel's father would draw up mock battles in the study and teach the boy military history. The boy would absorb his father's musings on tactical failures of the past, and over time the boy began to be able to notice strategic flaws all his own. His two younger brothers were not given the same focus, the same singular attention that Nathaniel was. They were only a year and a half and three years younger than himself. They were not neglected, not by any means. They were instead taught alternative lessons: instructed on how to be proper young men, educated and able to command principles of academics and business. They were molded for court, and to be proper nobles. Nathaniel was made for the battlefield.

By the time the boy was 10, even Nathaniel's father recognized a need for socialization. He had drilled the boy in principles of honor, of always fighting fair even in the face of cunning and ruthlessness. But the boy needed to put it into practice. So, the boy was sent off to various sword schools, for a few months at a time. He displayed a great prowess for wielding a blade, and had grown to favor wielding a specific type of broadsword: a bastard sword. Nathaniel had learned proficiency in switching the hand he wielded the sword with. He would quickly work his way to the top of the class, and was met with jealousy by the other students. He was bullied and harrassed, and yet Nathaniel's resolve was strong. He would accept whatever scorn was cast his way, and never rose to true anger. That was reserved for those who fought dishonorably and outside of the rules. Those who lacked skill and prowess, and resorted to cheap shots and dirty tricks. They were nothing but cowards, mere rats clawing desperately for survival. Nathaniel reserved his ire for these students, and would systematically tarnish their spirits in sparring matches.

That is not to say Nathaniel did not make friends at these schools. The boy with purple eyes earned respect by those who were less skilled and in desperate desire to learn. While it was breaking the rules, Nathaniel would sneak out of the rooms at night many a time with those who desired to squeeze in extra practice by moonlight. Nathaniel would give pointers and suggestions, even in the midst of sparring, with those who were not as skilled as Nathaniel. And by the time Nathaniel left each sword school, his genuine care for those around him was the most notable absence.

Of course, it seems that Nathaniel would be a shoe in for placing as a respectable knight. He passed the preliminary trials offered to noble families, and was slated to duel a mere Baker's boy. Nathaniel took it as a chance to show off his skills against an unknown opponent. Despite all of the training he had, Nathaniel was not expecting one thing: pocket sand. A cheap trick blinded him, and Nathaniel was on his back pinned down and disarmed as he was coughing and furiously trying to blink out the rough sand. In his first truly public duel and display, Nathaniel Lothwren was dishonored and made a laughing stock. While he tries to be all smiles, there is a deep well of ambition and desire to challenge that opponent to a proper duel.

One of these days, Nathaniel will get his rematch with Julian Baker. And when that time comes, he is not going to hold back.

A younger version of what everyone would expect a knight to be. Andre is tall and muscular, sporting broad shoulders and strong hands. His features are angular with a masculinity more subtle than one would expect given his personality and upbringing. His piercing gaze seems to silently pick apart your every flaw and note them, even ones you don't realize you have. He smiles rarely and only slightly on those precious few occasions, otherwise his lips are pressed into a semi-permanent frown. Andre's voice leans toward a lower pitch but he's still in the late stages of puberty so it will undoubtedly shift even lower with time.

Andre was born the youngest of seven brothers, three of whom have already achieved the status of knighthood. From his earliest days, Andre was "guided" down his current path by his father and older brothers. His head was filled with dreams of grandeur and stories of knights long dead. He was given everything he needed to succeed and he did time and time again, but he also knew from a very young age that his father's love was contingent on his martial prowess and were it not for that he would be cast aside like his brothers before him who could not rise to the challenge. No matter, he will carve out his destiny to become the fourth Grandbough knight of this generation. After all, how could he not? He's been told all his life how he's destined for greatness and he can achieve everything he's ever dreamed... provided he doesn't stand in his own way.

> He did very well in the initial sparring tournament but was still unhappy with his own performance.

> The Grandbough family has quickly gained even more fame in the last decade for producing so many Sentinel Knights and many curious eyes are upon Andre as a result.