Standing at 5'10 and weighing 171 pounds, Antonius' figure is lean and athletic, indicative of his active lifestyle. His tanned skin is proof of days spent wandering in the sun. Jet black hair hangs loosely just past his chin, often swept back with a few strands poking out over his face. With a rather plain face home to some stubble and a pair of brown eyes, you could stick him in a room with a dozen other Imperial men and his only recognizable trait would be the horizontal scar over the bridge of his nose.

In spite of his unremarkable appearance, Antonius is a bit more remarkable in the way he acts. He's quite outgoing and quick to make friends with strangers, having a nice chat over some ale or regaling them with stories of his travels. His go to story is the time that he killed a goblin on the road then had to sprint a few miles to the closest village after about twenty of its buddies showed up. In moments of quiet he tries to fill it with idle noise, usually humming a song he heard years ago but can't quite remember fully or muttering about how he needs to patch that hole in his boot.

Overall, he's not a bad guy. Just a bit stupid maybe.

Born and raised in Bravil, Antonius' life wasn't one of excitement or intrigue but rather one of routine and dullness. His parents were a fisherman and a seamstress, with his father taking him out to the bay to teach the boy his trade most days. Most expected the boy to follow in his father's footsteps and for most of his life Antonius believed he was going to do just that. It wasn't until he grew older and began to go out drinking with his friends that he began to hear more stories of the world outside of Bravil.

Tales of highwaymen mugging travelers, goblins attacking caravans, all sorts of danger - and that's just on the roads! It might've made most people want to stay safe within the walls of their city, but Antonius? He heard tales of opportunity. A life as a wandering warrior, putting an end to these dangers, keeping the roads safe and destroying evil wherever it may be found. He knew what he was born to do.

At the age of 19, he said goodbye to his parents and set off with his newly acquired greatsword and survival equipment. It was rough the first few months and Antonius nearly got himself killed quite a few times. It was even harder when he finally had to kill someone. He distinctly remembers the way he felt, the way his whole body froze after he cleaved through the man's torso and the ice that gripped his heart as he watched him bleed to death on the ground. The times after that never really got better.

Over the course of a year Antonius was molded from a clueless and sheltered boy to a brave and relatively competent warrior. He's seen his fair share of fights and come out on top every time, each time becoming just that bit more efficient as a swordsman. For the first time ever, he has found himself in the Imperial City, getting a room at an inn and going to see the Arena. After a disappointing fight he made his way to Daggerfall Dan's Bar and Grill for a drink, only to find himself knocked out after a bar fight broke out. Even being unconscious couldn't save him from being lumped in with a bunch of other bargoers and thrown into a jail cell.

And that's where his story begins: waking up bleary eyed on the floor of a jail cell, surrounded by a colorful bunch of people.

Antonius' dream is to become a famous hero, the kind of person that ballads are written about and whose bravery inspires the next generation of adventurers.