A younger appearance of the face claim, with smoother skin. He has extremely grey eyes, only a touch of the natural Varyan blue in there. Darker blonde hair (now a brown shade), which is curly when it is at a medium and longer length, but it is normally cut shorter. He cuts his facial hair regularly, and normally will carry a kit to keep himself groomed well. There are not many markings on his face or skin, if bathing becomes hard to do, the skin around his hair line will break out horribly with blemishes, as well as under his chin going down to the left side of his neck. Besides that, he is an average looking fellow. The only part of him that could be seen as usually marked would be his hands, which seem aged compared to the rest of his body due to constant use, and can sometimes even smell of burnt flesh.
Personality: Stout, and hearty, Boris is a strong willed man whom is a fighter and survivalists. He fights to the bloody end, and will make sure those behind him have a chance to survive. But he is a guardian of sorts, when he was younger he might have just been a healer, but due to circumstances, he has become a good leader, and strong warrior like those around him. He is straightforward, and prefers weapons such as a rifle with bayonet, or a good sword and side firearm such as a revolver or pistol. He is more likely to bulk up with extra clothing, and use anything around him to survive. He follows the path given to him, and is as devout as possible, but life as an entirety is worth saving. His personal interests are more or less to bring the intellectual gifts from the all-mighty, such as guns and technology into the church.
He is honestly more suited for clergy or craftsman kind of work, but he is a strong and brave soul. He cooks, cleans, does menial tasks, he's pretty much a personal and mobile butler. If not tending to someone, or trying to keep someone sane, he can be found doing any of these tasks with great importance, making sure everything is in check and will stress until it is. He is also quick to adapt, he is not the brightest, but innocence may be the saving grace to those around him. But, he does not like to kill any being in a melee, but will if it is life and death.
Background: Born to a family whom had already had enough children, he was somewhat neglected as he wasn't let out of the house much. His family how ever was somewhat successful, good trades and craft men. The young Boris, would be saved from infanticide by morality, but would be kept in the dark. Left as something like Genie, he was not taught much in the way of culture, mainly by one of his younger sisters, the one who would feed him.
While in his captivity, he would mainly be used as manual labor behind the scenes of his parents shop, his mother teaching him to cook, and do menial tasks such as cutting open and harvest animals. When not doing this, he was being forced to lift the heaviest items while his father or one of his brothers fixed it to where it needed to be in their arts. He was fed extremely well as grew quickly because of that, only really being kept in check by being fed and not having much knowledge about the world outside of his home.
At the age of ten he was able to see the bright sky for one of the first times, it was in a fenced in and he was mainly moving completed furniture and machinery. During this moment, he was approached by a frequent customer someone who was apart of the Divine Order and someone who would later take pity on him. Several days later, he decided to run away to become a priest.
When arriving at the doorsteps, he was tested and judged to see if he was even applicable to be of any service, but since he was able to heal and was somewhat receptive to learning. He was taken under for at least a basic education, excelling at mathematical skills over any cultural aspect and making sure he was devout at least.
He was then given as a mentee to Father Lenistan in the divine order, someone he had met before whom purchased things from his family's shop before. His mentor would train him further in mathematics and sciences, as well as his abilities . Learning potential was present, which is why his training was progressed further. Maybe if he was more accustomed to social life in the past, he could be something great. With his mentor, he thrived very well compared to his previous life, he was able to learn and grow in his abilities and classes. His mentor helped him hone his healing and allowed him to learn some magic beside his ability to heal. But priorities would go to his academics.
Talents/Ethereal Abilities: Non-Magical :
Naturally hearty - an abomination of his family he is a bulky man with many physical abilities of his own. His strength is immense, and he heals quickly if injured physically, and can stand illness better then most. But he requires a lot of food compared to most men, but he has the strength and agility to haul enough for him for a month with a good sled or cart. If he becomes ill, it could be a death sentence for him as well.
Survivalist - he adapts quickly to the environment around him, as well as skills he learned as a child such as cooking, helping his mother shop in market places, and watching his family create and build around him. He knows how to make shelter, find good things to eat, and how to hunt. He is a good person to have if lost, or stranded.
Magical :
Ether hearth - A touch healing, it can heal most physical wounds, and some aliments. It even warms the body some and can be a pain relief if the individual dying due to a stronger aliment or plague. It doesn't hurt being touched by him and can even feel soothing at times, specially out in the cold.
Light of the Holy - his palms are the conduit of light and heat. When extended forward from a hand of his, a ray of burning light strikes what ever it touches, cooking flesh and leaving ash upon any surface it touches. When controlled in his hands, it can be used as a source of heat and light, but it can burn him if it gets too heated. With his staff, he is able to project the light at a further distance, and the heat some distance further but not much. Range - 25 ft w/hand - 50 ft w/staff for damaging effects
Personal Seal:
The tree of life, as he gives life to those whom he helps passed down to him for his talents as a healer.
Personal Staff :
This staff of Father Lenistan would help some with mastering his abilities, as he was not able to create his own staff before setting off on the journey, this will be the staff passed down to him shall his mentor dies.
Weapons of choice : Rifle - bolt action rifle 8mm similar the early K98 used in the first world war, it has a foot long bayonet which can also be used as a short epee on its own.
or
A handgun and sword - he typically does have a full length long sword, but the handgun can vary on supply and availability.
A young man would be near the back of the crowd as the precessions would be happening. He began making his way forward bottle of liquor in his hand as he held it under his cloak. But his breaths still smelt it, and the small dribble on his somewhat unshaven face would show it. He would be confused by the beginning of the demonic part of the precession, but it would not affect him until the light. The screaming and panic would allow the man to easily get to at least the middle of the room before it was clear.
The blinding light would force him to raise his bottle to shield his eyes, but it would make it worse so he turned his head instead.
"What in God's name is today?" he would ask as the light would dissipate to the groups of people still in the room. Why were there still people in here, and why were they fighting the demonic creatures, shouldn't he be fighting those creatures? Probably, but intoxication will hinder that for the moment. He stared at the group and would mosey over to the outer wall away from the group of combatants. He would find himself in the corner with his bottle looking at the crowd and the combat.
A man wounded would eventually make his way to the drunken fool and collapse beside him, Leopold sat his hand upon the man's stomach and a light would shine from it, it would mend the wound for now, and stabilize the poor man beside him. Blood covered his hand, and he then wiped it on the man's clothes that poked out of his armor. "Stay with me, comrade, all will be alright."
The first ramp went down, and smoke rolled from its surface as metal greaves marched down it. The first rank and file of the Blood Harvesters came, ten astartes standing in rank and file formation. Light shining from the white on their helmet and knee pads. The ten men all had their bolters out in front of them in salute facing the west, where the Imperial Palace was. They were ten miles away in a quarter of the grand city that hosted the Blood Harvesters, and some would even worship them as angels to the Emporer. Most of the inhabitants of this quarter were administrators and nobles from planets that were near the planet of Tessar I, the home of the Blood Harvesters. The sector was known for beautiful pleasure worlds, and agri-worlds, even the few that were focused on mining and industry were known to be artistic with their ways rather than efficient. The plaza was almost empty all but a few groups of individuals that were older, and a few groups of children a parent mixed in here and there. Why see one Primarch when you can get to see a lot of them must have been what people were thinking.
The maybe fifty people who were in the quarter were all silent and waving at the group in front of the landing ramp, two more figures would exit the ramp, a giant to the ten astartes, a giant by any standard, and beside him, an aged woman with silver hair and bright blue eyes. She was still beautiful, but you could see her age easily. You could tell she had gone through regenerative treatment plenty of times, and that she was possibly ready to go, but that she had her duties to the Imperium and to her husband.
Once the two figures were on the ground the landing ramp raised itself up and Thunder Hawk began to rise into the sky. The entourage began to march forward as two more Thunder Hawks began to land, but by the time their ramps were down the twelve people were already on their way down a road to join in on the precessions to the Palace.
After about twenty minutes, the twelve individuals were marching down towards the palace in the precessions, where the other primarchs were coming from.
"Time wait's for no one son of man." Noel said as he looked at the other legions that hard formed in front of him, and he turned his head back towards his wife. Behind him, a formation of three hundred astartes marched in a square, inside the square had nine banners that formed an X inside the square. The formation would stop short, and the ten astartes out front would stop and part before Noel and the woman would continue forward in pace with each other. "Hopefully, we are not too late for whatever this meeting may be about..."
A drunken slumber from the night before almost decided what he was going to do next. But it was decided, he would continue the party and drinking of the night before as that is the best way to shake a drunken hangover, right? Leopold stared out over the street in front of the building he was in, and it was filled with people.
"Today is the day, today is the day!" he said gleefully as he stood up from where he was taking a slumber and he immediately fell forwards onto the person laying on the floor in front of him, his legs giving out from lack of plenty of things. "Maid I..." that was the maid on the floor he realized, along with a bunch of other passed out drunks and renegades in this upper floor room. "Can someone get me another drink! And one that is light?" he muttered on the floor as he crawled back up to the bed.
Taking the situation of what was happening in the room, he looked about and then he looked down, realizing he had no shirt, was sticky and covered in a clear brown liquid that had dried on him. He knew what he had to do, he laid back down on the bed feeling the warm pillow below his head. A very hairy but comfortable pillow, he closed his eyes for a moment before the pillow would rumble. This was no pillow, this was some hairy man under his head. He leaned up again and took in the situation, there were several people piled on the bed, his spot had already been occupied by one the hairy, relatively large man.
"I should have known this was a terrible idea... the only woman I see is the maid who I assume is also in a drunken morning stupor like I am..." he slowly placed his legs on the floor and slid onto his feet, managing to stand with the strength of being help up with his arms, and his legs finally realizing they had strength in them he stood and stretched. He popped like a bag of popcorn, his back, shoulders arms, neck, they all cracked and popped. That is when everyone awoke and began sturring.
He slowly found his way outside that room and into a short hallway with other doors and a stairwell, also full of people, he headed downstairs and found that it looked more like a drunken riot. There weren't any people there, but there was a nice sign that showed that there was at least a wooden tub and maybe somewhere to change clothes. He would enter that room soon after.
Several hours later he would still be in the room, but far more desensitized, he had entered the bathhouse of the establishment, he had not gotten what he had hoped for or dreamed for, like a nice room full of beautiful young maids to bathe and clean him. No, instead he found a bunch of drunken men bathing in the small pool. He sat between two groups, a group of large burly men that were loud, and a group of elderly men who seemed to be acting smart and just as loud with their bickering.
A voice would enter his mind, and overwhelm his senses, or at least overwhelm his patience.
"Will you shut it, old man, I will find this child of yours!" he yelled at one random man in the group of old men. Getting confused stares, he decided it was best to leave to which he dried himself and left, no longer sticky, the next thing on the agenda to get dressed in clothing and go home or find what he was wearing and go home.
He would find a new pair of pants, a size too big, a shirt, three sizes too big, his belt, stretched out a bit, his boots, and his pouch bag. To this, he would enter the street in hopes of finding his way home or someone to find him and take him home so he may start this festival off with dignity or end it depending on what day and hour it was.
A young male with blue hair and blue eyes, average build 180 lbs, and 5'10 ft. There is not really many odd features, he does have a burn mark on the his right lower abdomen from a drunk incident while at a ball.
Birthplace: Born in a smaller citadel in a village surrounding the capital of the Holy Empire.
Status or Nobility?: Born to a count he didn't have much of a title or wealth compared to other nobles but he was still a minor nobles son nonetheless.
Knack for magic or fighting prowess: As a noble he was trained with a sword, spear/polearm, and bow n arrow. He is competent with each weapon, but he does extremely well with a sword compared to the others.
Magic wise he is a white mage, can throw holy fire from his hands, create some small barriers in front of him that can withstand most attacks, and the ability to do minor healing.
Personality: Money, glory, wanderlust, women. He desires the life of luxury and happiness rather then logic and reason. He can be somewhat narcissistic and can be hostile compared to most who seem holy. He can be nice, but he is abrasive and and controlling, specially when drinking. But, he can be proper if needed, like when in a holy place or in front of officials whom he doesn't speak with on a regular basis.
Brief Background: As a young child, he was educated well, learning skills like playing instruments, wine tasting, competition archery and learning how to fight with weapons. He grew up in the small village and fields surrounding his fathers lands, living free and wild like a child should. Nearing the age of ten, he began following his older brothers in court, playing pranks and having general fun while enjoying his education, but this was more focused on a natural power he had, one that the church would recognize, but not understand.
Near the age of fifteen while he was well in the way of being a whore-monger, a growing drunkard, and an excellent brawler and fighter. In fact during one fight he fought so well he caught his cloths on fire, burnt down the tavern he was fighting in and since he was burned, was not killed since he couldn't be the witch that could burn the church down. He would however be placed on a tighter leash.
For the next years of his life until his great adventures would start one day, when he was asked to go to get spices from a trader, only to go to a brothel, get drunk and lost. Besides that, through those times in solitary training, he learned more on math and sciences that pertained to him being a user of white magics. He would become a formidable warrior, a lonely man, and a smart but sober drunkard.
A young male with blue hair and blue eyes, average build 180 lbs, and 5'10 ft. There is not really many odd features, he does have a burn mark on the his right lower abdomen from a drunk incident while at a ball.
Birthplace: Born in a smaller citadel in a village surrounding the capital of the Holy Empire.
Status or Nobility?: Born to a count he didn't have much of a title or wealth compared to other nobles but he was still a minor nobles son nonetheless.
Knack for magic or fighting prowess: As a noble he was trained with a sword, spear/polearm, and bow n arrow. He is competent with each weapon, but he does extremely well with a sword compared to the others.
Magic wise he is a white mage, can throw holy fire from his hands, create some small barriers in front of him that can withstand most attacks, and the ability to do minor healing.
Personality: Money, glory, wanderlust, women. He desires the life of luxury and happiness rather then logic and reason. He can be somewhat narcissistic and can be hostile compared to most who seem holy. He can be nice, but he is abrasive and and controlling, specially when drinking. But, he can be proper if needed, like when in a holy place or in front of officials whom he doesn't speak with on a regular basis.
Brief Background: As a young child, he was educated well, learning skills like playing instruments, wine tasting, competition archery and learning how to fight with weapons. He grew up in the small village and fields surrounding his fathers lands, living free and wild like a child should. Nearing the age of ten, he began following his older brothers in court, playing pranks and having general fun while enjoying his education, but this was more focused on a natural power he had, one that the church would recognize, but not understand.
Near the age of fifteen while he was well in the way of being a whore-monger, a growing drunkard, and an excellent brawler and fighter. In fact during one fight he fought so well he caught his cloths on fire, burnt down the tavern he was fighting in and since he was burned, was not killed since he couldn't be the witch that could burn the church down. He would however be placed on a tighter leash.
For the next years of his life until his great adventures would start one day, when he was asked to go to get spices from a trader, only to go to a brothel, get drunk and lost. Besides that, through those times in solitary training, he learned more on math and sciences that pertained to him being a user of white magics. He would become a formidable warrior, a lonely man, and a smart but sober drunkard.