Post by Deverik on Dec 24, 2010 15:24:42 GMT -5
Deverik is not what many, if anyone would consider handsome. While it's aparent that at one time he would have been a looker in his strong jaw, hard thick muscles, and sharp perfectly white tusks, time had taken it's toll. Deveriks left eye never is never open, and by the way the lid is sunk in it's easily reconisable that behind it lies only an empty socket. He also carries three deep scars along the side of his face ending near his ear that look as if he had a bad run in with a wild animal. These however arn't the worst of Drevik's problems...
Just below his right elbow Drevik's arm ends in a stump that's wound in clean gause. This wrapping is nessecary for protecting the skin below from chafing when he wears his prostetic arm. The fake limb is a simple design, roughly as thick as the mans forarm would have been, and somewhat resembling an arm, it's made completly of irion with magnits in the palm and fingers of the hand so that it's usable to aid in the handling of his weapon.
Nothing else is reddily aparent about the orcs appearence save his hair, which hangs in long black locks down his back. Even his age is hard to pin down, because of the disfiguring scars. The average guess is early 30s, which is close.
Despite the looks the mans bearing is proud, challenging even. As if he dares someone to say something about his condition. There are times however where that proud bearing is replaced by what could be described as a disaster looking for a place to happen. A temperorary madness one could call it.
His clothing, like himself is nothing spectacular to look at. Weather he's in his battle armor, or in clothes for a night at the bar, his garb is somewhat worn out, the only thing that seems to be recently bought are a pair of very comfortable looking black boots, which are polished to a high shine and obviously more loved than anything else he owns.
A voice like rumbling thunder, and a scent reminiscent of oiled leather complete the picture of an orc who's lead a hard life, is tougher than nails, and will likely chew off your arm if you look at him funny.
Just below his right elbow Drevik's arm ends in a stump that's wound in clean gause. This wrapping is nessecary for protecting the skin below from chafing when he wears his prostetic arm. The fake limb is a simple design, roughly as thick as the mans forarm would have been, and somewhat resembling an arm, it's made completly of irion with magnits in the palm and fingers of the hand so that it's usable to aid in the handling of his weapon.
Nothing else is reddily aparent about the orcs appearence save his hair, which hangs in long black locks down his back. Even his age is hard to pin down, because of the disfiguring scars. The average guess is early 30s, which is close.
Despite the looks the mans bearing is proud, challenging even. As if he dares someone to say something about his condition. There are times however where that proud bearing is replaced by what could be described as a disaster looking for a place to happen. A temperorary madness one could call it.
His clothing, like himself is nothing spectacular to look at. Weather he's in his battle armor, or in clothes for a night at the bar, his garb is somewhat worn out, the only thing that seems to be recently bought are a pair of very comfortable looking black boots, which are polished to a high shine and obviously more loved than anything else he owns.
A voice like rumbling thunder, and a scent reminiscent of oiled leather complete the picture of an orc who's lead a hard life, is tougher than nails, and will likely chew off your arm if you look at him funny.
Founded April 26, 2005