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One unaffiliated with seafaring would likely know little regarding the man that goes by the names of Aerandir Elensar. Nonetheless, should one inquire enough in dockside taverns, inns, and any harbours scattered about the continent of Arvum or the Mourning Isles; knowledgeable sailors, venerable innkeepers and the like may claim him to be a marine of Southport origin recognised for serving aboard a naval vessel called the Lusty Mermaid - which under the vassalage of House Grayson frequented many a harbour throughout the decades. Rumour has it, however, that the Lusty Mermaid - during a voyage through the Darkwater Reach - was sank, its crew slaughtered along with the civilian ship's it was escorting. The disgrace and ignominy following such colossal failure as the commanding officer and sole survivor of the vessel ensured his service's end, though his life was spared in recognition of his and his family's lengthy, formerly immaculate history of servitude. What transpired that day is anyone's guess, but what is certain is that the hedge knight now roams the lands as Crownsworn - bereft of the honour he once bore in service to one of the greatest houses of the Realm.

Dull strands of black hair fall from the man's shoulders in ungroomed disarray, framing his lined face and neck in the manner of a lion's mane. An equally unkempt beard sprouts from his jawline in bristles, kept wholly untouched by any razor in recent memory. His hooked beak of a nose draws plain attention to the centre of a weather-beaten visage, set between a pair of lively grey eyes that may be considered his only redeeming facial trait against an otherwise marred canvas. Possessed of middling height and a broad build, his stocky physique lends itself well to his martial trade, leaning on the heavier side; it comes as no surprise that he boasts thick limbs and an expansive chest, stretching the leather restraints of his armour to their very last notches.

Though Aerandir may strike one as a gruff, jaded man upon first glance, those who work their way into his good graces - whether through time, effort or simply by nature of being likeable - will quickly notice that he is not without manners, nor joviality; jests, lopsided grins and laughter coming easily enough in the right company. His military bearing, however, is distinct and ever present, a habit yet to die by the looks of it: as evidenced by Aerandir's shift in personality in the presence of gentry, a respectful, almost meek demeanour often taking over.