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Lord Maru Seliki was once a handsome laughing man. Once. He tried the whole laughing thing and didn't care for it. Raised in a House that was only a generation away from Thralldom, whose elevation to the peerage was in the form of a directive from House Deepwood to 'make something of the Pearlspire,' Maru and his siblings and cousins have rivalry graven in their bones. Maru's chief rival was his eldest brother: Hyar. They competed in everything and Maru was always, always, just a little bit behind. Behind in footrace. Behind in their studies. Behind in courting the Lady Oona. Behind... behind... behind... and he cursed that luck all his days until one last roll of the dice. The two charged to meet a crew of abandoned harrying trade caravans. By the length of one stride, Hyar fell and Maru lived as arrows rained down on the ranks of their patrol. Some say Maru hesitated. Some say he stumbled. Some say he waited. He never cursed his luck again, but neither did he revel in surviving his brother, friend, rival, and Lord. He doesn't talk about it, but everyone noticed a change in him. He has not touched a weapon since. And studies the oddest, unsettling things. In the wake, he courted the widowed Countess, but his heart wasn't in it and she refused his advances regardless. Maru couldn't blame her, her husband had died with Maru right beside him. His young nephew, the Heir, and neices didn't want for familial care, the Seliki clan is a sprawling one, and Maru fell naturally into the role of telling the children frightening stories and teaching them how not to break their necks. By practice, of course! Needless to say, he was not called upon for caretaking duties with any frequency. Restless in his dotage, and never married, the evergreen bachelor was drawn to Arx, certain that his future awaited him there. Upon arriving in the capitol he quickly established himself as a carouser of note, building a social network that would prove useful as time moved on. He joined the Academy of Vellichor to further his study of the odd and unsettling, practically moving into the Archive as he delved deep into the knowledge contained within its walls. What came next, though, surprised everybody.

Maru's impressiveness is not in height, but in breadth. He is heavy, hard, and dense. Decades have taken the spring from his step, but he still moves with an implacable surety, like the relentless waves of his home and the cliffs they crash against through the years. Dark hair is frothed with silver-gray, dark shocks yet glimpsed beneath, swirling white. His hair alternates from kempt to unkempt and a variety of styles depending on who charmed him into sitting still long enough for its maintenance. His expression is grim and imposing, fearsome. And slightly more fearsome when he smiles.

Maru doesn't have time for nonsense. For frippery and frothery. He's unsuited to Court, not because he is crass or rude on purpose, but because he has cultivated other strengths along the path of a life that has branched like a bolt of lightning. A man of unpredictable temper, like the ocean itself and just as deep and inscrutable, he is as likely to be thrashing a recruit in the practice yard with no weapon in hand as he is to be brooding over some mystery with a hound at his feet and pipe smoke curling around his head.