Browse wiki

Born amidst the beautific rose-gold arches and stone masonry of Stonedeep, Egil was orphaned, or, perhaps, abandoned -- he was never really sure -- to a life of filth, squalor, and blood. Wading clear of it didn't come easy, especially as an orphan, and were it not for the conjunction of his scrappy cunning, wanton savagery, and the favoring of fortune, he may well have never acceded to adulthood. It was in his teens that he first found his calling, earning coin by acting as servant to mercenaries, bands of men dedicated to wiping out troublesome villages of Shav'Arvani. The heat of combat soon propelled him from a mere servant to a fighter in his own right, and he earned his keep in adulthood by hunting and claiming bounties. While tracking a particularly problematic group of blood-drinking Shav'Arvani, he encountered Duchess Nadia Nightgold. After a dispute with the Duchess regarding his rights to claim the bounty he'd been hunting, they came to terms, and he aided her in tracking down the remnants of the tribe. Offering him handsome pay, she invited him to travel to Arx and enter her service.

Long, straight filaments of spun gold are tied in a tidy topknot atop the head of a towering brute. The tie is near to the back of the man's head, which is shaved, as are the sides. Beneath a broad forehead and blond brows, icy eyes are prone to staring with calculating alertness. Stubble shrouds his facial features, and the sides and back of his head, though it is thicker in a mustache beneath his nose, and where his sideburns stretch down to meet a tuft of hair on his chin. His lips are a pensive pink aperture, prone alike to displays of confidence or cruelty. He moves with confidence and brutal efficiency, his every move calculated and deliberate.

Surviving, let alone prospering, as he has -- and despite his beginnings -- has engendered in the sellsword a smug confidence and smart mouth that exceed the warrant of his low birth and station, but which oft appears to come more from a playful, rowdy temperament than from genuine egotism. While perhaps he may be put in his place, and have his tune changed, he's a mercurial, self-interested sort -- though not one predisposed to cruelty for cruelty's sake, nor much for the elaborate intricacies of courtly intrigue.