Post by saintronan on Oct 13, 2022 1:35:52 GMT -5
Maude
Age: 32
Race: Human
Nationality: Moonglade
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Strong features. A forward swept brow that cuts. Flat, dark eyebrows thick and bushy to the envy of any woman. Sunken and wide set eyes that sleep never seems to visit with verdant green irises and thin stark lashes. A flat hooked nose without blemish and of good proportion. Hard set jaw with a divot in the muscle over the left cheekbone running down to the crux of his jaw on the same side which pronounces itself under stress. Flaxen wavy hair cut short and shaved at the back of his neck. There seems a perpetual scruff at where his beard rest with a divide between where his short thick mustache should connect to it. All of his facial hair is dark in comparison to that atop his head.
Broad shouldered with barrel chest and, for those who have seen, chiseled muscle all wrapped in a pink and gray gambeson. Large weathered and calloused hands peppered with lightened marks of pasts unknown. Long legs. Bulging arms. Unassuming posture.
Broad shouldered with barrel chest and, for those who have seen, chiseled muscle all wrapped in a pink and gray gambeson. Large weathered and calloused hands peppered with lightened marks of pasts unknown. Long legs. Bulging arms. Unassuming posture.
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A gruff character whose abrasiveness bleeds through his every action. Heavy-footed gait, stoic countenance and blatant indifference for others define the man to those unfortunate enough to receive his attention. His lumbering callousness seems a show for the crowds undeserving of his time, however. For beyond the prying eyes he moves silent as a mouse with careful regard for his surroundings. The practiced step of a tracker hidden well behind the show that is his well developed brutality.
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Being found guilty of poaching on noble grounds at an early age set him on the path of a criminal. Condemnation to work camps, mines, and lumber teams built upon his already well developed figure. Hard labor in the deadliest of places beneath the boot-heel calloused whatever gentleness may have persisted beyond the childhood of a common hunter’s boy. Surviving such sweet caresses with death comes with it many a boon as well. A sense for danger, reliance on oneself above all else, and a finely honed focus on the task at hand. The experience was a crimson kiln to forge the steel resolve needed in the times to come.
Gifted the opportunity to lead, advancement came quickly. With harsh rule of iron fist and well experienced guidance the work became quicker. Safer. And more productive. Workers returned beaten black and blue, exhausted beyond compare to the days before his lead, but rewarded like free men with hot meals and dry beds. With this a seed was planted. One of begrudging respect at worse and hidden adoration at best. At the end of it all, however, they were still only criminals. Him included.
The conclusion of his servitude would only begin another. A chance encounter between himself and the noble child of his keeper. Their attempt at being seen as responsible enough for higher callings than play and practice would see a lumber team accosted by beasts. Penal laborers screaming and dying, guards maimed or distracted, and a little lordling. Vulnerable for the first time in their life. Struck with the choice of fight or flight they ran. Back towards whatever seemed familiar to an adrenaline addled mind driven by fear. The beasts would be staved off for a time by guard and prisoner alike with sword and axe. Long enough for the missing party to be noticed not among the deceased. The guards lacking man power and safety enough to go after the young master would become his liberation. Cashing in a decades worth of trust and goodwill, he would volunteer to track down and return the child with naught but a wood axe and his wits.
Returning alive was beyond expectation for him. Let alone returning with whatever was left of their charge in this monster riddled wood. So when the lone huntsmen plodded back into the work camp tailed by a bedraggled young lord in the early morning mists with nary a word... surprise was the least to their reception.
With their return and exultation for his actions an opportunity had become a step. One to dredge him up from the crime and servitude that defined all that he had become into the glittering order that was the Guard. The new collar and leash. Hand down the rule that had shackled himself so very long ago. A new frame which would redefine his character in the eyes of those he had once worked with and under. One that would name him as Mad Maude, the Boot.
protect him at all cost. (can’t use discord anymore so making use of this here)
