Ere the World Crumbles
A lithe, wiry man of deep, soul-scarred eyes. Hood is up.
6’2", 210 lbs., Black hair (scruffy, somewhat long), Brown eyes, Arming sword in the right hand, machete in the left.
It’s been a treasured life of scrap scrounging, battling for the basics, and continuous mitigation of the shifty. Growing up a slender lad in a “kingdom” better known for wasted badlands than gold or myrrh (Border Kingdom), youth was one continuous test of foraging, hunting, and the odd pilfering to learn how the world really worked. His home was no city of significance, no town with guard and watch. It was a roaming ramshackle of vagabonds calling themselves a “community”. This is the basis of Karenthius’ family roots. His people still roam the plains of the much longed-for Border Kingdom, because they have found the true wealth in being undesired. For Karenthius, he always felt there was more waiting for him – a larger world, travel, adventure, and potentially a little revenge against a particular annoying arrogance. In the interim, he’s lived as a scout, messenger, and escort mercenary. And now, he expects there will be a little more on his way. Some good, but always ready for the truth of the bad.