Metallic clanging of steel rings up from the floor as the tavern door swings open. A massive Highlander strides in at a march. His mountainous form is covered in full plate. The battle armor has seen better days. Once a blood-red masterpiece, the protective suit has been horribly battered in fierce combat. Ominous paint has been chipped off in more places than one can quickly count, revealing spots of bright silver and tarnished grey. Scorch marks appear almost everywhere, marring the steel so badly that any intricate designs are lost to any but the most scrutinizing of gazes. Incorrect shaping around the shoulders is further evidence of enduring an intense heat as the metal has clearly melted to a degree and hardened before the warping effect could be counteracted. Smatterings of arrows have also found a new home, embedded in the thick steel without fully penetrating. Most of the projectiles are little more than arrowheads and broken sticks but a few with full fletching linger about in more difficult-to-reach areas. A large shield bearing the emblem of Ul’dah rests against the Hyur’s back, serving as protection from physical harm and a warning to would-be enemies. The wicked longsword hanging from his belt quickly identifies the man as a Gladiator as the shape and design lend as much to wow onlookers as to being effective in combat.
Steady hands pull a battered helmet from the Highlander’s head. Features are difficult to make out, his face covered in soot and grime. He clearly has very short hair that is most likely light in color but one cannot be completely certain. His state of uncleanliness makes the man’s icy blue eyes stand out even more than usual. His gaze is fierce and intense as it sweeps the room, moving slowly from person to person. He allows his eyes to momentarily rest on each person, making no apologies of measuring them and quickly calculating whether or not anyone poses a threat. Anyone who meets his gaze and holds for more than a brief moment is examined more closely.
Piercing eyes shift to an empty table closer to the stage than the bar and the monstrous Highlander resumes his march. He is no more than a few ilms shy of 7 fulms and clearly has a deal of bulk by the armor’s shaping. The Gladiator reaches his destination after several quick, long strides. He carries himself with great confidence and pride, every movement seeming to have a purpose. Great care is taken as the man lowers his helmet onto the table and slides his shield off his back, leaning it against a seat and the table for stabilization. He eases himself into a seat carefully as if to keep from breaking something. Finally, the Highlander draws in a long, deep breath and exhales slowly, allowing his gaze to fall down to the tabletop and examine the surface’s grain.
Steady hands pull a battered helmet from the Highlander’s head. Features are difficult to make out, his face covered in soot and grime. He clearly has very short hair that is most likely light in color but one cannot be completely certain. His state of uncleanliness makes the man’s icy blue eyes stand out even more than usual. His gaze is fierce and intense as it sweeps the room, moving slowly from person to person. He allows his eyes to momentarily rest on each person, making no apologies of measuring them and quickly calculating whether or not anyone poses a threat. Anyone who meets his gaze and holds for more than a brief moment is examined more closely.
Piercing eyes shift to an empty table closer to the stage than the bar and the monstrous Highlander resumes his march. He is no more than a few ilms shy of 7 fulms and clearly has a deal of bulk by the armor’s shaping. The Gladiator reaches his destination after several quick, long strides. He carries himself with great confidence and pride, every movement seeming to have a purpose. Great care is taken as the man lowers his helmet onto the table and slides his shield off his back, leaning it against a seat and the table for stabilization. He eases himself into a seat carefully as if to keep from breaking something. Finally, the Highlander draws in a long, deep breath and exhales slowly, allowing his gaze to fall down to the tabletop and examine the surface’s grain.
