Lord Tristan of Grehvald

[Lord Tristan of Grehvald]

"And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years"

AT FIRST GLANCE

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you never know what lies beneath.[/right]
Full Name: Lord Tristan of Grehvald
Alias: Sometimes referred to as Gray, normally only his closest friends refer to him as this.
Occupation: Earl/Lord
Gender: Male
Age: 29

DELVE A LITTLE DEEPER
but you still only graze the outer skin.

Skin Tone: Fairly tan from practicing his fencing quite often outside in the sun
Eyes: Light green
Hair: Dark brown and wavy, a little bit higher then shoulder length. He has a thin amount of facial hair around his mouth.
Height: 6'1
Build: Thin but masculine, mostly from doing archery; his father was very muscular
Style: The first thing people see in Archer is his charming handsome features. Like many men of his station, he normally wears an silver and gold embroidered tunics of dark greens or black, very rarely does he wear lighter colors, a pair of dark leather boots and on his many outings to the court and into town, a black velvet blue feathered hat along with a cloak.

TAKE A LOOK INTO THE PAST
and you might find something useful.

Birth Father: Sir James Lucas Banoh, Age: 57, Occupation: Knight; Tristan really doesn't know much about his father, and happily doesn't care.
Birth Mother: Leena Rancas, Age: 32, Occupation: Unknown: Like his father, Tristan knows absolutely nothing about his mother.
Foster Father: Lord Malcolm Williams Grehvald, Age: 62, Occupation: Former Baron, Deceased
Foster Mother: Lady Anna Young Dormal Grehvald, Age: 65, Location: Unknown
History: Lord Tristan Grevald is the adopted son and only child of the former Lord, Malcolm Grehvald and Lady Anna. He was taken in by the wealthy couple only a few months after he was born on his home island of Marcia in the small fishing port of Trevenes. The reasons he was given for being taken to the city of Daer in the kingdom of Menor to live with a new family were never truly answered. Though in honest truth this didn't really bother him to much, he enjoyed his luxurious life as the son of an extremely wealthy nobleman; and he especially enjoyed the thought that someday this wealth would all be his own. All his life Lady Anna and Malcolm treated him as if he were their own, no matter the fact he was truly not of their noble blood.

Tristan was raised and lived in a lovely manor in the more highly respected region of the city. He was given his own servants, tutors, he began learning the art of fencing by the age of 9 and started archery when he was 13. His father being a member of the kings council and a highly skilled strategist, taught him everything he knew until finally Tristan began at times to outwit him. Though even with this wonderful fulfilling life, he still at times would sometimes wonder what his life would’ve been like if he still lived with his actual parents, if he still would have been happy. Like many boys in his teen years, Tristan was very hot-headed and reckless, and got into many a hassle; he snuck into the royal forest, tried to have a go at the daughters of the nobles, rampaged through town on his father’s stallion on his 15th birthday; and almost every one of these messes landed his fuming parents with a hefty fine. But the majority of time he really didn’t cause his father and mother to much grief, he always tried to be polite when he could, speak when spoken to and at least tried to think before doing something stupid.

Though as he grew older he eventually began to slowly grow out these habits, he became more cunning and thoughtful, his flirtatiousness and fondness of woman never left him but that’s just a man. When he was 23 his mother, Lady Anna, suddenly disappeared without warning and without a trace; though his father had told him he had a slight hunch and sadly went on through his life, never revealing where he believed she went. As the years went the old lord Malcom fell ill, it was Tristan’s 27th spring when his father finally passed. Like any normal human he was obviously saddened, but the encouraging last words of his father kept him going and soon released him from the time of morning and he inherited the beautiful manor and all of his father’s possessions and gained the title Lord.

STILL DO NOT JUDGE
for you will never walk their shoes.

Fears: Dishonoring his families name, being dumped
Mental Stability: Sane
Strength: Skilled with a blade, Cunning
Weakness: Women, ale,
General Persona: Charismatic: Tristan loves parties and overall anything that has something to do with socializing. Ever sense he was a small boy even he loved festivities and large gatherings of people, particularly the more wealthy and proper classes; though less noble people were always well.

Cunning: Behind his mask of charm and his charismatic personality, Tristan is very intelligent and logical. Having had a father who was at one time a member in the military court system, most people really didn't find this surprising.

Ambitious: When Tristan sets his mind to something, there's about a 0% chance he isn't going to follow up with his ideas. Which in a lot of ways this trait can be very useful but in many cases this type of attitude can get a person in great trouble even danger should their ambition land them in the wrong spot.

Conceded: There's only one way to put him; he knows he's nice to look at. Tristan is very well aware his appearance comes off to many women as very handsome. Unfortunately this is yet another of one of his more dragging traits.

THE TRUTH SHINES THROUGH
to reveal what is behind the mask.

Alias: Emi
Gender: Female
Other Toons: Montee Edmund
Where You Found Us: Moon is awesome!
Sample:Raven was leaning lazily back into his wooden armchair at his usual table in the back of the pub, smoking his smoke stained pipe of honey weed; he was waiting for his company to arrive. He signaled to the barman for more ale, and then suddenly saw a strange figure appear in the room. It was an old dwarf, wearing shimmering chainmail and a thick leather belt and hard hide boots; an old axe with engraved runes was slung across his slightly hunched back. He was accompanied by another companion though this was no dwarf; its face and body was shadowed from view at first from a dark hooded cloak, but shortly after entering it revealed itself. It was a woman, with long braided ginger hair and a slender face with a burn mark just over her right eye. Raven raised his eyebrows at the sight of her, the very warmth of his blood seemed to be stolen away by her astonishing beauty. Like the dwarf she was wearing chainmail and had a long broadsword tied to her waist.

He quickly tore his gaze away from her as he saw her begin to turn that way. Then it was that the past thought reoccurred to him, when our those blasted people supposed to get here? I told them the Falling Lantern Pub didn’t I? He thought with annoyance, blowing a large puff of smoke from the end of his pipe. It was then he noticed the dwarf and woman making their way through the loud conversing crowd of the tavern toward him. “Oi there, you be Raven eh?” the deep voice of the dwarf spoke loudly as they came to his table. The beautiful maiden was examining him closely and shook her head, blowing her fallen red bangs from her face. “Indeed, Raven is my name. Are you the two demon slayers Sir Osrin spoke of? Though nay, he didn’t say one of you would be a woman.” He questioned thoughtfully, leaning forward and knocking the end of his pipe on the table.
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[Wolf]

accepted;;

Dun forget the claims! I'm jealous of your play-by, by the way.