With the distinct tan of long-worn leather, a balding pate and an apparent age well past fifty, Marius can at times look a bit out of place on the streets of Sinifer.  Looking into his dull brown eyes reveals most often a man whom is tired, making him seem only older still.

Yet standing a hair over six feet and seemingly made of naught but scarred skin stretched tighter over corded muscle, age or no Marius is yet fit as a fiddle, and seems able still to keep himself upright and awake.  He seems fond of his little chin-beared, unkempt though it may be... though without thinking he often tends to tug at the little hairs, as if to check they've not yet balded away, even as he pulls them out two by two.

Most often dressed in a faded tunic of black and gold beneath a dented breastplate, his armor and arms seem likely as old as their owner, or moreso - maintainted well enough, yet often enough to seem a mass of small holes restitched and gaping rents patched.  Across the Marius back is ever his faithful spear, its broad steel blade wrapped carefully in strips of hide.


To any who have risen before dawn to take watch.  To any who have watched night fall over an all-too-still battlefield... who and what this man is, is clear enough.

Marius is a soldier.  Plain and simple.


{ - - -

"Nothing but the rain."

Tell friendly, roleplay is preferred to just sexing, no lights to speak of.