Buy each moment of happiness with a drip of your blood, otherwise you do not know the worth of what you got
-Kjar  



As you step closer you see a man, obviously a soldier, standing in front of you, Looming with his six feet and some inches out of the sea of most people. Broadshouldered, muscled and covered in a plated armour and wielding a large scythe he would calmly return your stare. The armor itself seems to give only a little bit of indication about the wearer. By now the use and age of the pieces is notable, the armor having been the companion of the man along an already long road. Leaving not any chance of sight onto any part or bit of the wearers skin, the armor wraps like a second skin around him. Between the plates of metal somone could note the gambezon and fitting protection in a many layers of silk. Those knowing spidersilk, were to recognise the origin of the dark material. The alloy dark enough to even swallow light itself and shadows seemed always a small bit longer around him. Spikes and curved blades emerge from this armored mans arms, legs and shoulderplates. A spiked helmet completes the appearance, displaying the antic of a horned beast or demon. A dark cloak, attached to the shoulderblades follows the warrior like a small stormcloud. The heavy cloak of leather seen much the same use as the armor. It was furred inside to protect from any source of heavy weather and the dark leather on the outside was tanned and worn by the sun and seasons. Yet there is no way to look into or even behind the visor. Every moment the sun seems to shine into the helmet a darkness in it swallows the rays and his face is hidden again by comfortable night. On his shoulder rests most times a large scythe, yet it doesn´t seem he would harvest wheat when using it, Having a black adamantene shaft and blade it fits to the armor, as if it was made only for this armor. On the blades base someone painted and carved a reddish nameglyph in the tongue of drow. For those who can read it it tells "Kjar". Layers of dark greenish silk and leather was worked intothe armor to show the patterns of vines bark and tree branches in a stark contrast to the engraved plates. On his shoulders he displayes the badges of a mid ranked officer within an army and those who knew the emblem and crest on his tabard and chest would recognise springwood vale.

The sharp side of the scythes blade is able to split a feather falling down onto it and like a foreboding of its illness a single blooddrip always runs from the base of the blade over its sharp side to the tip, only to drop down there, leaving a small mark of uneasyness.

Those being able to see past the armor, will see a muscular drow male, aged actually more than his kind and gender are . Smaller and bigger scars run all over his body, showing the marks of battles and places he ahd been, the things he had seen and the things he had endured. Yet some seem to have been made by stilettos, smaller daggers or even whips. Those scars being preserved by magical or alchemical means as a constant reminder for this male of something in his past. Along his limbs, and back several sigils were carved and cut into his body and were radiating with a magical aura for those who could note such. And intrestingly enough on the grips of his weapon and the inside of his armored plates someone could find the counterparts to those etched sigils. A single mark of a large beasts bite left a scar on his chest above his heart, where obviously he was once lunged on and fangs had dug into. The temperature of his body was a lot higher than someone might think healthy for his kind and radiates an aura of heat to those standing close with him. He was not uncomfortable with it thought and rarely someone would see a bead of sweat on his skin. Standing in contrast to the dark armor and skin a mane of white hair, bound into many small braids falls from his back. Small gems, glass and metalshards were bound into those braids as garments, shimmering in any source of light when he moved. Around his neck he  wore a thin chain and along the chain  some old badges and marks were dandling as a reminder of his past times. Sigils from different drowish houses and homes were like tags resting along his chest.  A golden A among them.

((as for Reds they be the common sense usuals, if curious shoot a tell Player is very tell friendly :) ))