* Name: Vasthil Zorastyl
     * Sex: Male
     * Weight: Approximately 160 pounds
     * Height: Six feet
     * Race: Human
     * Build: Mesomorphic
     * Hair Color: Slightly purple brunette
     * Eye Color: Sky Blue
     * Skin Color: Slightly tanned
     * Skin Type: Soft, nubile
     * Occupation: BAAAARD
     * Orientation: Heterosexual

  Vasthil was always one for the arts. Always playing an instrument, painting, singing, writing, taking in scenery, cooking, cleaning, baking.. These were his simple joys in life. The world of fighting, swinging swords, swearing, tossing curses each way and that until one person couldn't stand the words through the harsh air.. Weren't his favorite. He was more refined, more regal in his crafts, and that is what he was known for. One could call him a 'king without a crown', or a 'lord with no title', as each step he strode, each foot that trodded upon the cobble, seemed to burn in his gait at how noble he acted.

  Cold, sky blue eyes shift towards your direction from chisled features and a rather pedestalled face. Cold would not begin to describe his general demanor, however. Each glance seemed to give way to how angry he might've been at any given point, and such being said? He always looked angry. Simple it was how he looked, but so complex if one gazed too long. Face devoid of wrinkles, aside from the temporary ones created by a scowl that dripped upon who he might've found unsavory.

  A slightly above average six feet loomed over most normal heights in Sinfar with a almost condescending look and aura which burned about this man. Each glance that shifted from his body seemed to show how little he might've cared, or even if he cared at all. A constant 'no fucks given' demeanour slithered from the pores of his man's own aura which one could categorize as a discordant melody of his own control, or an unwavering movement in his eyes which seemed to appraise and affix a price on everything. Perhaps he was a wealthy merchant? That was only one possibility of what he could be.

  His gait seemed to consist of heavy, yet calculated steps that drove forward with an unstoppable movement, as if driven by something burning deep within his core. Was this really the case? Or was he just too cocky for his own right? Either way, he seemed to move forth with heavier swings of his arms, whipping through the air, and steps that didn't glide across, but seemed to push into and shift the cobble to his own advantage, giving him the easiest way to progress forward with his surroundings.

         ~> OOC <~

I'm an extremely tell friendly player, so don't hesitate to strike up conversation with me, whether it's compliments or ways I can improve my writing/characters! I also enjoy OOC chats, so send me a tell or a few.

Lights won't be listed as this character is in a monogamous relationship and I'm not looking to ERP with anyone else outside of that relation whilst on this character.