Of no consequence to the casual bystander, a beaming paragon of knighthood and stoicism is amongst the crowd.

His face, appear chiseled at the hands of bygone artisans, radiates leadership, and perfection in resplendency. His ever-present, vigilant gaze is set upon the horizon with anticipation, which tilts his head just slightly above others'. His head is framed by a nearly ethereal mane of hair; black as night and full of luster. The only thing it fails to diminish in eloquence is his appraising stare.

This comes then as no surprise that this tall figure, so commanding, so awe-inspiring, is clade within an armor which appears almost mythical, with only the occasional mortal blemish upon it in a glaring, perhaps ironic juxtaposition. Beneath this veneer of divinity, one would expect to find no less than a herald of the gods.