DM: Orik Vancaskerkin

Standing in the doorway or within the room, straight across the hall from the room you are all crowded, stands a man in his late twenties.

He is ruggedly handsome, with a stern visage. His facial bone structure is strong, with a slight hook on his nose, a strong straight mouth, and olive skin. He stands just over six foot tall, and looks athletic of build.

He is wearing banded mail, but is unarmed (although there is a small knife on his belt). Behind him you see another small living quarter, similar in size and layout to the one you are in now. Within the room you can see a large bastard sword, and heavy steel shield, the face of the shield crafted to represent the visage of some stern god or man.

He has a cowled hood over this head that he throws down to reveal more of his face. His hair is long and black, tied and oiled into a tight tail.

“What is all of this about?” he asks.

“Are you more of that woman's sycophants, or has someone finally decided to end her life?” he continues, leaning nonchalantly on the door frame.