Grannd Mac Alasdair

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• Vital Stats

  • Name: Grannd Mac Alasdair
  • Gender: Male
  • Played by: ExpertSpecter
  • Race: Fox
  • Class: Duelist
  • Alignment: Neutral
  • Age: 25
  • Size: Average
  • Body Type: Lean
  • Height: 5'5
  • Weight: 135 lbs
  • Complexion: Sleek
  • Hair: Red, bound in a ponytail
  • Eyes: Blue
  • Handedness: Right handed
  • Relationship Status: Taken
  • Personality: A bit eccentric at times
  • Mannerisms: Usually jovial, most of the time over-the-top
  • Likes: Intelligence, Money, Finery, Flowers, Dancing, Ale, A good Jig.
  • Dislikes: Jerks, People he doesn't respect, Cabbage.

• Description

  His eyes peered out before him, though on first look jovial as was his appearance. But a deeper knowledge seemed to pool in them. He was lavishly dressed, one always for a little bit of show. Atop his head sat a wide brim fedora, colored sea blue as was the reigning color of his clothing. From the hat spouted a large hawk feather which was carefully placed for obvious flair. His cloak always seemed to hang a little open, proudly displaying his clean pressed uniform. Light leather armour over a silk shirt. At his sides hung a rapier, complete with fine gold filigree, as well as a wide bladed dirk with a wide pommel curved up. Clipped into his belt, opposite side of his rapier, was a rather pretty and finely crafted metal rose. His mark emblazoned upon the back of his cloak showed proud and free. He was not the tallest, or the broadest man, but he walk tall and in silence. His footfalls as light as one who intimately knew the rapier's cold grasp.

• Biography

  Grannd was born to a farming family back in his homeland of Scotland. Unfortunately for some, that was not meant to be his destiny. His father ran off when he was 3 years old to fight against foreign powers attempting to gain control of Scotland. His mother, unable to bear the thought of raising a family alone, sent him off to relatives in Ireland when he was 5. Unbeknownst to his mother, the family had been indebted to a local mercenary band for protection. They traded the new mouth to feed without question, not much caring for the burden. His new life was just beginning. He enjoyed his work with the band of mercenaries, always loving to here their tales of faraway lands. At the age of 13, he got his chance to join the ranks as a foot soldier. Within 10 years of joining, he had watched the band of misfits turn into a reputable army for hire. Having earned his merits on the field, as well as from the command tent, he was given leave to join the scouting corps. Unlike most spies, his job was more of a recruiter. So that is his story. And it would seem that The Noble House of Commons, as the mercenaries refer to themselves, has found their way to Kasuria.