Name: Wren (Malog Bur Grishnag)
Race: Orc
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Age:32
Physical appearance: Not quite at six feet, Malog, or Wren, as he prefers to be called, stands at 5'11 and weighs nearly two hundred pounds, most of which is honed muscle. His broad shoulders and thick brow lend him an intimidating quality, which often works in his favour, should he feel like intimidating someone.
His dark hair is cut short, his eyes, an unusual pale blue, have a piercing quality about them. His hands and arms are marked with an assortment of scars. Despite being an orc, he's got minimalistic tusks, and is often remarked on as being fairly handsome...for an orc.
Personality: Wren is more than a little knowledgeable of the attitude towards his kin. He also knows that responding aggressively to aggression is a great way to confirm the bias of many. Because of this, Wren is a reserved, respectful individual, who is slow to anger, and quick to remind others that an open mind is always valuable.
He believes in following the laws of the land, so long as they do not prevent him from helping those who are obviously in need. Though his exposure to the world has long been polluted by racist slurs, he strongly believes cooperation is the best solution to most problems.
Weapons: A steel bastard sword, well maintained and well used. The weapon has saved Wren's life on many occasions, though he rarely draws it in anger.
Armour: Steel plate, leather, and chainmail. The vestments of a proper knight. Though he does not wear the full plate leggings, as he has no warhorse to ride upon, and little in the way of means to maintain a full set of knightly armour. Over the armour, he wears a deep red surcoat.
Misc.Gear: A traveling cloak, dried rations, a moderately filled coinpurse.
Background: Born to a breton knight and an orc blacksmith, Malog was looked down on by both breton and orc children alike. Bretons, because of his orcish heritage, and orcs, because of his 'weak blood'. Malog spent much of his time on his own, reading, or 'sparring' with his father.
As he grew older, he made a serious request to be trained in the ways of knighthood. Originally skeptical, his father trained him in the ways of chivalry. Though it took nearly a decade, by the time Malog's training was complete, he was a full fledged knight, ready to take on the world.
Granted a sword smithed by his mothers' hand, he set out. And was confronted with the brutal reality, that people all too often set their personal biases ahead of the truth. He struggled to fit in, often having his offers of aid turned away simply because of his race. So it is with more than a little relief that he accepts the letter, written by the high king of Skyrim, and heads to that snowy kingdom.
Dialogue: This deep red.