Post by Borea Grimm on Oct 7, 2024 5:38:16 GMT
Borea Grimm
THE BASICS
Name: Borea
Gender: Male (He/Him)
Age: 34 | Winter
Current residence: Sela
Occupation: Artificer
Social standing: Wanderer
Loyalty: Unaligned
APPEARANCE
Face claim: Joe Manganiello
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 231 lbs
Description: Borea Grimm exudes a raw, magnetic allure that is impossible to ignore, a man whose very presence seemed to hum with untamed energy. His hands—large, firm, and calloused from countless hours spent at the forge. Each touch of his fingers, whether upon the cool metal of his creations or something far more delicate, promised good results.
Dark, tousled hair falls just past his shoulders, occasionally tied back, framing his strong, angular face and accentuating the deep lines of his jaw. The disheveled look adds an edge of wildness to his appeal, but it is his eyes—those molten gold orbs—that captivated most. They smoldered with the fire of his craft, flickering with a heat that hinted at the depth of his hunger, both for knowledge and for something far more primal. There is a darkness there. When he looked at someone, it is as if he could see through layers of pretense, stripping away defenses with the same ease he strip raw materials down.
Borea’s body is a tribute to his work. Lean yet defined, his muscles flex subtly beneath the fabric of his fitted tunic, which hugs his torso just enough to reveal the shape of his physique without being overtly revealing. His clothing has deep, earthy tones—and a muted green and rich brown. The sleeves of his tunic are rolled up, exposing forearms that bare the faint scars of his craft, each mark a story of hours spent laboring.
His trousers, durable yet comfortable, are cinched at the waist with a leather belt, from which hung various tools of his trade—small hammers, chisels, and pouches filled with magical cores, each item worn and well-used. The fabric shifts effortlessly with his movements, allowing him to navigate his workshop and the world beyond with an ease that spoke of confidence and control.
As he moves, there is a certain grace to him, each step deliberate, every motion charged with a quiet, unique tension. And when his voice, low and rough, escaped his lips, it carried a command that made the air itself seem to tighten. He is a man who makes one want to surrender, not because he demanded it, but because it is impossible to resist the gravity of him.
Dark, tousled hair falls just past his shoulders, occasionally tied back, framing his strong, angular face and accentuating the deep lines of his jaw. The disheveled look adds an edge of wildness to his appeal, but it is his eyes—those molten gold orbs—that captivated most. They smoldered with the fire of his craft, flickering with a heat that hinted at the depth of his hunger, both for knowledge and for something far more primal. There is a darkness there. When he looked at someone, it is as if he could see through layers of pretense, stripping away defenses with the same ease he strip raw materials down.
Borea’s body is a tribute to his work. Lean yet defined, his muscles flex subtly beneath the fabric of his fitted tunic, which hugs his torso just enough to reveal the shape of his physique without being overtly revealing. His clothing has deep, earthy tones—and a muted green and rich brown. The sleeves of his tunic are rolled up, exposing forearms that bare the faint scars of his craft, each mark a story of hours spent laboring.
His trousers, durable yet comfortable, are cinched at the waist with a leather belt, from which hung various tools of his trade—small hammers, chisels, and pouches filled with magical cores, each item worn and well-used. The fabric shifts effortlessly with his movements, allowing him to navigate his workshop and the world beyond with an ease that spoke of confidence and control.
As he moves, there is a certain grace to him, each step deliberate, every motion charged with a quiet, unique tension. And when his voice, low and rough, escaped his lips, it carried a command that made the air itself seem to tighten. He is a man who makes one want to surrender, not because he demanded it, but because it is impossible to resist the gravity of him.
BEHAVIOR
Strengths: Intelligent, Tenacious, Passionate
Weaknesses: Stubborn, Brooding, Distrustful
Motivation: Grimm is driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge and a deep-seated passion for magic.
Personality: Borea’s sharp mind and extensive knowledge of magic make him quite formidable, fueled by an insatiable curiosity and passion for the arcane. He approaches his studies with relentless tenacity, often pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. This dedication, however, comes at a cost, leaving him isolated and often misunderstood. While his towering height and imposing bear-like form create an intimidating facade, Borea’s true nature resembles that of a gentle giant. His demeanor can shift dramatically based on the circumstances; he is ruthless and strategic in battle, using his intellect to outmaneuver opponents. Outside of conflict, however, he tends to be guarded and introspective, revealing little of his inner thoughts or vulnerabilities. Though fiercely loyal to the few who share his fascination with magic, he remains antisocial, preferring solitude over the complexities of interpersonal relationships. Perhaps he is still searching for a worthy soul to help him lower his walls—if such a being even exists.
HERITAGE
Birthplace: Borea was born in the frosty realm of Daín
Family: Borea comes from a long line of formidable warriors known for their innate strength and combat prowess, each expected to join the ranks of the Doomcallers, a path of power and dominance over magic. While he bears the weight of this legacy, he stands apart from his kin.
History: His childhood was woven from threads of rigorous training and somber rituals. Each evening, flickering candlelight illuminated his family’s darkened hall, the dim light casting shadows over a large table at the center. Maps sprawled across it, held down by stone figures placed strategically. Yet amid the whispers of war, Borea found solace in the soft glow of magic- though not in the way his family intended.
In this world only those who possess a portion of the jewel have access to magic in its purest form. However, magical items could be found that housed magic cores, relics of a time when raw magic flowed freely. These enchanted cores resonated with untamed power, and Borea found them fascinating. While his kin sharpened their blades and plotted for power, Borea was drawn to old blueprints and tomes. He gathered knowledge, seeking a way to unlock the magic that lay just beyond his natural reach.
Late at night, when his family slept, Borea would slip away to his hidden refuge at the Aether Falls in Dain. Beneath the stars, which seemed to hum with magic themselves. He worked with rudimentary tools and salvage cores, crafting small devices. Lanterns flickered with arcane light, and gloves crackled with elemental sparks. He discovered that while magic might not flow through him directly, he could forge it into objects, controlling its power through his creations.
In this world only those who possess a portion of the jewel have access to magic in its purest form. However, magical items could be found that housed magic cores, relics of a time when raw magic flowed freely. These enchanted cores resonated with untamed power, and Borea found them fascinating. While his kin sharpened their blades and plotted for power, Borea was drawn to old blueprints and tomes. He gathered knowledge, seeking a way to unlock the magic that lay just beyond his natural reach.
Late at night, when his family slept, Borea would slip away to his hidden refuge at the Aether Falls in Dain. Beneath the stars, which seemed to hum with magic themselves. He worked with rudimentary tools and salvage cores, crafting small devices. Lanterns flickered with arcane light, and gloves crackled with elemental sparks. He discovered that while magic might not flow through him directly, he could forge it into objects, controlling its power through his creations.
Then came the day of the raid.
The Doomcallers, fervent in their belief that the jewel should be united under one supreme leader, had set their sights on the Weavers. Them who sough to maintain balance among the four, where declared heretics by its opposition. The raid was a direct assault on their faith, and their temple. Borea’s family reveled in the coming destruction. They spoke of how the chapels would burn, but Borea’s heart recoiled at the thought. The balance the Weavers fought to preserve echoed the delicate equilibrium he had come to admire. He could no longer ignore it-
Standing at a crossroads he was forced to make a choice. With resolve ignited, he made his decision- under the cover of night, he would get his tools and flee, leaving behind the path his family had laid out for him.
He found refuge in Sela, a distant place where his art with magic tech would be valued and coveted. Here Borea honed his craft, and one he would continue to refine for years to come.
The Doomcallers, fervent in their belief that the jewel should be united under one supreme leader, had set their sights on the Weavers. Them who sough to maintain balance among the four, where declared heretics by its opposition. The raid was a direct assault on their faith, and their temple. Borea’s family reveled in the coming destruction. They spoke of how the chapels would burn, but Borea’s heart recoiled at the thought. The balance the Weavers fought to preserve echoed the delicate equilibrium he had come to admire. He could no longer ignore it-
Standing at a crossroads he was forced to make a choice. With resolve ignited, he made his decision- under the cover of night, he would get his tools and flee, leaving behind the path his family had laid out for him.
He found refuge in Sela, a distant place where his art with magic tech would be valued and coveted. Here Borea honed his craft, and one he would continue to refine for years to come.
PLAYER INFO
Name: Nightcloak
Pronouns: He/Him
Contact: Discord
Last Edit: Oct 10, 2024 2:36:56 GMT by Borea Grimm
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