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Ser Thorburn Grimbeorn


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Ser Thorburn Grimbeorn

 

Name: Ser Thorburn Grimbeorn

 

Age: 51

 

Title: The Wolf Of Courland

 

Race: Human

 

Appearance:

 

Thorburn stands at 6’3”, easily taller than most men. He is very muscular, a testament to his continuous training from the moment he could walk. He has broad shoulders and a toned stomach. His limbs are strong, capable of doing strenuous activities for long periods of time.His build is perfect for a soldier and a man who lives in the North. He has pitch black short hair and hazel eyes. He also has a well trimmed beard. His skin tone is normal, despite the fact he doesn't feel the sun very often.

 

He wears a suit of armor, as black as night, protecting every part of his body. He also wears a helmet shaped to resemble a wolf, made of the same black metal as his armor. Above his armor, he has a black tabard with red lining at the end. On the center of the tabard, he has a small full moon. On his back he has a thick leather covering, red in colour, protecting him from cold and weak attacks. He has a utilty belt strapped around his waist, made of leather. It holds multiple pouches.

 

Equipment:

 

Most of Thorburn's equipment lies in his utility belt. It holds a medical kit, light transportable tools, some documents, vials, some flint and a few daggers.  

Strapped on his utility belt are two blades. One is a normal Ferrum shortsword. The other is a black bastard sword, with a wolf's head on the guard. He also has a Cat O Nine Tails strapped on the back of his utility belt, with the Staunton Isnignia on it. In terms of lethal equipment however, Thor doesn't need only his utility belt. He has two small blades seathed on each of his boots. His gauntlets are sharpened and designed in a way that he can use them without damaging himself.

 

Personality:

 

Thorburn has a toneless, yet husky at the same time, voice which makes those who hear him both alarmed and intrigued by him. He rarely displays any sort of emotion, not even pain. However, he is always helpful and supportive. On the battlefield however, he is a completely different person. He barely shows mercy and he never shows his emotions. He emits a high amount of controlled bloodlust, which combined with his wolf helmet, make him look like a monster.

 

Habits:

 

Despite being 50 years old, Thorburn is usually found training. He spends many hours the day honing his abilities and pushing his body to it's limits and beyond. He prefers training with blades, though he is a master of any other weapon, and will sometimes practice with an axe, a warhammer, a morning star or a pike.  He spends one hour every day inside the Courland Church or in his private chapel, praying and strengthening his faith to God. He can also be found in his office, studying, doing paperwork or managing different projects of his. Whenever he has free time, he goes for a walk around Courland, sits on the beach or on a mountain enjoying a view or sits in his room near the fire enjoying a good bottle of wine.

Family:

 

Son: Classified

 





 

(This is a wip. More will be filled later on.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Richard would look at Thorburn from a distance as he is sparring with some men. 
"Now /that/  is Duke's Guard material.."

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"He would make a fine Dunamis recruit that one." says Ioannis as he watches them from afar.

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"Not the type of man you would want to cross if you fancy your head atop your shoulders" Asher would comment quietly

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Garsto smiles upon his friend "A good lad this one is." He says, "surprised he doesn't have a girlfriend."

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"I beat this man in a duel." boasts Osgod to an unnamed Carnatian peasant.

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Thorburn looks towards an unnamed Carnatian peasant who was boasting about some Osgod beating Thorburn to a duel. He then remembers a guy outrunning him through the gates when he was carrying an anvil. The guy yelled "I beat you!" and was pointing at him "Must have been that guy." he shrugs emotionlessly.

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"A model soldier," mentions the Duke of Courland to one of his lieutenants, "Train the rest to be like him."

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Bishop Johannes of Courland nods his head to the model Canonist when he sees him in the streets of Riga. 

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"Fock wit' him yer' head goes clean off," Axel would comment, only going to speak again,

"Befriend him and yer' a badass just like himself Lucky me," he would finish, a grin forming on his face.

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