Eugene Caylerth
I rather you just pick a hand and be done with it than dance round this shitefest. Let's be about it!
Social Rank: 8
Concept: Brash Blacksmith
Fealty:
Valardin
Family:
Caylerth
Gender: male
Marital Status: single
Age: 36
Birthday: 04/12
Religion: Pantheon
Vocation: Blacksmith
Height: tall
Hair Color: brown
Eye Color: grey
Skintone: white
Description: The man was by no means a mountain but perhaps he could pass as a boulder perched atop of it. Burly was a good word for him; built of strong stock and tall enough to support the frame that cut him into quite an athletic specimen, if not a bit freakish. He could have easily been misconstrued for a mountain man. A matted collection of brown hair ran down to about his shoulders, greased back to get out of his way and sported with a pair of thick mutton chops. Upon his upper lip sat a rather large and prominent mustache, greased as his hair with a fine oil the same as his hair. Between the mess of hair, his pale grey eyes cut across to add a layer of trepidation when approaching the man yet all could be disarmed just by him opening his mouth.
Personality: Eugene is not one to keep himself when he has something to voice or be made known. His mouth has gotten him into trouble previous times over, but he is managing to know that there is a time and place for such things. His first inclination is to apply brute force to a problem that someone else would normally think outside the box for.
Background: Eugene found himself moving from town to town in the Oathlands, given his father's trade as a wandering blacksmith. Home was never really home for long as demand kept the Caylerth family on the road for weeks at a time. When he was of fine age, it was Eugene's turn to help where his brothers had; one having been enlisted in the provincial militia and another to a pox. Training abroad found Eugene taking up the family trade while his father ensured that old military contacts would be able to train his son in the ways of war.
| Name | Summary |
| Amari | I can't help but feel some sympathy for the man, and admiration of that giant hammer. He could work on his manners though. |
| Corrigan | My brother in cookware-related head injuries, apparently. We make strange bedfellows, but I suppose we can bond over the trauma. |
| Jules | He's a new arrival to the city. He seems as though he's not talkative but quite willing to talk about what he does know. Anyone willing to both talk and listen is worth spending a meal with. |
| Katherine | The man is a fool. Only by the grace of my beloved cousin am I am willing to entertain future conversation with him. I look forward to seeing just what other traits this man possesses. |
| Orelia | Never goes anywhere without that maul of his. Is it special, or does he just like to stay armed? |
| Rane | A brute of a man that needs to learn a thing or two about proper decorum when addressing the nobility. If my cousin Brigid can keep the reins on him, perhaps we'll be social again in the future. By the look of it, his martial talents would be usual in battle. |
| Ras | Got a horse named Duckard. Friends with the barkeep at the Murder. Does funny awkward things like hittin on a baroness' cousin. Big hammer. |
| Tanith | Man's been gone a spell, but it's good to see the mustache'd blacksmith back in the city! I'm sure the ladies will pine and the men will swoon and I'll be here, laughing at it all. |