Prince Locke Velenosa
It's hard to not like a person who not only notices the colors, but speaks them.
Description: Heavily molded by the harsh climes encompassing Northern Arvum, Locke has the physique of a rock-climber or swimmer; well-defined, especially in upper arm strength, but not necessarily as broadly built as a bear-wrestling northerner might be. Sharp facial features and angles bring together Locke's appearance, decorated further with dark hair and an adequately kept beard. He teeters the line of appearing scruffy and agile, yet entirely carefully composed and dignified -- a natural talent, much like his ability to keep in shape while purportedly pouring in little effort.
Personality: When the days feel especially long, Locke has a penchant for mischievousness; his quick wit and silver tongue most often used in the spirit of entertainment. These traits, paired with confidence carried high on broad shoulders, may easily have him mistaken for uncaring about the world he lives and breathes. This is true to a degree, but the things that he deems interesting or important enough to care for are cared for fiercely and intimately.
Typical Northern activities are generally met with mild reluctance, often resulting in his arrival out of "obligation and nothing more." Realistically speaking, he enjoys nearly all the fragments of what makes a good party -- people, drink, music, and deeper engagement of the sorts, but what Locke truly excels at are the smaller arrangements -- the kind where connections are forged, and stories conceived.
While Locke is more often than not nonchalant and easygoing, he doesn't hesitate to speak his mind or add a dash of spice to any current on-goings if he feels particularly inclined. Whether he's sharp or sweet depends entirely on the present cycle of the moon, the weather, or any other minute thing. His mind most definitely works in mysterious ways.
Background: Often found perched in haylofts at a young age with his nose buried in a thick book, quietly observing the discussions of the nobles who visited the keep or at the elbow of Redrain mercies, chamberlains, and alchemists -- Locke's curiosity and desire to learn was insatiable, and his quick mind and sharp wit made him an excellent student for famed scholar Dame Judyth of Sanctum... or so his mother, Lady Annya Crovane (formerly of House Telmar), had thought.
As it turns out, his participation and retention depended heavily on his interest on the subject, and his interest on any one particular thing was never immediately obvious. As no surprise to his siblings, Locke never sat still doing one thing -- his habits, interests, and occupation changed frequently enough to carve a wild story -- but on his eighteenth birthday, he was summoned home, to be wed soon-after to a Lycene princess of renown beauty and wit.
Although the two proved to be a wonderful match, their union was short-lived -- roughly a year into the marriage, the two were attacked in the dead of the night by unknown assailants, leaving Locke gravely injured and his wife but a memory. To compound his loss, several weeks later there were whispers of a terrible plague at Locke's former occupancy -- the aftermath sending him to Arx, to be with his family once more.
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