Description
At six feet tall, in a world running rampant with Giants and Ogres, Malus doesn't seem like a formidable force. He's always seen wearing a tattered, black floor-length coat that seems to flow with his every move. Dark gray fingerless gloves cover his hands, and on his feet are pure black boots. His shirt and pants are featureless black garments, masked by an unidentifiable aura of mystery around the coat. His eyes are dark, almost impossible to see beneath the brim of his tattered black hat. His grizzled stubble exudes an aura of nature and the elements, suggesting that he spends much of his time alone in the wilderness. Those around him feel that he may harbor an extreme evil, but these feelings are offset by a general, vague knowledge of evil destroyed by the mysterious figure.
Personality
Malus isn't one for talking. Although he will acknowledge those around him when addressed, he prefers to be alone in most situations. In battle, he's always willing to take up a companion when necessary, but friendship is never what he's looking for. Little is known about him, as he keeps to himself in most situations.
Equipment
Other than his clothing, he carries no visible weapons or equipment. There are rumors that he may posses an ancient sword dating back to the days of Myth, but there is no one to substantiate these fleeting whispers.
History
Although little is known about Malus, it has been said that his past is dark and ominous. There are those that say he is hundreds of years old, somehow not aging like normal men. He is human in appearance, but many suspect that he may be something completely different; something much more powerful. In recent history, it is known that he travels from realm to realm, vanquishing evil wherever he wanders.
So begins...
Quickpaw Hurojo awakes after having been asleep for several years. Around the area was only void. It was empty. Dark. Cold. "Where... where have the spirits placed me?" He started patting his body all over; ensuring that he was corporeal. "Not dead; that's a plus." Though there was no time to lose. If he was corporeal, that likely means that he could return to the world he knew, and hopefully return to his king. He began running, hoping to find an exit to this ethereal obscurity.
Sibael Rhodwyn looked around, finally staring one of the strangers in the face, "I don't remember you. Any of you, to be frank."