Description
Soroa was a man of 5'9", his dusty blonde hair topped with black, as one singular ponytail, wrapped tightly from the top of his head down to the tip, which hand near the bottom of his back, swayed, his body clad in a lose cloth, which consisted of two sleeves, purple, with intricate gold designs. A shirt, skin tight and cutting off at the shoulders and stomach, was also along the same design, Below the waist was a half hemmed, half cut dress type bottom, covering only his right leg, leaving his left exposed to be wrapped in the same material, with a few belt buckles. The sleeves he wore were long, but it was evident he was hiding something, his right arm. Upon further inspection, his right arm was constructed of metal, like a knights right arm armor, however, the gloves were replaced with a metal fitting claw, with joins to bend the fingers as if there were no metal. His scarlet eyes having a piercing gaze, as if he could stare into your very mind, your last sanctum. The last remaining piece on his body being a worn black katana, matching it's sheath, strapped to his side, which he rested the metal claw on almost constantly.
Personality
Cold, arrogant, and not at all friendly towards others, he likes to keep his distance, circling a room to get his bearings, he was ready for anything and a fully capable warrior. It seemed he had no soft side, and always thought only of his self betterment
Equipment
The only equipment he bore being his sword, and his metallic claw, all he needed from his journeys.
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."