The Plague of Issarea
A savage-looking warlord with a surprisingly civilized demeanor.
You glance at the doorway to see the one of the most startling sights you’ve seen in a time – A man that looks barely “human”. His hair is dreadlocked and greasy, and he is covered in thick metal armor that looks rusted as though he’s been out in the rain for too long. Strapped to his back is the largest maul you’ve ever seen and on his arms, even on his face, tattoos sprawl across his skin, mostly of tribal and animal motifs.
What manages to be incredulously more startling than his appearance is the fact that he does not fling the door open, nor does he slam it behind him. He walks with a strange air, not one of being nimble, but somehow graceful. Despite the great weight of his equipment, his footfalls are no heavier than the typical commoner who may enter the bar and he seems to make no overt attempt to draw attention to himself, despite the many stares.
Sven is from the Barbarian lands and most looking at him can tell this right away. The civilized lands also have their hunters, outdoorsmen, and rangers, but Sven looks to be quite a bit more removed from civilization than those types.