5’9" tall brown hair and goatee. Strong but lean. Usually wears solid, sturdy clothes—the kind that cost a fair amount of money, but are more function than form.

His chain-mail is well maintained and of incredibly high quality—just the sort of thing an officer of noble birth would be likely to have.


Handsome, brash and strong, Padraig is the epitome of a badboy. While some would call him cocky, he prefers confident.

His rugged good looks and cocksure demeanor means he never spends a night alone if he doesn’t want to. His clipped accent alludes to noble status, and the manner in which he eats and handles himself in public confirm it. Though he’s never given a last name, it’s obvious he is a son of some minor or middleing house.

More than capable of taking care of himself in a fight, his warhammer is a frightening sight, capable of taking out plate armor as if were not there. An educated observer would be able to tell he had extensive training in the Palaiologian Army, and by the ease in which he takes control of a situation, an officer of some sort.

If that observer happened to see him riding a horse, and was particularly astute, he’d know that Padraig was a kataphraktos, or heavy cavalryman. His horse is a stout, strong specimen and Padraig takes great pride in caring for him.

Padraig never allows a conversation to focus on himself for too long, deftly sidestepping questions of his past, or his family and redirecting the conversation to some other “more interesting” topic.

Those that Padraig travels with can tell he is far more comfortable outside the Empire than in. Inside of it’s borders he tenses up and attempts to (usually unsuccessfully) tone down his brashness. He is also keen to avoid any interaction with the authorities or soldiers.

When he finds himself in the capital, he attempts to keep an even lower profile and often attempts to change his appearance—coal dust to make his brown hair black, shaving his goatee off and often wearing clothes more suited to a farmer than a skilled mercenary; doing his best to blend in and stay out of sight.

It’s apparent the he’s hiding from someone, or something, but none of his compatriots know what is haunting him.


Swords Against Sorcery ardentspork Sarcasmo