Klaus Rosenzylch [Vikare]

[Klaus]

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[bg=white] Name // Klaus S. Rosenzylch Gender // Male Species // (a rather fluffy) Great Horned Owl Age // 81 Chantings Position // Constable of Altarspire Clan // Vikare Magical Affinity // Dream Magical Fluency // Sage Born // 5.1132 in Sehali Lives // Winterheld, Altarspire Family // Father deceased, mother unknown, no siblings [style=border:0px; border-bottom:1px dashed #8b3931; width:100%;][/style] Physical: A semi-ref can be found here. Klaus is rather small for the Himaryn norm, as most of his looks come from the abundance of feathers he has. He is abnormally "fluffy" for a great horned, which makes him rather well adapted for his Altarspire home. He tends to joke that his mother was a snowy owl, as he features the covered feet and insulating quality that such a species would normally have. He features about a five foot wingspan, and is a rather accomplished flier. He is more comfortable than most skimming the strange thermals and drafts of the Altarspire region, though doesn't make a habit of risking his life to prove it. His plumage mostly consists of a light gray up front, and a dull, dark brownish red in back. His chest is dotted with dark red and white, and his chin and neck are a pure white. His head is capped with the dark red, while his "horns" and upper eyelids are an even darker version of it. The fluff around his beak, and around the sides of his facial disc, are a bright red. The dark from his back sweeps down to his tail, which is completely bright red, and up over his wings to cover almost the entire backs of them, as well as the marginal coverts in front. The primary and secondary coverts on the front, ventral are white, and the primaries and secondaries on both dorsal and ventral are a bright red. His beak and talons are a dark brown, almost black, and his eyes are a gray-flecked white with the normal black pupils. Occasionally Klaus will don a heavily ornamented armor set, inherited from his father. It it mostly steel in its make, features quite a bit of leather, and is decorated with many feather, wing, and floral motifs. It includes a set of metal "claws" that he can fasten on his feet, acting as miniature, metal daggers at the end of each toe. Historical: Klaus was the illegitimate child of a soldier on the Northern Front and Someone-Somewhere-at-Sometime. He was raised solely by this soldier, his father, and his first "home" was among the camps of the Front. As this was generally not considered a very child-friendly place, Klaus received a childhood rather different than most of those of the Vikare Clan, knowing not much more than rationed meals and tents in bad weather. What the young owl really thrived off of, though, were the stories of Kosov that his father would tell him. Stories of grandeur, of lush gardens and ornate villas, of schools and libraries and the educated, temperate elite. The fledgling grew up imagining this as the ideal he could live up to, as soon as he was old enough to travel by himself (or his father was allowed leave, whichever came first). What came first, though, was a little more heart-wrenching for the owlet. His father was killed during a skirmish with the enemy, much sooner than either of them would have liked to be separated. Confused and alone, Klaus worked for his bread doing small-time jobs within the camp, until he left for Kosov, by himself, during his teenage years. Expecting the wonderland city his father had told him about, to say Klaus was disillusioned would be a dreadful understatement. Unlike the forcibly banded military life, he found a heavily segregated society with elite that were far from temperate. He felt uncomfortable alongside his Vikarean peers, and the bustle of the city wore heavy on his patience and energy. The fact that his father had spoken so highly of the place filled him with a sort of heartbreaking pity, since the stories of his youth seemed now incredibly naive. Wanting to get away from all that, the young bird took up traveling in the less explored places of Himaryn, taking advantage of his winged state to traverse some usually unmanageable terrain. This turned into quite a long affair for him, as he eventually took up mercenary work and made himself a rather nice living at it for a while. Such work got him noticed, and that "noticing" has got him to the position at which he sits now: as an enforcer of law in the wildest place he could possibly find. Personal: The bird may initially come off as an amicable but distant fellow. Klaus doesn't like sharing his personal information and he doesn't particularly want to hear your life story either, but if you're in need of food or drink or a hearth, he'd be glad to point you in the right direction. He is probably one of the least brash ruffians one is likely to meet, as he minds his p's and q's and is sure to say "thank you." Chances are he appears to be a bit daft and oblivious to the world around him, and never really makes the impression that a Constable probably should. However the bumbling, merry ball of feathers turns into an altogether different person when the situation presents itself. He is a terribly driven worker, near to the point of perfectionism, and rarely likes to leave a task once started unfinished. He is ruthless in upholding his own morals of right and wrong, which usually (and thankfully) coincide with the laws of the land, and has little sympathy for those that have none themselves. He finds the idea of unnecessary, untriggered cruelty as alien as the stars, and much less beautiful to boot. Overall, Klaus is someone who values a strong work ethic, a good moral compass, and a good joke now and then. If one can feature those, one should find little trouble in gaining his confidence and friendship. Political: Fluffball is, quite frankly, very lucky that he makes his residence far from Kosov, and with very few others around him. When the mood takes him he can be very loud, and very critical, with his opinions regarding the current state of Himaryn, and this isn't exactly the best thing to be as a high official. Unlike a lot of Vikare, he believes most everyone is the same, regardless of Clan, after they've dragged themselves out of the snow and hail. Of course, he'd say, there are fundamental differences that may eventually show themselves, but it doesn't change a cold nose or empty stomach, and to pretend otherwise is simple idiocy. Of course, this is easier said from a seat of relative luxury, but his not-so-luxurious upbringing also had quite a large say in his opinion on the matter of class. Everyone dies the same, bleeds the same, and, quite frankly, lies just about the same too. There's not a lot of sense in pretending you're better simply because you've had it better, he'd say. Basically: shut up, mind yourself, and help your neighbors when you can, you idiot. Unless they're undead. Then they're creepy and should probably be asked to go away. :(

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