Nikai (prime)

You see Nikai Iridai, a human of Torre. He has sun bronzed leathery skin that covers his tall lean body

where clothes and armor seem a little too large for him. His hair, once thick and dark now thin, white, and

close cut to his scalp. Dark brown eyes peer from his almost gaunt features, sometimes lost and thoughtful,

sometimes intense. He has the strength to wear plate armor, carry a Dwarven shield and Axe. Though by

looking at him he has a lean frame of an older man, you sense his strength comes from his inner fortitude

and willpower, to carry his arms and do what he has to. Veins and bones show through his rough exterior

as well as scars and marks gotten over the years.

He grew up in the home of an elderly woman who took in orphans of any ethnicity. Living in a village near

Rivers Rest, he and his brothers and sister worked at the home helping to farm, fish, and sell things at the

village market. His family consisted of a mix of races; Elven, Dwarven, Halfling, and Human. When the old

woman passed away they all disbanded to seek careers in various trades. Nikai rarely sees or even speaks

to his siblings, though they share lockers to help each other out.

Nikai followed to path of a Warrior, working as an independent adventurer collecting wealth for himself. He

joined Voln after an adventurer named Spusaf helped him enter the sect. He made many friends throughout

his early years, going on many hunting trips and enjoying life. Owning a house was too much of a chore to

him, so he joined the House of Silvergate to shelter himself at the end of the day, or staying at one of the many

satellite Silvergate places at various towns and cities across the lands.

After a while, Nikai left the lands and the life of an adventurer for personal reasons. The friends he left in the

lands would sometimes message him to return. He agreed, though, he never did. After years of absence

Nikai returned to the lands, only to find almost all of his friends had retired for good. There are a few people he

knew from before that stayed active in the lands but time had estranged them. Even more saddening was

when Nikai would meet old friends but with a different spirits that had no memory of him. All he could do was

apologize for bothering them and watch them walk away. Having more time on his hands he had returned to

wander the new lands and resume his training with the new Warriors Guild, though, it has been a quiet and

solitary return. After each hunting foray he would find small comfort sitting in quiet areas, his gaunt frame

hunched upon a stone bench. Cloak drawn snugly to keep himself warm as he puffed thoughtfully on his

pipe. In his advanced years he had hoped to spend time with old friends but it had not turned out that way.

He had sometimes tried to spark a new friendship with someone, but for some reason he would slip back in

solitude. In his old age he found it harder to befriend anyone, he could not fathom why.

Nikai Iridai Hometown A citizen of Wehnimers Landing, but wanders a lot. Class Warrior Profession Self employed Religion Follows Eonak Affiliation(s) Voln, Warrior Guild In-a-Word Listens more than speaks Disposition Quiet, somber Demeanor Sometimes lost in thought Flaw Takes a long time to warm up to anyone Greatest Strength Tries his best over adversity Greatest Weakness Ignores a lot of things that should be addressed Habits Sits and smokes his pipe Hobbies Collects pipe tobacco and flasks Soft Spots Cats and dogs Likes Pipe tobacco and good food Dislikes Waking up early, being someplace at a certain time Fears Being too old to adventure anymore Loyalties Voln, friends Best Friend They're all gone, there are a few left in the lands but they're too high up there to hang out with anymore, or, their spirits have changed hands and they do not recognize Nikai anymore. Spouse None...tried, but meh. Loved One None Children None

Sometimes Nikai thinks about his lost friends, and those who came into the lands then passed away

into the night quietly, with no fanfare or announcement. There is a piece of writing he has read that

mirrors his thoughts on that.

"There are heroes whose tales will never be told.  Angels whose legacy is naught but ash.  Know this, the blood of those heroes remains priceless, though it was spent in silence."