Description:
Eye Color: Brown with flecks of violet.
Hair Color: Brownish Red, long pony tail.
Height: Five foot six inches.
Weight: One hundred and seventy eight pounds.
Age: Seventy eight years old, (young by half elven standards)
Distinguishing Facial Features: Long white scar on the left side of his jaw. As well as a seemingly permanant beard of stubble.
Body type: Athletic runners build.
Weapon/Fighting style: Prefers a flanged light mace and dirk, two handed dexterity based.
Clothing style: Studded leather cuirass, without sleeves, leather elbow length bracers, and the common style of an Archadian nobleman.
Personality:
Rias is a man of little moral qualm, so long as the money is good. He is a man of wine, women, levity, and dangerous subterfuge. Rias is the first to admit that he is a moral-less merc who will do just about anything for the right payment. He is a merc to the core, but will defy his own standards to protect women from abuse, which is strange from a man who seems nothing but a womanizing lecher.
In truth not much is known about him, a fact that he loves. So you never know what to expect from the devillish rogue of Farifax.










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"Should we um... Well you know, run?" he managed to stutter out. "No not at all my good man, the explosion will only be a small one... Theoretically." Shandolar replied with a jubilent smile.
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The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle. (Anais Nin)
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"Should we um... Well you know, run?" he managed to stutter out. "No not at all my good man, the explosion will only be a small one... Theoretically." Shandolar replied with a jubilent smile.
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"Should we um... Well you know, run?" he managed to stutter out. "No not at all my good man, the explosion will only be a small one... Theoretically." Shandolar replied with a jubilent smile.
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Fruitle
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"Should we um... Well you know, run?" he managed to stutter out. "No not at all my good man, the explosion will only be a small one... Theoretically." Shandolar replied with a jubilent smile.
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Fruitle
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Fruitle
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