Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25038310-20160529172721/@comment-5543592-20160529180530

(I am was more asking Alador, but alright xD) Name:  Delevan T. Mannett of Bergama, "The Lancer" Gender:  Male Race:  Breton Weapons:  A finely crafted lance made of wood from a Wellspring so that it shimmers like chromium, and a well-cared-for steel, single-edged, hunting knife. A small, thin, hand-carved pipe that doesn't look like a weapon but the cold blue of the man's eyes implies he could easily enough use it as one. As for other equipment, he also has two waterskins and a compass. Armor:  The same quality as and similar in appearance to Blades' armor (actual armor is in appearance picture). Protects his shins, torso, arms, and hands. Can repel arrows and crossbow bolts from a distance, and resists bladed weapons well enough, but is weak to heavier weapons as it's design is more for allowing weapons to glide off it rather than fully repelling an attack. Appearance:  Tall for a Breton, but not tall compared to any other races: about 5 foot 10 inches. His tanned complexion hints at Redguard blood as well. Looks to be around 40 years old. Was handsome as a boy, but age, the harshness of life, and a certain weariness have caught up to him, leaving him with distinguished but weathered features. Lore Skill (see below):  Areas, as a world traveler, and an educated man, Delevan has been many places and knows many things. Bio:  A man who is quite obviously a knight of some sort, but his regalia is unfamilar and his land of origin is unheard of. He has died many more times than he would like and he has been around far longer than he cares to be.



Delevan watched silently, from behind stoic eyes, as Jericho had taken down Aelwin. He'd turned around at some point to watch it happen, if only to not keep his back to the cannibal.

"What are you waiting for?" He asked Dunistair.