The Warforged Swordmage
Warforged swordmage. Reasonably heavy build. 6’8” in height. Armor of unknown metal, dull grey, covered with ornate etched baroque scrollwork. Right arm disproportionately larger than left. Carries a longsword decorated similarly to armor. Slot in left shoulder carries a Sunrod.
“You don’t know shit about Steeple, and you’re never going to. Three years ago we put into the City of Glass and he shows up out of goddamn nowhere, right on deck. Tells me I took him on as first mate the night previous, and I, I in no state to remember, says aye. Best decision I ever made up ‘til he decides to… Look, he don’t ask much pay, he don’t sleep, and he keeps the men in line. Course that’s no surprise: the bastard’s downright terrifying. Just so goddamn quiet. Word of advice: don’t you ever look him in the eye, or what he’s got passes for one. Gives me the feeling he’d kill me as soon as work for me, ‘cept for some reason I’m useful. If I’d had to guess, I’d say he’s looking for something, someone maybe. Why else join up askin’ so little pay? Yeah, way I figure it, it’s a revenge thing. Cause let me tell you, you won’t ever see that bastard earthside ‘less he’s he’s got a damn good reason to be there. Like, killing a guy. Or a job. Or a job killing a guy. Even then, he’s always standing on roofs like some moody… He likes roofs. S’pose that’s why he’s called Steeple… Look, he’s your problem now. And good fucking riddance. Those repairs’ll cost me a fortune…”