Name: Nicolae Alexandru Sorin
Birthplace: The City of Britain
Alias: Stefan Gwenaël
Appearance:Age: Mid 30's
Hair: Corn-silk blond bound in a ponytail to his mid back.
Eyes: Pale gray like a storm on the horizon.
Skin Tone: Exceedingly Fair Skinned
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 142 pounds
Markings:Scars: Left Cheek, a slightly indented and heavily pitted scar as from a burn that did not heal right.
Background:Born on Britain's Upper East-End to Parents Stefan and Gwenaëlle, he started his life as a young lad in the Middle Class. His father a merchant and his mother a homemaker like any good woman aught be. He was loved dearly and had all the things a young lad might want. He lacked not for friends as he was accepted among the sons of nobles and not social distanced enough to exclude friendship with the lower-class. His childhood was spent fishing, and chasing hoops, and spending his sovereigns at the local bawdy house. He was given the benefit of education and through his time with wealthier friends learned much; granting he did not outperform their tutors. He was gifted taking on higher mathematics and literature including Runic, Avatarian, and Tribal Common. It would not be long before his pursuits and higher thinking distanced himself from many of his friends, and then even shorter before he would come of age and find that his noble friends had now distanced themselves from such a free thinker and middle classed individual.
This never managed to cause him a problem, it was another part of life and opened his mind to the pursuits of archeology, cartography, and the sciences. Dalliances that offered him much alone time, often far away. From this he gained a well traveled nature, making a a fair living off the occasional artifact or oddity dug up from a ruins or other hole in the ground. His travels caused him to barley notice his parents passing sometime between his 18th and 22nd year. One to illness, the other to grief, though he never made the connection to his own illness acquired whilst traipsing through jungles and forests.
Yes illness, a cough that never seemed to go away and often produced red streaks in his sputum, his lungs practically ached and crackled with each breath and the only solution proved to be lots of red wine. Numbed to his own pains he carried on for years this way, focusing more on maps than digging. One of his greatest accomplishments being an historical map of the city of Britain, sectioning the city into its original castle and fortification, overlays that showed expansions, and maps that with his sketches detailed older long standing constructions that had been torn down for expansion rather than taken by time or by war.
*An Artist's Rendering*
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