[hider=Derrix “Nightbane” Herchiv]

[center][b] Derrix “Nightbane” Herchiv[/b][/center]
[center]Early thirties[/center]

	Derrix is an extremely tall ‘human’ man, standing at six foot eight and bearing broad shoulders that shelf the body of a well trained soldier. His visage holds two golden eyes that pierce his gaze below a head of short black hair. His cheeks are lean and show a strong jaw, but also more interestingly the hold each a bull’s horn tattoo pointing up. His entire body from the top of his head to the soles of his feet are spiderwebbed with red and pale scars that spiral, twist, and carved their way all around him, with no exception, and including his face. 

	The clothes of a city man covers his torso and legs, wearing simple soft cotton tunics of blues and whites and dark rough trousers over leather boots. Not a weapon adorns his black belt. In the stables he keeps his white horse of enormous size, on scale with his own giant’s stature.

	Derrix spends his time hidden away, writing countless pages of ink or charcoal. He usually is carrying a spare piece of paper and writing utensil: Those who commonly see the quiet man assume he is a poet, and a poet he will tell them should they ask. 



[hider=Secrets] A locked chest of foreign make and words conceal a sword and strange winged armor, along with a cape. In the pitch black of night, you will notice a soft white aura glow from his body, as if turning the darkness itself. Should he brandish a weapon, it will flash and glow a bright white, and should he charge, he shall do the same.[/hider]

	
















[/hider]