[center][sub][b]Priyet | 50 | Jotun[/b]

[i]"Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young."[/i][/sub][/center]

[sub][color=slategray][H3]Appearance:[/h3][/color][/sub]
[indent][indent][color=lightgray]Standing at the joining of the alien grace of a ball of mercury and the sheer mass of fifty tons of liquid concert, Priyet is if anything else not a small man. In fact it seemed [i]everything[/i] was large about the man, from the way he dwarfed all he stood by both horizontally and vertically, even his own kin; to the way a singular long horn crested from the left side of his head, its former pair nothing more than a shattered stump. The sheer physicality, of it all is presented in every flex of the musculature which seem to bulge from their very confines with every tightening of a fist. This musculature itself contained beneath a patchwork of angry white-scars over what was once flesh, the color of ashen soot. The most notable of this scarring being where once was a pointed ear, now lay only a mangled mash of tissue as if something or someone had bitten it off.

The underlying strength though is not that of the stricken beast, it is a contained and measured thing. Objects are not crushed in his hands, but tended to with a fatherly care. Fitting for the work he partakes in, working his needles with a surgeon's touch. One might call it gentleness, but it would more accurate to call it care. A care which is reflected in a pair of eyes deep-set into the face - tiny motes of green lost against the ash. The eyes do not observe so much as they dissect and take apart. Yet whatever insight might be gained is casually deflected away with a crooked smile and a boisterous laugh.
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[sub][color=slategray][H3]History:[/h3][/color][/sub]
[indent][indent][color=lightgray]Priyet is a curious enigma that has served with the Vigil since its founding. Like most of the old guard, he values his privacy. Though through the occasional tidbit told under drink or to throw off someone during a hand in cards, something resembling a tapestry could be reconstructed. Though many of its ends are tattered and its hard to tell how much is truth and what is just a tall-tale.

They say though that Priyet was born into a Jotun clan of little renown in the Far South. Though Priyet himself remembers little of this time as he left when he was but a very small child. To pay their dues of fealty to  Dukes of Baroon in exchange for free range over the lands, the tribe would give away some of their newborns to be trained as soldiers to supplement Baroon's army. Priyet was one such baby and was sent away to the domed city. 

In Baroon he came under the tutelage of one of the Duke's knights. He split his time between working as a servant boy and being personally tutored by the knight in the ways of the world; he learned of the histories, the sciences, and more importantly the art of warfare. The knight was a strict teacher that expected quality results and would often beat Priyet when he failed to grasp concepts or ideas at a pace of his liking. Never the less, he was what Priyet would describe as a "fair" man, and Priyet would grow to respect him. 

When Priyet was ten the Ukanuq Wars broke out and the knight was called to battle, Priyet followed along as his squire. The knight would die during one of the opening battles of the conflict. Priyet with nowhere else to go continued following the soldiers. He found himself work in the medical tents, where an understaffed physician was working with his bare essentials. Priyet soon found himself running bandages, applying splints, and in time even assisting in surgery. By war's end the physician was impressed with his work enough to invite him back to Hektra, where he could vouch for Priyet's acceptance into the Priory's University so he could learn to become a "real" doctor. 

Priyet attended the University at Hektra for a year between his fifteenth and sixteenth birthdays. Never really stuck though and he soon packed up his bags and left. Found his way back to Gaerth where he picked up where he left off. Tending to soldiers same as before, not in a tent anymore though, he did it on the field. One soldier that he treated told him about this idea she and a bunch of others were working on. A sort of fraternity to allow people like them to find well-paying and good work and spend less time dying in hell holes like Gaerth, they would need good people to patch them up. Gaerth signed up and not just because he fancied the woman's smile.

Ever since then he's been with with the Vigil. Floating from chapter to chapter wherever he was needed. The say he wrestled one of the clank warlords and won, they say he dived into the Tear on a bet, and they say many more things. Sometimes its hard to tell what's truth and what's a tall-tale anymore. He was offered a position on the Leading Council on three separate occasions, he denied each time. In fact he seemed to find great pleasure in getting away from politics as much as possible, maybe cause that smiling woman is now the head of the Leading Council, and their relationship fell apart messily. Whatever the reason, he's working with the Mournhold bunch. 

It's been surprising quiet since the whole barbarian conflict. Never liked the quiet. 
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[sub][color=slategray][H3]Skills:[/h3][/color][/sub]
[indent][indent][color=lightgray]First and foremost Priyet is probably the best person to call when you are bleeding out on the ground. A trained physician more through experience than study he has a well versed understanding in poultices, stitching, splinting, cauterizing, and whatever else may come up in the Vigil's particular line of work. Those big hands of his work with a surprising amount of skill and grace in the craft to make sure that his people don't end up getting killed. Probably a Jotun thing really, takes it very personally when people go and die on him as it says bad things about [i]his[/i] honor more than anything else. 

Priyet himself though isn't one to shy away from a fight, something quiet obvious displayed by the amount of scar tissue he has accumulated over the years. He prefers things up close and personal where he can make sure the other guy is dead. This death is typically delivered in the form of swift blows from that blasted axe of his. Though his reflexes may have slowed with age, the strength he pulls behind each swing has only seemed to increase like a fine vintage as he cuts his foes in twine.

Not that he likes to flaunt it that much, Priyet is something of a "cultured" individual. He's read the classics and understands mathematics and scientific theory. Something that most professional soldiers don't have the ability to say. While his appearance would prevent any such meeting, he could with surprising levels of ease understand the topics of high society, if not put them off with his cavalier attitude. If asked Priyet doesn't hide the fact that he is known to enjoy the "finer things in life" because only an idiot would try and start something with him.
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[sub][color=slategray][H3]Equipment:[/h3][/color][/sub]
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[list]
[*][color=slategray][b]Scanner[/b][/color] - A strange device that Priyet can use to discern injuries, infections, and breakages, both external and internal.
[*][color=slategray][b]Folding Axe[/b][/color] - In its disengaged state this weapons appears like a flat sheet of paper. Yet a simple touch makes the metal like substance meld and reshape itself to whatever preprogrammed shape has been placed into the interface. In this case a large and rather intimidating two-handed battle axe.
[*][color=slategray][b]Satchel of Pills[/b][/color] - A simple leather satchel filled with a wide variety of mysterious pills.
[*][color=slategray][b]Vigil Armor[/b][/color] - Standard supply Vigil armor, a combination of metal and leather strung together that fits snugly over his hulking frame.
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[sub][color=slategray][H3]General Nonsense:[/h3][/color][/sub]
[indent][indent][color=lightgray] ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ [/color][/indent][/indent]