[b]Nodrick Wencel Thyrmeon the Third. Heir to the county of Oakenbridge.[/b]
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[img]https://i.imgur.com/LHQ7S9V.jpg[/img]
Nodrick fashions himself a five foot nine, twelve stone hunk of suave nobility. With a short wavy 'prince charming' haircut and a pencil moustache sharp enough to cut yourself with, he is the epitome of high born swagger and charm. Clothing himself only in apparel of the finest cloth and fashionable cut, Nodrick leaves a lasting impression everywhere he goes. Regardless of whether he attends a ball, or bests a gang of ne'er-do-wells to save a defenceless damsel. The sole reason he wears leather armour instead of the more sensible plate, is the ability to tailor it to his desirable physique and adorn the material with subtle references to his house's crest, imitating the finest damask but for the martial appearance of the material. Who needs weapons, when every opponent will simply swoon or find themselves swearing fealty without a second thought?

The house of Oakenbridge crest:
[img]https://i.imgur.com/Vup3zIa.png[/img]
A fructed, eradicated oak tree on an argent field, supported by a gules bridge of three arches (at nombril point).
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[img]https://i.imgur.com/zPHzPhH.png[/img]
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"Me?! You dare deny knowing who I am? If we were in Oakenbridge, I would have you thrown in gaol for such a remark, you insolent peasant. Go and fetch your master, stableboy. Tell him Sir Nodrick Wencel Thyrmeon the Third of Oakenbridge wishes to procure a steed. Now!"

Nodrick Wencel Thyrmeon the Third, heir to the barony of Oakenbridge. 'Noddy' to his closest friends. 'Sir' to anyone else.
Raised by his father to be the next baron of Oakenbridge, Nodrick took the usual classes to groom him for a life of leadership and valour in his young life. As an adolescent, however, Nodrick discovered the joys of fine clothes, fine wine and fine company. Along with his friends, all high born as well, Nodrick romped around the counties and duchies for three full years. All their drinking, wenching, partying and causing mischief earned them the name of 'the company of gilded miscreants', one they gladly reappropriated. Nodrick's lavish life came to a full stop, however, when he unwittingly bedded the daughter of the duke of Folsterwood. Upon being discovered and thrown into the dungeon the next morning, Nodrick vowed to change his life. Soonish.
Nodrick's father wasn't blessed with the same optimism as he, however. Using what little influence he had, he managed to free Nodrick for a sizeable amount of money, and the promise that he would do everything in his power to whip his son into shape.

Nodrick's father contacted an old friend, Lord Esperglow, for guidance. Through him, Nodrick's father learned of the Esperglow's initiative and volunteered his son. In addition, he made it abundantly clear to his son that this would be his last chance. In addition to 'finally grow up, you loitering fop', Nodrick was also tasked with repaying his father his bail. Also, since he dishonoured the duke's daughter, he would have to marry her. And since that would mean she would be marrying below her station, Nodrick had better perform some grandiose feat to make up for that. Or be disinherited. His choice.
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