[hider=Theodore Graham, Free Paladin]
[SUB][U]ＮＡＭＥ[/U][/SUB]
Theodore Graham
[SUB][U]ＲＡＣＥ[/U][/SUB]
Hyur
[SUB][U]ＣＬＡＮ[/U][/SUB]
Midlander
[SUB][U]ＢＩＲＴＨＰＬＡＣＥ[/U][/SUB]
Ishgard
[SUB][U]ＯＣＣＵＰＡＴＩＯＮ[/U][/SUB]
Cook
[SUB][U]ＳＯＵＬ ＣＲＹＳＴＡＬ[/U][/SUB]
Paladin
[SUB][U]ＡＰＰＥＡＲＡＮＣＥ[/U][/SUB]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/T2Vyrai.jpg[/img]

Theodore stands at a fairly average Midlander's height of 5'10", with a middling build. In terms of muscular development he's not particularly impressive. His hair is an ashen blonde, and often winds up covering one of his hazel colored eyes. 
[SUB][U]ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ[/U][/SUB]
Ishgard is a cold place, filled with colder people. In spite of this, Theodore is a notably warm person. He is kind to those whom he hardly knows, courteous to in need of it, and more than willing to draw his blade in defense for what he believes is right. He is however, very naive and easy to fool. More than once, he's found himself aiding "innocents" that turned out to be brigands or other such criminals. Though the events at the Battle of Cartenau did dull his thirst for glory, he cannot help but boast proudly after accomplishing something, and is a fan of friendly competition.

Frankly speaking, he's an idiot. A proud, kind, naive fool that is willing to die for people that he scarcely knows. And he wouldn't want to live any other way.

[SUB][U]ＢＩＯＧＲＡＰＨＹ[/U][/SUB]
[hider=Warning: Long]
The realm of Coerthas is a harsh, unforgiving icy wasteland, one where only a sole settlement endures to this day. For countless years, dragons and men have waged war against one another. These bloody conflicts continue without any end in sight, and for the average citizen of Ishgard, the thought of avenging the lost is all that keeps them interested in potentially joining the war. That and the lucrative promise of lordship to dragon slayers.

Of course, lordship is merely a pipe dream. Only the most talented at warfare can effectively fell a dragon alone, and wealthiness doesn't allow one to desert the fields of war. Its a place where one is born to die in a never ending conflict against a foe who swears revenge, and in turn, mankind swears revenge as well.

But, none of that really matters. Not to Theodore. Born to a servant's family for house Haillenarte, the boy's future prospects seemed to be limited to the scrubbing of stone floors, and the polishing of the "brave" men and women of the House's arms and armor. It wasn't a bad life, nor an especially hard one given the house's relatively lackluster estate compared to the other three houses. The head of the house was a bit disciplinary, but that just reinforced the idea in Theodore's head that serving was...really all that he was good for. 

But, destiny conspires in peculiar ways. Namely, that Haillenarte was really, really damn bad at actually performing their knightly duties. As Skyfire Locks was constantly under siege, even the serving staff started being allowed to sign on to join the proud knights of Haillenarte. With the prospect of an upgrade from servanthood to lordship on the line, Theodore was excited. He'd often read stories of the brave knights of old in the libraries when he had free time, and the prospect of both letting his family live a life of comfort and becoming a hero was more than tantalizing to the young man of 14 years. It was downright seductive.

Of course, knighthood is anything but glamorous. Parking your fully armored arse in the icy outskirts of Coerthas, often fending off Goobbues and wolvevs more than anything remotely resembling a dragon was just a bit dismaying. Just a little. The Stone Vigil to the north was claimed by the dragonic brood, and Haillenarte didn't have the manpower, nor the support to reclaim it. If a knight was lucky, or perhaps foolish enough, they could ambush a Dravanian wyrm and attempt to fell it alone. Many tried, and so few succeeded, that it started being called the "Haillenarte Retirement Plan". Theodore, thankfully, learned well enough that this wasn't the glamorous crusade with promise of profit that he had assumed. This was a dead end...an infuriating, pointless dead end. 

This only tempered the youth's thirst for that glory, that desire to better his family's lives. Three years would pass, each draining his resolve more and more. So much so that when the battle of Cartenau erupted to the south, and the Dragonic army of Midgardsormr fell upon the Garlean airships, Theodore felt a stirring in his soul. Not one devoted to the pursuit of wealth and dragon slaying, but of the desire for glory, and to defend his home. After all, Ishgard was part of the Eorzea that the Empire coveted, so if the Battle of Cartenau were to end in the Garleans' victory, they would be but a stone's throw away from Ishgard. As mighty as Ishgard's walls and wards were, the Empire had every possible technological, militaristic, and resource based advantage poised to overtake the whole of Ishgard. Not even the Heavensward, in his mind, could fight off the world's largest empire.

And so, alone, he would desert his post. Likely, he could never return to Ishgard for fear of execution for the crime of desertion. If he could make a difference then and there, he would. If not...it wasn't like the Empire took prisoners. It was either die then and there, or die knowing his home would be taken. And so he would march, a strange, foreign "knight" armed with the most basic of armor, sword, and shield, a temporary addition amongst the Gridanian Woodwailers. Every hand was needed in the fighting, and as Dalamud's red light began to shine down upon the battlefield. 

The Garlean army, mighty as it was, proved a fearsome match for the conscripted armies, as well as the free companies of the adventurers. Theodore himself scarcely managed to square off against one Garlean footsoldier, before he found an arrow impale his shoulder. Now without the use of his sword arm, all he could do was throw his all against the next attacker. With Pilum striking back against steel, he was certain that he would meet his end at the end of a Garlean's blade. As his shield was splintered and his guard broken, he felt time slow as a blade moved against him, ilm by ilm growing closer. He closed his eyes and braced for the end, before the sound of steel clashing and time passing made him realize his life hadn't ended just yet. 

A figure clad in white, an Elezen man that towered over him, had caught the blow with his shield. He would bark something to Theodore that he couldn't quite recall, his memory a haze from the battle. All he could remember was putting his sword in his good arm, and continuing to fight, covered by the Elezen paladin. 

When Dalamud opened...that was when he felt the specter of death once more loom. Bahamut, the Primal of the Dragons, raged against the battlefield. Flare spells erupted, splitting apart the earth. There was no point in running anymore...no man could fight that thing. At once, he felt himself surrender, sword dropping to the dirt as he collapsed to his knees. Despair wracked his heart, before he felt a hand clasp his shoulder and shake him violently. Another set of words that he couldn't remember. Another rouse to his spirit that bade him to run. And run he would, as the blue lights erupted over the remnants of the battlefield. Flares pursued all upon the fields, and even the paladin's shield proved insufficient to block the primal's powerful attack.

When he awoke, he was half buried in the dirt, the courageous Elezen laying beside him, motionless. His body ached, his eyes burnt, and his limbs felt heavy as iron, but he bade himself to crawl. A hand felt at the man's neck, only to find nothing. No pulse of life, and no warmth. Only the cold embrace of the end had greeted this heroic man, who'd have most certainly survived had he not gone back for Theodore. Something shined within the dirt that caught his eye. Slowly he would reach out, and take grasp of a brilliant blue gemstone with a shield emblazoned on it. 

As he ran his gloved fingers over it, he felt runes inscribed in it, in a language he did not know. But as he held it, he felt...at peace, somehow. He knew this had belonged to the paladin beside him, but...the stone made him feel as if it needed him to carry it. He would grasp it tightly in his hand before losing consciousness. 

It was a mere stroke of luck that he survived. In the aftermath of Bahamut's defeat and the Garleans' retreat, he was lucky enough to be tended to by the Conjurers of the Twelveswood. Sadly, healing magic could only do so much on its own, and as such he was cooped up for six months while the wound to his shoulder healed. 

After a lengthy recovery period in Gridania, Theodore would turn his back to Ishgard once more, taking up the mantle of being an Adventurer...and a free Paladin, one who would honor the tales inscribed upon the soul stone, and to carry on the unknown will of the man he never knew. Now a member of the Adventurers, he would perform various odd jobs for several years, until the day that a flier stuck to a tavern wall caught his eye.
[/hider]
[SUB][U]ＯＴＨＥＲ[/U][/SUB]
Favorite Foods: Sohm Al Tart, Shepherd's Pie, and Salmon Muffins

His Ishgardian heritage has given him an inclination to distrust Au Ra, though that's solely due to his lack of interaction with them. 

Color = [color=E6FCFF][b]E6FCFF[/b][/color]
[SUB][U]ＲＥＡＳＯＮ ＦＯＲ ＥＮＬＩＳＴＭＥＮＴ[/U][/SUB]
[hider=The Knight of the North]

[b][i]"BEGIN"[/i][/b]

As one man's shout rang out, two fighters within the "arena" of the Lancer's guild begain sizing one another up. One, a Hyuran Midlander with hair white as snow, and eyes focused upon his opponent. His opposite, an Elezen Wildwood Woodwailer, bearing the traditional mask of his ocupation. With hair as black as coals and hands tightening on his lance, the Elezen would thrust forward wildly, using rapid thrusts to attempt to back the hyur into a corner. 

The momentum he carried was wild at best. After all, the elezen was only ranked as a First Spear, barely better than a fresh recruit. His thrusts kept missing the mark, often easy enough for the Hyur to track with the steel pilum clutched in his arm. With one large step, the Elezen attempted to bypass the shield and disarm his opponent...

[b][i]*CLANG*[/i][/b]

The impact of spearhead against shield resounded throughout the Lancer's Guild, as iron ground hard against flat steel and attempted to slide past the defense of the Knight of the North. He had taken a step back, nearly to the wall even. In one swift motion, Theodore would step forward while lowering his posture, pushing the pilum of upon his arm upwards and away, effectively leaving the Woodwailer recruit completely open. Now ilms from his throat was Theodore's blade, which slowly sunk back to his hip.

Relaxing his stance, the Ishgardian would smile. [color=E6FCFF][b]"That's the biggest thing you need to watch out for with a lance. Its a really good weapon for keeping your distance, but once that distance is breached then you have no choice but to retreat. And the best way to make sure you're unlikely to be caught off guard like that..."[/b][/color] he would explain, guiding the recruit's feet and shoulders, so that his left shoulder was facing Theodore. 

[color=007236][color=E6FCFF][b]"Lead with your less dominant hand to guide the spear, when you're on the offensive, then put your dominant hand at the front instead if you're on the defensive. Easier to parry with more control, but easier to thrust with more force in the back. Oh, and make sure you carry something light as a side arm..."[/b][/color][/color]

[b]"I think that's enough, Graham. Thanks for the lesson."[/b] The Woodwailer's superior, a midlander woman would say, smiling a bit beneath her mask. [b]"Hard to believe you don't even use a spear with all the advice you spout. You ever thought about joining up? The Twin Adders could use a man that can whip recruits up a bit,[/b] she would add, giving her fresh recruit a clap on the back that nearly knocked the young Elezen off his feet. 

Giving the thought a quick mulling over, Theodore simply shrugged before sheathing his sword at his hip once more. [color=E6FCFF][b]"Its a good offer, but...I'm still not done searching yet. Besides, its a big world. And someone's always in need of a good sword arm or two,"[/b][/color] he would say, a smile tugging at his cheeks. [color=E6FCFF][b]"Thanks for everything though. Popping in here now and again has helped me improve a lot. Sorry for messing up some of your plans though, Ywain."[/b][/color] the paladin would say, bowing to the guild master of the Lancer's Guild. 

The Hyuran lancer would give a slight shrug. All were welcome to learn the art of the lance so long as they had the conviction, but he seldom got a request from someone asking for sparring. Ywain had trounced Theodore thoroughly in more than a few sparring sessions, but the score over the past year had netted Theodore a few victories. [b]"In a way, it helps my students to fight people with other weapons. After all, one can hardly call a lancer who's never fought a sword user 'experienced'. Good luck to you."[/b]

With all that needed to be said spoken, Theodore would stride out of the guild, still a might bit sore that he never did manage to even the score with Ywain. It was a bit of gil to rent a chocobo all the way to Thanalan, but performing odd jobs in the Black Shroud, especially near the honey yard, had netted him sufficient funds for that and lodgings for a few days when he arrived. He had heard of a free company's formation...or perhaps "reformation" was a more apt description. The [i]"Blessed Twelve"[/i] had posters up all within the Gridanian Adventurer's Guild, so it was no surprise that it caught the young paladin's eye. 

Whether he would join or not would depend on the characters seeking enlistment. After all, he couldn't judge a free company until he knew what "company" they kept. With that in mind, he would pay the porter with a small sack of gil, and hop upon his assigned Chocobo. He was no stranger to riding them, there were enough times in Coerthas that he would ride upon the birds...and ever since, he couldn't help but love the feeling of riding upon one. the somewhat soft yellow and black plumes, the adorable way their eyes glittered when something sparked their curiosity...perhaps one day, he'd open a chocobo ranch. Even their smell entranced him, the bird he was riding getting a quick sniff on its neck from the Knight before he hopped on.

With a thirst for glory and companionship in his heart, he would ride to the South. To the city of gold, Ul'Dah, where there were no doubt many in need of one willing to fight for what was right, not just for what was profitable. 

[/hider]
[/hider]