A Taldan male, in his mid-20s, attractive but intense at first glance. He walks with a noble's gait, and seems to have the wealth to back such a claim. His hair is dark and flowing, shoulder-length, and tied in a loose ponytail. His skin is the particularly Taldan style of bronzed, and his eyes bear a rare and bright amber hue, exacerbated by the expensive pair of amber-lens glasses he wears at the end of his nose. He wears a noble's garb, a modern style of Taldor, dark green in color, but over it, he wears the trappings of an adventurer, including spoils from successful hunts and adventures. A gray and white cloak made from a Giant Owl drapes over his shoulders to the ground, furling behind the neck, and creating a feathery mane, lending further validity to the stereotype that all Taldans value themselves to be lions. Over his chest, he wears an artfully crafter Mithral Breastplate, with special care taken to make the pauldrons and gorget incredibly flexible. It bears a stylized and large white lion across the chest, and in the corner bears the mark of Gnomish craft, meaning it must house further secrets of craftsmanship. His dueling gloves are made from the hide of a Basilisk, cut off at the wrist and laced, to recreate the look of the Basilisk's own hands. His belt is fashioned from the hide of a Rock Troll, and attached to it is a small satchel pack as well as a seemingly master-crafted tankard covered in Cayden Cailean's 'Placard of Wisdom'. He wears rider's greaves, that extend just past the knee, clearly comprised of the shell of a Flail Snail, polished and colorful.
He wears a large and well-crafted backpack under the cloak just above the waist, filled with cooking supplies, alchemical gear, multiple bound texts, and adventuring gear. 
Perhaps the most telling aspect of the noble's adventurous history, are the multiple weapons hanging from the same trollskin belt. Four swords in four sheathes, two on each side, each different from the others and seemingly worth a small fortune. The first was fashioned from an Aboleth's tentacle after it had succumbed to what they call 'The Long Dreaming', and its body became petrified post-defeat. The basket and hilt are comprised of steel, and at the base of the pommel, the small red eye lens of an Aboleth is fastened. The second is comprised of the slightly barbed quill of a Bandersnatch, traced with veins of Cold Iron, its basket and hilt also created from Cold Iron. The third is a perfect, reflective, Adamantine foil with no slashing edge, its basket festooned with sharp shards of green-quartz Lamp Salt. The last, and most expensive, is another Foil of Gnomish craft, with rivulets spiraling down from point to hilt. Twisting the grip revs a small engine in the basket, causing the blade to revolve rapidly, and increasing the punch necessary for puncturing armor and rending tissue.
He holds his head high, and walks with purpose, obviously studying the surroundings, and contemplating his next move as if it were his last. Or perhaps he's considering whether or not to add 3 or 4 cloves to his most recent brew recipe. 

I was conveyed to a highborne Knight descended from the acclaimed Taldan Third Army of Exploration in Cassomir, but sired of an abstracted mother from my two significantly senior brothers. My aforementioned brothers were famed as Knight and Viceroy, and I was fostered as a pedigree, but directed towards more intellectual ventures than they, tutored by our house chamberlain, a scientifically minded Vishkanya hailing from Thuvia. However, I did acquiesce to join the military cadets as the majority of adolescent aristocrats often do, and found myself incredibly successful with regards to the aptitude of swordplay and tactical engagement. Our platoon explored numerous wrecks and ruins of Taldor past and natural wonders of the Taldan land, further engendering my gratification in things phrenic and scholarly.
Father perished of illness in his elder years. Each of we heirs continued our individual provincial pursuits, brothers maintaining countenance with the Grand Prince and managing the estate, or steering cataphracts into the Fogpeaks of Taldor to maintain security and jurisdiction utilizing the soldiers of our stock, and I, continuing to deliberate on the topics of the world, and ameliorating through the echelons of the legion as I aged. I was consigned with a sensitive mission with a minor contingent of Taldan squires and cadets under my newly achieved command. We were to locate and recover the Marquis who had been kidnapped in the preceding month by a terrorist organization acting against the Grand Prince because of the abuse of noble kin descended from the participants of the disastrous and failed Sixth Army of Exploration. I determined while on this mission that my ability to command and my deductive powers were further sharpened than I had been aware. I unearthed their trail after dispatching and interrogating a guerilla band, and traversed into the slums of Oppara with a meager aggregate of infantry. We tracked the brigands through a network of subterfuge and anarchic tumult before ambushing their commander whereupon I bore witness to a captivating account of the terrorist activity of recent, most notably involving my fraternal family.
My eldest brother, Viceroy to the Grand Prince, had conspired with this insurgent organization for months, slowly poisoning our father until his expiration, perceived as viral infirmity. The insurgent commander was the first unarmed man I had ever killed. My small brigade returned to Cassomir with the recently emancipated Marquis at my order, while I left to conduct a personal observation. I absconded to the site of my father's internment into the earth, and utilizing the erudite acquaintance with poison that my brothers had never obtained, I quickly proved the terrorist's tale correct. The only remaining recourse was to alert my knightly brother in the Fogpeaks of the domestic betrayal in the hopes that he had not been entangled in the nefarious scheme, but as is the way of Taldor, hoping against political corruption never ceases to frustrate the optimistic. I was brutishly and immediately detained in a dungeon intended to imprison our gravest adversaries.
I received notice through iron bars for days that my traitorous siblings had commenced with the division of the estate of our ancestors into sectors of gold value to be distributed primarily between the two of them, and also to high ranking members of the organization party to the plot. My brothers would never have anticipated that in bending me toward intellect in an attempt to subjugate a potential militant threat prior to its arrival that they had provoked a significantly greater hazard. With a silvered tongue and a chemical compound, I emerged from the bowels of our dungeon with my accompaniments, blood on my hands, and a rancorous animus, an unwavering requisite to castigate my treasonous blood brothers. I rampaged a bloody swath through the ranks of defected guardsmen who only weeks ago defended my repose, and appropriating the very same poison used to slowly murder the noble patron of our heritage, I watched the vitality evaporate from my brothers' eyes at the tip of my blade. The same eve, I procured a steed from our stables, and rode west to Andoran, incapable of conceiving of any method to rebuild our noble lineage.
Andoran provided me with umbrage for a time, but spiteful Taldans know no respite, and I was required to escape northward through the Five Kings Mountains, into Druma. Macridi, in Druma has accommodated me with a measure of security, and the capability to maintain my scientific ruminations and empirical warfare. Druma's treatise with Molthune to explore the lands of Casmaron provides me with an excellent opportunity to venture into territory once claimed by ancient Taldor, and matriculate further comprehension of the world and its wonders. Most optimistically with specific interest in the bastards inhabiting it. And perhaps with that comprehension, I may construct a new house, worthy of my patrilineal heritage.

Exacting, intelligent, honorable, arrogant, confident, devoted, amicable, obsessive, and yet, totally different while inebriated

None to speak of.