#calendieth

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tfw ur son shows up to the soiree without ur permission

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these are all from May/June i think

bonus : 

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sketchy dump

[thefeglord]

Quel’thalas was often a realm without alteration, the climate of the region consistently fixed to a pleasant autumnal chill or the far more vibrant conditions of a breezy summer. As such, rainfall was a rather rare occurrence and was usually secluded to the deep wilderness of Eversong. Only a mere mist of rainfall showered the woodland province in moisture on one particular evening, dousing leaves of russet, auburn and gold with a peppering of translucent droplets. It dampened the air and shrouded the atmosphere in a blanket of pale haze, moistening anything contained within the region. Artificially maintained wilderness gave way to pockets of civilization, neatly composed clusters of architecture set into the larger spaces between the trees. Most were of moderate size and were illuminated ardently from within, pleasant little interludes of luminance and sophisticated construction.

Yet there was one particular estate that stood apart from its contemporaries, a sprawling conglomerate of turrets and spires. It was an incredibly foreboding affair, possessing only a few of the refined details that adorned its counterparts, darker in color and more intimidating in the looming height of its towers. There was a single central building that rose fat and powerful at the center with three skyward-reaching spires surrounding it, two on either side and one rising from the rear. Only a few smaller buildings were scattered in the estate’s sprawling shadow, consisting of a military barracks and a set of stables, accompanied by an armory filled to the brim with elven weaponry. Most noble estates would boast a vast set of gardens, some cottages or perhaps a richly decorated ornamental fountain among the grounds but such frivolous luxuries were evidently held in contempt by this particular territory.

Even the lights within the home lay dark and vacant, only a pair of rooms lit from the inside and a single glowing lamp ensuring that the entrance was visible to any visitors from the exterior. As such, both the lobby and entrance hallway were illuminated, along with one of the sitting rooms on the lowest floor. The marble of the hall’s floor gave way to an elaborate parquet of hand-crafted wood, smoothed and refined to perfection, laden with a few imported rugs. Large bookshelves lined the windowless sections of the walls, an enormous parlour room filled to the brim with polished mahogany furniture and Uldum rugs. Dense crimson drapery was strung across the large panes of a floor-to-ceiling window, stretching high toward the vaulted ceiling of the parlour. These curtains were pushed to either side, allowing the misty landscape beyond the glass to remain visible. All color within the room seemed to consist of traditional Sin’dorei pallettes - though indeed, darkened and muted - creating a formidable atmosphere despite the wealth and opulence displayed.

Two men occupied the space although a vast distance separated them entirely from one another. Both carried similar facial features, chiseled jawlines, sharp jade eyes and crooked noses all bearing inherent resemblance. Even the pale stubble running rampant along the lower halves of each face and the brutal scars that strike at differing positions in their respective features were a point of similarity. One man was sprawled across a large sofa, scarlet cushions at his back and both of his burly arms draped along the back of the seat - an indolent pose. Lyanthar had adopted this lazily relaxed position yet his stiff shoulders and twitching foot were indication to the contrary. Brilliant blonde hair, a shade darker than his father’s clipped tresses, was splayed elegantly across his armored shoulders in tousled waves. A rather elaborate set of travelling armor adorned his densely-muscled frame, nowhere near the gorgeous detail of his tournament set but still quite impressive regardless. One leg was folded lazily over the other but the slight twitching of his foot was causing the plates to clink faintly. It should have been loud enough to catch his attention but all of his focus seemed directed toward his father across the room, gazing warily at the other man and flicking occasional glances toward the door to the entrance hall - clearly anticipating another arrival.

Amidst all of this, Calendieth was nearly motionless beside the fire. One hand was outstretched toward the elaborate mantle of the fireplace, leaning against it whilst his other hand circled a crystalline glass of amber fluid. It was raised to his lips every so often - acting as the only true shift to his frame aside from the soft rising and falling of his chest and the languid blinks that briefly interrupted his vacant stare, scowling distantly into the flames. His garb was that of a finely-tailored noble, a formal russet vest and collared undershirt with dark trousers fitted to his lower body. Although, while this attire was indeed of respectable quality and style, it seemed in a minor state of disarray - as though he had slept in it for at least a single evening, perhaps two.

Oppressive silence filled the room, the only sounds emerging from the faint clinking of icecubes in a glass or metallic armored plates shuddering with the movements of a fidgeting host. Calendieth remained a patient statue yet Lyanthar was irrevocably restless, having received no true explanation for his summons yet finding himself incapable of demanding an answer.

[thefeglord]

Calendieth Sin’drael (Bloodfury)

Description:

As with most members of the Sin'drael line (loosely translated to Bloodfury), Calen sports a fair complexion and similarly ashen hair. The strands sprouting from his head and forming this cropped mane are so light that they border on becoming white, groomed neatly into a pleasant arrangement of silken tresses.

Peculiarly long eyelashes and haphazardly rugged elven brows echo the hue of his hair, framing his pale lime optics in equal measure. More of this honey-white color lies in the tufts extending from his hairline to his jaw upon either side of his face. Faint bristle has been permitted to run rampant along the chiselled line of his jaw until it coalesces into a pointed goatee at the man's pronounced chin.

Stoutly defined cheekbones cause him to appear almost gaunt yet the definition is somewhat endearing, lining up with the sculpted angle of his jaw to amplify the prestigious visage he carries. Almost every aspect of his angular features seem to have been crafted in the name of being innately masculine and thus rather pleasing in that regard.

However, a single blemish tarnishes his lovely visage, a faint red line running diagonally through his left brow and over the bridge of his nose - slicing directly into his eye and causing some peculiar discoloration within the iris itself. Scarlet streaks stream along the line of the wound and the darker lime at the fringes of his gaze begins to pale around the edges of the incision, indicating that the flesh has healed over but failed to maintain the same pigments. This blemish is often concealed in some manner, especially when Calen expects to be in the company of others.

There are a number of other scars littering his muscular frame but none are as prominent as the one striking at his gaze or the large cauterized incision at the left side of his abdomen. This particular strike had evidently run him right through, an exit wound visible at the other side.

Though Calen carries a considerable amount of muscle, it is rather compactly arranged so that he naturally appears more lithe than a man of the same muscular mass. His abundantly defined figure is often adorned in ornately crafted armor - a combination of plates and leathers that provide protection, functionality and comfort whilst simultaneously remaining highly embellished with elaborate patterns and designs.

Calen is rarely lacking the presence of his constant companion, a large male lion bearing a handsome mane composed of both soft browns and striking golds. A pair of crystalline blue eyes peer out from the feline's features, assessing anyone nearby with predatory precision.

History/Rumours:

Calen is known to be more of a diplomat than a soldier, contrary to his birth into one of the more militaristically-orientated households.

Possessing both skill in swordplay and archery, Calen has served in a number of forces and still obliges to the call of duty when it is sent out to him despite having recently taken his place at the head of the Bloodfury Estate.

For many years, this man has been shown to differ from his elder brother - the former patriarch of their Household. Where Aurelion Bloodfury (or Sin'drael as it is known in Thalassian) was a man of stern visage and stubborn judgement, Calen has always been more diplomatic than formiddable - contrastingly different to most of the men in his line.

Images: [1], [2]