Gothwyll

Gothwyll, who prefers the name Grim, was born into nobility on Torrid 13, 353. He is currently a young cleric working on his path to serve Mortis.

Appearance and Character

This elven male has a slender and sinewy build with defined muscles, indicating

a life spent in the wilderness. His elven heritage is evident from his pointed

ears and silver-blonde hair braided into long strands trailing behind him. He

moves gracefully in his shadow silk garments and seems attuned to whispers. His

storm-grey eyes reflect the colors of the world's cerulean blues and violet

depths. His smooth ivory skin, adorned with tattoos of a skull, mushroom,

raven, and hourglass, symbolizes different aspects of existence and the dance

of life. Braided bracelets on his left wrist pay tribute to souls journeying

into the beyond.

Axis

Grim follows the chaos harmonic primarily, and considers himself to be a good person.

Extras

A more detailed description of Grim:

In the dim glow of moonlight, this enigmatic figure emerges—a weaver of shadows, his presence both ethereal and palpable. His blond hair, not quite shoulder-length, cascades in a mixture of curls and braids, each strand a whispered secret. Under the sterile hum of fluorescent lighting, those same locks take on an otherworldly hue, almost white, as if touched by the breath of forgotten spirits.

His grey eyes, like storm clouds on the cusp of release, hold the reflections of the world—a canvas upon which the blues of distant oceans and the violets of twilight dance. They are windows to realms unseen, portals through which he glimpses the mysteries that cling to existence.

A short, narrow nose—a blade of moonstone—rests above a mouth that defies simplicity. Its shape, well-defined yet slightly larger than convention, mirrors the duality within him. When he chooses, it can curve into a cruel sneer, a challenge to fate, or stretch into a generous smile, a promise of secrets shared. Always, though, it remains sensual, a vessel for unspoken desires.

His face is a living tapestry, animated by emotions that ripple across his features. Joy, sorrow, rage—they all find refuge there, painting his skin with transient hues. And then there are his fingernails, delicate yet unyielding, like shards of glass—a paradox of fragility and strength.