| Appearance: |
Harmor is a short, squat, angry woman who gives off vibes of a stalwart badger. She has survived years of war with a horrifying enemy-- baletouched zombies of her own people-- and lived to tell the tale, and she very much looks it. She still proudly wears the black and reds of the Zwarden house-- something like party colours, but she does not have enough cache to wear all of the metal trinkets that she craves.
Harmor's skin is pale and freckle-covered, and her ears are curiously a little more rounded than most Aigard, but she still has powerful, digitigrade legs below her hefty thighs. She is skilled with the staff and spear, visible in her calloused hands. She has a rough voice that can be heard from a mile away when she puts her considerable lungs to the effort. |
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| Personality: |
Harmor was once a member of the rabble of Garandezwarden, when her world was at peace. Like most of the Zwarden house, it didn't sit well with her. She was of the opinion that if Kaarden Desius was not provisioning and moving troops to expand its holdings, the city-state was growing soft and stagnant. That all changed when Racuun Balechild swooped in and hit the city with waves of baletouched beasts in a series of ongoing attacks that turned the very soldiers meant to expand into the state's own enemies.
Harmor, part of the military reserve, was thrown into active duty, and she has been living life to the fullest ever since. She has very little opinion of the dragon riders that have settled in around the same time that the cursed green-fire monsters began trying to wipe the city out, except that they are fools to throw their huge bodies into the grist mill for Racun to turn to her own uses. Instead, likes to work with a specialized unit who tracks Baletouched foot troops and traps them, severs all their parts, then buries them in shale to douse their fires and prevent them from being raised again. It's dirty work, but she's proud to be doing something useful for her people. |
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