A Grain on the Scale
Sir Elric Yori
A knight and alcoholic.
- Age 24
- Fair, pale skin, somewhat red from baking in the sun daily.
- Icy blue eyes.
- Curly ,dark blonde hair kept at shoulder length, usually bound by a white ribbon.
- Short full beard.
- Wide shoulders.
- Barrel chested.
- When not in armor, he wears a well tailored horseman’s tunic (parti colored green and brown), Suede leather riding pants tucked into long riding boots with the tops turned down. He has a large fur lined cloak and leather gloves.
Brave, chivalrous, strong, gallant in every sense of the word. That is what “Sir” Elric Yori strives most to be in life, a knight. A young man from a village in the northern reaches that barely merits a name, he has made everything he has in this world for himself. His ability with the sword, shield, and horse, his modest wealth, his allies and enemies, his less then legal knightly title, even his own name. Born a peasant to a family with too many mouths to feed, Little Ric grew up knowing how hard life can be for the lowborn. He learned to fight, and to to protect those worse off then himself, and grew to abhor bullies. He joined the militia of a low local lord at a young age to ease the burden on his family. Learning how to drill, fight, and drill some more, he became the best of the young recruits. Eventually, his hard training rewarded him with the tabbard of a man-at-arms, and for a while he was happy soldiering for his lord. One day he and two other men-at-arms were ordered to apprehend a group of peasants that had dared to poach off of their lords forest. They were told to bring them in for “King’s Justice”, though the King lived far enough away to most of them that it might have been past the stars. They were told to kill any that resisted. He didn’t know until they were there that he was ordered to bring in his cousin Wat. His oldest boy had poached a brace of birds to feed his brothers and sisters, for the crops had failed this season. When Little Ric found out, he appealed to his commander, pleading to let them go, knowing that the punishment for poaching was a length of rope and short drop. All he got in response was a sharp backhand, and he was told to shut up and do his job. He flew into a rage, beating the other men unconscious. When he came to and learned what he had done, he helped his cousin’s family to flee to the farthest village any of them had ever been to, two days ride away. He then took to the road himself, becoming a wandering caravan guard for a time, then a bodyguard, mercenary, adventurer, and finally taking the name Sir Elric Yori, swearing his own knightly vow, or as close as he could imagine it to be, to be brave, chivalrous, strong, and gallant in every sense of the word.