Lord Ezra Riven
Leadership isn't really what people make it out to be.
Description: Ezra is taller than average and doesn't look particularly muscular but like sinew stretched over bone. His dark black hair flows in loose waves but is cut short nearly at the start of his neck. A perpetual stubble finds itself thickly attempting to make itself into a beard. His eyes tend to towards a squint, hiding a bit of the dark brown and tending to present a more intense look. His fingers are long and the entirety of his hands are rough from frequent use in harsh tasks.
Personality: Social but nowhere near a butterfly, Ezra prefers to maintain support position. While he finds himself lacking in formal structured settings, he thrives in small groups and in the peace of nature. Maybe it's because of his restless, wandering feet. Or maybe it's simply because there's a certain degree of irresponsibility that's inherent in him, an aversion to taking on any real role requiring strong leadership. It's not to say he can't make decisions so much that he wants a general direction. Whatever is just over that hill may have the answer
Background:     Ezra found his place at a young age, or so he thought. His parents seemed to be cultivating him to help run the Twainfort. No doubt his sister would have needed help and second sons always seemed to find positions of influence and power, if never quite the title. He enjoyed the opportunity to get out with his father, Laveer, on the hunt and relished the closeness of their bond. About the time when Ezra felt that he was really starting to get into the heart of what a man ought to learn and to be, he had the opportunity to visit Pridehall. The intention was to get a feel of the larger world and build what could become important connections with their banner lords before focusing in on the needs of the Twainfort.
It happened that while he was fostering with the Bislands, the Abandoned slaughtered his family in a brutal attack that left few survivors. Few things really left him feeling alone as hearing his family has been butchered and having no one else, none of his kin, there to comfort him. When it was finally deemed safe to return home, so much had changed that he felt out of place. Newly-made Prodigals seemed to be everywhere and his own sister had married one of them. It's not to say that Thesarin wasn't kind to him but it was the wrong age for him to be deprived of the father that he idolized and unlike his younger brother, he couldn't turn to this stranger to replace him. Though he tried to learn to serve the Twainfort and what was left of the House he knew as best he could, he always felt disconnected, out of place. It wasn't any fault of the people there, but it was a home that he didn't quite feel a part of.
In the end, Ezra found more comfort in the forest. The woods provided a welcome respite from all of the clashing sounds and strange customs of so many new people where he doesn't quite feel natural, doesn't quite feel like himself. Better yet, he could find some lingering memory of times spent with his lost father there, and so as the boy grew into a man, he more and more his days went to stalking among the trees, seeking... who knows what as often as he was hunting down the night's supper. Peace. Or a sense of home maybe, except that home no longer really exists.
His wandering uncovered long-abandoned places that left him wondering about what was and what could have been, stumbled into secret hiding spots that left him with more questions than they did answers. But at least those long, solitary days tracking a deer through the brush or scouring the ruins along the County's edge made him a fine explorer and an even finer scout. The latter is finally a role he can fill for his family and his House, a convenient middle-ground where he can rest instead of being torn between his unwavering loyalty to them and feeling as though nothing is ever quite still enough for him to settle into for very long. It hardly helps that Riven is changing still, always rushing on like the rivers they're named for.
|Aethan||Easily distracted and intimidated.|
|Amari||Like a bird flying free, just one of the flock - shwee shwee shwee! Seriously, an enjoyable companion to ride out into the wild woods with. Calm, patient, quiet and wonderful in his element.|
|Cirroch||Just. More. Whiskey? Yes. More Whiskey is good for you, keeps you warm at night. Gods and Spirits look out for this man|
|Emily||I like him. I feel like we might be kindred souls....save the fact spiders like him? What's up with that?|
|Esme||He collects 'sticks' and has maps, surely we are going to be great friends!|
|Grady||So nice to run into a cousin from the far side of the green wall that separates our domains. Not that I would know much about that, since I've never gone much past the treeline.|
|Ian||Good for a shove when you want to swing across quicksand against a doctor's orders.|
|Isabeau||A nice Lord, his eagerness to know how to suit Arx will serve him in good stead in time.|
|Maris||A good lookin' nobleman who seems like he's capable of putting in work. Though for some strange reason, I feel like he's a bit of an introvert.|
|Marzio||A Lord of Riven. I don't know much about the Rivens, but this one names himself as a woodsman. We'll see with his upcoming test!|
|Mirk||Not the first time I've met Lord Ezra, but he still maintains that most interesting quality: The ability to accept whatever is unfolding around him with apparent equanimity, and then take the appropriate steps.|
|Nigel||My brother. I have both missed him and not. I do not miss the relentless teasing, save for when it has been so incredibly long as it has been this last time. He seems to be settling into the city well enough, which is nice. I was worried that I would arrive and he rush off to the forest like usual.|
|Orland||Blushing and shy, he tries not to catch another man's eye, until he plays the tough guy.|
|Piccola||This one is quiet. That's probably by character. What he wears is suitably interesting and matches his silence. That's probably by calculation.|
|Raimon||Met Ezra on the training grounds. The man came well - armed, with his lightning - quick wit, incisive humor, and some quite daunting tales!|
|Zoey||I still remember him as the boy he was when we met, and thankfully the best parts of him never changed.|