Name: Svein Folkvarson
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Class: Courtier
Physical Description (5 sentence minimum): Svein is, for the most part, an average looking young man. He stands six foot on the dot, though may sometimes be elevated an inch or two by his boots. Having a strong set of shoulders with a lean, slender, and muscular body; like that of a swimmer or runner, his efforts for physical fitness certainly do not go in vain. His face seems to have been chiseled from stone in the way that there are precise angles from his jaw line, to his chin, making it a strong and destinct one with accenting cheek bones. His lips are most often seen set in a tight and unwavering straight line, with dark brows above matching this stance. He wears his dark brown, almost black hair, to the shoulder and most often tied in a pony tail with a silk white ribbon. His skin is naturally very pale, destesting sitting in the sun for too long. He often gives off a negative first impression because he has a very specific air to him; haughty, distant, and unreadable. His manner and speech are very eloquent; often appearing slow because he takes his time in formulating sentences and responding. The only physical feature that may betray his external aloof nature are his eyes. His eyes are of the deepest shade of azure and usually portray a marble surface. But sometimes, there may be a crack within the stone.

And also, one will find his person to be very clean and neat as a pin. Having dirt not even to be found beneath his finger nails.
Native Duchy:Harleston
History (8 sentence minimum): Svein Folkvarson was born in Kjentland and lived there for a couple years into his childhood. His father was a sailor and a descedant of a long line of sea-fairing folk who earned their wealth and fortune that way. Thousands of years ago they did so by pillaging, as Vikings do, but in this more modern and civil society they simply run a well established merchant business upon the sea. His mother had been Sonja Thorsdottir and they had lived in the northern mountains of Kjentland while Folkvar, Svein's father, was often away at sea. Seven years after Svein, they had another child. A daughter they named Sigrud who was the spitting image of her mother. But, just one year after her birth Sonja passed away from and illness. Leaving Folkvar and Svein deeply grieved and Sigrud too young to know or remember anything. The pain was so immense that Folkvar could no longer find himself able to bear living in Kjentland when everything reminded him of her.
So he decided to move.
He moved to Harleston, in the Northern Neck, where he worked in the ports, but did not sail anywhere. His love for the sea also having disminished upon his wife's death. He worked for one of the major merchants there, a Lord Byron Wright who had actually been a long friend of the family through their trade business. And through him he met his daughter; Elizabeth Wright.
Elizabeth Wright was one of the youngest Wright sisters, and was a fairly attractive girl. She was very caring and compassionate individual who was also very modest and sometimes shy. She was first just coming to the Folkvar's house with some of her sisters to help him with his children since he worked during the day. Although, he had a sufficient amount of money where he could have just settled. But he could not stand being idle for too long and working kept his mind off of his deceased wife. Sigrud attatched herself to Elizabeth instantly, while Svein remained a bit more standoffish. And the relationship between Elizabeth and Folkvar was slow to bloom, but sure enough they married about three years later.
For awhile Folkvar was contemplating different ideas for work. Having lost complete interest in the sea and ships. Then, by a proposition of his new father-in-law, he began operating his own small business. He opened up a large shop in the town he lived near, a book and printing shop where he owned a Printing Press. With help of his father-in-law, he shipped books to his store and Folkvar sold them. And the books he published, with his printing press, had the logo of Folkvar Co. and the name of the bookstore was Folkvar Books. With his inheritence and the income he made from his small business was enough to keep his family always living in comfort.
Elizabeth tended their small manor and the children. Having a child with Folkvar not long after they married, a boy named Casper Folkvarson. Who Svein would always slightly detest, unable to grow beyond him being his step brother. Sigrud and Casper getting along well enough, but Svein and Sigrud would always have the closest relationship of the siblings.
Svein attended school and went to a college in Kjentland when he was 18. He has been there for the past four years and has just recently returned from there having graduated. Having grown up to be a very intelligent young man he excelled in many fields of study while in school. Quite multilingual he can speak six languages fluently, well educated in the modern science of that day, and a patron of literature, philosophy, and music. Quite the young scholar he also considers himself to be a philosopher, and has branched away from the religion of his family-Christian-Catholics. But, he keeps this under his hat...for he is quite aware of the maelstrom he would bring only to himself by voicing his true beliefs to his family.
Parents: Folkvar Gunnarson and Elizabeth W. Gunnarson
Siblings: Sigrun and Sonja Folkvardottir and Casper Folkvarson.
Personality: Svein is a very reserved individual. He prefers to be alone and keep to himself, often ensconcing himself in books or his own independent study. Upon first encounters, he may appear haughty and aloof, and will remain so. Only the closest friends of his and closest family members know Svein for his true, compassionate self. However he can be a polite and well-mannered individual, but he is slow to trust. He is witty and clever and puts a high value on education and knowledge. He has many interests and there are a number of things he does enjoy, but most of these things involve singular participation. He can be charming when he wants to be, but people find him to be, for the most part, unreachable.

Items:
--One black Swedish Warmblood mare named Tove.
--1st Outfit; blue poets blouse with dark grey breeches and knee high dark brown boots
--2nd Outfit; A white tunic with a laced neck and wide sleeves worn with dark grey hose and a pair of simple dark grey shoes.
- One nightshirt; silk, slight embroidery
- One silver chain – simplest piece of jewelry, no jewels, just a chain.
- An old and beaten silver ring with Eldar Futhark runes on it. Having been passed along down the eldest males in his family.
- One sword: old, about to rust
- One traveling cloak w/hood
- A book of parchment, ink, and quill, with a little bit of sealing wax
- Hygienic effects: hair comb or brush, shaving equipment, etc. You can just assume that you have anything you need to stay clean and well-groomed.
-Has a white siberian husky named Sköll.
-Is better at swordfighting then hunting. He dislikes hunting; is a vegetarian.
-He is striving to be a writer, often writing philosophies and poetry. But his other talents would be drawing and dancing.
-He chooses to have no man servant. Though his family still has servants.
Roleplay Sample (Two paragraph minimum - Ten sentences):
Twisting and dancing shadows were thrown against the curved walls as the stairs groaned when the tall, young man mounted them holding a candle. Having just finished dinner that had been surprising peaceful, having not managed to get into another arguement with his step-mother. Which had been a reoccuring theme for the past couple weeks. He had wanted to take his sister, Sigrud, with him on a trip to Kjentland. Their homeland, to visit some of their family still there. Sigrud hadn't been back there since she was a little girl, though Svein had been living their for four years for school. Honestly, he admitted only to himself, he just wanted a reason to go back there again.
As he ascending the winding, narrow staircase, turning and turning so he did with his thoughts. His step-mothere rebuttle had been that Sigrud was too sick.
She was alway sick.
A heavy sigh like an iron weight dropped from his lips, besides her blindness she always had a terrible cough and sometimes spit up blood and could hardly breathe. She was frail, always in need of looking after. Even more so then their baby step-brother. "It's this place," Svein mumbled to himself, convinced of this. But he could take care of her, Svein. He was usually the only one that took care of her and actually spent time with her. He loved her dearly and had missed her the most when away at school.
Reaching the final step of the tower to which was his personal abode, he opened the door to his room. Shutting it gently behind him he walked about the circular room and lit each candle that was mounted upon the wall. Then afterwords with a quick and abrupt breathe he blew out the one in his hand, and set it down on his desk. Grey smoke coiling up from the dead whick to giving off a pleasent aroma of lavender. His slippered feet cross the floor to stand at one of the tall, narrow windows that went from the floor of his room and high to the cieling then the sides meeting together in the middle like a triangle.
Clasping his hands behind his back his gaze was cast over the sea. The restless sea that constantly heaved and rolled, that was depthless and full of mystery and peril. And the stars; his eyes rose. The stars in their millions, burning flames, that illuminated the world like the candles in his room.
"Someday," He whispered, eyes searching for the horizon that had been blanketed by the night, "I will return again."
And turning away from the window; he drew the covers off his bed.