Azerath awoke as the stars were fading. The hulk of a man groaned as he sat up. He liked to sleep under the stars with his massive great sword beside him. He strapped on his breastplate and winter furs, then pulled his long brown hair up into a pony tail. Only then cold you see that he regularly shaved the sides of his head bald to match his clean shaven face. He stood at 6'7" and had strength enough to rival a Minotaur.  His battered armor and great sword of Force bore only the scars of old battles, but despite that it was well taken care of. He wore no helmet because it restricted his vision , and this worrior had seen many battles. When he got the invitaion to join this escapade, he figured it would just be another paycheck, and said"Why the hell not?", packed up and left.<br/>When he heard the open invitation to breakfast he walked over with a jolly jaunt and smile on his face. "Good morning to ya!" and took a large portion of the oats. Azerath then noticed  D'varra, and asked "What's your story little guy?"