Ginger, greasy hair clumsily hangs over a fine, worried face. Small gray eyes, set graciously within their sockets, watch wearily over the country they've bled for for so long. An old tattoo of a sword is almost hidden just above the left side of his left eyebrow leaves a pleasant memory of his former lover. This is the face of Irving Lockridge, a true winner among dark elves. He stands ordinary among others, despite his sturdy frame. There's something odd about him, perhaps it's a feeling of hospitality or perhaps it's simply his bravery. But nonetheless, people tend to assist him, while hoping their sons will grow up to be like him.
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Private
