Captain of the city watch
1,The man's appearance [appearance] [age] His hair [hair] [nose] [beard] [eyes]
1,His eyes are pale and speak of finite abilities of comprehension, for their is in their stark stare the lack of depth one sees in the eyes of birds. 1,His eyes are narrow and speak perhaps of a heritage not wholy human, for his irises are patterned strangely and his pupils not perfectly circular. They seem to simmer beneath his low brows, spiteful and bellicose. 1,His china blue eyes are startling, wide and clear, a clarion call of intelligence and frank appraisal. 1,Red rimmed and blurred, his gaze speaks of either long nights spent working at a desk in the smoky light of torches or nights steeped in debauchery and wine, such that his stamina is sapped and his gaze rendered inert. 1,Sharp and piercing, his eyes are sunken into high cheekbones but yet retain their authority. 1,He blinks rapidly on occasion, as if different visions pass before his face, images and illusions that he seeks to banish before refocusing once more on you. 1,Despite his frank manner, his eyes are strangely suggestion, sometimes seemingly almost to wink at you or slurry into a leer that quickly disappears before you can pinpoint it.
1,arouses suspicions of degeneracy, from his sallow skin to the lank greasiness of his hair, calling to mind nights spent in the thrall of wine, dream-spit and catamites. 1,evokes images of violence, from the hunched tension in his broad shoulders to the menacing and rhythmic manner he has of slowly clenching and unclenching his fists. 1,hints at languid disposition, from the laconic cast of his long face to the pensive and distracted manner of his face, epitomized by the way his eyes constantly stray to the horizon. 1,is deceptively unassuming, until further study picks up on the spatterings of blood on his muddied boots and the hem of his cloak, the manner he works absently at tonguing something free of his teeth, the filth beneath his nails. 1,serves to emphasize the monolothic nature of the city guard, for he stares with unyielding constancy, his mouth hanging slightly open, his face without expression, the skin fashioned almost from clay, making one think of automatons and fabula. 1,undercuts the gravity of his role, for he shifts his weight from heel to heel as one hand constantly picks at the hem of his cloak, a dry tongue poking out to lick at his flaking lower lip. 1,speaks of indulgences, an appreciation for the finer things in life, for his girth strains his thick leather belt of woven leather even as his skin gleams with a faint sheen of sweat.
1,Barely out of his teenage years, he possesses a presence attained only by those who have bourn much, and understood that their lot in life is determined by the fates. 1,Despite being in the summer of his life, his skin is heavily cut by grooves and lines of tension, as if the burdens he bears bring him to the breaking point. 1,Once he must have possessed a vital energy, but those days are long gone, and now the years have ashened his skin and robbed his frame of its fullness, so that he seems but a shadow come to haunt his former self.
1,is matted mass of locks and knots, a wild revelry of umber waves that seem to defy his every attempt to tame it. 1,is cut in a severe bowl, perfectly trimmed so that it but touches the upper rims of his ears and cuts a sharp line of black across his forehead, leaving the nape of his neck naked to the wind. 1,is of the lightest flaxen hue and pulled back into a luxurious tail that hangs braided down between his shoulder blades, feathers and beads and lucky tokens woven into its mass. 1,a riot of curls, iron in coloration like the blade of a serviceable weapon, a crown that he is forced to wear despite his obvious attempts to shear it off. 1,cut in a soldier's style, clean and close to the scalp, so that the architecture of his skull is visible to all, its angles and prominences. 1,is but an intimation, a few curls about his ears as the clouds might circle the base of a vertiginous mountain, his scalp a torrid mass of scars that interlace like mating slugs where the rest of his hair was seared away. 1,heavily oiled and shaped, gleaming wetly and strangely static, not moving even with the sharpest of turns of his head.
1,An aquiline nose dominates his visage, fine and aristocratic and flanked by twin flaring nostrils. 1,His nose is ruinous, broken more times than can be imagined, kinked and splayed and causing his breath to whistle when he inhales. 1,His nostrils are voluminous, large enough to insert your thumbs into, a filled with sharp, spiky hairs that would merit the appelation of 'bristles'. 1,A pug nose sits squat in the center of his face like a dog turd. 1,A hooked nose of such length descends down the center of his face that it summons images of cunning puppets, their noses reaching down to their chins and hanging right over their lips. 1,His face, otherwise a powerful and striking one, is undercut by his soft and fragile nose, a wisp of flesh and cartilage that looks like it might have been pared down for cosmetic reasons.
1,His face is clean shaven, but recently so--the skin over his jowls and upper lip are more palid than the rest of his skin, soft and almost cadaverous in texture. 1,He sports the beginning of a beard, faint curls that climb across the length of his jawline and nestle on his upper lip, either the product of a week's growth or the frustrating results of months attempts to prove his manliness. 1,He wears a sharp, thickly grown beard that might once have been a mighty growth--recently it was chopped just beneath the jawline, giving his face a severe and harsh frame. 1,A long braid grows from his chin, thick as his wrist and reaching his sternum. Otherwise his facial hair is cropped close. 1,A mass of thin braids descend from his cheeks, jowls and chin like a seething nest of snakes.