West Marches - Copenhagen
Disgraced wizard on the path to self realization.
Standing roughly 180 centimeters, weighing about 60 kilograms, Simaunil has a very average build for an elf. He has rather sharp facial features, with thin lips, visible cheekbones and a pointed chin, often scratching the latter when deep in thought. His eyes are a pale shade of violet and the accompanying comfortable but keen glare reveals him as an intelligent, if sometimes
a little blunt positively critical, individual.
More often than not he wears the same garment he graduated in, a practical but slightly volumous robe, with plenty of room for movement. Kingsblue with silver linings and a few strips of colored fur, it was without a doubt an expensive piece of clothing, but much of the value has eroded away with the years. It is now slightly discolored with browns and greens, occasionally patched, and frayed around most of the edges. Still, he keeps it.
Primarily Simaunil arms himself with spells, incantations, rituals and what-not’s, but is rarely seen entering the wild without longbow and quiver, and although preferring to stay at a distance from the enemy, his defensive magic is very capeable at keeping him, and others, safe from harm.