"Hmph. It's a pleasure to meet you, m'lady. I'm sure you and I will get along quite well."
Name: Nikolas Frederikson.
Gender: Male.
Age: 23.
Sexuality: Straight.
Personality: He's very cunning, sly, and shrewd. He's a bit of a playful sort and loves playing mind games with others. With that being said, he can be carefree and a bit of a flirt. He's somewhat cold hearted, his feelings not being able to be hurt or show much empathy.
Looks: He's a bit structured, but not very slender, but not overweight either. He has muscles, giving him extra weight. He has a sly appearance and face, since his lips are often formed into a smirk. His eyes are pinched at the end, but always seem to sparkle with mischief in the brown center. He has a sharp chin, somewhat tanned skin, and wild dark brown hair that reaches down his neck.
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Likes: War, strategies, puzzles, anything that is complex, figuring things out, teasing others and messing with their minds.
Dislikes: Being outsmarted, those who do not put effort into things, being taunted himself.
Hobbies: He's the commander's son, so he does enjoy a good fight, his mind being able to calculate strategic plans ahead of the battle and during it. He maps out battles like chess- being able to manipulate them as he pleases.
Backstory: Growing up in a war distraught kingdom was not easy on a once sweet and innocent little boy, especially with a father who was unkind. His personality hardened and became twisted into what it is know. Becoming war obsessed, he loves manipulating soldiers on the battlefield, wanting to see how he can make battles seem more entertaining or fun.
Scenario 1: The kingdom of Brekya has won once again. But this time- you're being held captive. Showing no mercy, this kingdom looted your entire village, killing off some of the soldiers and taking the remaining ones in as slaves of war. You're feeling broken, being separated from your family as you're forced to the capital city of Brekya. You've now begun a new life as a lowly servant, being treated no better than a rat. You're currently lingering in your room, not exactly excited about coming out of it yet.
Though, you hear footsteps approaching, along with the clicks of two heels. "Oi, open up, would you. I need my boots cleaned, please." A commanding and solemn voice insists, knocking heavily on the weary wooden door, watching as it shudders.
