[Sunny and Iggy]

This is an rp between Sweetsunnyrain and iggs. You may look but don't touch. ;b

Name: Laharl Marshawl
Age: 19
Height: 6 feet
Bio: Laharl comes from a small village on the outskirts of the great elf kingdom, a village greatly affected by the war. Like his late father before him, he set out at the age of 18 to become a soldier. He doesn't care so much for the kingdom as he does the pay it brings. He has to support his ailing mother and three younger siblings who aren't old enough to hold a real job. He is extremely skilled with hand to hand combat and even wields a small amount of magic; this makes him a favorite of the generals who keep passing him around the different groups being sent out to battle. He doesn't mind, as long as he can make money he doesn't care. Laharl has a personality that is a little hard to get along with at first. He is stubborn and hard to read, and doesn't take kindly to other people, unless they remind his of one of his younger siblings.
Appearance:

Spoiler:

The rain was coming down hard, harder than it had in weeks, and the ground was covered in mud. It made the long trek back to the palace that much harder. Laharl sighed, shielding his eyes from the rain with his arm. He was looking forward to a nice break before the next battle. He was hoping for at least a month of rest because of the injury he received in the most recent battle. He had gotten slashed in the leg and fallen off his horse, causing him to limp pretty badly. It wasn't too bad, but he really needed some time off.

"Fall in line men!" The commander called, motioning to the men straggling behind the crowd of tired warriors. Laharl was among them, trying to keep up. "The palace is in site! Injured soldiers report to the palace infirmary immediately; the rest are to follow me." The young man let out a breath he didn't know he as holding when he saw the beautiful city on the horizon. It was everything he ever dreamed it would be. With a smile he thought of how he would describe the site to his two little sisters, and of how jealous his brother would be that Laharl had his own sword. When the war is finally over, everything will be happy again.

The group of soldiers finally made it to the castle, palace guards waiting to intercept them and take them to their designated places. The commander saluted and the men fell in order behind him, all standing at attention as they await further orders. "I request an audience with the king," he said, motioning to Laharl to join him. It would be the first time he ever saw his highness, and he was grateful for his slightly elevated status that gave him this opportunity, yet wishing oh so much that he could go to the infirmary right away instead. "Laharl will be joining me. He has been keeping records of our battles. My other men are weak. Let them go to the infirmary for the best care." He said, voice deep and intimidating.

The guards nodded in response and the groups split off from each other. Laharl followed the commander and the guards to the throne room. Every inch of the palace was sparkling clean, marble and gold statues lining the wall. It was amazing. He took in the splendor as he limped along in pursuit of the fast stride of the three before him.