Everett Bryn’hur (EH-vur-it BRIN-hur)
Everett Bryn’hur, Jor’son
Everett Bryn’hur was born into a legacy of steel. His family had long since traded the open horizons of their wandering ancestors for the steady rhythm of city life, replacing the call of the plains with the clang of hammer on anvil. Among his people, the Bryn’hur name carried weight—renowned as master builders and blacksmiths whose craft shaped the world around them.
His father was a master weaponsmith, respected across the region for his skill. Leaders carried his blades, commanders rode into battle in his armor, and his work was sought after from war camps to royal courts. It was only natural that Everett would one day inherit the forge and the legacy it represented.
Talent was never the problem. From an early age, Everett showed an instinctive skill with steel, shaping metal with an ease that spoke of both heritage and hard work. His father was proud, his kin certain of his future. But to Everett, that certainty felt like a chain. He could not ignore the weight of a life already mapped out for him—a life of standing in the same place, making weapons he would never wield for battles he would never see.
Duty and expectation held him in place, but his heart wandered. He envied the travelers who passed through their shop—fighters, wanderers, and adventurers with stories etched into their scars. Their lives carried the freedom he craved.
For now, Everett remains at the forge, shaping steel beside his father. But his mind is elsewhere, caught between the world he knows and the one he yearns for. He is waiting.
Waiting for the moment.
Waiting for the excuse.
Waiting for anything to break the mold of the life he was born into—and give him the chance to forge one of his own.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Everett grew up in the heat of the forge, surrounded by the scent of hot metal and the steady rhythm of hammer on steel. His father, Jorrek Bryn’hur, was a master weaponsmith, renowned for his fine craftsmanship. His mother, Sella Bryn’hur, was a leatherworker who supplied scabbards, saddles, and armor fittings to some of the wealthiest patrons in the city.
It was never a question of what Everett would become. He was born into the forge—expected to inherit it, to uphold the Bryn’hur name and keep their legacy alive. And in truth, he loved the craft. As a child, he would sit at the edge of his father’s workshop, watching the flames dance, mesmerized by the way raw metal could be bent, shaped, and reforged into something useful.
But even then, there was a part of him that longed for something more.
Social
Speech
Everett speaks with casual confidence, a man who doesn’t waste words but always knows how to use them. His tone is relaxed, teasing, and a little cocky, but never without purpose. He’s not a braggart, nor does he posture—he doesn’t need to. His confidence is earned, not forced.
He’s quick-witted, sharp enough to get under someone’s skin if he wants to, but always leaves room for someone to wonder if he’s serious or just messing with them. There’s a rhythm to his words, a deliberate way of speaking that makes it clear he’s always thinking, reading the room, deciding how much of himself to give away.
Everett doesn’t dress up his speech with unnecessary words or flowery talk. He says what he means, but how he says it depends on his mood—sometimes smooth, sometimes edged, always carrying the weight of a man who knows exactly what he’s capable of.
He’s the kind of person who can turn a casual remark into a warning, a joke into a challenge, and trouble into a game. He might not always be looking for a fight, but his words? They make you wonder if he’d mind one.
I’m not sayin’ I’m lookin’ for trouble… but if it’s lookin’ for me, I’d hate to keep it waiting.
Species
Age
19 years
Children
Pronouns
He/him
Sex
Male
Eyes
Pale Blue
Hair
White and black. Short-to-medium, concentrated into a styled mohawk
Height
7’2” (2.18m)
Weight
340 lbs (154 kg)
Quotes & Catchphrases
"You swing that sword like you’ve never had to fix one before. Don’t worry—I’ll have a new one ready by the time you crawl back."
“Go on, keep talking. I wanna see how deep a hole you can dig before you figure out you’re in one.”
“I don’t start fights. I just make sure I’m the one walkin’ away from ‘em.”
