Galad

*** A giant stands here, one hand resting on the long hilt of his sword. ***
. . His clothes are a dark grayish green that would have faded into      . .
. . leaf or shadow, and his cloak swirls through shades of gray and green. .
. . and brown as it shifts in the wind.  It almost seems to disappear    . .
--- at times, that cloak, fading into whatever lies beyond.  Galad is   -----
||| tall and hard, broad-shouldered, with blue eyes like frozen mountain |||
||| lakes, and he moves with the deadly grace that makes to sword at     |||
||| his hip seem a part of him.  It is not that he seems capable of      |||
||| violence and death; this man has tamed violence and death and keep   |||
||| them in his mind, ready to be loosed in a heartbeat, or embraced.    |||
||| There is a touch of gray in the Rangers long hair, held back by a    |||
||| woven leather cord around his forehead, but younger men would step   |||
||| back from Galad - If they were wise.                                 |||
|||                                                                      |||
||| Rising from the ranks of the Crusades, Galad has shown his true      |||
||| Warrior spirit as he bears the Crusades upon his shoulders.  On his  |||
||| bared forearms are diving falcons, talons stretched.  And those      |||
||| who would steal the magics from the heavens, will feel the Glory of  |||
||| the Crusaders of Valor!                                              |||
****************************************************************************