Fluff RP

Castiel Al-Rassan was a man of many mysteries and wonders. Foreign features, alluringly dark eyes and a handsome face. He certainly held the aura of intrigue well, donning it like a second skin. He was a sellsword, or at the very least had been. He'd had his fair share of combat. He'd been at it since he was a boy, the youngest fighter in his company, at only 14 he'd been sold into it. Branded, and stamped as property. He'd fought in military campaigns for Lords he had never seen or met, he'd shed blood for people that he did not know. He still remembered his first proper battle. 2 years worth of training, instilled into him. He was still just a mere boy of 16, dark hair falling to just above his below his ears in waves, honey brown eyes and tanned skin making him stand out in the wash of pale skin and blue eyes. First in through the breach, sword in hand, a helmet too big for him and a chestplate made for someone fatter than him. All hand-me-down gear from the men before him. Men who had died, and were no longer using it. His sword was perhaps the only thing suited for him. He'd had it with him since he was 14, he had trained with it. In those two years, it had become an extension of his arm. It was part of him.