Meeting Basil is like inspecting a new map of an unfamiliar geographical landscape: dozens of trailing roads criss-cross his exposed arms, legs and face, telling the tale of untold battles fought, and yet somehow survived. His torso is covered in thick, mailed armour, visibly repaired time and again after receiving battle damage. He is tall, 5ft 11 with broad shoulders, a strong chiselled chin and an enthusiastic, affable nature.
Slung across his back is a mighty round thick metal shield, clearly built for sturdiness more than agility. It bears more than one sizeable dent. A mace made of thick cold, hard steel hangs from his waist, this too shows signs of wear and tear, one of the metal prongs of the flanges bent at a rough angle compared to the rest. Yet, it is clear he would use it to great effect: his arms bulge with clear strength.
His face is framed with a thick, dark brown beard, platted and coiled. His hair is cropped short, utilitarian to fit under a helmet with ease. Draped across his shoulders is a white cloak, emblazoned with bright yellow sun, the face of Heliod proudly displayed in its centre. He wears his faith clearly: a cleric of Heliod.
Basil spends his time seeming to tirelessly seek out adventure, to charge out toward danger with utter reckless abandon - particularly if there is a wrong in need of righting. While he posseses neither speed of mind or body, he more than makes up for it with raw determination, and perhaps Heliod's touch permitting him to tip the balance of life and death here and there.