Barlius

Joaken paused and waited. It had been many decades since he’d last seen Berlius and even though everything diminishes with time, nothing could quite prepare him for the sight that he now beheld, as the object of his hunt stepped into the sun’s light. The craggy features of the hill giant had aged. Hair jutted from his eyebrows, nose and ears, like a cluster of winter’s white icicles. His face was weathered, as well, like an old piece of worn leather. Some may have believed it was simply tiredness that befell the stalwart figure, but Joaken could see the great burden of loss that Berlius so evidently carried upon his shoulders. -From Hunt, an entry in the Tome of CHAOS

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