Xirru

Xirru is a vindicator of the Light, first and foremost, and though one might assume from first appearances he was a grumpy, no-nonsense harbinger of the Light, they would be surprised to learn that the draenei is as warm, selfless and understanding as they come. Speaking with the wisdom that comes with the thousands of years that he has lived, Xirru does what he can to help guide those who are lost and comfort those who have fallen on their journies through life.

Even if he doesn't exactly have a solid grasp on the lives and customs of those whom were born here on Azeroth! While he is dedicated to serving the Light, Xirru will hardly cram his beliefs down anothers throat and, instead, loves to listen more than he loves to speak. It is for thise reason the man has made several unlikely friends along his many adventures across the lands! It has been said, perhaps jokingly at first, that Xirru has the patience of a saint and though it is both humorous and ironic, it is quite true.

Xirru is slow to anger and even slower to draw his blade, preferring to use his words in place of violence when at all possible. However, one should never assume that Xirru is incapable of bringing down the heavy hand of justice upon those who would threaten him or his friends... There is a reason this draenei carries an assortment of heavy armaments when he travels!

Appearance
Titanic both in size and spirit, Xirru is a draenei not unlike many other males of his species. He is broad and strong, yet calm and always willing to aid those in need. Though his sheer size might intimidate those smaller than him, they would be quick to find that Xirru would never bring his wrath down upon those who were not utterly deserving of it and, even then, it would take a great deal to truly try this man's patience.

As mentioned before, Xirru has a broad build and while he is not the mountain of rippling muscles some might assume he is beneath his armor, the amount of 'fluff' that clings to his frame is just enough to give this man a mold much like that of a rather large bear. His arms and legs are thick with muscle and one would do well not to try their luck with this blue-skinned powerhouse for even though he would sooner smile than raise his fist in retribution, there would be no mercy shown; a blade never brandished unless there was pure intent to smite that which would be called 'enemy'. Much like his limbs, Xirru's chest is wide and well-sculpted with thick pectoral muscles that one might assume could crush a small melon between them! Xirru's mid-section, however, is not lined with washboard abdominals like those of a younger generation. It seems in his age, Xirru has put on just a little bit of weight, but again, not enough that one might call this draenei fight... Suffice it to say he has what the humans might call... 'Dad-bod'?

Clearly seen, Xirru's skin is blue, though it is not nearly as azure or pristine as it might have been in his youth. Thousands of years of ware and tear have marred this man's skin with many gruesome scars; some faded while others are still on the mend. The most noticable scarring, however, is the large burn mark that covers a good portion of the right side of Xirru's face; a wound sustained during an explosion years ago which nearly claimed the draenei's sight. Though he was fortunate enough not to lose it nor his sight completely, Xirru still struggles to see out of his right eye and for that reason he wears a specially crafted monocle over it; the device allowing him to magnify things he might otherwise not be able to see. That, and it comes in handy when he is tinkering with things. Though he is old enough to have been an adult on Argus with both a wife and child before the planet's eventual fall, Xirru's feature only barely hint at this via the crows feet in the corner of his eyes and the small appearance of laugh-lines that have began to form around his mouth. Being damn near ageless, Xirru looks AT BEST as though he might be compared to a man in his mid to late forties. Due to his age, Xirru's hair has paled greatly to a silvery-white; a farcry from the jet black it had once been many, many years ago. Having never taken the time to cut it, only trim it now and again, Xirru keeps his hair tied back into a rough fox-tail, but does little else with the thick tresses of hair. When it comes to jewelry, Xirru wears virtually none save for the small silver rings he wears on each of his four tendrils and even those are basic in appearance. Neither of his ears are pierced and his thick tail bears only a single broad band of gold around its base.