Hakkapelit

Bruno Åberg is described as a man of a decent build and noticeable height as is fitting for the officers of the Ruumisto, yet even then most tend to first notice his ghastly pale complexion that is effectively framed by his longer, blacken hair. His visage kept to the highest of standards even in affray, he always possesses a particularly gentlemanly aura that is condensed through his piercing, pale blue eyes. Everything about his presence consists of tactful and perennially self-aware conduct that always aims to create an image of a man who is a thorough follower of high social etiquette. A fact that is always backstaged by a looming, almost threatening sense of darkness that seeps from his proximity like heavy air.

The glint in his eye is always judging and coldly calculating in its nature yet equally humorous with that spark of awareness. His bold conduct spelling out his presence in a tasteful manner equal to his voice - with complete intent and a stark inability to turn a blind eye to even the slightest detail. His suave words are always spoken matter-of-factly and without an ounce of doubt or hesitation, carrying to them an almost soothing aura of confidence aired through his calm voice.


The gothic armor of the Hakkapelit mounted knight is in itself a symbol of the Nordic Lich's Ruumisto - steel coated in death's black embrace as a rebellion to the sun's deluge and plumed with contrasting blooden red strands to symbolize the art of war. When the Hakkapelit arrive on their black, foaming steeds, it is as if light itself retreats in their passing - their mere presence an ode to the sunless winters of the far north.

Used by the Lich as hunters more than mere warriors, most Hakkapelit don to their dark visages a varying manner of trophies their lord has granted for them to keep. In Bruno's case, his helmet is attached with a unicorn horn poking from its forehead, granting to himself the stolen mystique of one such fabled creature. The rest of the decor consists of white paints symbolizing their unit in unison with their insignia; the jestful cranium. For war is a game of no truths, but air and those who pull terms from its emptiness - and should you not be most joyous for such an opportunity to see the great game afoot?

The Hakkapelit are those born to know when the contest is afoot, running to it like one runs to see the laughter of their children.