Uriens is a noble of the UnSeelie court despite being part of a disgraced house and understands there is a certain expectation to his actions. He carries himself like a ruler because that is who he represents in the territory as he acts as arbiter for the UnSeelie community.
Unless with those whom he considers close he is often aloof and reserved with most of the supernatural community. Typically he is more likely to be open with another member of the fae or with one of the Lilin or Dragons because they are old enough to understand and share his mindset. Witches, humans, and the youngest of shifters he sees as too young and while he will be polite he avoids spending excessive time with them. Vampires are only interacted with if it is completely unavoidable or necessary.
Without glamor Uriens is taller and sharper looking than his human guise. He is handsome in that otherworldly and frightening way that fae are. Most noticeable though is the bright blue hair that falls down past powerful shoulders and the silver eyes. Additionally he has twin serpent tattoos of blue wode around his wrists and purple scar that runs up his right forearm.
The House Vainglory is a noble fae house with a dark history giving it a somewhat unseemly reputation even for the UnSeelie. During the Roman invasion of Britian in AD 43 the House threw their lot with the Roman invaders as a power play against the other noble Houses. The gamble ended badly when the Romans left and House was renamed Vanagloria or, in the modern vernacular, Vainglory. Without their Roman backing House Vainglory was forced into exile and that is where the rumors begin...
No one outside the older members of House Vainglory know the truth but stories such as interbreeding with demons and sorcerers abound amongst the fae. The reason for this is that Vainglory's are known for their unusual coloring with hair colors ranging from cool blues to ruby reds with every hue of purple in between. As well as eyes that hold metallic and jewel tones. Rare is a Vainglory that has the typical Sidhe shades of ginger, brown, or black hair.
However, unlike they're brethren the House Vainglory seems to not bear the curse of childlessness that plagues most fae in the advent of cold iron. Many fae attribute this to the Vainglory's mixed blood but in light of dwindling numbers the UnSeelie courts grudgingly welcomed House Vainglory back into their fold.
It was at this time in the 13th century that Uriens was born to House Vainglory, third of his Father's sons . While still in his minority Uriens was fostered to the House of L'Faie where he became foster brother to the much older Nimue L'Faie who acted more as his mother than sister, either way the bond was formed.
When Nimue went to take control of the UnSeelie Pacific Territory as Queen in the 18th century as part of a generation of Fey that emigrated to America she brought Uriens as her loyal vassal, rumored by some to also be her lover. Nimue herself denied, and continues to deny, such rumors for although she is a strong no Queen could suffer the scandal of having a Vainglory in her bed.
For many years Uriens managed the Queen's estates and was even the one to introduce Nimue to her official consort Cedric Amardir. But now the Queen has seemed to tire of her foster brother and has sent him to rule the northern most point of her territory, a post that most among the court equate to exile.
Healing: User can restore biotic organisms to their optimal health, curing damaged or withered organisms, wounds, broken bones, low vitality, and diseases/poisoning. Though the user may potentially heal any form of bodily damage, the patient must be alive, even if hanging by a thin thread, in order to be healed; once the patient has died, it would transcend healing and would require resurrection instead.
Aerokinesis : User can create, shape and manipulate air and wind. Skills include transportation via air, removing air from spaces, and creating breezes, squalls, gusts, whirlwinds, zephyrs, gales, tempests, and hurricanes depending upon power and skill level. However, one risks removing the air around themselves and suffocation if not careful with the talent.
Weakness to Cold Iron - Fae have an aversion to cold iron and when touched the fae's skin blisters as if it has been burned. Enough cold iron can burn a fae to death.
Truth- Fae are bound to the truth and cannot lie outright, but any fae of experience knows how and when to talk around the truth.
The fae's eyes dropped to the dog and warmed in the way a man would admire a trained animal. "I will consult the Master of Hounds but given most of our company have brought their own dogs I do not think it will cause much issue. Though..." He considered a moment and then looked at the man quite seriously, "She does not spook at spirits, does she not?"
Uriens face lit up with pleasure and he nodded, "I am indeed. The Hunt calls for something worthy of the courts attention... usually a stag is released from the fae lands or a spectral beast but the Wendigo is special. It promises to be a Hunt that is spoken of for years to come."
It was then that Uriens raised a single dark eyebrow to the man whom he suspected wasn't a man at all. Only the beast-like fae had the nose to smell out other creatures but no fae past their third century would not pick up on the subtle clues. The fact that the man talked about the Wendigo in such a casual tone told Uriens he was either dealing with a human with a spine of steel or a monster on par with the Wendigo.
"Yet you have not answered my question," he continued, "Do you wish to join us?"
"This one," the fae lord said in a tone that was equal parts irritation and mirth, "Is Uriens Vainglory. Since we seek to pass the evening in each others company we might as well exchange our names."
Uriens didn't seem to note the cold though he was far better dressed for it than the dragon-man with is costume, though something about the ease with which he wore the medieval garb suggested it was something he wore often. He turned his sight once again to the sign, the neon near reflective in his silver eyes and he frowned at it like a merchant who had been given a bad bargain. He then, more from a whim than anything else, followed the path that the porcupine's eyes followed and then pointed a glove hand to the glimmering object adjacent to the bar.
"There," he said not bothering to hide the smug from his tone.
Uriens usually stern face broke into a smile at the stranger's question and he glanced briefly over his shoulder at the gathering. More vehicles were just arriving with the tents that would be used to keep the guests warm and fed before the hunt commenced and Uriens took on an air of satisfaction.
"Why we are preparing for the Hunt," the fae lord said in a way that implied that everyone should know what that was. Yet he looked back at the rider and upon seeing the lack of recognition he sighed inwardly, youth is oft wasted on the young. "Tonight we will ride to track the beast that inhabits the woods, the winner is given a boon or prize of his choosing, and then we feast until mid morn the next day."
Uriens then took the time to look over the man in an assessing way a general would a soldier in his ranks, "Would you care to join us? There is always room for guests."
Uriens stepped in the direction of the rider, waving off his entourage so that he did not approach the man in a threatening manner. With long strides of booted feet he closed the distance until he was but fifty feet away. In his guise of glamour Uriens was nothing particularly impressive to look at but the way he carried himself spoke of the authority he bore.
"Hail," he said, his voice carrying across the expanse and echoing off the water. His accent was there but it was a strange garble of Irish and Welsh along with something else that sounded Italian. "Welcome stranger."
Uriens spotted the man on horseback at distance and his interest caused the others in the party, to include the master of hounds, to turn their heads and look in the same direction.
"Friend of yours my lord?" asked the master of hounds in a form of Welsh that hadn't been heard in regular speech for well over a century or two.
"I recognize neither rider nor mount," the fae Regent said in a matter-of-fact tone that belied his curiosity. He raised his hand in salute to the man acknowledging his presence and seeing if would encourage him to come closer. As he did so he continued to speak to the master of hounds, "Ensure the hounds are ready for night fall Master Rhodri. Our quarry is best sought under the light of the moon."
"As you wish Lord Vainglory."
"There will be other competitions," the fae agreed neutrally though behind the air of disinterest the fae was actually disappointed the dragon-masked man gave up so easily. Yet he hid his feelings so well that only the Lilin with their empathic ability to sense the emotions of others would have noticed.
He turned now to face both men though his gaze lingered on the newcomer, "Do you wish to join us? I do not think the effort could be harmed with the addition of one more." He glanced over at the dragon-masked man and again there was that sense that he was lifting his brows though they couldn't be seen, an unspoken inquiry to see if his compatriot would mind a third.
Cool silver eyes shadowed in the eyelets of the mask slid over to the newcomer as he approached and there was the sense that the fae lord was raising a single eyebrow though it was hidden behind his guise. "Indeed," he said in a casual tone that spoke nothing of his emotions though he was curious.
He felt more than saw the dragon-masked man come up behind him and he tilted his head in direction of the man, half in greeting and half in acknowledgement of the dragon-mask's statement. "We are on the hunt, we seek a sign that will lead us to this night's amusements," A rather flowery to state they were looking to get into a place where they could drink heavily but fae were fae, a straight answer was never in their vocabulary.
He turned now and his face tilted towards the sky as if he heard something on, or in the wind, "Although, we may yet be waylayed in our quest. Perhaps if we combined our efforts we better our chances?"
They arrived well before dawn in trailers and SUVs but soon the sound of horses and hounds rang out across the lake. When first light finally came there were over a dozen, their dress a mixture of modern and times long past depending upon the nature of that particular fae, less flashy were the grooms and hound handlers with jeans and flannel shirts but there was a set of eight or nine that were clearly people of importance. Among them dressed in shades of grey and blue was the Regent of the UnSeelie though today he wore his glamor to hide the unusual coloring of his heritage.
This was the beginning of the logistics for the years wild hunt, a tradition that had fallen out of practice in the Alaska territory but Uriens was attempting to revive it in a desperate attempt to garner some unity among the lesser fae nobles who made their home here. He stood with his peers and the master of hounds who was explain to them the importance of having enough space for the hounds to rally lest they get underfoot of the horses.
Uriens was intent on the explanation when movement out of the corner of his eye caused his head to turn and he spotted something amiss