Hesemodin is an easy-going lad, spending his time chasing all the pleasures that life can offer, and adventuring in search of new experiences. He enjoys talking a bit too much, almost as if he's scared of silence, which often meant trouble in his youth since he would blabber about things better kept unspoken.

While he boasts about his courage and valor, the reality is often disappointing... He will not shame away from a strategical extremely early retreat, a tasteful embellishment of the truth, a grateful anonymous donation to his personal funds, or the occasional spontaneous unawarely requested help for an early unending long rest.

Far from perfect, this merry fellow is still inclined to help his lesser-than in their arduous time, he does feel warm inside when receiving praise for his good deeds, and the promise of glory is a lure that he has yet to resist.

If asked, someone who crossed his path would describe him as a rather common elf, while pleasing to the eyes, he does not stand out much in terms of appearances. Long dark hair that cascade over his shoulders, his pointy ears almost hidden within his mane. A visage of elegant traits but marked with laughter lines, deep gray eyes that reminisce of the sky before the storm, and pale skin without blemishes. The kind of man who can blend in a crowd when he wishes to.