Image imported from derpibooru 
Original Description:
 
Original Description From DA:  
Alburke Fallstorm  
Alias(es)- Al  
Species- Pegasus  
Age- 33  
Born- 22nd March AC 1434  
Gender- Male  
Sexuality- Heterosexual  
Height (all fours)- 6ft 3inches  
Coat- Brick red  
Mane/tail/beard- Blonde  
Eyes- Green  
CM- A black and green shield, with a red Christian cross in negative space at the center  
ADDITIONS TO NOTE-  
Alburke wears a cross necklace around his neck.
 
Bio-
 
The TLDR of Alburke’s traits are:  
Optimistic  
Strong  
Calm  
Quiet  
Dumb  
Clumsy  
Gullible/easy to deceive
 
Alburke Fallstorm was born in 1434AC in the misty riverside farming village of Afonlas (aff-on-lass), he was the third of five siblings. Afonlas would seem to be where his destiny was sealed: to live out his days as a farmhand and a shepherd, as all his family had been, generation after generation.
 
Unlike his siblings who easily found their mark as farmers, the colt Alburke did not take to farming. It bored him, and he wasn’t very good at it. Tools snapped under his use, he was clumsy with seed sewing, awful at herding animals, generally not a great farmhand. The discipline received from his father likely contributed to his quietness and his lack of leadership skills.
 
Sewing seeds into the ground one particular day, Alburke clumsily snapped the last tilling hoe the family had. Made to fetch another, he ventured down the cobbled street, passed the water well and between the thatch-roof houses towards Afonlas’ only blacksmith.
 
Here, Alburke’s world would change forever.
 
Slate and stone walls insulated the medieval building, and radiated the ferocious heat of the magma forge in the center. It hit him like a speeding wagon.  
The tools and swords steamed on the back wall, and chimed against the stone behind as the wind and heat pushed them to and fro. The iron metal smell coiled with the scent of autumnal fallen leaves and moss, which was picked from the slate walls by the crows and thrown onto the street cobbles in their search for food. This attack on the senses had completely entranced the young Alburke.
 
And then there was the sight of the place. The orange glow in the center from the primitive forge, the sparks that bounced from the smithing hammer and across the dry dirt floor. Dew that clung to the metal tools and the slate walls reflected the orange fire’s glow like a thousand stars on dark Mistrid nights.
 
The blacksmith, his gray coat scarred and blackened by smudgy ash, pulled from the hellpit in middle of his home a rod of molten steel: a sword. It glowed orange and red, before being plunged into bucketed riverwater at his side, and the metal hissed at him full of energy and rage.
 
Alburke had forgotten why he came here in the first place.
 
It was late by the time he had reached home. Two angry parents questioned where the colt had been all day. It felt like no time had passed at all for Alburke, so he gave his father the tilling hoe he had gone to purchase and simply said “At the forge.”
 
However Alburke need not say a word. His parents knew by now it was not a matter of time until he got the hang of farm life. He wouldn’t ever. They knew his destiny lay somewhere in the forge.
 
While Alburke’s farming duties were not neglected, his time away from his work was spent at the forge, admiring it all. He couldn’t get away from it, particularly the finished metalwork like the armour and tools.  
As the years went by, Alburke had been offered a position by the blacksmith as a subject of testing armour and weapons. He couldn’t have accept faster if he tried.
 
Alburke knew thus job would allow him do things like testing the tools and weapons for strength and useability, this sounded very exciting. However he also had to test the armour, which meant wearing it under conditions such as beaming heat from a summer sun, freezing snowy winters, running and jogging through the hills, and even receiving strikes from arrows, hammers, and even axes and swords.  
Alburke hadn’t realised the danger of armour testing, so it came as a shock when the time came to work.
 
Alburke was exhausted, bruised, dizzied, frightened and sometimes bloodied by the armour testing. However, constant exposure to these conditions would eventually render him an unbelievably composed man, all his fears were being wrung out of him, and he was becoming stronger. This calm demeanour leaked into his every day personality.
 
One particular evening, the village of Afonlas was stumbled upon by a gang of thieves. These thieves demanded something of an upkeep: 10 coins and two wagons of supplies, every month. If the conditions were not met, the town would be completely razed. Any villager found travelling to get help from the Royal Guard would get the village razed too.
 
Afonlas was not a well defended town, with no warriors of its own, and far from any immediate help. Alburke knew this, and after a few months of seeing his village become poorer and hungrier, had enough.
 
While unwise to go it alone, he ventured to confront these thieves, stealing the largest and heaviest sword he could find in the blacksmith’s shop.  
He stood next to the wagons, as the thieves arrived.
 
They questioned his motives, but Alburke stood firm. He calmly, but firmly, asked them to be on their way.
 
The thieves were not interested, and started to retrieve the wagons, but were stopped by the large Alburke.
 
The fighting began, clashing of swords, striking of hooves, kicking of dirt, but eventually Alburke prevailed victorious due to his newfound resilience, composure and skill with weaponry
 
The town along with hie family had gathered to see the fray, and cheered his victory. As reward, he was gifted the mighty sword he took, now solidified as his weapon of choice as it fit him perfectly.  
Not only this, his mark was finally revealed. A symbol of defense and knighthood to be sure, Alburke had finally found his role in Afonlas; as bulwark to any outside threat.
 
He continued his role as assistant weaponsmith in Afonlas, eventually obtaining his own set of heavy knight armour of fur, leather and steel. After the run in with the thieves, and the revealing of his mark Alburke had been considering his place in the world. Who was he supposed to be.
 
Perhaps his destiny lay in the hills of Mistrid, where The Kingdom of Calchfaen (calk-fane) can be found.  
Perhaps his destiny is to become holy knight of Mistrid, and a defender of its shores.  
Perhaps that is all too ambitious for a clumsy, partially literate farmhand from Afonlas. It was up to Alburke to find out.
 
Alburke is a quiet and composed man. You would be hard pressed to anger him as his most notable trait is his calmness. In battle, working, talking, in whatever he does. While his voice is indeed a large and deep one, its more often than not reserved.
 
Even for his time he didn’t possess the most impressive of minds. His literacy is poor, and he’s generally just unintelligent both academically and in terms of wisdom. He is a man of simple pleasures, but also of superstition, so Alburke is definitely defined by the time he was alive.  
However, his simple mindset grants Alburke a very positive and uplifting personality to his villagefolk. He isn’t really smart enough to introspect about the possibility of defeat or contemplate failure in his, or his allies efforts.
 
Alburke Fallstorm then is a religious man with a calm disposition and a relatively sunny attitude. While headstrong, this is both a boon and a curse due to the fact that his mind is not his sharpest tool, he can be fairly described as dull.  
Although happy to talk to anybody, Alburke has trouble reading peoples hidden feelings and seeing undisclosed intentions. Not everybody means what they say about how they feel, a fact which is completely lost on Alburke. If you say you are fine, he’ll believe you.  
He is also gullible and susceptible to lies about things he is uninitiated with.
 
(Adopted from R4HUCKSAKE on DA)