As an old man, Constantine still stands tall and manages to maintain an impressive figure that could, and does put many younger men to shame. Measuring 6 feet tall and clothed in the deep purple robes of his order made of the dyed fur of snow leopards, the thin gold trim around the edge being the only telltale sign of his standing within the order.
A mane of white hair cascades down his back reaching its small. Of this he is most proud, not greying like that of other most other men his age.
Now he hides his face beneath a large hood. A marked man. Horrendously scarred.
A desciple of Mathom in his early days after being preassured to join the prieshood, as was common practice among the noble families for the laterborn.
Constantine grew up as the fourth son of a minor noble, the firstborn having signed up to serve with the Empiric Legion, the second to manage the fathers' estate and the third going into medicine.
As a youth he was notoriously lazy, escaping duties whenever he could. Being a nuiscence and prankster. There weren't many he didn't dare upset. Except Cook, you never upset the Cook. This, to his father was disgraceful, whilst at the same time it made it easy to decide which Order of which Cult he would be sent to.
Time in the Order
When he first came to Mathom's high temple in the east of the Empire.