There's a character in a storygame I'm planning to write, and we are introduced to him via soliloquy. Feel free to tell me about whatever impression you made of him. I'd give more info but that'd defeat the purpose of this exercise.

“From out Time's deep-shadowed mists arise,
A spectral figure, with hempen hair
Of grizzled grey, and deep-gouged face
Thrice rent by Time, and lined in grim despair.

Slow it moves; but that around it slower
Its groaning weight doth heave with pain;
He bends, not of age, perhaps he's immortal:
Once grasped, this shining stone he casts down again.

The black void clings malignant round,
Still eons pass: the mists remain unfurled,
Dark shadows light, and flit, and go;
Quiet rests the shining on rock where it is hurled.

Grey spectre struggles still up slopes unscaled,
Casts out a thought in space unknown,
This but returns; unanswered: attached is 'IF';
Little being, that mark is but thine own.

An edifice is raised; his world; his home,
Here nurtures he his thoughts, hopes, fears,
But little he learns and short his stay,
And monster Time maims youth, leading trampling years.

He falls, but only again to rise;
Now strength is his, and belief his crutch,
Greedily he collects, and certainties appear,
But those that helped show yet more; beyond his clutch.

Like babes, whose truths from sages stem,
Questions unanswered are hidden from his cry,
Though now grown, slow he is to question them,
And finally waxes strong the emphatic 'WHY'?

'Irreligious beast' they yet retort with ire,
'To question pretty legends of prince and myth';
And still the gauze-veil deadwood hides
From reaper, the golden crops true pith.

Heavens, stars, galaxies and worlds,
On them he looks, his air profound;
Once aloof Creation's prince bows down,
Now what is he: a note in an orchestra of sound!

Onward to calamity and fame he trudges,
Yet still he seeks to answer: When, Where, and Why?
With his knowledge limited, and view
Of one small star, he reconstructs the sky.

It is infinite, he but mortal flesh and blood;
Never did IT come, thus it stands a FACT:
He lives, to be superseded, like all he makes,
Furnishing a line in the Eternal Act.”