Born in Germany but transplanted to the United States of America at an early age, Erhardt was bitten by the wine bug early. His parents gave him careful instruction as to how to pick, pour, and drink wine, and this paid great dividends with the ladies in college. He saw no way into the wine industry, though, and had resigned himself to a lifetime as a librarian, organizing meetings for the Society of Telemachus in the student meeting rooms.
Lightening struck on one of his wine tours of the Valley. Turning into an obscure vineyard called Arcadia, he found the place in utter disarray. Disgusted by the waste, he stormed into the director's office and gave the man a piece of his mind. The director, a French satyr named Jean Losique who knew nothing about wine, agreed when Erhardt announced that he could do a better job running the place, and offered him both the job and the honorary knighthood that came with it. It took Erhardt under a minute to say yes and he's still wondering why it took him that long.
Blessed with the most spectacular drooping mustachios in all of the Kingdom of Pacifica, Sir Erhardt looks better suited to cavorting across the Alps in lederhosen than running a highly profitable winery. his eyes hide behind thick glasses, but just because his vision's wonky doesn't mean his gaze isn't sharp. When dealing with mortal matters, he can most often be found in a simple white shirt and jeans, simply because he expects to be hauled out into the muck of the vineyard to deal with emergencies at any moment. As incongruous as it seems, he keeps the mustache in his fae mien. It droops out from under his long nose, which itself peeks out from under his wine-red enameled helm. He is actually almost constantly in armor and always wears work clothes for the same reason: he constantly expects the worst. his mail is made from bands of some great beast's hide, tanned into leather and colored with the vineyard's best. Only the helm is enameled and that, it is snidely noted, is because he always manages to take one on the chin in practically every Tourney or Hunt he attends. (This does tend to attract much sympathy from gentle-minded Kithain ladies; Sir Erhardt is a lover, not a fighter, and he's not nearly as bad at combat as he seems.)
Erhardt is a nice guy with way too many responsibilities. He's being nibbled to death by ducks. He's a satyr, after all, and the business end of running the Winery depresses him horribly. Thank goodness he has JZ to help out. The others, though he loves them all dearly, are absolutely no use at all accept, of course, when it's time to drink the profits. It's like being a kindergarten teacher but someone has to do it and it might as well be him. Now if only he got paid like members of the teachers' union...
One of his deep dark secrets is that he's actually quite literate and prefers reading to doing just about anything else. He also has a well-hidden, very dry sense of humor which manifests itself precisely when others don't expect it. He hates violence and will go to almost any length to avoid it. That end of things he abdicates almost entirely to his head of security. He's a people satyr, not a details satyr, and eventually he's certain everything will come out alright... more or less.