MethodD's page

Description: A human cloaked in dark green veiled attire stands before you. What can be seen of his skin is heavily tattooed and marked with both ink and scar. His eye color is green spiked with blue near the edges, and his original hair color is black with a touch of hazel brown. Kestrel's features look as if they have been cut from the stonemason's chisel, they are strong, angular, leaving little room for middle ground. When unmasked his hair is either down or back, and he is generally well groomed. The rogue's tattoos are angular and interlocking, though it seems there are still a few spots on his body left untouched.

Personal Style: The attire of the thief is made largely from cotton and dark leathers. His leather stitched breeches are reddish brown, while his studded leather vest is green to a shade of black. His hooded cloak, face wrap and turban are all well cut and dark green. The man's belt, gloves and boots are all dark brown. The weapons of the shrouded rogue are generally larger then average, built with a slight curve, and of Elven or Kelesh make. Though neither nationality is his own, Kestrel prefers the agility of crescent steel over the iron of his youth.

Personality: Quiet, somewhat sly and colorfully blunt, Kestrel's point of view is to take or act first and deal with the frivolities later. When disguised, other elements to his personality arise, but he is usually quick to denounce their real bearing on his character. He has empathic traits for the downtrodden from time to time and is quite comfortable around Elves and Elvish custom.

Background: Born to the Cheliaxian Ravounel Forest and self raised in Kintargo and Westcrown, Kestrel was an independent operator whom became quite confrontational with the Counsel of Thieves when his debt ridden brother was murdered by their assassins. Staging a brutal ambush, Kestrel left the country to travel abroad and loose those seeking payback for his own reckoning.
Hired by both sides of the Taldor-Qadira conflict, Kestrel has acted in a reconnaissance fashion to undermine the truce without confronting open war. This ranged from such actions as sabotage, theft, blackmail, planting evidence to open murder and acting as a proxy to hire marauders for that perspective kingdom. Experiencing events both private and traumatic, the man has become a free agent once more but one without a political agenda skirting neutrality.

Personality:

Kitsune is a young man who holds within himself the sharp presence of immediacy. There is a swift emotional tempo pressed deep below the precise calculation of the surface. He walks a fine line between utter calm in the face of adversity to volatility when necessary. His can be slyly light in spirits and accommodating until there is business to confront; from which he becomes direct and forthcoming if seen at all.

Description:

This shadow is a calm faced man with pale skin and short black hair. His features are sharp and angular without marking except for a slight burn near the eye sockets. His body is hard, lithe and lined with muscle like a coil. There are no tattoos to speak of other then an array of scars tracing over the torso. Upon meeting Kitsune for the first time, one could say his body language was fierce yet almost subdued as a cloak of mist. He is highly agile, flexible and moves with the body language of an animal more then that of man.

Background:

Born to a Sczarni family of gypsies, Kitsune's birth name was Lucius Rye. The clan traveled from Ustalav province to province, leaving one plagued Soivodaby or Palatinate to another with greater stability or opportunity. Serviced with little love by their fellow countrymen, the Sczarni naturally learned to live through opportunity and by their wits or guile.
As Lucius grew older he became deeply taken with a woman from Lozeri. It was not easy to leave behind his family, but the reputation of their bloodline was less difficult to let go of.
Working the dangerous farmland with his lover for three years, Rye grew a greater understanding of the capricious nature of the nobility and the labourous pleasures of his own profession. Coming home from the fields one evening, he returned to their cottage to find his wife Samanthya murdered by what appeared to be the jaws of some savage beast, but when an autopsy was performed by a local priest it was revealed she died from strangulation prior to the goring. He was heartbroken, vowing to hunt down the true murderer and avenge his lover's senseless death.

Combining both the skills and tools of the common farmer with that of an honorless gypsy, the man known as Lucius burned his old life, giving himself the title Kitsune. He became an assassin reputed for taking contracts of intrigue, with a quiet agenda of tracking information about the gruesome murder at that cottage. His vengeance was short lived however as upon rescuing a stranded traveler by the name of Opat one night, the final outlaw he silenced covered Kitsune's sight in acid, burning away the greater part of his vision. Now day by day even the shadows of sight lessen into darkness as Kitsune Rye marks such irony by walking blindly to the funeral of the man he saved that ominous night before turning towards Sandpoint.

Roleplay Sample:

Wrapped in the burlap cloak of a mourner, a shadow flickers into the light. It taps a cherry wood cane and grasps the air towards the bereaved. Under a silhouette of sepia stands a sharply cut human, his eyes close while both hands warm the widow's own.

"I will bear the casket if you would but lead me to it's furthest corner." This new voice sounds hollow; young but echoing from below unseen depths, as if confidence when surfaces reveals new frailty. The musk of incense and the sensation of his quiet retreating grasp enters comfort zones like a splinter. This man sniffs to inhale the value of perfume then wipes his nose, wandering candidly under the hood of the garment. Something does not seem right, for his weakness is nearly imperceptibly uncomfortable. Perhaps he is lying. Perhaps his faults reflects onto the viewer's own. It doesn't matter.
The figure grasps the rear of the wooden box. "Thank-you...." Every ounce of air around him tastes stale like dust mixed with ash, yet as he wets his palette it triggers the twin effect in the nearest onlooker.