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Nickname(s): Kalin, Midnight's Prince
Age: Early twenties
Gender: Male
Race: Hylian/Human/Equivalent
Original: Yes
Physical Description: Kalin stands around 6'3", and has a sleek and lean, but strongly defined, athlete's build. He has black hair hanging partway down his neck, coupled with fair skin and bright, piercing blue eyes. On the front of his torso, towards the left side, he has a large tattoo consisting of tapered spikes that curve into the hazy shape of a scythe. A few strands of the upper part of the tattoo fray from the main design and extend partway across his chest and upwards to just beneath his collar bones, tapering at the end. From the waistline down, all the spikes making up the image converge into one large spike, tapering halfway down his left thigh.
Strengths: Having the body of an adept athlete, Kalin is a fast runner who can run for long distances. He possesses suberp swordsmanship and is swift in his movements.
Weaknesses: The build of an athlete is not that of a warrior. Kalin is not as strong as most swordsmen would be, and is thus guaranteed to come off second best in a match of strength. He must rely on his speed for success, which means if he is cornered, he's screwed. He possesses no magic skills whatsoever, nor does he have any special resistance to magic or supernatural skills.
Brief Background information: It was during a dark and heavy storm that Kalin awoke, battered, bruised, and covered in blood. His shirt was missing, his pants were torn, and he was barefoot. A throbbing pain pulsed behind his left eye and after gingerly touching a hand to the side of his head - causing a red flush of stars to explode inside his brain - Kalin found that his head was covered in painful lumps. Most of the blood was caked to his skin, meaning the wounds had been inflicted before the heavy down-pour. After attempting to stand, and unleashing a confounding wave of pain upon his entire body, Kalin simply lay on his back, breathing heavily, letting the raindrops hammer him from the skies. Beneath the pounding of the rain, Kalin could hear the sound of water colliding against something solid to his left. The night was pitch-black so he was unable to see anything except during bouts of lightning flashes. In the quick instances of light, he was able to take in the scene before him. He was laying atop a cliff, an unknown, swelling ocean stretching out to the horizon; the noise he had heard was waves crashing on the rocks below.
Kalin closed his eyes and searched his mind, attempting to bring as many memories as possible to the surface. The first that came was his name: Kalin du Sang. This was followed by the memory that he was supposed to be a noble, hence the particule in his name, but for some reason he was not; he was denied nobility. Frustratingly, he couldn't remember why this had happened. He did know however that Sang was not his family name, as it meant "blood" in his language. Kalin of the Blood. A bloodline, but whose? He also had a nickname of sorts; Midnight's Prince. Where it came from, he couldn't conjure, but he had the feeling it was to do with his abilities. The thing is, however, he couldn't remember what his abilities were. Gritting his teeth, the young man sat up, ignoring the pulsing of pain through his body, and looked around. After a flash of lightning, something caught in the corner of his eye. Kalin turned his head and waited for the next lighting strike to make an appearance. There, it flashed again. What looked like a sword, a rapier from the looks of it, lay a few metres behind him. He grunted as he rolled over and pulled himself along on his belly towards the weapon. Gripping the hilt of the sword, Kalin found the weight and the feel of the blade familiar. It was his weapon, he was certain of that. This perhaps had something to do with the name "Midnight's Prince". Lying next to the rapier was a smaller weapon. It was a large dagger with a design to match the larger sword. This must have been the secondary main gauche. How Kalin knew this, he could not say, but he did know both blades were his.
Unable to do much due to his severe injuries, Kalin collapsed onto his back and lay there in the storm to wait until morning, fondling the hilt of his new, yet familiar rapier...
(This next part is not required I guess, although feel free to add anything like it.)
Additional Background Information: Kalin's normal clothing usually consists of a white blouse, navy-blue vest, dark-brown pants, dark-brown calf-length foldtop boots, and brown suede gloves. Over this he will often wear a brighter-blue, full-length coat, flaring at the waist.
Later on in his tale, Kalin comes across a silver chain with an empty silver locket that he discovers has great significance to him. The only two weapons Kalin uses are his rapier, and its counterpart, the main gauche.
Kalin has few memories. He knows that he has killed before, but he knows not the reasons. For the moment he is more under the constitution of good morals than anything else.
He is a cautious man, but he doesn't let it show. He knows no one, therefore trusts no one. He has the ability to be extremely friendly, or completely solitary; this is contextual as it is usually dependant upon the situation with which he is facing. He is usually rather easy going, but constantly has his eyes on everyone around him. He is tactical, cunning, and calculating.
With fighting being the only thing he knows how to do well, Kalin hires himself out as a mercenary/guard for traveling coaches, carts, or people. He enjoys a drink like any other man, but his "free time" he would prefer to spend searching for his past, which is what he does all the time, thus negating any "free" time.
Edited by Lazurukeel, 19 December 2006 - 11:42 AM.
