Description
Black hair that runs down to his shoulders in a rather unruly fashion. His eyes are a dark brown colour, and he has a muscular but fairly skinny build.
Kento's normal clothing generally is a roughspun shirt with an open neck, that is useful for when he is working in the hot conditions of a forge. He wears dark, durable trousers and shoes.
Alias: None
Age: 22
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 190 lb.
Race: Human
Personality
Although naturally light-hearted and prone to seeing the humour in a situation, Kento is also very quick to become serious when the situation calls for it. He has morals which leaves him disliking killing, and he will not kill an innocent, however if innocent lives are threatened or the person in question it truly evil, he will not hesitate in ending their lives.
Despite being a Blacksmith, Kento is possessed by a feeling of wanderlust; The blacksmith can satisfy this somewhat by moving his forge from city to city, but the only thing that seems to satisfy the young as much as a finely-crafted blade cooling in his hands, is the sight of a new land stretching out before him.
Equipment
Kento has a decent set of blacksmithing tools, and the smallest of these tools is kept in a pouch at his waist instead of at his forge, although the tools that he has are only enough for small repairs.
If he expects trouble, Kento has set aside a set of armour for his personal use - it glints a metallic green in the sunlight, and although well built, it is heavy for him to wear still. Despite the full-plate style of the armour, it has been designed rather craftily by the man to be easy to take off and put on, the full armour only requiring 4 or 5 minutes if he hurries, and can be done on his own. Though the armour is good at deflecting most average physical attacks, it has no magical properties and therefore offers very little defense against a magical assault.
As a weapon, Kento wields a long, thin blade that he himself made -and personally considers his best work. The metal he used to forge it required nearly a year's earning to afford just enough for his own sword, and after days without rest or food, keeping the metal hot and layering the blade to make it ever-sharper, he created a sword that any general or duke would be proud to wear. It's metal seems to shine slightly, but like his armour boasts no magical properties. Despite this, it can cut into a boulder without chipping or denting due to it's own hardness and sharpness.
Kento keeps the blade inside of a plain, leathe sheathe, both because he can afford little better and to ward off potential thieves.
History
Kento worked as a helper for his blacksmith father when he was a child, and learned many things from him, the older man a respected blacksmith in the city that they lived in. When he was 15 however, a sickness swept through the town, killing many including his parents. Leaving his home behind, Kento eventually found his way to an old man who was formerly a soldier, until the loss of his leg forced a career change to that of a scribe. The old man taught Kento to read and write, and housed him. Eventually Kento was taught the basics of swordplay as well, and upon the death of the scholar, Kento used the money entrusted to him by the man to found his own smithy. - and he has become skillful enough through hard work in both swordsmanship and as a blacksmith to carry some small amount of renown in the area that he travels to.
So begins...
Kento stepped in, glancing around at the others, his spirit mask covering his features. Hand drifting across his waist to the long sword sheathed there, his eyes took in the others in this arena, gauging their apparent strengths.
Kento Watched as the combatants engaged one another.. The swordsman couldn't say that he was displeased about being ignored. Taking a moment, he idly kicked a small stone that lay on the edge of the cliff, watching as it fell to the ground below. "Huh" He muttered.. and his eye was suddenly drawn to the single Blob that hadn't engaged anyone, and was moving to the center of the Arena... perhaps he should stop.. whatever that thing was? Drawing his long blade, he hurried towards the creature in question, glancing at Epistos and one of the blob copies as he passed within a few metres of them, to make sure that he wasn't drawn into the fray as well.
Kento jumped out of surprise, startled as bright red lights flashed past his ear and stabbed into the ever-growing blob... what in the gods were those things? Turning towards the source of the lights, he saw one of others in the Arena get hit by small pieces of another blob... His immediate reaction to go and help was quelled, however, by the blob that was near him, as well as what his mask had seen when it had looked at that man's spirit ... No emotion whatsover, not so much as a flicker. It had made him shudder when he first noticed it, and it stayed his hand now.
Kento was surprised at the speed of the bolts, the swordsman threw himself to his left side to try to roll out of the way.. still holding his momentum as he stood, he was surprised when his armoured body slammed into an obstacle.. - a man? Kento's shoulder hit Epsitos' chest, knocking the swordsman stumbling before he hit the ground.. his body lay less than a foot from one of the many cliffs - though miraculously his mask had stayed strapped on and his sword had stayed in-hand. Breathing hard, Kento struggled to get back up, all-to-aware of the constant threats still nearby.
Kento Looked around, surprised .. was he the only one who -couldn't- teleport in some manner? Alarmed, he saw the mass of blobs that now lay everywhere around him.. and suddenly had an idea. smiling through his mask, the man suddenly took off as quickly as his armour and bruises would allow, towards the outside edge of the arena.. towards the small control box that he'd seen one of the others use to manipulate the arena
Kento entered the bar quietly, the eyes through his mask drifting around the room. - The bar itself was rather solid-looking and plain, although the many wooden chairs and tables that filled up the space were noticeably inexpensive... The swordsman suspected this was to more easily replace them if a fight broke out. Despite this, The bar managed to give an air of relaxation, and the man made his way to the barkeep, sitting on one of the stools that lined the bar and hearing his armour give a small noise of protest. "Just a water, if you please."
Kento looked across at the only other occupant of the bar. Resisting the immediate temptation to use his Guise and see into this man's soul, Kento instead closed his eyes, reaching up and taking his mask off - a feat which was getting harder and harder to do each day. Opening his eyes, he regarded the other man... He was bigger than the former blacksmith - Louder too. "Hard day, my friend?" His voice was quiet, the ending of his sentence punctuated by him taking a long drink from the water that was just passes across to him.
Kento "Mm, older than you think, I believe." The swordsman looked around, surprised at the number of people now filtering into the bar or otherwise making themselves known.. he wasn't used to this large of a crowd - and the urge to replace the mask onto his face was nearly overwhelming. The mask meant security, safety... He quelled his immediate feelings with another drink of the water. The green-armoured man tried again. No point in denying civility, as brash as this other man seemed. "Are you a soldier of fortune? It takes a strong arm to wield a blade like that, but I see no markings of a soldier on you."
Kento suddenly felt overwhelmed, feeling naked without his mask immediately on. Placing the cool Guise back onto his face, he closed his eyes and stood. "I have to go..." He needed more practice before he could bear being in such a crowded room. Quickly, the swordsman made his way from the bar, stepping into the sunlight and away from the crowd
Quickpaw Hurojo awakes after having been asleep for several years. Around the area was only void. It was empty. Dark. Cold. "Where... where have the spirits placed me?" He started patting his body all over; ensuring that he was corporeal. "Not dead; that's a plus." Though there was no time to lose. If he was corporeal, that likely means that he could return to the world he knew, and hopefully return to his king. He began running, hoping to find an exit to this ethereal obscurity.
Sibael Rhodwyn looked around, finally staring one of the strangers in the face, "I don't remember you. Any of you, to be frank."
RPG
