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Appearance: At first glance Khale looks like a western scoundrel, a lowlife drifter from the slums outside of Bayornn city. His clothes are aged and dusty and worn from his travels, his apparel is typical of the fashion worn by desert dwellers - earth tone hooded coat, pants and shirt, bandana, wraps for gloves, and boots - including a face mask and respirator.

Underneath his shrouded outer shell, and at closer inspection lies a guileful man desperate to find his place in the world. Even underneath the tough guy act, chiseled face, and the soft ash-color-eyes, one can see a lonesome man looking back.

Khale is not a man who cares about his appearance, he rarely combs or cuts his curly locks, other than the occasional shave he keeps a trim beard and mustache. He stands tall at six-foot-one, and his solid, compact physical frame can only be attributed to the hard work and the harsh environment of his upbringing.

His body is a canvas of tattoos and scars of his life’s journey. His tattoos are symbols of the hearts he’s broken, and the scars are records of his troubled life. Most notably is the scar on his left temple, a reminder of the betrayal that nearly claimed his life.

Khale doesn’t have much to claim except his secrets, the little possessions, trinkets and gadgets, and momentums he deems valuable. A dump pouch for his travels, a small telescope, a flashlight, some cable rope, a pocket blade, and a gun - which he cleverly ensconced inside his gear. But his most valuable possession is the necklace of beads around his neck. He is often seen touching them if only to remind himself that he still has it.

Abilities: Stormphrax pirate. Not the most noble profession but the most profitable. Stealing is not only a means for him but also an art he has gainfully mastered for his own survival. He is gifted with a silver tongue, putting on his charm and a front as a Stormphrax Merchant, he hackles and fools unsuspecting victims for his own benefit - and that is the ethics by which he lives, profit and survival. A code that has gain him more enemies than friends.

He can read and write and is somewhat of a copycat chemist, able to convert phraxdust for a number of useful things ranging from purifying water to energy. He gain some knowledge as a meteorologist and though has no official education as a field scientist he can pass for one thanks to the skills he acquired during his time as a storm hunter. He can read weather maps and analyze meteorological patterns that lead to hazardous weather and track their movement within a limited time frame. He is familiar with the various equipments and techniques used to forecast the weather.

He knows how to use a gun, more importantly he knows how to kill. He’s a fairly good fighter though not the most fair. When it comes to defending his own life anything goes, including an unsuspecting knife to the back, or even a welling of tears if he needs to. Additionally he has basic nursing skills that he gained during his short time in the brotherhood. Though he lacks the caring bedside manner that usually comes with the profession, nevertheless, playing nurse isn’t something he cares to do.

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History: Like most man of his age Khael was drafted when he was nothing but a wet spit of a boy. He fought for Laudasburg and the western alliance, there he received basic training, which did very little in preparing him for the actual war. It was during the war that he becomes the worst of himself. He killed indiscriminately, he raped, he pillaged, and did all the horrible things boys in war do when they have no hopes to live.

For Khale death seems to always be hiding behind his own shadow. He’s been hunted, beaten, shot at, stabbed, and has suffered all the tribulations that come with war. Yet by some miracle or divine purpose, or simple fools luck, he survived it all. He was nearly killed in active duty and soon after honorably discharged, though his record states he is physically and psychologically incapable of performing assigned duties.

After the war spat him out like a worthless sick dog he tried his best to become a righteous man. To shed like a snake the life of a soldier, to grow new skin and become a new man with the hopes and worries of a civilian. For a short time he did, though he could never shake away the nightmares and the memories of war, at least not for very long, guilt, regret, even remorse for the atrocities he committed were always a constant headache.

Out of his quest for forgiveness rather than a true calling he joined a priesthood. The Brothers of Hawkthorn, they specialized in caring for those suffering from terminal phraxiosis. In the brotherhood he gain some basic nursing skills, but he dislike caring for the sick. Instead he worked in the kitchen preparing meals and cleaning the facilities. During his time in the priesthood he found some peace of mind through meditation. He learned to forget the past by focusing on the future.

But no matter how many times a snake sheds its skin it will always be a snake. Khale was not a man of worship and he never completely committed to celibacy. During his outings for supplies he would visit the brothels and bars, he would bed woman and satisfied his needs, and he would drink or gamble away the money entrusted to him. Too often he’d go back empty claiming he had been robbed. Eventually he was no longer trusted by his superiors, which resulted in his expulsion from the order. A decision Khale was ready to accept since he had already decided the priesthood was not the life for him.


Out in the world again he did what he could to survive, doing all sorts of odd jobs some not quite legal. Along the way he met Star, the man that would change his life forever. They formed a bond that went beyond a simple friendship, brotherly love is what they called it, though the love they held for one another could be easily mistaken for something much stronger.

Star was a stormphrax pirate, a meteorologist, who made his living selling phraxdust to rebels in Kidre. Star took Khale under his wing, teaching him all he knew about meteorology, storm hunting, and how to process stormphrax to create phraxdust. Khale absorbed it all like a sponge. And for a long time the two shared everything, the stormphrax they collected, the profits they made, and even the woman they bed.

And it was a woman that came between them. A woman whose wiles ways seduced them both and turn them against each other. But it was Star’s betrayal that broke his heart. Khale had never felt such betrayal, it enraged him, and brought back that monster from the war he so desperately worked to forget. Their feuds over the business they had became an all out war, fighting over stormphrax, stealing each others clients, and finally stealing eachothers merchandise.

Khale planned his revenge, bid his time and waited for the right moment and sometime in the past year he stoled 10 barrels of Star’s processed phraxdust and hid them away. Now he runs from the past, hiding from the man he thought was his brother in blood and love. Waiting for time to heal fresh wounds. He traveled south to Moljin, near the Iskadale border, with the intentions of finding a buyer for his stolen goods.

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Loyalty: Khale has no loyalties but to himself. He fought in the war when he was a child, for a cause he didn’t believed in, and as a result he has become this vagabond with no purpose or real goals other than to survive what is left.

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Personality: Khale has been many different versions of himself through his journey. He’s been a soldier, a brother, a lover, a pirate, a thief, and along the way the one true factor that he can count on is his resolve - he has adopted a survivors mentality, living day to day like is his last. Accepting the madness of his choices without care or remorse.

He’s an adrenaline junky. Having been at the threshold of death more than once he is starting to believe he’s truly blessed with luck. Occasionally taking risks just to test how far he can ride on the back of old dumb luck. But rarely relies on impulse, preferring to think carefully before he acts, his actions always are to his benefit.

He is nothing but a man of the times he lives. He likes fighting and could care less if he takes another's life to save his own. He is not a hero nor does he want to be. He’ll take the clothes of your back if he knows he can get away with it. And he won’t think twice to put anothers life in danger if it means saving his own.

He is not an open book, and chooses to keep his past to himself. Friends he has few and those are mostly poor fools indebted to him in some way or other. Enemies he has plenty, especially storm hunters and stormphrax pirates from the deserts of Rions.

He has given up on love, though one can never tell when love will strike its sweet poison, he is not out to be its victim again. Yet he will built castles in the sky for beautiful woman and treat them like princess, but once he's had his fill of them he will leave them just the same.

There is a saying that you cannot teach a dog new tricks, while that may be true, even the wildest dog won’t bite the hand that feeds them. Strangely enough this is how Khale works. To win Khales loyalty all one need is to protect him even from himself, but if you betray him he will strike you like a cornered snake, quick and deadly.

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Family: His father Kio, was a migrant from the mines of Soache. He came to Laudasburg in hopes of a better life. Shortly after his arrival he found work as the groundsman for one of Bayoon’s wealthiest families. It was there he met Yuma, the spoiled brat of the house. Their story is the typical boy meets girl, father hates boy, boy runs away with girl story, but a love story nonetheless.

Runaways in love did as runaways in love do, they copulated, and in two years Yuma had given birth to two healthy boys, Krom and Khale, and had one more growing in her belly. When the littleone was born, Bo, she had complications and six months later she was dead.

The wealthy grandparents refused to help Kio, but their cold hearts could not resist little Bo, and so they took him to raise him. Kio had no choice but to raise his two other boys, but he lacked the nurturing care little boys need at such a young age. He expected them to be man, and treated them as man. Sometimes in brutal ways that only damaged their relationships. As a result Kio was not always around, work and woman kept him away for days. So, Krom and Khale grew up practically on their own, nurtured by the streets of the slums, and destined to be claimed by the slum’s gang way of life.

Krom was the oldest, and he grew up to be a mean son of a bitch like his father. Often forcing Khale to steal and beg beachgoers along the shores of the Island Sea. By the time Khale was eleven he knew how to fool a woman to give him food, clothes, and money. Eventually they saw less and less of their father, who was busy making more babies in other parts.

Krom and Khale got themselves into all sorts of troubles, and then one day, when Khale was 14, Krom disappeared and was never seen again. Literally on his own Khale survived by doing the only thing he knew, stealing and seducing lonely woman and man, offering his body in exchange for a hot meal, a roof over his head, and money.

When the war begun Khale was 17 years of age. He was drafted, literally of the streets. He knows nothing about the fate of his father or brothers and can only assume they are all dead. Indifferent, he could care less if they still live. He made up his mind long ago that he only needs himself to live in the cruel world that has become his existent.