Gender: Female
Nickname(s): Keth, Kit, sometimes Kethy
Age: 17
Appearance: Crowned with a mane of fire-red hair that falls to mid-back, Kethyrian carries herself with dignity and pride. It would be an easy mistake to say that this is because sheâs a princess and marks her nobility; the truth of the matter is that Kethy never really considered herself much of one until she was the only one left. Closer inspection will reveal that her confidence has a lot to do with the way her almond-shaped, cat-green eyes tend to soak in all the information they can in any location and from any person. Sheâs always observing, always strategizing, and it would seem from the way she holds herself that she usually knows how to handle it all.
Rather than the gowns and finery expected of the heir, Kethy was usually left to do basically whatever she pleased. She had more brothers and sisters than the kingdom would ever need, so she spent her time where she chose to, and her wardrobe reflects it. The leather armors and linens she wears are of good make, and in the royal blue-and-white, but thatâs about where the evidence of her parentage ends. Otherwise, itâs equipment clearly made for a day training with the guard or about the town, passing under the radar of any who would recognize her fine-boned face and entirely unknown to the rest, anyway.
Sheâs also visibly armed, and her tendency to withdraw her poniard and flip it in the air idly is perhaps evidence that she knows how to use those weapons of hers.
Her complexion is naturally pale, though she does evidently see some sun, if the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose or along her arms is anything to go by.
Height: 5â7â
Weight: 135lbs, give or take. More when in armor, obviously.
Body build: Keth is what most people would describe as svelte, trim, or slender with decent musculature. Also feminine in figure, with the classic hourglass shape, though admittedly not voluptuous by anyoneâs standard.
Since there were so many children in her family, and she the youngest and least-important among them, nobody really thought to keep too much track of her in her youth, and itâs no accident that she was practically raised down in the guard barracks when she wasnât attending lessons. From the men there, she learned battle strategy, tales of valor from ancient times, and even how to wield a sword. In her case, the weapon is a flamberge-style rapier, in tandem with a parrying dagger, or poniard. The weapons are ideal for someone without as much outright strength as the average soldier, which made them suited for a woman.
Keth also has a talent for healing magic, though of course this is only minimally useful, given the amount of time and concentration it takes. The method is highly impractical for anything but major injuries that canât be treated some other way or left to heal on their own.
As far as diplomacy goes, sheâs had all the lessons and grown adept at reading people, but her lack of patience doesnât serve her very well. Sheâd much rather just tell a stubborn bureaucrat where to stick his pride (hint: it isnât very polite) and get on with it. Delicate negotiations, while possible in theory, are certainly not her forte, as she doesnât suffer fools lightly. Kethy tends to like people who share these blunter qualities, but she can respect all kinds, as long as they earn it somehow.
She absolutely despises being addressed with any of her titles, and prefers to lead as wisely as possible, taking advice from people who know what theyâre talking about rather than simply assuming she knows best.
Likes: Spicy food, honest people, dry/dark humor, soldiers or people who earn their way by the strength of their arms, good stories, fighting, dancing.
Dislikes: Pigeons, the color yellow, courtspeak, deception, most nobility, and anyone whose loyalty must be bought.
Hobbies: Combat, reading, flute-playing, people-watching, and occasionally drinking. Okay, maybe often drinking, but only with the right people.
Phobia(s): Thereâs not a lot that will turn Kethy into a mushy ball of coward-goo, but whatever the reason, she really hates dogs. Horses are fine, cats are fine, hunting birds are fine. But dogs are another story all together.
Skills: Close-quarters combat, healing, riding, people-reading, combat tactics, holding her liquor (if thatâs actually a skill, anyway).
Former Profession: Well, there was that whole âlast surviving heirâ thing, but whoâs keeping track?
Personal History: Her parents had the heir, the spare, and several others too, so it was hardly surprising that nobody had much time for Princess Kethyrian. Not that she was neglected or anything, she just wasnât terribly important to anybody. Which was actually quite fine by her: it meant none expended too much effort telling her what she should be, or worse, what she shouldnât.
This left her more or less free to shape herself, and she didnât really spare anyone willing to teach her anything the trouble. Inspired by old tales of heroic, witty adventurers, she learned to fight, to command in battle, to duel, to write, and a bit of music, just for the sake of variety. It was a charmed life, really, for though she gained exposure to the skills and the lifestyle of a soldier, she still never had to see actual battle, nor to kill anyone or risk being killed herself.
It is a fact that has left her unprepared for the situation at hand, though not nearly as badly as she could be, had she chosen more conventional hobbies as a child.
Other: N/A at the moment.