Description
Grant wore a kind face, graced by his profound God and charming when it needed to be. He kept those sandy brows structured and well-put, bright blue eyes captivating and controlling; confessing of secret deceits. His hair was a tattered blond, wore long at his head, but no further than his chin in length. His shoulder were broad and often covered by a fine black wool coat, kept pristine and orderly. His coat covered his more priestly garbs, those no different of any Catholic priest outside of sermon, but he usually kept covered down to about his knees, where he wore slacks and brightly shined dress-shoes. He was often very sincere looking, stoic or serious. He grinned and laughed when appropriate, but there was a natural desperation about him that he didn't often let others onto.
Personality
Grant remains mostly a mystery. He's a priest and sworn of his God, doing his bidding more often than not. From his small quarter and established confessional, sounds could be heard appropriate and otherwise. He bore a poetic tongue, craving the opportunity to speak in captivating riddle when possible, to paint a picture abstract and interpretable. He didn't seem to take lightly to disturbances, but he always found room for those seeking God's advice. Something, though, always seemed amiss with the Priest. His seclusion, his whispering that may have been heard while in his private quarters and alone. His history, somewhat a rumor, would speak of a daughter and wife long lost for causes unexplained. He keeps his personal life mostly to himself, and most inquiries to it have sparked a dangerous rage, unusual of those in his occupation.
Equipment
Grant wore the garments of a Catholic Priest, black jacket with black slacks and shoes. A white square sat at his shoulder and a long chain with a cross pendant hung to about his neck. Certain days he would walk with a cane, though it didn't seem to serve any purpose, as he walks fine without it. A top hat was usually at his head outside and kept under his arm while inside or coming inside. A chain hung from his belt to his back pocket, and those that knew him understood it held to a small pocket watch, which he favored greatly.
History
Grant's history is mostly a mystery. He claims to be a Priest transferred to this region on grounds of religious mission. His private life is kept just that; private. Few inquiries into his history have resulted in a less-than-warm response and for it, most have left it alone.
So begins...
Upon the notice of her arrival Amena awaited for the servant to help her from the Chariot. Ever so swiftly the chariot door opened and a rather tall individual with stunning blonde hair and blue eyes stood with his palm stretched out to her as he bowed awaiting her approval. Smirking Amena gracefully touched his palm as she slowly removed herself from the carriage and onto the walkway.
"Thank you, kind sir. What is your name?" said Amena in a voice that was rather faint.
"Err William, Lady Ambrose. William Shire" replied the servant as he gently wrapped his arm around hers and led her to the masquerade.
He wore a black suit with a red bow near his collar, his blonde hair was slicked back and hanging from his pocket was his masquerade mask. Although he was a servant, no doubt to whomever was throwing the gathering he was a rather well kept and charming young man.
"Well, William Shire. I thank you for your chivalry. It is not usual that I am embraced by a man with experience within his field and for that I thank you again." Gently removing her arm from his, Amena held her swan mask above her face and walked into the entrance where she was greeted by another servant whom offered wine to which she could not simply deny.
There was a crowd gathered around the center of the floor, laughter was heard through the air as the women danced with the men. Some were cautious of their surroundings while others were not far from engaging in sexual acts within that very moment. She couldn't help but smile, it would be a pleasant evening and she would make sure of it.