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"My name's Kiske. Clown first, surgeon second. Freelance magician somewhere in between.

"Boredom, plain and simple. I had lots of it, and your cause offers less of it."
[B A S I C S]
Nicknames: Blue Bloodletter Kiske.
Gender: Male.
Age: 30.
Race: Human.
Origin: Airedale.
Voice:Typically high pitched, and a bit whimsical.
Class: Mage.
Offensive/Defensive: Offensive.
Magical Affinity: High.
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[A P P E A R A N C E]
Hair: Kiske has red auburn hair, it's a family trait which has been passed down. He loves it! Wouldn't trade his frumpy locks for the world.
Eyes: His eyes are deep set, though it's hard to notice behind a fortress of makeup. The color is unmistakably dull green, with a set stare that has seen plenty of death.
Complexion: He's honestly a bit pasty. Kiske doesn't care too much about his "natural beauty," insisting everything and anything can be fixed by adding more powder.
Height: 6 foot. He's tall for a human, but so are most in his family.
Build: Kiske has the build of someone who was sentenced to life in a damnable prison. He's muscular, although it was mostly for show, and to keep others off his back in the pen.
Weight: Somewhere close to 180 pounds.
Body Markings: Enough make-up to make a princesses seem like common swine.
[P H Y S I C A L L Y ]
The circus is in town! Or would be, if there were any make-up left! Kiske can be easily spotted from a mile away. His bright red hair and flushed face, which would normally make any person stand out in a crowd, are completely overshadowed by the fact that this human likes to be noticed. Clowns are a popular profession for those seeking attention from nobles, and it's easy to see where Kiske's comically over-application of cosmetics comes from. Kiske typically starts with a white base, which completely seals off his natural complexion. If it weren't for times spent bathing, this would never be removed, and as elves are the sole practitioners of tattoos, Kiske can't get it stuck on permanently. While the garish makeup is the first thing that people notice, it is not the last.
Kiske's wardrobe looks like an art student had given up on the design halfway through. Sure, some things match, but it's largely lost by Kiske's fascination with hot pink. In short, just looking at Kiske is enough to give most people a migraine. This isn't remotely helped by the rather large smile which crowns the clown's face. It hangs there, just beneath the tip of his nose, in the most obnoxious and annoying way a man can smile. It mocks anyone and anything that is within walking distance, begging for a nice slug in the face. However, it is a clean face, and a clean body for that matter. Kiske enjoys bathing. He never smells of anything other than that annoying Byda perfume, and his nails are always short and crisp. His teeth are perfectly white, evidenced by the lack of contrast between they and his pearly countenance. Perhaps enviably, he stands out even among other clowns.
Strangely enough, for a mage Kiske doesn't seem to carry anything magical on him. He holds neither wand nor staff, and many would probably assume he's a hapless jester who walked onto the wrong battlefield. A warrior would know differently. He stands proud, his waist rail thin but certainly muscular; it's the kind of muscles people develop when they're used to carrying their body in delicate situations. He possesses grace with each step, and his movements have a flow of calmness to them not found in a civilian. Sure! Some see the clown paint and get the heebie-jeebies, but a true warrior sees something different that gives them the chills: his body language. Kiske carries himself as if nothing in the world could touch him, as if he were immortal. Neither fear nor hesitation are present in his step, and there are times that some would find this disconcerting.
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MENTALITY
Ever have that guy who gets on your nerves all the time just by existing? That's Kiske. There's just something weird about him, aside from his appearance of choice. Kiske has a rather untrustworthy nature, apparently at the wrong place at the wrong time all too frequently. Fights occur around him more than they should, and if he were in a bar, he'd be the center of attention while the entire place devolved into chaos. Again, weird. What's also bizarre is the fact that he seeks this like the queen bee in school; Kiske loves drama, chaos, and more specifically, Kiske loves a challenge. Raised by a noble family that wanted the world in their hands, Kiske gained his father's rather severe sense of drive. It's as if he weighs two choices in his head, and always picks whichever one is more difficult to manage.

Kiske also is commonly seen around dead things. He doesn't much care for gore, or splatters, or guts; just the dead. Their calm, tranquil state would stand at complete juxtaposition to the madman with his gaudy smile and beaming eyes. If anyone wanted to make him happy, they'd probably just have to bring him some recently dead flowers and he'd be chipper as a woodpecker. The man also loves flirting in addition to his instigations. Male, female, whatever genders orcs happen to be; he'll flirt with them and make them redder than his rosy cheeks.
Friends? Kiske doesn't have them, and probably won't get many. It isn't as if he actively discourages them, or is too broody or moody for them, or anything silly like that. Simply, most folk don't prefer the company of a perceived loon. But that's just the thing! Kiske is far from crazy! He's intelligent, quick on the uptake, and composed. Sure, most people wouldn't walk around town with a "punch-me" sign glued to their faces and call themselves sane, but he does because he's a rampant narcissist. Kiske also prefers to "baby talk" once in a while. He finds making words more fun makes his life more fun. He'll probably never stop, much to the dismay of everyone around him.
[F E A R S]
There aren't many things that terrify this man, but bats are one of them. They're disease carrying rodents that fly, bump into you, and bite you. Fucking freaky.
[Q U I R K S]
- Juggler: If there are three or more of any alike object, Kiske will juggle involuntarily. This is a skill most certainly beat into him by the head clown at the royal palace. Oftentimes, the clown will not realize he is doing it.
- Makeup Addicted: Kiske must have perfect makeup at nearly all times of the day. He will stop in the middle of battle to reapply it if he must.
- The not so killing joke: Surprisingly enough, Kiske isn't very good at telling jokes. He's pretty awful with the delivery, and while he might be humorous to some naturally, he's no master of punchlines.
- Slight of hand Any good magician knows slight of hand. Kiske's natural grace and fluid movements make him an expert at tricking the eyes into falling for old parlor tricks.
[E T H I C | V A L U E S]
Slay all those who stand in his way, befriend everyone else.
[A G E N D A]
Entertainment. Getting out of jail was up there, too, until recently.
[L I K E S]
- MOTHERFUCKING TOYS AND SHIT! Ever seen a child in a toy store? Ever seen a full grown man, dressed in full clown attire, eerily peering through a toymaker's window, maximizing the view and staring longingly?
- Kiske is an entertainer at heart. He involves himself heavily in pranks and slapstick comedy on a regular basis. The problem usually arises that the clown never seems to tell his audience in advance that they're going to be part of his stints. He finds this hilarious.
- Believe it or not Kiske is a Kirill, and as a Kirill he is incredibly knowledgeable. How'd he get that way? Books of course. Kiske collects books to a fault. As his story goes on, he might get exhausted from all the books he collects. However, he normally is fine just browsing them. This trait does come in handy though, because Kiske can read, he can also understand maps, and typically knows answers to problems which a layman would not.
- Shoes. Most importantly, princess shoes. Those curly, dainty, silk, impractical shoes are Kiske's favorite. And, as they're impractical, princess shoes tend to wear down quicker than a sturdy pair of boots. This causes Kiske to procure more shoes, and leads to an endless cycle of
shopliftingpurchasing all of his fine footwear.
[D I S L I K E S]
- Dull knives. You know the sound--nails on a chalkboard? That's a dull knife to the clown. A dull knife as useless as it is grating. The way it can't cut shoestrings, the way it fails to open a package from the post. It's irritating, and it makes life so damn hard. Kiske will cry about this. Big crocodile tears.
- Frail things. Strong things. See a pot, break a pot. See a strong thing making life too easy, break a strong thing making life too easy. Basically if you're on either end of the spectrum, there's a fair chance that Kiske hates you. Kiske likes to live life on the edge, it gives him a satisfying rush. That sort of thing can't happen if he's too busy babysitting or getting his hand held. "Well, what about frail objects?" you might ask. Kiske will always have a sense of loathing for them.
- The skin on fruits. Living in the lap of luxury means that Kiske has never (and will never!) peel his own fruit. Unfortunately, this also means that Kiske refuses to eat fruit with the skin on them. It just tastes so icky, ya know? So... he's probably gonna get scurvy. Sucks bro.
- Boredom. Yep. Like being eternally trapped at your mother-in-law's house.

PROWESS
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- Flexible git: [Average] - ā
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āāā Ever seen a man who can bend his body like rubber? It's an old entertaining trick: the contortionist. Kiske is incredibly flexible. This becomes rather annoying for things that try to hit him. He can bend his body in all sorts of ways, and its enough to turn a stomach just by glancing at him. Kiske finds it rather exciting to see how far he can twist his body. It's better than most, and certainly better than anything wearing heavy armor. This skill allows Kiske, who otherwise isn't exceedingly fast, to dodge techniques which are close or far rage pretty reliably.
- Spiritual sensitivity: [Poor] - ā ā āāāā His widdle secwet: Kiske is highly spiritually aware. This adds for some interesting changes in his life. First, he can see the recently deceased. He cannot talk back to them, but he can hear them. Secondly, he can sense when there is death in an area, or otherwise a gathering of spirits. Like a moth to a flame, Kiske is drawn to their presence. This means very little in battle, but he can get a sense of what ambushes might lie up ahead, or how something died by the way they appear to him.
[C L A S S | S K I L L S]
- Smoke bombs: [Poor] - ā
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āāāā Smoke and mirrors are an entertainers best friend. As such, Kiske is proficient with the former. Kiske can create incredibly potent smoke bombs which blind the eyes, sting the nose and mouth, and fill the air with the most obnoxious smoke one can witness. The smoke he typically uses is so intense it can fill entire rooms in a flash. In its undeveloped state, it is a thick powder, when plied together it becomes a perfectly round sphere, a little smaller than a ping-pong ball. When crushed or otherwise broken, it fills rooms quicker than the slash of a sword or the movement of an arrow. This powder comes as a byproduct from mining ore. It's incredibly cheap to obtain, and is found in almost every city. A canister no larger than an barrel would easily consume a town. Kiske prefers to add a few additions to his smoke bombs to make them especially obnoxious. Firstly, the smoke produced is thick pink. Secondly, he adds his favorite annoying Byda perfume. Lastly, he adds just a hint of pepper powder. This weapon can easily change the flow of battle, as the smoke hangs like a thick fog, rendering sight, smell, and taste pretty useless save for a tiny area around those inside of it. It also lasts quite a while, making escape or moving the smoke the only real options for getting rid of it.
- Muscle reading: [Average] - ā ā ā āāā A well trained eye can guess how a ball will fall from a hand, an even better trained eye will know how to catch it before it lands. This is the basic principle behind Kiske's muscle reading ability. Basically his attention to detail and the human form had come together to give him something of a predictive edge. He can utilize this with his flexibility to quickly dodge, or his knife skills to counter, or throw a well placed blade. It's a useful skill, and one learned through endless monotonous meditation and people watching.
[SPELLS | POWERS]
- Instastitch: [Competent] - ā
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āā Perhaps, Kiske should have been born a surgeon, because he certainly has the capability. Instastitch, or Crazy String, as Kiske affectionately calls it, is probably Kiske's only self-created technique. By saving up a bit of magic, Kiske can turn pure magic into a ball of string, single strands or many. From there he can use the arcane art to seal up any wound, set broken bones, reattach full limbs, and although he's never tried it, Kiske believes if he acted quickly enough he could reattach a severed head. The string can be any color, or no color if he chooses, and since it is magic it seemingly bends or outright breaks the rules of traditional medicine. With a simple cut, Kiske can force his instastitch into the hole and the skin will be bound together. This will leave no scaring of any kind, and the pain will all but vanish. For a deep tissue wound, or organ damage, Kiske can send in a heavier dose of magic which will bind all of the pieces correctly together in their place. This will fix a deep wound in around five minutes, and stop bleeding immediately. Pain will stop around the three minute mark. It's about the same for a broken bone, or crushed bone. The string goes into the body, connects the pieces, and then tightly wraps itself around the broken bits. For a severed limb, partial functionality will return within the first few minutes. Full functionality restores in around three days. Pain can be stopped within an hour or two.
But healing is only half of this skill. The other half is a bit more twisted. First, Kiske's stitching can be incredibly flexible, rigid, sharp, or soft. It can extend for as far as Kiske has magic (which is quite some distance) but is pretty useless without Kiske seeing or imagining where he put the string. Typically, he keeps it colorless, and lays it loose, attaching the ends to the tips of his fingers. When snagged, Kiske can cause tension on the line and use it to slice through armor, or create enough torque to snap limps and break shields. Kiske has also been known to sew enemies legs together, or their limbs to one another. Kiske utilizes the wire for all sorts of traps, preferring to make a battlefield a literal maze of his creation. The string can lift human weight with ease, as well as stop falling objects,or incoming baddies if there were enough strands lined closely together.
- Illusion: [Poor] - ā
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āāāā Reinforced by Kiske's natural slight of hand, Kiske's illusions rely on those he's fooling not knowing he has an illusion active, or not realizing there was more to an otherwise harmless action. His illusions can be used to make objects out of place, or hide his instastitch. Far more regularly, they're used to change the color of his garish clothes to something more unsightly. However, he can also use them to expand a smoke screen, or hide a knife in an open looking hand. While Kiske isn't as powerful as some master illusions, he's learning, and it's the craftiness of his illusions which are undeniably better than the illusions themselves. Like all illusions though, it's mostly smoke and mirrors. Kiske's illusions have some serious draw backs, for now they're limited to a single target. They can be dispelled through pain, or realizing that it's simply a parlor trick. This is mostly the reason for Kiske's craftiness and good placement of his illusions.
- That's not a knife...: [Competent] - ā
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āā Oh but it is! Kiske has trained under professional sword swallowers for years to learn this trick. By expending some of his magic, the clown can summon a knife out of thin air, or any other orifice of his body. Kiske has been known to shoot a knife out of an open wound before. So far, his knives come in one flavor: a dirk knife with a straight blade and handle, and a ring at the bottom of the pommel. The dirk is a perfect weapon for slashing and stabbing. Knives can be summoned quickly and cheaply. Normally they're used as projectile weapons, however if given a close quarters fight, Kiske will use them just as effectively.
[W E A K N E S S E S]
- Running speed: Kiske wins no medals in regards to running. His love of silk princess shoes shows, as he refuses to wear anything else. They aren't made for all terrain, and his refusal to find more adequate footwear means he's ultimately quite slow.
- Quite weak Kiske's body, while imposing, isn't all that tough. Someone used to dodging probably can't take more than a few blows. He also can't punch very hard for this same reason. His muscles were built from building roads and lifting rocks, and he has no formal combat training.
- The path of most resistance Kiske plays life on hardmode. He'll normally give the enemy a handicap if he can afford to. There's just something fulfilling about a hard fight, and Kiske likes to feel fulfilled.
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ARMAMENT
[A R M O R] None.
[C L O T H I N G] Noble clothes, dyed more colors than fine art.
[I T E M S] Smoke bombs, and a single claw-blade knife.
[T O K E N S] A perfect mirror. A wand.
(please see Character Skeleton Companion, or PM us!)
[P R I M A R Y | W E A P O N]
Weapon Name: Round-cuty.
Weapon Type: Claw-shaped dagger.
Length: Six inches.
Weight: One pound.
Origin: Kiske found that this dagger can circumvent armor, when going against bodyguards. Typically he hides the sheath and blade in the sleeve of his clothes, and will pull it out as a last resort.
[O T H E R | W E A P O N S]
Weapon Name: Smokey the Bomb (only you can prevent eye-sight!)
Weapon Type: Smoke bombs
Length: .5 inches.
Weight: .05 pound.
Origin: These are crafted daily, to ensure that he has more than necessary. They're incredibly easy to whip up, and can be made even in the heat of battle.
BACKGROUND
[M A R I T A L | S T A T U S]
Single, making Kiske a sad clown.
[F A M I L Y | T I E S]
[O C C U P A T I O N]
Clown.
[S O C I A L | R A N K]
Ranges rather drastically, but usually he's friendly enough. Still, he looks like a weirdo, which can make his presence come across as unpleasant.
[O P I N I O N S]
- Humans: Nothing wrong with humans! They have an easy anatomy, they're mighty different from one another, and they are his own.
- Elves: Pompous, unusually rich, and seem to have enemies everywhere? Sounds like Kiske's family. He has no hatred towards this race.
- Orcs: Kiske has never met an Orc. But he's also never met one he didn't like.
[R E L A T I O N S]
Besties for life! Who else could appreciate the loveable clown other than someone who hates everything?
[B I O | H I S T O R Y]

One would be hard pressed to find someone who hasn't heard of the Kirills, the large noble family of Airedale with more money and soldiers than the rest, the ones who takes what they want from other nobles, be it possessions, land, political power. And why not? The Kirills had amassed a sizable army, and enough bloodthirsty soldiers to fend off the King if they really had to. Technically, the Kirill house should be 16th in line for the throne, which makes them very powerful and very arrogant. But what youāve probably never heard is that the Kirills have a son.
Born into a life of prestige and luxury, the Kirill's only son was named Kiske. He was a smart young lad with a somewhat weak constitution, which kept him out of the public eye. This was to be expected for most nobles; living a life of luxury is something that softens the body. However, Kiske, by all accounts, was a pretty normal boy. He attended large parties, making friends with some of the nobles, and some of them had even considered marrying him into their families when he got a bit older. Kiske was polite, friendly, and most of all, well-liked. His manners were impeccable, his poise was precise, and he always was fond of making both children and adults laugh. If there was one snag in his life, it was being born a Kirill.
The Kirills were well-hated. Their family line was considered ānew moneyā by all the other noble folk, and their initial power had come through piracy, taking merchants money and goods, and killing the sailors aboard the ships. Kiskeās great-great-grandfather was apparently a hell of a pirate, as he was able to not only accrue a vast fortune, but get away with it too; settling down and become a noble in a country far away from his exploits. The trail of bodies would eventually wash up in Airedale, when the Kirills would continue the family trade on land, this time as highwaymen, still robbing merchants and nobles alike. As their wealth increased, so too did their power, eventually they had a standing army.
For the most part, the Kirills employed bandits and anyone else willing to join an unofficial army. They were put to good use, too, taking lands from noble houses. Eventually, enough gold, land, and power was attained that a contract was struck and the Kirills managed to marry into the royal family: his great-grandfather managed to wed himself to a duchess, which gave them a legitimate--albeit distant--claim to the throne of Airedale. While all of this information might seem useless to Kiske, who was several generations removed from the long deceased butchers ravaging the other noble houses, the old wounds suffered by the lords and ladies who were currently in charge still seemed very fresh. Tainting their opinions were stories told by their grandfathers about the horrible, ruthless Kirill house, and revenge was fresh on their minds. Of course, none of them could do anything about it. The Kirills had the largest army, the most money, and were known to devastate houses which tried to mount any kind of attack.
It was the Queen of Airedale who would eventually come up with a plan to humiliate the nobles. Sure, they could have executed the entire family, but for crimes long past? The peasants who the Kirills lorded over might rebel, as all things considered, the Kirills had become decent lords.
Every few years, the reigning King graces all of those with claim to the throne, no matter how distant, with a chance to make something of themselves. For some young lords and ladies, he gives them extremely good positions in the government where they have room to grow and flourish. The most coveted of these positions was the role of an adviser. Because young lords grew into these positions, it kept the nobles close, and away from fighting one another. Most nobles accept these positions in an instant, as good fortune comes to those who send their only heirs to serve the reigning king. However, the Kirills seemed to be in a bit of a bind. Their only son, Kiske, was starting to show signs of magic at the young age of eleven, and word quickly reached Rhiosia that a noble of Airedale was graced with "the gift." As with anyone gifted with magic, Rhiosia sent an offer; "Join us in our magic academies, and your son will live a life blessed with prosperity," he said. It was a tough choice. Serve the king of their nation, or send their son off to become a very powerful mage?
They chose the former. Young Kiske was off to the capital of Airedale and couldnāt have been more pleased. With the public knowledge of his magic combined with and his intelligence, he was a shoe-in for an adviser role. When he arrived, however, he found that the King and Queen had chosen a different role. Kiske was to join the circus: an interesting spectacle, a menagerie of entertainment held in the city. This was Airedaleās new and improved coliseum, an event of entertainment so large that the entire population was entranced. It kept the masses under control and entertained, and kept their love for the monarchy at high levels. At first, Kiske believed his job would be to oversee the circus. That would have been a difficult job, which would involve managing multiple shows, finding new creatures for amusement, and learning to appease crowds; a task both suitable and crucial to every lord should know. This vision would be shattered on his arrival.

The worst part for Kiske was that there was to be no chance to learn magic. Magic was a sought after gift in Airedale, let alone the rest of the human civilizations. If any family were to possess it, it would make them extraordinarily powerful in the coming years. Upon his first day of clown training, Kiske would witness the antics of these people, which were strange and unfunny. Big shoes, colorful faces, and silly feats like juggling were all so simple they were used to entertain the peasantry, and in no way could be entertaining to a group of people like nobles. After his first week, things began to change. He learned the basics of face painting and how to sew. His first month, things began to change even more when the clowns became his friends. They were simple peasants, and when they realized he was a noble, they were expectedly enchanted. It was even more surreal when they found out Kiske had magic, but as it turned out, he wasnāt the only one.
Many peasants possess magic, usually discovering it later in life. Tricks that are done in the circus are often done through magic. The tightrope walker dangling in the air attached magic to his feet so as to never fall. The lion-tamer was using an illusion to calm the creature, and make it think of her as its mother. When Kiske joined their flock, he began to learn all that they had to teach him. The performers were not only able to teach him arts which were distinctly his, but taught him arts of their own, and began the process of teaching him ones that he could develop over time. His true magical gift was that of mystic strings: impossible to break and infinitely useful, Kiske quickly learned to use them to patch up the injuries his friends sustained. He became their doctor, and over time, heād become quite competent. He also studied under a sword swallower. As it turns out, the man could create the swords and dissolve them. The sword never went down his throat at all, simply vanishing before it touched his tongue. It was very unusual for someone to pick up three spells in such little time, even if he hadn't yet mastered them, the performers were quite impressed.
As his passion for magic and number of friends grew, so too did Kiskeās passion for the show. Kiske was beginning to love being a clown and mesmerizing the audience with his performances. And really, he was good at it. His skills with makeup and decision to use smoke made him a class act, and for nearly fifteen years Kiske forgot he was even a noble. While beneath the canopy of the tent, Kiske felt he was a God, soon snatching the title of star of the show, the clown and contortionist who had card tricks, knife throwing, sword swallowing and beast taming. He could do it all.
All dreams must die eventually. On one occasion that the royal circus was in the capital, all those of noble houses were invited personally by the Queen. Those from Airedale came far and wide to see the spectacle which the King boasted of, including Kiskeās parents. The opening night was on Kiskeās 26th birthday. They were entertained by the best, and it was a show which no one would soon forget. At the end of it, the Queen summoned Kiske alone onto the stage. Then, she asked him to wipe off the paint on his face. When he obliged and looked out at the crowd, there were faces of laughing nobles all around⦠and the two horrified faces of his parents in the front row.
It was then that Kiske realized the depths of depravity which the throne had sunk. They had planned this, all of this, for the one night where they would humiliate Kiskeās family in front of all of the other nobles. While the clown stood there smiling, a fire burned in his chest. To see his familyās hearts break in that instant was enough to send Kiske over the edge. When he retired to his room, he began to formulate a plan. Kiske would get revenge on the King, and all the other nobles in his path. Since Kiske was 16th in line for the throne, heād aim to shorten that number. He would make those whoād embarrassed his family know what loss meant. For losing his chance to go to the worldās best magical academy, and he would take revenge for the life that never came to be by killing all 16 nobles which stood between him and the throne.
Not that his goal was to become king of Airedale; simply, he would make his great-great-grandfather proud. Cause enough of a loss in assets to have a new charter drafted. Perhaps his eventual son could become king. That night Kiske left the Circus with two oaths: The first was that heād cut a path of blood between himself and the throne, and the second was that heād never again remove his face paint in front of others.
Kiske was en route to two noble houses that very night. As their sons studied for tasks the King had assigned to them, Kiske moved in behind them. With his unbreakable threads he hung them from their balconies. Investigations were slow, as it looked like suicide. Kiske would manage to kill eight others before the month was up, with each one becoming more and more gruesome. Some would find their bodies riddled with knives. Others were driven insane his illusions bashed their heads on the walls. It wasn't long before he earned the name āBlue Bloodletter,ā the mysterious rogue who was murdering all the firstborn noble sons and their families. In total, nearly forty bodies were scattered in his wake. It was his attempt on the ninth in line that would get Kiske caught.
His capture was simple. As he entered the manor, Kiske was swarmed by Silver Knights with drawn blades. Kiske tried hard to run from them, but clown shoes proved mediocre, causing him to trip. Having never been in so much as a physical argument, Kiske was unable to put up a fight, and was sent to a tower in Autumour.
It was the worst prison in the three kingdoms, and it was where he would await his eventual death. Guards watched his every move. Yet prison, as it turned out, was a lot like being born into nobility. There was little freedom, and your path was chosen for you. One meal a day was guaranteed, but it was quite easy to beat someone with a brick for two more. His job, too, was chosen for him, and Kiske was assigned to the monotonous task of breaking rocks in Rogland Quarry. But it wasnāt the worst that could have happened; his body got a bit bigger, and his intimidation factor increased.
The clownās execution was set for ten years from his incarceration. At first, the hazing was ridiculous, and early on Kiske had his first time slaying a man with a plate. While his magic was subdued through specialty wrist cuffs and bars, he learned much watching the anatomy and mannerisms of his fellow inmates, and his ability to aim through throwing knives came in handy. Fights ended quickly, and while the clown still couldnāt punch through a paper bag, Kiske could certainly make use of a weapon's edge. Ten years was eventually reduced to seven, and it was only after six of them that Kiske finally found his way out. A town crier making rounds was loud enough that even he could hear the news from the top of his tower. [i]āAll those daring to combat the Pestilence! A new band of men wish to seek out the cause and destroy it once and for all. Any crime will be forgiven, any sin will be resolved! Go to the Ebony Bridge in a week's time.ā
The boredom was the worst part. Kiske had never been bored before. After only two years, even the toughest criminals came to avoid him. Heād become too bulky to try and bully, and he was flexible enough to avoid most of their blows. Perhaps new this organization could provide him a challenge. He summoned a guard at once, and explained that he wished to speak with someone representing this order. He expected the initial hostility, but within a few days, an elven woman awaited him. She was his test, a woman those favor he needed to win, in order to escape the dreaded boredom. And oh, he'd had quite a bit of experience winning favors. Yet the elf, "Celeste," he soon learned, seemed unamused with his offer, but nonetheless she waited to be impressed.
She asked Kiske to show her his powers. Once his cuffs were removedānot without reluctance from the attending guard--he demonstrated just that. He could attach and reattach his own arm. Summon daggers and create illusions. The clown insisted that he would be useful as a healer, just as he'd done for his troupe before, and that any wound could be healed with his magic. He explained that he would be dead in a year if he wasn't released today, and he would rather spend that year giving back to the world. An attending guard protested that he was a psychopath, one who clearly ācraved powerā as heād killed many in the line of succession. However, Celeste decided the human would be useful. Now, mere footsteps remain between Kiske and the Gathering.

[F L A G S]
Kiske's one and only flag is that you must go on a date with him. This is open to anyone of any sex or race! It has nothing to do with romance, or how much you particularly care for Kiske. You will have a great time.