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Isenn Kahfdal

This young military knight has found his loyalty shifting to come dangerously close to becoming what he once despised... His pure, though fickle smiles come as easily as they go. Sleepless nights are often the cause of those dark rings under his eyes.

0 · 291 views · located in Southern Grazing Lands

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Wattenslaafje


"Where in this frail body do I find the strength to even stand?"

"I have been told that all lives are essentially one. Unfathomable, isn't it? Our existences so simplistic far beyond the core, it's laughing right in our faces, and we have become, nay, have always been deaf and blind to a truth clear in our front."

"Ever since before our people even chose their weapons, we have all been pretending to be warriors without fear. What else could we do? For if we could even start comprehending this intricate clockwork, we'd be left with nothing but the desire to end it with our own hands."

"That is why we are preparing."

Isenn Kahfdal.

A mildly fickle disposition, mentally fragile under certain pressure and more often than not, downright skittish. A trained military discipline shines through behind nervous eyes, but his inexperience may outbalance his usefulness in actual conflicts beyond an one-on-one fight or chasing off wild animals. One will mainly find him in the rural areas, where he tends to the horses of a local farmer as a stablehand in return for a roof over his head and simple meals.

Almost 21 years old. Eyes a dull grey, hair to the shoulders in a dark red hue, borderline black and brown. A slight bit of a contrast to his skin which is, though a healthy colour, a tad bit lighter than the norm. About 173cm in height, Isenn is not too muscular or build for physical activity, nor too lank or slender to lack the affinity. Son to a merchant, Isenn hails from a city in a mountainous region. And though miles from home, the local faiths, social structures, ideals, morals and mentality reach him still.

His attires are simple, but clearly chosen with a deliberate style in mind. A cheap muffler on the chilly days, long tunics, loose pants, often an open sleeveless longcoat on top. A strap of cloth around his waist keeps the flowing clothing comfortably in place for easy movement. Harsh colours are avoided in his casual outfits, and he often opts for softer, natural colours with shades of white dominating his appearance.
On his days free from errands, Isenn is often seen to be donning his greaves and on occasion, a single parrying gauntlet on his off hand, worn along with a graceful yet simple longsword at his side. The chest piece and other articles are deliberately left off. The graceful pieces of protection are proudly branded with a foreign emblem, but he does not wear them anymore for the reason of protection. Even in the lands beyond his city, he considers himself a sword for his land and a tool for his beliefs.

Doubtless, this young face has known brighter smiles.

So begins...

Isenn Kahfdal's Story

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How Isenn managed to keep up to this point was quite beyond himself.

There he stood, feet steadily planted on the soil, form bent a bit foward with his arms held a bit off his sides and at least a metre's distance inbetween his heels, truly, like he was ready to dodge to either side. After that dash he held up for who-knows-how-long by this point, his breath has become an unsteady wheeze, and the muscles in his calves have begun to scream in protest. Though his eyes squinted, the single word tumbling out with a ragged exhale was not one in fear, anger or negativity.


On the edge of the grazing plains Isenn faced the mischievous horse, who stood only several metres further away, with a demeanour of resignation. Only when he shifted to stand upright with a last heave of the chest, did he notice how the beaming midday-sun from above has further worn him down since he continued his chase beyond the shades of overarching trees a distance back.
Gale has never been the easiest of the bunch, and it's like he knew how worked up he could get Isenn before practically making the boy kneel before his stubborness. And with something kin to nonchalant pride, the horse quite simply stepped a slight bit to the side to turn away, only before helping himself to the lush grass beneath its feet.

Isenn merely grimaced as he gave up trying to block, stop, and catch Gale in this wide area. Truly as unstoppable as the wind.

"But only for a little bit." He sighed aloud, rubbing the back of his neck while he bent his spine inward to ease his screaming muscles, "Sir Boss ain't fond of your specific tastes in grass."

The only sign of aknowledgement Gale gave to Isenn's words, was a brief flick of the ear. The young man fell, with a controlled collapse, to the ground below onto his back. The back of his hand shielded his eyes from the sun's glare while he kept Gale in the corner of his vision. As his breathing steadied and his muscles unwound, he truly had a moment to consider just how quiet it was on these plains today.