Khamhbahs past is not unusual, or sordid. His parents were normal, one a
craftsman, the other a teacher. When he was younger, he would find himself
more at peace when he was by himself, or so it would seem. Alone, he would
be content, serene almost. It was only when his peers were around, he had a
foul look in his eye. I think it was contempt, or jealousy of something I
couldn't see. He was never aggressive though, always in control. When he
was provoked, which his attitude harboured from the village children, he
would always turn a cheek. Looking back, I think it was more his foreword
thinking, to lash out now, would hinder his plans for the future. Than one
day, shortly after his seventeenth birthday, he just disappeared without a
word.
Description:
Standing before you, at roughly five hands, eight fingers, Khamhbah is hear poised and ready. His head is shaved bald, save for a single thick braid coming off of the back of his head. His clothing are drab and non-descript, loose, but secured firmly, so as to allow freedom of movement. When he strides, it is done with grace, and balance. His eyes, a deep sea blue and shining with intensity.
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