Ralkin
| Ralkin | |||||||
| Male Kenku | |||||||
| Player: Mordheim | |||||||
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| General Information | ||||||||||
| Full Name: | Ralkin Swiftfeather | |||||||||
| Nicknames: | Swift | |||||||||
| Age: | 21 | |||||||||
| Deity: | N/A | |||||||||
| Alignment: |
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| Occupation: | Taxidermist, tax/debt collector, license commissioner | |||||||||
| Faction/Rank: | The Fated | |||||||||
| Place of Birth: | The Outlands, Bedlam | |||||||||
| Physical Attributes | ||||||||||
| Height: | 4'3" | |||||||||
| Weight: | 75lbs | |||||||||
| Eyes: | Violet | |||||||||
| Hair: | Black(feathers) | |||||||||
| Complexion: | Feathered | |||||||||
| Physical Build: | Avian | |||||||||
| Physical Features: | Bird-like | |||||||||
| Skills | ||||||||||
| Stealth, Reconnaissance, Surveillance, Property Extraction, Extortion, Subterfuge, Lock-Smithing | ||||||||||
| Equipment and Items | ||||||||||
| He is often seen with a black longbow with silver engravings along the wood that resemble feathers. | ||||||||||
Physical Appearance
Ralkin, a kenku of uncanny presence, bears an unmistakable resemblance to a great crow wrought from shadow. His body is cloaked in sleek, iridescent feathers that shimmer like oil beneath torchlight, cloaking a sinewy frame honed by a life of silence, speed, and survival in the alleyways of Sigil. Though flightless, his form retains the elegance of avian lineage — each movement precise and sharpened with purpose.
Both his arms and legs end in curved, obsidian talons, and his entire form — skin, beak, and eyes — shares a uniform midnight hue, giving him a silhouette as seamless as it is unsettling. A distinctive gold plate, finely wrought with swirling filigree, caps the end of his beak — not just a mark of identity, but a subtle symbol of prestige or tribute. Along the upper bridge of the beak, faint grey swirls curl like smoke, etched by hand in a pattern known only to him.
His eyes, set slightly toward the rear and sides of his head, afford him a wide, nearly panoramic field of vision — a rare gift among humanoids, and one that makes approaching him unnoticed nearly impossible. In the half-light of Sigil’s endless dusk, he watches — never still, never unaware — the silent shadow with a golden smile.
Equipment
Ralkin is never without his black longbow — a sleek, predatory weapon of masterful craftsmanship. Silver feathers are etched along its limbs, their delicate inlays catching the light like moonlight on raven wings. The bow is silent as death when drawn, paired with a quiver of black-fletched arrows, each hand-fletched and barbed for precise, lethal strikes.
Beneath his belt and hidden within the folds of his shadow-colored robes lie an array of finely balanced daggers, each secured for silent, effortless access. Ralkin’s hands move like whispers when he reaches for them — there is no wasted motion, no hesitation.
Crossed across his back, in scabbards worn smooth from use, rest a matched pair of short swords. Forged for speed and silence over brute force, their blades are dark and unadorned, designed for one purpose: to end a fight before it begins. Stamped into the leather of each scabbard, almost invisible in dim light, is the symbol of the Fated — the stylized grasping hand — a quiet reminder of the philosophy he serves: that only those with the strength to seize power are worthy to wield it.
Personality (Traits, Interests and Goals)
Ralkin is a creature of shadow, not just in form but in temperament. He thrives in the quiet company of others — often lurking just within earshot, cloaked in anonymity. He speaks little, not out of shyness, but by choice. Words, to Ralkin, are like coin: spent too freely, they lose their value. He listens instead — always listening — cataloging voices, rumors, secrets, and motives with obsessive precision. To him, silence is an advantage, and being unnoticed is as potent as any blade.
Despite his quiet demeanor, Ralkin is driven by a gnawing hunger for what others possess. He covets wealth, trinkets, status, and secrets with a ravenous greed that borders on compulsion. If something catches his eye, it’s only a matter of time before it ends up in his talons — be it through theft, trickery, or violence. He feels no shame in taking what he wants; after all, if someone loses it, they didn’t deserve it.
Paranoia is his constant companion. Every ally is a potential betrayer, every kindness a trap, every shadow a lurking threat. He checks his gear repeatedly, counts his coins more than once, and cannot abide disorder in his possessions. His mind claws at him with routines and fixations — checking that the same dagger is in the same pocket, that his feathers are groomed just so, that he steps over the same cracks in Sigil’s streets.
To those who don’t know him, Ralkin may appear aloof or strange. But beneath that cold, calculating stare is a mind honed like a razor — one that trusts no one, misses nothing, and is always waiting for the moment to strike.
Background Information
(This information is strictly OOC and is not common knowledge)
Ralkin hatched into a lineage steeped in silence, shadows, and secrets. For generations, his murder-clan of kenku had served House Shil’Vel — a ruthless dark elf household entrenched in the chaos-ridden Citadel District of Bedlam. The Shil’Vel valued discretion, guile, and obedience, and the kenku provided all three in abundance.
Perched high above the squalor of Bedlam’s Midtown, the clan made their nests across the rooftops like carrion birds awaiting death. Ralkin’s own roost was atop Weylund’s Inn on Barrikin Lane, where broken chimneys and rusted gutters served as both home and hunting ground. It was there that he and his two brothers, Surkil and Renkil, were raised by their parents, Irtilk and Kariin — master thieves and quiet killers. From them, Ralkin learned the sacred arts of stealth, subterfuge, and survival, whispered to him like bedtime stories through cracked beaks and wind-worn feathers.
As he came of age, Ralkin began working with the Sarex, a cutthroat gang known for extortion, burglary, and back-alley violence in Bedlam. Though most members were blunt instruments, Ralkin served as their shadow — slipping through cracks, climbing walls, and slipping past guards to open paths for the rest. His paranoia, obsessive precision, and refusal to be seen made him invaluable… but not content.
Eventually, the confines of Bedlam — even its rooftops — grew too small. Whether fleeing betrayal, pursuing ambition, or simply answering some silent calling, Ralkin severed ties with the Sarex and vanished into the planar gates. He emerged in Sigil, the City of Doors, a perfect hunting ground for a creature like him: a city of secrets, shifting loyalties, and limitless opportunity.
Now, far from his kin and the streets of Bedlam, Ralkin survives as a free agent — spy, thief, and shadow for hire. But the lessons of his murder-clan, the stain of House Shil’Vel, and the scars of the Sarex still cling to him like soot on feathers.
Hometown/Region: Bedlam
House Shil'Vel
(Information not available yet.)
