Name
Zevran Vexmoor
Nicknames
Zev, Zevvy
Gender
Male
Date of Birth
18th of June, 1506
Age
27 Years Old
Specious
Teifling
Sexual Orientation
Bisexual
Likes
He secretly enjoys peacful moments
Sitting beside a campfire
Listening to heavy/steady rain
Reading while someone nearby talks
Sharing comfortable silence with those he trusts
Windy days
Dislikes
Dishonesty
Needless cruelty
Loud. arrogant people
Being touched unexpectedly
Carelessness
Chearp perfume or overwhelming scents
Being pitied
Occupation
Assassin
Bartender (Cover up Job)
Physical Apperence
Zevran stand at 6'1'' (185 cm), he possesses a lean, wiry physique built for speed rather then brute strength. His muscles are long and defined rather than bulky, stretching his skin like coiled steel cables. His narrow waist, broad but not oversized shoulders and powerful legs give him a fluid silhouette of a hunting predator. Nothing about him is excessive, every once of strength he carries exists for precision, agility and endurance.
His dusky lavender-gray skin bears a faint iridescent sheen that catches moonlight with subtle violet and silver undertones. Countless tattoos weave across his body like living shadows, covering much of his neck, shoulders, chest and arms. The markings resemble infernal scripture mixed with ritual circles, celestial symbols and impossibly intricate sigils.
His face is strikingly handsome in an unsettling way. High, razor-sharp cheekbones frame a narrow jawline that tapers elegantly toward a pointed chin. His lips are naturally pale and usually rest in an unreadable line, rarely betraying emotion beyond faint amusement or cold indifferentce. A thin vertical scar slices through his left eye, adding to his intimidating beauty without diminishing it. His nose is straight and refined, pierced through the bridge and septum with polished black and silver jewlery.
His eyes are perhaps the most unnerving feature. Their molten amber irises seem to glow softly from within. split by narrow vertical pupils like those of a serpant. In dim light they appear almost golden, while in darkness they burn with fiery orange hues.
Flowing nearly to his waist, his silver-white hair falls in layered, windswept strands streaked with ribbons of deep violet. Despite its length, it appears surprisingly well maintained. Loose strands constantly escape to frame his face.
Curving backward from hi8s temples are a magnificent pair of blackened horns that sweep gracefully around his head before arching outward. The ridges of the horns are decorated with countless rings and gemstones. Some ornaments re expensive works of craftsmanship while others are crude trophies, creating a beautiful chaos that reflects his wondering life.
His ears are long and sharply pointed, pierced dozens of times with an assortment of silver hoops and black cuffs. Matching jewelry decorates his eyebrows and lips.
Despite his dangerous profession, Zevran dresses with effortless elegance. Rather than heavy armor, he favors lightweight clothing that never restricts his movement. A sleevless black tunic hangs open across his torso, reavealing much of his tattooed chest while flowing dark fabrics drage around his hips in layered strips of black and violet. Leather belts wrap around his waist, supporting hidding pouches, poison vials, throwing knives, lockpicks and enchanted trinkets.
His forearms are wrapped in dark leather bindings reinforced with fitted bracers, protecting him without sacrificing flexibility. Countless rings adorn nearly every finger, many set with violet gemstones or engraved infernal symbols. His hands themselves are slender, almost delicate with long fingers perfectly suited for picking locks or handling blades. His nails are naturally black, sharpened inti elegant points that resemble polished obsidian claws.
His movements are unnaturally graceful. Every step is silent, every motion deliberate. He never wastes energy through unnecessary gestures, gliding with the smooth confidence of a stalking panther. Even standing still, he seems poised to vanish into the darkness at a moments notice. His lean frame bends, twists and shifts with incredible flexibility, allowing him to slip through impossibly narrow spaces or strike with frightening speed.
Altogether, Zevran embodies deadly elegance, a lean, wiry assassin whose beauty is matched only by the danger he represents.
Voice
Zevran's voice is as memorable as his appearence, quiet, controlled and impossible to ignore. It isn't loud or commanding through valume. Instead, it carries a calm confidence that naturally draws attention whenever he speaks.
His voice sits in a low baritone, smooth as velvet but edged with a subtle rasp, as though every word has been warn down by years of whispered conversations, smoke-filled taverns and silent nights beneath cold skies. It has a rich, resonant quality that seems to linger in the air long after he finishes speaking, making even the simplest sentence feel deliberate and meaningful.
Despite his cold demeanor, his voice carries surpising warmth when he chooses to lower his guard. It is soft enough to become strangely comforting, though this side of him is rarely heard. More often, his tone is emotionally restrained, reaviling almost nothing of what he is truly thinking. His sarcasim is incredibly dry, delivered with the exact same calm expression and tone as everything else, making it difficult to tell whether hes joking until several seconds later.
When irritated, Zevran doesnt raise his voice. Instead, it becomes quieter. the softeness itself becomes threatening, forcing those around him to lean closer to hear him. The calmer he sounds, the more dangerous the situation usually is. His anger manifests through icy precision rather than shouting.
He laughs infrequently and when he does its rarely more than a quiet, amused chuckle under his breath. Qenuine laughter is exceptionally rare but when it escapes him, it briefly softens the cold edges of his personality disaprearing just as quickly.
Personality
At first glance, Zevran appears impossible to know. He carries himself with quiet impossible to know. He carries himself with a quiet confidence and unwavering composure, his face almost unreadable. Years of betrayal, bloodshed and surviving by his own wit have taught him that emotions are vulnearabilities waiting to be exploited. He is naturally observent, often choosing to listen rather than speak, silently studying the people around him before deciding whether they deserve even a fraction of his trust. His words are measured, his movements controlled and he rarley reacts impulsivley, prefering patience over reacklessness.
Zevran possesses a razor-sharp mind. He constantly analyzes hus surroundings, noticing details others overlook, the slight tremble in someones voice, the shift of a persons eyes before they lie. the dagger hidden beneath a cloak or the subtle tention before violence erupts. His plans are rarely made on instict alone. He always considers several outcomes before acting, making him an incredibly difficult person to outmaneuver.
Despite his intimidating demeanor, Zevran isn't cruel for the sake of cruelty. He values efficiency over unnecessary suffering and rarely allows anger to dictate his actions. Violance is simply another tool to him, one he uses only when words, stealth or manipulation with not suffice. He respects competence regardless of someones status, race or background, believing actions define a person far more than titles ever could.
Trust, however, is something he gives sparingly. His past has taught him that loyalty can be bought, promises can be broken and affection can become a weapon. Because of this, he often keeps people at arms length, hiding behind dry wit, sarcasm or quiet indifference whenever conversations become to personal. He dislikes speaking about himself and will almost alwaysredirect attention elsewhere.
However, beneath the walls he has speant years building lies someone very different.
Those fortunate enough to earn Zevran's trust discover a side of him that few ever witness. Around people he considers family or the closest thing he'll ever have, his rigid composure slowly begind to melt away. His expression softens and while he isnt overly expressive, genuine smiles begin to appear more often. there small and subtle but unmistakably sincere.
He becomes noticeably more patient and attentive, remembering the smallet details about the people he cares for. He remembers how they take there tea, the stories they've shared, their favorte meals, birthdays, old injuries and even tiny habits they don't realize they have. Rather than expression affection through grand speeches, Zevran shows it throught acts of care.
He'll silently sharpen a friends weapons before a journey.
He'll leave medicine outside someone room without admitting it was him.
He'll stand watch through the night so others can sleep.
He'll fix torn clothing, replace broken equipment or slip a pounch of coins into someone belongings is he knows there struggling, never expecting thanks and often pretending he had nothing to do with it.
Around trusted companions, his humor surfaces far more often. His sarcasm becomes playful rather than biting and he occasionally teases those closest to him with an almost effortless deadpan delivery. He enjoys watching them laugh, though he would never openly admit it. In quieter moments, he can even become surprisingly talkative, sharing stories from his travels, discussing books, languages or ancient myths with genuine curiosity.
Zevran is fiercly protective of the people he loves. Although he beleives they are capable of protecting themselves, he constantly watches over them from the background, always aware of potentiel threats. If someone harms one of his trusted companions, the calm assassin returns almost instantly. He doesnt lash out in blind rage. Instead, his response is cold, deliberate and frighteningly calculated. To him, lowyalty is sacred and once someone earns it, he will defend them with unwavering determination.
Family/Friends
Father - Malrik Vexmoor (Deceased) - Former assassin - Malrik was killed during a contract after refusing to betray his own personal code.
Mother - Seraphine Vexmoor (Deceased) - Former stay at home mom - She dies while protecting Zevran from a home invation while he was still young, a sacrifice he has never forgetten.
Younger Brother - Kaelen Vexmoor (Deceased) - Kalen died from illness before reaching adulthood, a loss that left Zevran feeling powerless for the first time in his life.
(Zevran and Kalen where rather close before Kaelnes unfortunate passing)
Close friend - Cassian Vale - The only person Zevran even slightly trusts. He is a wondering half-elf ranger and former bounty hunter. - The two met years ago when the unknowingly accepted opposing contracts. After a fiece duel that ended in a draw, they chose conversation over another fight and slowly developed an unlikely friendship. Cassian became the only person that was capable of seeing through Zevrans carefully constructed walls. - Cassian is the only person that Zevran can consider as family.
Spring Month: 1 
Night 
Flood Moon: 
