Hector
- Paris -- medieval -DAV- Ravnos
Sobriquet: Tsinganoi
Appearance: Hector is a short man, probably no more than five feet tall. His once swarthy tan has been bleached by undeath giving him a distinctly sallow complexion. Hector's hair has been crudely shorn, probably a ritual shaming that took place a week or two before his Embrace and he has a few days worth of whiskers that he calls a beard. Hector dresses in a faded forest green robe trimmed in white animal fur. He wears a wide leather belt from which hang his weapons, numerous purses (probably not his) and the carcass of his latest animal kill (which he saves for his mortal relatives). Hector also has a hooded cloak, gloves and soft-boots of the finest black goat-skin.
Behavior: Hector is every bit the fox in the hen house. Sly and stealthy, he is a shadow rarely seen until he strikes and then the blood will flow. To those on the run from the authorities mortal or immortal, he doesn't really distinguish, he can be fine friend. A man handy with a blade and quick with a clever word or on the draw, he can be a good man to know, if, if you prove yourself to be world-wise and alert. Hector doesn't protect fools or simpletons, the world is too dangerous and only the ruthless and wise survive for long. Still when the chips are down and things seem at their worst Hector will put himself out for a black-sheep or fellow rogue, honor among thieves and all that.
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