Leoric of The Book
half-elf musician, dabbler in magic and lore
Leoric of the Book
The elven blood hides the years that Leo has spent on the street. At nearly thirty rather than worn and strung out from sleepless nights, frequent hunger and fear he looks like a soft young dandy of maybe twenty. He’s aware of it and plays it a little, especially in town. He’s learned being underestimated can let him slip along the edge of society mostly unnoticed.
For those that do notice, he’s a lanky youth more than a bit underweight. Dark of complexion his cafe au lait skin speaks of the southern sun. His pale eyes of elven forests. A skilled hand with makeup and in arranging his long brown hair over the ears he can usually pass as human, at least in villages where his kind are seldom seen.
On the road he wears a brown cloak over studded leather, both with many miles. He has a fancy dagger ready on his belt and a plain one poking out from his old boot. His most prominent possession is never far from hand. A black carved staff, it’s surface adorned with a motif of nude forms twisted in obscene embrace.
Also nearby is a worn old lute. While he’s not played for money much recently it takes little to coax him into a performance. He’s quite good and has collected an array of ballads and folk songs from across the world.
An owl is often visible nearby the most obvious sign of arcane practice. No stranger will see his spellbook. Nor mercy if they should happen to try.