Keta Adegoke
Wizard
Keta Adegoke
Species
Half-Elf
Appearance
Keta stands with the stillness of someone trying very hard not to look young. Her posture is natural rather than rigid, one shoulder slightly lower than the other, and her serious expression is repeatedly betrayed by a bright, impatient spark in her eyes. Her copper-brown skin has a fine golden undertone that catches candlelight. Short, tapered curls frame her head like dark brushstrokes, with three narrow cords of black silk threaded through the curls above her right temple. Her hands are unusually memorable: the fingertips are stained blue-black with ink, the nails clipped square, and the pads of her fingers roughened by years of grinding pigments and turning brittle vellum. She smells faintly of clove oil, extinguished candle smoke, and wet stone, a scent she insists is merely the library. The contradictory detail is her clothing: she is dressed in severe, expensive dark finery, yet one sleeve has been carefully patched with plain gray thread and one polished boot is visibly older than the other.
“Measured and exact, with clipped consonants and a habit of pausing before important nouns. When genuinely excited, she slips into rapid, musical phrasing and occasionally repeats the last word of a sentence under her breath.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A small crescent-shaped patch of pale skin beneath her left collarbone, shaped like a comma.
Ink-black fingertips and square-clipped nails from constant manuscript work.
Three black silk cords threaded through her curls above her right temple.
A faint scent of clove oil, candle smoke, and wet stone.
Her eyes look stern until excitement catches in them, at which point her whole face seems younger.
Voice
“A low, clear contralto that seems older than her face. She rarely raises it. When angry, she becomes quieter, forcing others to lean closer.”
Clothing
A fitted charcoal coat with a high collar, black satin lapels, dull silver clasps, and a wine-red waistcoat mostly hidden beneath it. Her trousers are tailored and practical, her gloves are thin gray kid leather with the fingertips cut away, and her old left boot has been polished until it nearly matches the newer right one. A narrow spellbook hangs beneath her coat on a chain.
Body Language
Keta keeps her hands folded behind her back when listening, but her ink-stained thumb rubs against her forefinger whenever she is concealing uncertainty. She tilts her head toward sounds before turning her eyes, a habit inherited from her elven mother. In danger, she lowers her center of gravity and smiles very slightly, as though a difficult problem has finally become interesting.
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