Kin-Gin
Wizard
Kin-Gin
Species
Human
Appearance
Kin-Gin looks like a man who has been left in a dry attic for a century and then politely asked to open shop. His scalp is mostly bare, and the remaining silvery-white hair lies in thin, wiry wisps that seem permanently charged with static. His skin is parchment-dry, his shoulders slope forward, and his joints make faint clicking sounds when he moves. Yet he walks with surprising speed when distracted by an interesting customer. Behind round brass spectacles, his eyes are bright, wet, and startlingly young, filled with quick intelligence, delight, and a dangerous willingness to test an idea on himself. His hands are the most noticeable feature after his eyes: broad, knotted, and stained with permanent rings of blue, green, and rust-red from decades of alchemy. His fingers move with delicate precision despite their battered appearance. He seems frail until he suddenly occupies the entire room by leaning over a counter, peering into someone's face, and asking an intimate question in a delighted whisper. The contradiction is unmistakable: he looks ready to collapse, but carries himself like the only person in the building who knows where every exit leads.
“His voice is thin, brisk, and surprisingly musical, with a faint rasp beneath every sentence. He speaks quickly when excited and slows to an unnerving whisper when discussing death, money, or ingredients.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
Round brass spectacles with lenses of different thicknesses, both apparently correct.
Permanent blue, green, and rust-colored stains embedded in the creases of his hands.
A small brass key grows from the head of his ivory walking stick and turns by itself when danger approaches.
His eyes are unnervingly youthful compared with the rest of his face.
He smells faintly of cloves, dust, old paper, and lightning.
Voice
“Kin-Gin speaks in a quick, papery tenor with a cheerful rasp, as though every sentence is a private joke he has been waiting decades to share.”
Clothing
Simple but excellent clothing: a charcoal waistcoat, cream shirt, brown trousers, polished ankle boots, and a long russet shopkeeper's coat with deep inner pockets. Every garment is clean, carefully mended, and faintly scented with camphor, cloves, and hot metal.
Body Language
Kin-Gin leans toward people as if listening through their bones. His cane taps in irregular rhythms, his spectacles slide down his nose whenever he is amused, and his stained fingers constantly sort invisible ingredients on the counter. When frightened, he smiles and becomes motionless.
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