Character Name: Clovis
Race: Half-elf
Age: 21
Class: Dragonblooded Sorcerer

Background (Courtier)
Clovis is the bastard son of...well, who knows? Despite spending a happy infancy in the poor quarters of Athenos (?) he put that behind him when a position was opened for him as a page at court. Having to fit in to a new environment, he quickly became a social chameleon. It was almost apt, then, when he began to observe a light scaling on his skin as he matured. His skin took in a silvery hue and he found he was able to perform minor prestidigitations. Wondering who his father - and presumed benefactor - might be, he observed those at court, but to date this has born no fruit.

By dint of dominating courtly customs, Clovis found a knack of making himself useful to those in power. He was extremely content with this until he was tasked with accompanying a diplomatic mission south. Arriving there, he found he had nothing to do, no post and no income. Perplexed, he could only conclude that he had been shunted away from court and out of the way. Worried about his mother and sisters, he scraped his savings together to buy passage home.

Personality
Although of poor stock, Clovis has enjoyed fine food, drink and high living among the elite and he has harboured ambitions of obtaining some form of temporal power. Rough living grates on him and her will easily turn his nose up at poor quality food or board. It's a shame that he has barely two coins to rub together. How will he fare when forced to live day by day with a mixed and motley group?

Brief Character Description:
Clovis is a handsome fellow, but appears not to know it. Light brown curls adorn his head, his bone structure is fine yet strong and a patchy half-beard covers his chin and cheeks. His pale blue eyes give an air of vacancy, while his skin, a tan colour in principle, has a light scaling that can make him seem almost translucent at times.

His clothes are a fine effort of keeping up appearances on little coin. He sports a white shirt with a pale leather jerkin atop. His trews were once well-made, with coloured vertical stripes, but have faded with time and repairs. His boots, of soft snug doeskin, may be his finest possession.