Oh, what a character! A Drift of Quills is sharing character sketches with you this time around. Come on in and let us introduce you to some of the people (or demons) in our upcoming novels!
This has been fun. Crow (from As the Crow Flies fame) stepped in and took over this summary about his new pal, KipKap. Who was I to argue? I’d probably lose, anyway, all the while wondering why I didn’t think of it first. So I’m just going to step aside and let him take over!
KipKap—What a Character!
KipKap… What would you like me to tell you about him? We are friends, I think. Some people find that distinction uncomfortable, for he is also a foreigner to our world. The term “demon” is insulting, for he is no such thing, though that is what he is labeled by most. He possesses a sublime sense of subtle humor, a keen mind, and a remarkable tolerance for idiots. This is, perhaps, what makes us so compatible.
’KipKap’ is not his proper name. When he says it, it’s longer. He makes the K’s more guttural and the P’s more spitty, which I find altogether too messy for my mouth.
“Did you name him?” Tanris asked when I’d introduced the two. He could pack a wagonload of suspicion in his voice. He is, in fact, a master packer. Of everything.
“It’s a stupid name.”
“I completely agree.”
“Sounds like something you’d come up with.”
“Now you’re being insulting.” I’d pretended offense.
Aside from his stature and novel appearance, the first thing one notices about him is his eyes. Polar blue and sharp as glass. Yes, I know what you’re thinking: snow covers the polar regions, so his eyes must be white, but that is not the case. Bear with me. His perfect blue gaze has the peculiar and unnerving ability to draw one’s attention or to freeze a body right where he stands. I know from experience, but that is a story for another day.
The freezing glare isn’t an ability one would expect from a fellow with a face one can only describe as gentle. Mottled, pale skin with vague stripes covers a skull too flat and too long-jawed to be mistaken for a man. And his nose, of course, leaves no doubt whatsoever. A wide bridge between large eyes slopes for a considerable distance before reaching fishlike lips. Dozens of small, razor-edged teeth can make very short work of, say, a rabbit. I don’t dwell on what they might do to someone’s arm or throat. His nostrils are irregular, strange fleshy slits. They begin at the inward corners of his eyes and continue halfway down his face. He has an admirably square jaw, but his ears look like his maker forgot what he was doing with them. Thank the gods, the globs of flesh cling neatly to his skull—at least from a front view. The bits of skin that dangle from the backs are a trifle difficult to overlook when he turns his head.
Though humanoid shape-wise, he towers over Tanris. A neck twice as long as it needs to be allows him to look behind himself like an owl. He also has six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot; all are long and knobby.
When he speaks in his two-octaves-too deep-voice, it is always with careful consideration. He remembers everything and has a keen interest in our language, customs, and ourselves as individuals. There are times he makes me feel like an interesting bug. I’m willing to overlook the possibility of insult, for I am sure I return the curiosity in equal measure.
As for the way he deals with others, KipKap’s first reaction to threat or danger is not violence like so many mere humans with whom I am acquainted. If he can, he avoids it. Yet if violence is necessary he handles it with grace, efficiency, and a beautifully crafted mace. The head bears a round ball with sharp spikes poking off the sides and one longer skewer protruding from the end. Seeing him toting it around, I had originally thought it some sort of ceremonial token. Now I know better. In my defense, the band around the center of the head has some lovely decorative ornaments carved into it. And jewels. Jewels are always nice, and these fascinate me because I’ve never seen them before.
The gods have put him in my life for a purpose. I believe it is my task to find a way to send him and his people home—yet I do not want him to go…
Author of the Oathtaker Series
We are pleased to be with you again, and just in time to wish America a very Happy Birthday, indeed!
The topic we chose this month was to put together a character sketch. I am currently in the process of introducing someone new, Athan Eamon, in Volume 4 of The Oathtaker Series, (for now, entitled, Blue Gloom), so I thought I would use Athan as a subject. I’ve known about Athan for a long time, although I was uncertain as to when he would actually show up. Then, wouldn’t you know it, a door opened and … there he was …
What follows is the beginning of a rough character sketch for Athan, and beyond that, an excerpt from my current work-in-progress. I do hope that you enjoy it.
Author of The Unseen Chronicles
At first blush, you would think the beard is his defining feature. He growls any introduction through a tangle of grizzled brush that looks like it would have taken high marks at a ZZ Top concert. The little bit of skin that can be seen behind his face wig is a cross between bark and old leather. He only introduces himself as “Doc.” Combined with the gray streaked through the beard you get the hint that he might have already come home from Vietnam when Pink Floyd formed in ’65. A faded bandana that could have been blue with stars on it at one time holds back a mop of hair. An old hippie. Except then you see a flash in his eyes. Almost black in the shadows, but with an unsettling spark. Cunning. Intelligent. Watchful. This is no peace and love and weed hippie. A live-and-let-live Big Lebowski.
This is a fighter. A hunter.
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