Legends of Belariath
Kendarin
So... you wish to know more about the blackfurred catmage? Intriguing. Usually he does not receive many visitors here... but then again, he hasn't had me to talk for him, to tell his side of the story.
If you must, refer to me as the Narrator.
Kendarin's a rather enigmatic cat... polite and demure when circumstance requires it, yet at the same time, he can be fierce and fiery. He was born in the deserts far away from your Lonely Inn, to a magician father and a gypsy mother. His father was spiritual and intelligent, always trying to find new questions to ask the public, always trying to come up with the next big spell, concept, potion, anything of the magical arts. His mother was renouned as one of the most beautiful dancers known in all of the sands.
For the first few years of his life, both of Kendarin's parents were a part of his life. His father taught him the basis of his spellcraft-- which he someday hopes to grow to a formidable force-- and his mother taught him the delicacies of music. Kendarin learned how to play the guitar at the ripe age of four (his current age is a secret-- even I don't know it) and as such, music is a very big part of the feline's life. He always seems to have a rhythm flowing through his bones, a spring in his step, and while this lends to his dancer's grace, he often curses it; he doesn't wish to be seen as a submissive, as someone to be molded, abused, made into a pet.
He's a handsome thing, he really is. His face is youthful, with just a touch of sternness to it, but there's a mirth that glitters in snowgrey eyes that can't be found anywhere else. Though his frame is slight, since he is indeed a mage, it is well-toned. If you look carefully at him, you can see the lines of his musculature beneath his fur. Should you get to that point, however, you'll also see all the scars... crisscrossing over his chest, his stomach, his back... some nickname him the “Scarred Panther”.
Kendarin is nomadic, and sometimes, he comes across lands where felines aren't welcomed. More than once he's been hunted... sometimes for slavery, sometimes for his pelt, and sometimes for pure hatred. While he is lucky enough to be alive, and having only been captured once, he isn't so lucky as to escape injury, and this shows on his body.
Whether you call him “Kendarin”, “Ken”, “Bloodtear”, “The Scarred Panther” or “Master”, he's still worth getting to know. Should you come across him... say hello. Present yourself. Do what you will.
He's worth your time.