"Handsome Armor, not a scratch on it."
"I know. People have been swinging at me for years and they always seem to miss." – A great swordsman.
The dance of death is the greatest show. It's not about power or survival, but the spectacle. Kieran lives and kills by the edge of his sword, but it is not anger that drives him.
A sword edge misses him by a hairsbreadth, and his own blade opens a vein.
Then severs a tendon.
Then an artery.
Too quick and there is no pleasure in the dance. Too slow and the ending is boring.
As with every form of entertainment, the ending can make or break the entire piece.
Swordsmanship - Kieran is a master swordsman. From technique to flourishes, he revels in the subject.
Baubles - The hedge is home to an infinite variety of trinkets and materials. Kieran hunts for these, both for his own collection and for others. For a price.
Parliament of Victors - He intends to join!
Why he's Here
Born in the 1920s, Kieran was a hooligan at best when he was taken. He spent what seemed like an eternity in the fighting pits of his Keeper, The Lord of Games. He was initially cast into the pit as fodder for some champion, but proved his worth when he simply was not there every time the champion's axes cut wide arcs through the air. At the end of that battle, Kieran was the only one standing, and was gifted mutations of unnatural grace and agility to compliment his evasive method of fighting.
As with all gladiators, eventually the Lord of Games became bored with Kieran and decided that he would stack the odds against his most prized warrior. Kieran saw that his days were numbered and escaped. He finds himself seeking friends and work in Fallcoast now, and he has mulled over the idea of opening his own Arena more than once...