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Kevar Hard-learned reserve cloaks his once whip-thin frame, those wiry limbs now layered with Crom-built muscle and held with a new easy confidence set off against the lyrical cadence of step and motion. The shallow layer of wry, morbid whimsy that once scuffed his gaunt features is barely visible 'neath easier lines of newfound serenity, though his craft-blue eyes are as deep and fathomless as ever. His short-cropped tangle of dun-streaked hair is neatly layered against the weathered bronze of his countenance, journey's travels likewise darkening his agile fingers and modulating tenor's resonant tones. Sunwashed sand is the pale, granular tan of his leather vest, worn loose over the salt-bleached linen shirt and baggy-kneed azure trous; soft-soled shoes, a darker brown than his loopy socks, cushion long feet against longer journeys.
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