Fast description:

Height: 6'2" standing tall, usually 5'8''
Body: Stocky, crippled
Scents: Formaldehyde and exotic smokes
Hair: Greying brown
Eyes: Piercing, pale blue
Demeanour: Bitter and apathetic
Theme: Grim-dark
Accent: Slavic during an English occupation.
Special notes: Breathless, holy symbols of Jergal and a large black tome behind his left hip.

All you need to know:

Kent is a holy man to some degree as he boasts several silver and plain stained white skulls upon his clothing at all times. One item of note being that silver amulet depicting a skull clutching a scroll in it's jaw-less maw.

Perhaps Kent is a scholar too, as he often boasts a slew of books, most black like his attire with precarious torn pages dangling from old bindings. Stocks of charcoal and small rolls of parchment stick into many loops of leather and cloth on his body. Sometimes he is even seen wearing a dainty pair of spectacles.

But Kent too is a warrior, or else why would he have that tool of a bastard sword crossed over his back? It is a plain weapon, a beast of burden much like he who possesses it, crackling with negative energy. Even when sheathed. A wad of folded metal and screws adorns his left armoured arm, which when in need expands into a small shield. The armour he can so often caught wearing is mundane, and functional as plates adorn his extremities but oddly enough not his torso.

His multifaceted life bares a peculiar curve but as he does not walk or stand like a man in the throws of life. He is actually often still, no sway or sign of breath, hands still and disciplined. Despite the stubborn stance he holds, it is quite bent and broken. Kent holds an awful limp in his left leg and seems in pain with pressure lays there.  He favours sitting, or at least leaning and that is how most catch him in public.

Under all this one would say that Kent is a sickly man. He was pale, appeared malnourished and as mentioned before often limps from here to there. Smelling of formaldehyde the scent was often covered in the smell of tobacco and exotic incense. His hair was greying and terribly split at the end of his roguish knot. Kent's sunken eyes are a cool, almost frozen blue, the only splash of colour on his dreary palette.

Red Lights: Rulebreaking, graverobbing and childlike characters.