[Age: 120]              
[Height: 6'5"]
[Weight: 220]
[Hair: None.]
[Eyes: None.]
[Skin colour: Tanned.]
[Gender: Male]
[Race: Formerly Githzerai - Dullahan]
                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~RP~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Before you stands a slightly hunched man his constant glances at everything around screams at those around him that he is not native to sinfar. Usually garbed tight clothing draped in flowing cloth it tends to consist of dark colours consisting of black and a dark forest green. Hiding his face but strangely not his eyes is a helmet of sorts covered in segmented metal. Much like that of a dragons scales and at the bottom of it is a small canister attached to the trunk of the mask. The canister if one takes the time to watch him is removeable and seems to be filled with a dark ring of crushed leaves with four runes enchanted on top of it.
The gloves on each of his hands on the other hand are embroidered with a different colour. On the right hand is a red filament running across the palm of his hand in the shape of a small ball of flame that seems to move if stared at for too long. On the left hand is the basic shape of a snowflake that seems to glint and spread from across his hand if stared at for too long. Apart from the clothing his stance and demeanor has quite a bit to be desired. Tending to watch other creatures from afar rather than confront and spark up a conversation be it from being to shy or just cautious of those that inhabit sinfar. He also carries himself in a way that speaks to his dedication to his work.
But that is just his appearance, The man before you is a Githzerai if one can pry the mask away or manage to gain his trust. Born in the outerplane of limbo and part of the githzerai scouting initiative he is able to pull supplies and his weapons out of the mirroring plane. Only able to pass through if the entire scouting party focuses at once. Which in the case of this Githzerai is impossible as the moment they came to sinfar they scattered to gather information in teams of three. Some were killed by their hated enemies the Illithid and others fallen to the temptations that sinfar offers. Though returning to his homeland is impossible for him he does not give up in the never ending hunt for knowledge.

After spending much time within the confines of sinfar. Sicarian came within death door far to many times. Then death seemed to stick, his soul being ripped from his body and tossed to the wind much like his head from his shoulders. But, just like that he began to move again. Another spirit moved in to occupy his body. One appreciative of the life that remained out of their grasp. As he dragged himself onto his knees a blue flame erupted from his neck signifying their transformation into a dullahan.

The spirit that rests within his body has been dead for far to long. He currently has trouble remembering much about their past. Only their name is burned into their memory.

(Feel free to say hello at any time.. I'm usually just sitting there doing nothing for nothing. And hey send me a tell if you want to once again usually doing nothing.)