He was silent, each footstep was dead leaves fallen. The arcanaloth is a pastel-hued stain, spilling across the floor rather than striding into view. A rip of an ice cube upon bare flesh, the first flick of a lover's tongue into an open, wanting mouth; as with many outsiders, there was something innately unsettling to the mortal viewer.  The creature be he in half-elven or canine guise wasn't beautiful in any sense, the soft blue hairs and oversized ears more akin to a soft toy, but each movement held an unnatural, eerie grace passing among the crowd like smoke.

His fur seemed to lack the subtle differentiation in the pigment of natural tones, rather it was a powdery pastel blue or the purest snowy white. His mane was intensely coiffured, seemingly immune to the assailing winds flowing past over his bare shoulders and past his slender hips. His gaze drifts disinterestedly among those present, his eyes were a pale sickly pink, his default expression akin to a condescending sneer.

Typically with a cigarette between his clawed fingertips, expelling the odd cloud of haze from his snout like a wyrm. Rarely sighted in the same outfit twice, typically favoring light and open
garments regardless of the climate. Trinkets and ornamentation seemed to vary wildly, but two staples remained constant. The first was a small plain black velvet collar around his neck bearing a silver clasp in the shape of a human hand with a heart-shaped hole in the centre. The second, a scratched and tarnished amulet in the shape of a clawed gauntlet typically hung on a longer chain near the centre of his chest.

Though not usually in full view, obscured either via sleeve or armlet encircling Cathal's right forearm is a black ink tattoo. In contrast to his otherwise elegant silhouette, rather clumsily done as if the artist might have been drunk at the time are the words "Sea Dog". A greater contrast still was his voice; a heavily accented lilting brogue, each sentence a flurry of curses and obscenities. Apparently, you could take the dog out of Wharftown, but not Wharftown from the dog.

Those walking closer by might smell expensive perfume; white musk, honeysuckle and....Alcohol? Definitely alcohol. He'd drank enough down the years that he was approaching self-embalment, and it seems he was just as deep in the habit as he had been decades ago.

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Full Name: Cathal Kouya
Pronounced: Caa-Hill Koo-Yah
Species: Arcanaloth
Class: Dread Necromancer
Languages: Alzedo, Mulhorandi, Celestial, Infernal.