Rhydian is – or possibly was – a knight of Caer Callidyrr (essentially Faerunian Camelot) in the Moonshae Isles. He maintains himself like a member of the High Queen’s court, and as such is wildly out of place in Skullport. After a period of not-entirely-subtle lurking, Rhydian has come to admit the reason for his presence in the Port of Shadows: to act as a slave-broker on behalf of a fae creature haunting his island home, which demands captives of a specific nature for its revels in excess of what the Moonshaes can provide, and which the knights cannot yet overcome by force of arms. He claims to have accepted this duty reluctantly, out of duty to Queen and country to perform the lesser of two evils, but his manner suggests he may not be entirely unhappy to be away from the prying – and judgmental – eyes of his fellow knights, and the courtly duties and chivalric codes to which he is sworn.
Upholding those vows is likely complicated by the fact that he’s a competent fighter who can live like a prince in Skullport on the spoils of battle, and is openly devoted to Sune, a goddess of barely-restrained passions. Whether he is already corrupted by the indulgences on offer to wealthy long-term visitors in the Port of Shadows, or is merely on the way to a life of decadence and debauchery, is an open question.
A young human man with the lean, sinewy musculature that is built by the practice and necessity of violence. He has retained conventionally attractive “boyish good looks” which show the first signs of transforming into something harder-lined and harder-eyed. By his name, accent, and shock of unruly red hair, he can be placed as one of the Ffolk, the natives of the Moonshae Isles. At his ease, Rhydian is usually seen in soft fabrics in warm, vivid colors: reds and purples and golds that warm his pale skin by their presence. In a city infamous for its dirt, slime, and damp, he clings fastidiously and futilely to cleanliness, fighting a losing battle against dripping moisture and kicked-up clods of earth. His greatest weapon in this struggle is a supply of perfume that he maintains at what must be considerable expense, such that he sometimes leaves a faint trail behind him. In this way, he is often accompanied by the ghosts of roses, or of night-blooming jasmine, and the memories of distant gardens.
On most occasions, Rhydian wears a golden torc in the shape of twining stems which open into rose-gold flowers. It is a signifier of status among the Ffolk that likely marks him as either minor nobility among the cantrev-kingdoms of the Isles, a knight of the High Queen’s court, or both. It is possible that it has some religious significance to the Goddess, the aspect of Chauntea which dominates the faith of the Isles.
Rhydian is friendly, outgoing, quick to smile and laugh, and moves through life with easy confidence. He is a shameless flirt toward both men and women, but never seems to develop any lasting relationships.
Rhydian responds quickly and intuitively to body language, and has a tendency – possibly unconscious – to move right up to the edge of your personal space in friendly conversation, and to gently but persistently test whether that boundary is porous. Either through personal inclination or cultural training, he seems to enjoy the simple pleasure of touch: given the chance and clear consent, he stands side-to-side with men and women he feels comfortable with, claps them on the shoulder in conversation, and generally expresses platonic affection and camaraderie with proximity and touch.
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