Simply put, his name is Rakeem Begaye of a thriving inuit tribe. After serving his time in place of his father in their revolution, he retired and set off to see the world before settling down with some thick hipped servant who was willing to please the 'Great' Rakeem. His hair was deep brown, normally in thick locks that ran down to his broad shoulders. He’d made his trek across the lands from his homeland, visiting barber from stronghold to town to prevent his unruly locks growing back out on his travels. He adorned simple leather skirt during the colder days, normally parading around in his leather briefs fitted to his hips with a chain waistband. By appearance, he was something of another world in his furred boots and light grey lupine pelt. Used to mainly the freezing temperatures being an inuit warrior, what felt like a day that was slightly warm set the big man on fire. Not nearly enough to smell, but left him with a constant sheen of sweat over his exposed chest and abdomen. Townspeople would gaze at him curiously as he strolled through their home, softly singing tunes of his homeland. He traveled lightly with a bag that contained his armor, spare clothes, and some food along with his sword strapped across his back. Boy was the man a magnet to the foreign women all around, but he’d much rather sample the men lurking about. Rakeem could be nothing but subtle of what he wanted, or cryptic and alluring when he spoke with his gravelly baritone.

[i]Anything that isn't listed under [b][color=red]No[/color][/b], is up for grabs. Just ask![/i]