Caress (Thief)

Caress stands up straight, but as if reluctantly. His movements are measured, precise - like a man who is used to being in control. His height is above average, his shoulders are narrow but taut, his fingers have a subtle strength.

His face is clear, with pronounced cheekbones and a thin mouth. There is fatigue under his eyes, as if he only sleeps on trains and in other people's basements. His hair is the color of a raven's wing, long, a little tangled, combed back, but gets out with every movement.

His eyes are brown, cold, like the morning after rain. He is not used to looking straight into someone's eyes - only if he wants to say something particularly unpleasant.

He wears a dark blue cloak with gold patterns - too elegant for the street, as if stolen from someone richer, or perhaps specially chosen to confuse. The fabric, although frayed at the folds, still holds its shape. Under the cloak is a high shirt, a leather belt with a knife sticking out of it. The belt is stuffed with bags, amulets and little things useful for someone who rarely earns honestly. Boots polished to a dull shine. On the chest is a clasp in the form of an old coat of arms, almost erased. Perhaps he himself no longer remembers what it means.

The voice is even, calm, without hoarseness - there is more venom in it than a scream. He speaks rudely not because he lost his temper, but because he considers you beneath him.

Laurent does not like dirt, but he lives in it. He is not a hero and not a thief in the classic sense - he is simply in the wrong place. And if you crash into him, it is you who turned the wrong way.

He looks like he was born in an alley - and maybe he was. He speaks sharply, acts boldly, and has street reflexes that kick in before you can say "stop." He can throw a rude word, swipe your wallet, and disappear into the crowd before you even know what happened.

But behind all this is a sharp mind. Not hot-tempered, but thoughtful. He is not just a street cat - he is a cat that knows how to wait, watch, choose when to act. He easily gains trust, but he does it not for the pleasure of it, but for the result. His cunning is not in the theater, but in calculation. He does not always act quickly - but when he does, he is right on target.

He knows how the city is arranged - and the people in it. He sees weakness, knows how to listen, rarely trusts. But when he speaks - you feel that there is more sense in his words than it may seem. Sometimes he says stupid things on purpose to put you to sleep. And then he strikes - not necessarily with a sword.

Lask can laugh hoarsely and kick a box near a tavern, but in his head he will analyze your gait, speech and weaknesses. Laurent can sit in the corner without saying a word - but when you approach him, he will already know what you want.

He survives by all means: impudence, silence, knife, word. Never completely frank, even if he smiles. He may have a past - an old name, an old house, an old sin. But all this remains somewhere in the ashes. And now he is a thief. Or just a man who has learned to live better than those who think that he is a lower class.