Dans la taverne il s'assit, une cabine d'angle à l'extrémité de l'endroit près de la porte de la cuisine. Il a regardé les patrons de l'intérieur. Actuellement, deux de ses clients et deux de ses cibles étaient côte à côte, chacun voulant la mort de l'autre. Il s'agissait d'une querelle concernant la terre et le bétail manquant, à laquelle il ne s'occupait pas. Il devait être tout simplement un moyen d'arriver à une fin. Il a dit à chacun de rencontrer l'autre dans la taverne, prétendant à l'autre que l'un veut mettre fin à la querelle avec un verre et un nouveau départ. Les pauvres sodas. Trop stupide pour se rendre compte qu'ils finiraient l'un l'autre par le même poison que le même sorcier. Derrière le masque, il ne pouvait s'empêcher de sourire alors qu'il les regardait tous les deux claquer les tasses ensemble et prendre une gorgée de liquide contaminé. Comme ils l'ont fait il s'est levé et a fait son chemin vers eux et a atteint dans la poche de celui pour sa pièce.
"Oi wadderya do-do...du"
"Est-ce que Fer Mah Lahnd et Cahttle Yew volé à meh... attendez une tique... Je me sens si bien."
"Celui-ci a dit le paiement doit être à moitié à l'avance, à moitié lorsque le travail est terminé. Un homme ne se souvient plus, et il ne se rappellera plus. » L'autre a rapidement commencé à sentir le poison prendre effet et s'est rapidement effondré sur le sol, renversant le reste de la boisson. Les yeux éloignés rencontraient ses yeux sans vie alors que le dernier souffle du client/cible était tiré. Avec l'achèvement des contrats, il quitte la taverne, devenant seulement un moment dans son histoire toujours croissante.
Samuael of Grimoire, The Phantom of Grimoire

Age:
Has lost count but believes to be around 127 (looks to be in his mid to late twenties)
Appearance:
He stands around 6'2" with a very well defined physique. Underneath his armor and mask, scars are brushed across his body like a violent canvas, each one with a story to tell. His hair is long and white as so with most witchers but still has a slight highlight of black near his forehead. He has deep golden cat eyes that are steeled to age and experience. He has never removed his mask since he has put it on unless in the privacy of his own room.
Race:
Witcher
School:
Cat
Bio:
To be explained through the RP
Personality:
Sort of detached from society, he finds humans to be fascinating little creatures even though he was one himself. He prefers to remain silent and be a listener rather than a speaker as interactions with the regular crowd seem to put him off a bit as he has become somewhat apathetic towards them, seeing as they are more coin than anything else. One thing to particularly note is his like of proper nouns, preferring the pronoun game by saying "his", "her", "a man" or "a woman" when speaking about himself or anyone else. It isn't too difficult however to figure out when he is being serious as he then moves into the third person communication. Only when he is angered does he turn to first person speak though this is very hard to do. He comes off as blunt and dangerously so, to his own physical health as he does not filter what he says.
On the battlefield he is cold, cunning and analytical. Leaning towards quick and easy tactics that are precise and effortless while providing the most efficient outcome but even then he still has his faults. He prefers to work alone but has gotten use to the idea of group effort, although agitation tends to raise inside himself as stupid moves are made by others, sometimes causing him to blatantly knock them out so they can stay out of his way.
Weapons:
1x Two handed Silver/steel Damascus blade
1x Single hand Silver/steel short sword
2x Silver daggers forged with poisons running across the blade.
1x Bow made of dense rare wood and strung together with a mix of fibers and hairs to create a tough and durable bowstring.
1x quill of silver dipped arrows (roughly 25 arrows)
1x Witcher's kit
Family/relationships?:
(To be discussed with others)
Other:
Has a pet Raven named Dahlia,