Name: Miercoles Guanabana

Nicknames/Aliases: n/a

Gender:M

Birthday: Quadeceimus of the 7th moon under the sign of the thousand drunk rabbits

Age: twenties

Class:Spellsword

Occupation: Bard/wandering warrior

Species: Human 

Appearance:
The man himself is clearly foreign as indicated not only by that warm latte skin tone but also his accent which has been muddled to keep it ambiguous. He is a man of average height and in good physical condition due to his prior training. He carries little aside from a black rectangular box strapped with rope on his back and his sword in an elegant scabbard.

Clothing Style:
A sharp dressed man from way outta town who proudly wears his group's uniform. That being: A matching midnight blue jacket with a white shirt and pants embroidered with an natural elemental motif and with some silver decorations on the latter end of the sleeves. And most importantly a hat worn low that gives off that sexy and mysterious wanderer vibe.

Personality: 
Mixes business with pleasure but with and edge towards going business first. Not necessarily a nice guy and seems quite aloof due to possessing a certain type of capriciousness like the wind as he goes where he wills with only the barest of direction save for when he's focused on anything related to the bars.  

Likes:
Money
Booze
Making progress on his goal
The ripples across a pond under the light of the full moon on a clear sky
Dislikes:
Hindrances
Bad busking sessions
try hards

Past/History:
Hailing far elsewhere in a sunny place, he's made his way through the lands as he continuously tracks down the thieves that stole a priceless artifact of his group. But what does that even mean? Well rewinding back he was just a regular kid playing around until one day he saw the warrior musician sect of his country. So not too long after he'd join in and things were good, he excelled in his training and got his own personal clothing making him a full fledged member. Things were all sorts of rosey until the sacred pilgrimage to retrieve the sacred bars, which are more a form of tablets. That is until the bandits attacked and stole their relic in the middle of the night. Now he's been piecemealing clues on to their direction and slowly recovered three of the eleven sacred bars. However his vow to never to return until he has them all back and the continuous travel has had some negative effects which in short has made him into a bit of a jerk.