Karlvin Kitpalm is a human-ish looking male. Of tall lean, but toned build. Like that of healthy swimmer or runner. Of slightly tanned skin from being in the harsh presence of noon suns, river spray from boats, and long hours of toil. Though his skin seems to be the smallest tint of light grey. And always a touch warmer then the local temperature would have you believe. He hair was raven black with subtle streaks of dark grey here or there. His eyes were tired look and of raven hue too.

Keeps to wearing a stone grey hooded cloak. A black vest over deep oaken toned tunic. Long black pants and keen high boots of deep green leather. His garbs and belts has a number of pockets and pouches. His rugged but cared for garb looks ready to face cold harsh storms if ever one peaks at him over the horizon.

His face held an almost constant tired expression. Almost already to endure the present pressure or toil at the moment, before fate handed him another cauldron full of the same. Perhaps he would make good friends with a donkey with a nailed on tail.

He was adopted by his 'uncle'. Not his real blood relative. But a wizard who had ambitious dreams for himself. More aimed for a position of a mage guild with glory and high salary. But a mix of arrogance and a lack of soft-skills, said uncle found themselves unable to move forward with those dreams.

Thus his uncle, unable to manifest those wants and desires for themselves, decides he would raise someone younger to attain his dreams for him. To get such a position, but give himself the rewards of that position.

He found an orphan boy. The orphanage said the boy was some kind of human 'mutt' ... holding no surface features that would pin-point him from any peoples or regions of the area (though unknown to all, including himself, he was a lesser para dust genasi). His uncle named him Karlvin Kitpalm. Not sharing his uncle's clan name of course. A cruel silent joke for he was but a useful 'kit' of tools and controlled in the palm of his uncle's hands.

For 18 years, Karlvin was treated cruelly, harshly, mercilessly. As if he was the 'Cinderella' of his own fairy-tale, but his life was nothing but. Made to all chores and labor for his uncle. But also made to study tomes and tomes of books devoted to magical knowledge as well. Never ever given enough time to sleep, food to eat, or cloth ever to cover his back or keep warm in the cellar he was jailed in.

For a year, Karlvin was allowed to venture through the streets of his Uncle home-city. To deliver mail and parcels, collect the same, and any other tasks that surely a mule and a wagon should attend to, but it was only his back was tasked to complete.