Appearance

Khnurn, while being thousands of years old, has the appearance and physical capabilities of an eighteen-year-old. He stands at a solid 6'2, tall for his time period, but a much more common height in this era. His body is lean and muscular, triangular in shape, and built for endurance rather than speed. His movements are fluid and refined, and his reflexes are much faster than one would expect from a young man of his stature.

His complexion is a bronze tanned one, though the tightened skin around any scars he has, or will earn, show up much paler. Khnurn's eyes are a burning brown with amber flecks and his short hair is a deep black that catches a grayish-brown sheen in the sunlight. When using his abilities, Khurn's eyes turn a bright gold color. On the last cervical vertebrae, where his shoulders meet his neck, is the eye of Ra.

He walks upright and carries himself in a dignified manner. His long strides and confident movements add to a more dominant feel to him; he certainly makes no effort to dissuade such a notion, as it seems that, this way, people leave him alone.

Khnurn has a fairly deep voice, not quite a bass but lower than a tenor. It's smooth and soft enough to be considered a loud murmur. It's a voice that is easy to listen to, lulling and deceptively soft. Hypnotic in the same way as the vibrant, pulsating colors on a deadly animal. He smells of ore and hot metal, but there is a hint of coldness to it as well. Somehow, he always seems to draw the shadows to him, adding a sense of mystery to this young man.

Personality

He is a slow burner -- the coldest kind of the fiery personalities. He does not simply erupt, nor does he build up to an eruption. Khnurn's boiling point skips over the theatrics and goes straight to the part where someone gets burned -- but there was never any warning. Khnurn will be calm and collected throughout the whole ordeal, seemingly unbothered by any fear or havoc he may have wrought.

He is a solitary creature, avoiding others at all costs. While he will do as is needed in the whole idea of "save the world," he will not add any unnecessary chatter. Khnurn is the type to pour his soul into one heroic moment, make sure everyone is safe, and leave without another word.

He uses his more intimidating stature and surly appearance to ward off any idle chatters -- you know the kind. The ones who pop up in the middle of a particularly difficult project to talk for hours in a one-sided conversation over the latest town scandal or the weather or some other irritating subject that Khnurn has no interest in. This young man rarely expresses interest in anything or anyone outside of animals and his bestowed duty, really. Then again, those two latter things are all he really knows. They are his life. He has no time for back-and-forth banter and weather predictions, nor does he have an ear for the latest gossip on what Mr. So-And-So's daughter is up to. He. Does. Not. Care.

Khnurn is quite happy to be on his lonesome. Nobody gets hurt that way, and he is relatively free to do as he pleases. There is no chatter, no bustling crowds, no merchants screaming about their cheap trinkets. It's usually just him and Zahra. In this state, he loses some of his scary exterior and becomes quite eager. He can be almost friendly, even, if caught at the right moment. He is not a bad guy, no matter how hard he tries to portray himself as such. Khnurn is just... very... particular, if you will, with his surroundings. He doesn't want drama or attention, and the way to avoid both of those is to avoid people entirely. Thus, that is exactly what he does.

Relationships

Weapons

He prefers his bow and arrows, but he also has two gold-handled Khopesh. It'll be fun when he discovers guns.

Strengths

+ Physical strength -- he was just born with it. This is somewhat amplified during the day, when his more supernatural abilities are at their most effective.

+ Archery and swordsmanship -- making weapons means he gets to wield them as well; while he is nothing fancy, he is deadly accurate with a bow and not too shabby in close combat.

+ Making people uneasy -- this is more an evasion tactic for him, as he wants to avoid others as much as possible. So, he acts as cold and scary as possible to deter this unwanted attention -- and it works.

Weaknesses

- His abilities are out of his control. Unleashed when his emotions are high or he is anything but relaxed, Khnurn has no idea how to handle them and is often subject to his gift rather than the other way around. It makes it difficult to stay hidden.

- Social interaction is something he wants nothing to do with. He keeps his social life as limited as possible and cannot stand large crowds or babbling chatter; it's too overwhelming with the looming threat of the end of the world. He takes "antisocial" up a notch.

- Khnurn is not the most patient of individuals. While he may not always become violent when he reaches the end of his rope, it will be painfully obvious that he is fed up with someone, and it takes a long time to repair that rope.

Languages

Egyptian || Arabic || English || Some German

Accent

Egyptian, though even some native Egyptians can't quite understand him. It's got the tones and inflections of a much older dialect.

Ragged breaths were his first sensation. Brown eyes opened to meet utter darkness, so thick that it was almost tangible. His hands were pressed against the sides of something rough and cold, and he slowly traced one upwards until he felt the tiniest, weakest breeze flowing in from the top angle. Was he in a box? The muffled sounds of movement outside his container caused the young man to hesitate. Dare he open the lid?

An oddly calm sensation responded, almost reassuring him that whoever -- whatever -- was outside on the other end was not any threat to him. Taking in a breath of the dank air, he placed his hands on the ceiling above his chest and pushed. Stone grated angrily and the dimmest of lights began to filter through. Even that was too much for him, and his pupils contracted even as he squinted. A final heave sent the lid crashing down on the other side and he sat up with a stiff groan.

Khnurn -- yes, that was his name; he remembered that, now -- studied his immediate surroundings with a grimace, pausing at the vague shape of a young woman not far from him. Amunet. No, she didn't like that name. Or did she? Was that even her? Khnurn's head was throbbing, reaching pitifully for a memory he could not quite grasp, clawing at threads of information that dangled just out of reach.

With a scowl, he pulled himself out of the great stone box and looked back down inside. A bow... and Khopesh. He turned to the girl noticed her weaponry as well -- almost identical, save the coloration. Hers was silver, whereas his was gold. With a thoughtfull humm, Khnurn brought a hand to his tousled, dark hair and asked in a voice barely a whisper, "Where are we?"

He felt out of place. It seemed as though the world had gone on without him, but he fit in neither the old world nor the new one. It was a strange feeling, one that he had not expected. Then again, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting in the first place. The only things he knew for certain were that he was tied to the girl next to him and that, somehow, they had to save the world.

"Hurt us? No... No, I don't think so. If they did, I think we would have been dead by now," he said slowly, eyeing the creatures as he did so. Their frames were so still, almost as though they were statues, like those buried with the ancient kings. But these, these dark shapes were alive. While he could not quite tell what they were, he could feel that they were quite aware and even sentient. These guardians were on their side, he was almost certain.

He turned his attention back to Zahra as she asked her questions. Memories still evaded him, though he had the infuriating feeling that he was right on the verge of a breakthrough that would clear his mind and solve a puzzle he wasn't even sure existed. Did the gods send us here? Ah, yes. The gods... Khnurn had shards of memories of the deities. Bast and Sekhment arguing, Horus speaking with Ra, Isis discussing the iminent rise of Apophis. Apophis. That was their mission, no? To stop the snake god? Chaos would be unleashed, causing the end of times. Some called it Armageddon, others Ragnarok. In every culture, the final result was the same: it was the end of the world.

"I remember the gods, I think. At least, their shadows haunt my mind. I see them... yet, I don't. They are everywhere and nowhere, and I cannot understand why," he sighed, voice clearly displaying his frustrations. Khnurn brought his hand back up to his hair, only to drop it again as he caught on to his actions. This was not a time to display stress. He could not be stressed; he was barely three minutes old. Well -- no, he was much older than that, but this latest chapter had only just begun. "I remember things, but I can never recall having left the tomb. Or entering it, for that matter. It's like... like I experienced thousands of lives without living a single one of them."

Well that didn't make any sense. It was the only way he could describe it, though, and Khnurn had the feeling that Zahra knew what he was talking about. After all, they were in the exact situation here. As an afterthought, the young man added, "I know that I... that we... are supposed to be saving the world. I just cannot say how or where or why or when."

Khnurn shook his head, just as lost as she was. As she spoke, it dawned on him that he, too, shared these mixed intelligences. Like her description, his seemed to swim around each other, combining and intertwining until he had to think hard in order to decipher whether a piece of information was of the past or the present. Being from either time period seemed improbable, but here they were. The tomb itself seemed old, yet new at the same time. Everything was in relatively pristine condition, save a scratch or faded letter here or there. Parts looked almost as though they were decaying but doing so unnaturally fast.

"Perhaps... well, I'm not sure we will be able to find out what exactly our purpose is until we leave this place," Khnurn said slowly. His stomach knotted at the thought, and he grimaced. "I am half afraid of what we will find."

The creatures' revelation of the exit seemed extra foreboding then, though the young man could not help but walk forward, albeit with some hesitancy. He placed the Khopesh blades at his side and shouldered the bow and quiver. The longer Khnurn avoided moving forward, the more he felt the urgency within him rise; it was an unsettling feeling, to say the least. With a sharp inhale, he pushed through the doorway and began walking along the narrow corridor, casting his eyes up and down the walls to either side. So many hieroglyphs... He did not stop to read them, though.

"We are in the modern world now, then, correct?" he asked, stopping suddenly. "We are dressed in ancient garb... I think we may be from the past, and I think we will get some very strange looks out there."

Khnurn turned back to look at Zahra. While he did not care much about what others thought of him or his appearance -- at least, he was fairly sure that it didn't affect him -- walking out in a tunic with ancient weapons hanging off of him was sure to catch unwanted attention. How was he supposed to fix that, though?