Editing Campaign:NEWSPAPER GAEM/Cunning Fox (section)

== Basics ==
*'''Campaign:''' [[NEWSPAPER_GAEM|NEWSPAPER GAEM]]
'''Name:''' Cunning Fox <br/>
'''Concept:''' EDITOR AND MANAGER OF THE YU-SHAN TIMES <br/>
'''Caste:''' Eclipse  <br/>
'''Motivation:''' Control all major outlets of information in Creation (and beyond) <br/>
'''Positive intimacies:''' Well-mannered people. <br/>
'''Negative intimacies:''' <br/>
'''Anima:''' Flickering golden flames tipped with white, constantly pulsating in and out with a low hum  <br/>
'''Experience:''' 0/55 <br/>

=== Background ===
A boy was born on the southern fringes of the inland sea, living in a small trade town known as Kimek - a trade stop between Chiaroscuro and Paragon, known for its abundance of information and news, thanks to the merchants passing through. He was born into one of the richer, more reputable local merchant families, and for his quick and clever ways with words from an early age, he was given the name 'Cunning Fox.' Cunning Fox spent most of his early life learning to read and write, as well as manage business, handle ledgers, and making himself well-behaved among unknown or foreign cultures. 

The night he came of age, Cunning Fox was managing the ledgers, when one of his assistants came barging in. "S-Sir!" 

"Hm? Calm down. What is it?" The young Fox merely adjusted his spectacles, intently focused on his work as his quill casually scratching against the parchment as he recorded the day's income.  

"It's..Arjuf, Sir! One of our trade ships came in, d-didn't have the right permit, so the guards on duty turned them back. On their way out, they, they insulted the officer on duty, and well, he was...." The messenger coughed a bit. 

"Well?" Scritch scratch. 

"A-A Dynast, sir! Cut him down right there for insulting his mother, told the rest that if any of the family had the balls to come back, he'd have 'em arrested and executed!" 

Cunning Fox looked up, quirking a brow interestedly. "Have my ship at Paragon ready come tomorrow afternoon. I'll settle this misunderstanding personally." 

"Sir, they'll-"

"My ship. Have it ready. Go."

As soon as his messenger left, Fox shuffled all the ledgers into a nearby drawer, reaching for a fresh slip of parchment. He dipped his quill again, pondering. A formal Letter of Apology to an Illustrious Dynast of one of the Great Houses of the Realm. Yes, that had a nice ring to it. As he set ink to paper, a sudden burst of gold emanated from his body - a pulsating flame from within, slowly reaching outward with each word he wrote. His words became one with his being, easily flowing outward with delicate finesse and impressive precision. By the time he was done, but a mere half-hour later, he looked over the finished product - perfectly hand-written, without a single error or misstep. There was no need for correction, or revision - the first draft alone was indisputably perfect. Even the ink with which the words were written seemed better than usual. 

The next day, Cunning Fox arrived at Paragon, his ship ready to sail north. He made casual smalltalk with his crew, smiling, laughing, and even drinking: numerous rare pleasures he always reserved for such foreign trips. Every time he looked out to the Inland Sea, though, he felt something. Lifelines. Connections. Things vital to society. Even now, as he traveled, he was mending one. Others were still broken, crying out to be repaired, cut, or even paved over. He could see them, hear them, the delicate ties that kept life flowing. 

He could control them, so long as he could reach out and touch them. 

The next day, his family and representatives were re-allowed into the Realm. Cunning Fox stood at the gates of Paragon, handing several scrolls of instructions to his assistant as he stood by his simhata. "You're handling things in my stead now. Written here is everything you will need to know. I will be returning after Calibration to collect my salary each year - understood?" 

"Yes, Sir. But where are you going?" 

"Here, there. Everywhere. Har'at, I realized something. The world is not controlled by people. The world is controlled by the relationships ''between'' people."

"Uh...huh?" 

"The knot that binds us together has been broken. I can see it. If I can see it, I can fix it. If I can fix it, I can ''control'' it." Cunning Fox grinned.

"So..where do you stat?" Har'at, his assistant, looked puzzled. 

"Somewhere out there, there is a source. A place that all these lines originate from. I will find that place. And that is where I will begin."


=== Appearance ===
Cunning Fox is a tall, lithesome, handsome man, standing at six feet tall, with short, tidy chestnut hair, bearing both a hint of the delicate, almost effeminate features of the Realm's people and the dark skin and sharp, lithe features of the South. The frame of his body is slender and lacks strength, (as many a Lunar would quickly put it, 'girly',) however, his movements carry a notable amount of fluid grace. He clads himself in a rich, gold-colored silk robe, expertly-crafted by the tailors of Yu-Shan and funded with his considerable sums of family income, loose enough to be comfortable but close-fitting enough to avoid feeling or looking too 'baggy' or unkempt. He carries himself with a collective, stern demeanor, the constantly-calculating gaze of his blue eyes seldom giving way to any more than subtle emotion. A pair of ornate, golden bracers are clasped around his forearms, serving both as decoration and a means of self-defense.