Blackpowder Saltpeter is a human sorcerer and a mischievous member of Bromocorah Inc., his pyromaniac impulses and penchant for deception adding a fiery, chaotic edge to the guild. Standing at 5’9”, Blackpowder has a wiry, slightly hunched frame, his movements quick and jittery as if he’s always on the verge of setting something ablaze. His pale skin is smudged with soot and faint burn marks, a testament to his fiery habits, and his wild, ash-gray hair sticks out in all directions, singed at the tips from his own magic. His dark brown eyes glint with a mix of glee and cunning, often darting around as he concocts his next trick, and a crooked smirk is almost always plastered on his face, especially when he’s convincing someone his magic isn’t magic at all.
Blackpowder’s attire is a patchwork of practicality and chaos, reflecting his impulsive nature. He wears a tattered, dark red coat with charred edges, its pockets stuffed with flint, tinder, and small vials of oil—tools he claims are for “natural fire-starting.” Underneath, a faded black shirt and patched trousers hang loosely on his frame, paired with scuffed boots that leave faint scorch marks wherever he walks. A wide, leather belt holds a dagger and a small satchel of spell components, though he insists they’re “just herbs for cooking.” Around his neck, a thin chain holds a blackened pendant shaped like a flame, a subtle nod to his sorcerous bloodline that he claims is “just a lucky charm.” His hands are constantly fidgeting, often sparking with faint embers he quickly hides, pretending they’re from a match he “forgot” to extinguish.
As a sorcerer, Blackpowder’s magic is volatile and fire-focused, his impulses driving him to burn things at the slightest provocation—whether it’s a bandit camp, a pile of leaves, or, once, Tamago’s scarf during a “demonstration.” What sets him apart is his insistence on tricking people into thinking his magic is entirely natural, with no spellcasting involved. He’ll set a tree ablaze with a flick of his wrist, then claim it was “just a lightning strike—nature’s fury, you know!” or ignite a foe’s armor and insist, “Must’ve been some oil on them, sparked right up!” He adamantly denies being a spellcaster, even to his guildmates, often saying, “Magic? Me? Nah, I’m just good with fire—old family trick!” Despite his denials, his magic is undeniable, capable of summoning roaring flames, explosive bursts, or even a shimmering heat mirage to confuse enemies, all while he grins and attributes it to “perfectly natural causes.”