Fire of Air.
Rapier wit and dashing style, a Musketeer who’s a boon companion in adversity. Riding a dark bird before the storm, heralding its coming. He slices through Gordian knots with decisive suddenness, striking through to the core – or does he slash vainly at the edges of the problem, never finding its truth? Wild and acrobatic, even balletic: he’s Fred, wanna be Ginger?
The most intellectual of the Chevaliers, he’s using a thin sword designed for precision pinpoint attacks, relying on his speed and his skill at parrying to defend himself. Quite the swashbuckler, he’s as likely to score points on his opponent with an insult as with his rapier. Perhaps he grows up to become the King of Pentacles, spinning stories about the wild adventures of his youth. Or perhaps he misjudges, gets into something he can’t clever his way out of, and dies tomorrow.
In comic-books, this guy is Spider-man. He lives on his wits, reflexes, and luck. He’ll probably die on them someday too, if he doesn’t admit it when he starts to slow down.
Of course, he might not be a hero. All that dashing and dexterity makes for a damn fine pickpocket or cardsharp or conman, too. Check your pockets after that smoldering kiss.