Character Description:
Age: 30
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Origin: Amn
Occupation: Investigator of the occult and mundane, sell sword, monster hunter.
Immediate Family: Carmen Belmonte, daughter. (8)
Monica Belmonte is an extremely short human woman in
her late twenties, to early thirties. Standing at five foot
absolutely nothing, she does not seem overly pleased
about her height, wearing thick heeled leather boots in
an attempt to make up for it. She speaks in the loud and
husky voice of a woman who has smoked many years of
her life, somewhat deep but clear and precise. It carries
a faint accent hinting at somewhere in Amn.
Dressed practically from head to toe, her items of clothing
obviously not being prized possessions being patched and
re-patched in many places. Aside from her coat, of course.
The heavy trench coat she almost always wears or carries
with her when she isn't. It, along with her heavy traveling
boots, are looked after with love. The coat itself seems to
be made from a sturdy kind of reinforced black leather.
Monica takes her work with her, a plethora of odd items
hang from the belts that crisscross her torso beneath the
coat. A row of sharpened wooden stakes, pouches of what
smells like garlic and various other things like salt, several
religious symbols from varying faiths tied into a bundle of
amulets on leather strings and a few other mysterious
things hidden in pouches for quick use.
Chained and strapped firmly to her back over the coat with
strips of faded brown leather wrapped about the base, sits
an obsessively looked after and impressively large Claymore
of sturdy make; that stands taller than she does. A tattered
red strip of cloth is tied around the hilt of the enormous and
violent weapon.
Her body while small, is made up of firm and compact muscle
beneath womanly curves and at a closer look appears to hold
a great deal of strength to it; especially around her shoulders
and arms. The roughness of her small hands is another hint at
a life of hardship and manual work.
There may be some beauty to her features, but the hardened
look of fierce irritation she often wears may be off putting to
some. Her naturally olive skin is offset by a pair of violent pale
scars that slash diagonally across her face, narrowly missing
her left eye. They are long since faded by time.
A shock of dark hair, a mute shade of raven black- hangs
around her lightly tanned face in uneven bangs and throws
shade over wide, deep brown eyes. Moderately long, it
rests just beneath her bust in crudely cut lengths obviously
done by her own hand.
Several piercings adorn her face in the form of four small
gold painted rings in the top of each ear and thicker ones
at the bottom. A similar ring sits in a hole punched through
the left side of her nose, and when she speaks it may
become apparent that one of her back teeth is solid gold.
Every bit of visible skin from her head to her feet appears to
be covered by a mixture of old and new tattoo work, making
her appear as some kind of human canvas. Though stunning
to look at, some of the images could be considered a little
dodgy; while others are works of absolute art.
