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[sub]- - - - (Personal Details)[/sub]
[b]First Name:[/b] Pincy, the Pierrot
[b]Age:[/b] Unknown
[b]Sex:[/b] Male
[b]Home Nation:[/b] Hyznia

[b]Appearance:[/b] 
(I drew a quick sketch! I hope it doesn’t look too rushed… I dunno if I’ll finish it.)
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In all aspects of the word, Pincy is an oddity, from each of his peckish mannerisms, to most especially the way he looks. The faceless man is all things one would expect from a Warlock from the age-stilled Hyznia, perhaps even then some. Standing at a staggering 6’8 ft, approximately 207 centimeters according to other metrics, though this is less than impressive since his girth is practically skeletal. Donned almost entirely in a dress-like black cloak adorned with feathers and strange etchings and an expressionless pale mask, the only telling signs of his humanity are the exposed arms. But even this is questionable. His skin is sickly ashen and layered by blackened tattoos of symbols that band around the lanky limbs, which to the eyes of an ordinary mage, serve an unknown purpose. His eyes mark an eerie mystery about the man, faintly purple glowing orbs within the sockets of the mask, pupil-less, and if not for his occasional blink, there would be no sign of even living.

[b]Personality:[/b] 
Despite his unsettling appearance, Pincy is quite the social and outgoing personality. He can be described as passionate, if not completely carefree, the first to crack a snide joke when a chance presented itself, even in places of danger, often following along with a laugh imbibed with incredible gusto. Perhaps it is for this reason he has earned himself the title of ‘Pierrot’. As a self-proclaimed scholar, Pincy has an unquenchable love for the unknown and mysterious, and the more taboo or widely feared, the more compelled he is to delve deeper to uncover the truth for ‘his own eyes’. He also harbors a fascination that borders obsession when it comes to dreams and nightmares, believing they are a plane of hidden potential in sentient beings.

[b]History:[/b]
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	All humans were once bathed in blood. This was the very first truth he would learn in life, before he was even able to speak or understand all the little things. His birth was laced with screams and crying, but not that of his own. When the ashen baby emerged, it marked the end of the horrific ritual conducted by a coven of deranged warlocks, which had been to create a life that would be able to see through the fabrics of something they dubbed ‘The Waking Dream’ and commune with otherworldly forces. Ripped from the cold dead hands of his sacrificial mother, a young teenage girl adorned atop a mound of grisly carved corpses molded together into that liken of a hellish womb. The baby was, as the cult had worked so hard for, gifted with pale eyes that peered not at what lay before them, but as though far beyond. 

	In simpler terms, the boy as made blind to allow him a greater sense of arcana. But this gift was did not come with it’s own flaws. He was plagued with horrific nightmares and gripped with vivid audible hallucinations that twisted reality into an awful state that he could barely decipher what was in fact real and what was the figment of his traumatized mind. Not to mention the insufferable aching in his head. He would go into episodes of violent rage or extreme emotion, the warlocks locking him alone in a dark cell for whole days, even weeks, until he stopped crying and thrashing about, dragging him out only to resume using him as a medium for their studies into the forbidden and vast unknown planes. 

	Only the occasional dream of a pale moonlit ocean soothed him from the painful headaches and relentless visions, giving him a briefly conjured haven from all the madness. In this place, he was able to meet with his deceased mother whom waited underneath the reflection in the still expanse of water. Welcoming the weary boy into her arms, she would whisper lovely words into his ears to quiet the pain.

But it was only a dream. 

	He would awaken to just another session where they tortured him with magic in order to slip into a painful subconscious state of dreaming where he can relay what he saw and what he heard to them. The boy was nothing but a tool for their enlightenment, but they were not the only ones learning from his sessions with the otherworldly beings. He was gaining control of the terrible power through just the exposure and a cunning plan hatched when he witnessed a pheasant devour a wolf in one of his nightmares. One day, during one of their bloody rites, he tricked them with false knowledge and caused them to be dragged screaming away by creatures even he did not properly understand.

	He burned all that remained of the coven and their rituals, even the other captive slaves, making sure none of the terrible memories survived. He then adopted a new identity, assuming the name of Pincy, the name of the mother he never knew. 
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[b]Occupation:[/b] Diver

[sub]- - - - (Power Matrix)[/sub]
[b]Primary Focus:[/b] Arcane 

[b]Magical Capabilities:[/b]

-[i]Touch of the Cosmos[/i]; An avid lucid dreamer and astral projector, Pincy has traveled to the depths of consciousness and tapped into a place of higher knowledge by listening to the voices of mysterious beings located in the outer planes. He believes that dreams are a place where echoes of consciousness comes and goes, where thoughts and ideas are imprinted like mental signal. Normal minds mistake this for garbled nonsense due to their inability to comprehend it, but he has spend many more years than he is actually alive, as time is never constant during dream state, tirelessly translating bits and pieces into a ‘language’ for him to use. As such, the young mage is an expert on crafting runes and harnessing his power into these mysterious symbols. They act like single-use conduits that allow him to manipulating arcana in ways he is otherwise unable to do himself do to his waning physical health. For basic spells, he will need to draw only a small string of them, but for more advanced spells, he can connect the runes into a complicated diagram for a more powerful effect. This requires much more preparation and time, of course, ranging from hours to sometimes even days to finish.
	--As of this point in his research into the forbidden and unknown, he has a solid grasp regarding most of the [i]unconventional[/i] forms of magic, namely those of witchcraft and spiritualism, from conjuring illusions, to invoking curses, and even ritualistic summoning (just in case). Most of his methods involve indirectly hurting his adversaries, but when the need comes, he can channel a bit of eldritch lighting to zap those who don't respect boundaries.

-[i]Eyes of the Sleepless Dreamer[/i]; Having been born heinously stripped of vision, he developed an uncanny ability to sense things around him by the amount of arcana they exhibit. Not nearly as far as normal eyesight, he is able to sense things all around him. While this may sound powerful, it is many times more sensitive than normal eyes. If one has ever spun around too quickly or watched a screen full of blurry movement up close, the result is often a nasty migraine. This is similar, but much worse, a complete overload of senses. Too much movement detected at once will disorientate him and cause his mind to be wracked in pain.

[b]Weapons and Equipment:[/b]
[i]‘Solace’[/i]; his only weapon and tool, enchanted by countless runes learned from greater beings discovered in his dreams. The weapon serves as both a staff and rather hardy lance. Able to be conjured from the tattoos on his arms, a summoning diagram that reacts only to his own blood, the black lance is a conduit to control his sporadic arcana, otherwise defiant to his command, concentrating the essence to carve unnatural runes onto any surface to be enchanted by his unique arcana. It can be returned with a simple command. 

[b]Specialties:[/b] 
-Has an extensive knowledge regarding forbidden lore for his young age, and is jaded to most horrors that might terrify even the most mentally stable people. 
-No one has ever seen him eat, but he can be found sleeping quite often. 
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