[hider=Astrophel Leavitt]
[b]Name:[/b] Astrophel "Aster" Efstathios Leavitt
[b]Race:[/b] Human
[b]Title:[/b] None
[b]Age:[/b] 23

[b]Appearance:[/b] 
[indent]Standing at six feet and three inches tall, Astrophel would cut an imposing figure if he made any effort at strengthening his physique. Instead he maintains a silhouette best described as "beanpole." His strength and endurance are adequate enough to wander about in his way, accustomed to hiking steep inclines and long days of travel by foot. This intimidation factor is lessened even further by his soft features and warm, easy smile. Wide cheekbones, full cheeks, and a small chin contribute to his rounded face. His eyes are almond shaped and hazel-green in color. Medium brown skin provides him protection from sunburn, but areas of his face and arms are visibly darkened and freckled from exposure. Dull strawberry blond hair, when untied from the usual bun, falls just above his shoulders in badly chopped layers, obviously self-administered.  

Peeking from behind frontward locks of hair too short to be swept into the back, glittering silver earrings can be seen. A similar silver clasps a short purple hooded cape around his shoulders, embroidered with silver thread. His boots, made of soft leather, are similarly embroidered, but with red roses. The rest of his clothing is unremarkable and changed often as he stops into a new town, except for the small personal embroideries abound.
 
With him at all times is his rucksack, often tucked under his cape during travel, giving him a hunchback appearance. His strange juxtaposed clothing proclaims, "This noble man likes to appear down to earth!" Rather, he often discards his clothing in favor of new ones, but despite the obvious heirloom status of his jewelry and cloak, Astrophel operates on a severely limited financial budget. [/indent]

[b]Personality:[/b] 
[indent]One might question what led Astrophel, an aspiring poet with a battle-shy nature and little combat skills, to become an adventurer. That one may even be Astrophel himself, most times. Certainly there is the allure of good stories, tales of heroic acts and near death experiences are great to write about, if Aster were the type to write (he prefers the oral tradition.) There is also his meager magical ability, which offers an asset among a group, but is of little use in solo adventuring. In fact, Aster has very little true adventuring experience under his belt, mostly due to not being able to find a group willing to suffer his presence for more than a week. 

Upon first meeting, Aster seems almost pleasant, if not for the long-winded prose he speaks. For the more philosophically inclined, he might even be charming. The man is compassionate and sensitive to the needs of others, the kind of gentle soul that ends up broke and bloodied after helping a stranger (read: bandit) search for her lost ring in a dark alleyway.

Like many in Drasil, Astrophel bears a rather grim past. For this, and "poetic inspiration", he turns to drink. This is usually the catalyst that drives him from any adventuring group he joins, as Aster gets exceedingly emotional when exposed to alcohol. Often he can be found away from the group openly weeping at the beauty of nature, or the futility of human connection, depending on his mood, with an empty bottle of wine in his lap.[/indent]
 
[b]Abilities:[/b] 
[indent]Astrophel is an exceedingly untalented True Mage. He has minor healing abilities, but his inability to read magical texts and the impact of his Throes leave him underpracticed. He has studied some non-magical medicine to supplement his skills, and as such is a more gifted medic than a magician. Most of his spells go as far as preventing exsanguination, but internal injuries are significantly harder. He is almost completely helpless against severe organ damage, his best in these scenarios is to simply dull the pain and ease the passing. 

As a consequence of using his magic, Aster is overwhelmed by confusion. This means that he cannot sustain a spell, as after five minutes he becomes too disoriented to perform magic at all. The stronger of his healing spells can leave him without direction for hours, and impede his balance and body movement. [/indent]

[b]History:[/b] 
[indent]Born to a well-off merchant family in Western Drasil, Astrophel grew up among mages. His mother, a gifted seamstress and runewielder, made a life for her family by selling magically imbued garments to the wealthy. His father was absent often, travelling far and wide on business, returning with heaps of valuable fabrics and thread. Though his mother tried to pass on the runewielding talent to her son, Astrophel discovered early that reading took a great deal of effort for little gain, and his mother's books seemed more daunting than the silhouette of the grand Arcana Demense fortress that shadowed his town. 

The letters seemed to leap about on the page, never where he thought they should be. He would read a page of nonsense, and try again only to get [i]different nonsense[/i]. Frustrated, the young Aster gave up on following in his mother's footsteps, though his fascination with needlework flourished still.
His mother's magical ability lay mostly in glamours, which made her a favorite among nobles who wanted to stay one step ahead of the fashion trends. However, this closeness with the Void, the field of magic responsible for the misdirection required in glamours, took a toll on the woman. A brutal sickness in Aster's fourth year had cost her the use of her legs, and her marriage to Aster's father was fraught with separation and unhappiness. These deep, long-standing pains coalesced into a Shadow.

Aster spent his early life tending dutifully to his beloved mother. On full moons he would unquestioningly help her upstairs into a secure room, where she would battle her Self alone. His mother took great pains to hide her "ailment" from his father. In his teens Aster did poorly in the school his father sent him to, where he found no sympathy for his learning disability. His father, not around to see the suffering of his wife and child, pressed for Aster to continue his learning. Eventually he caved against his son's pleas, and Aster's father withdrew him from the expensive schooling.

It was not until the age of fourteen that Astrophel discovered his latent ability. He kept the knowledge from his father, where absence had forged a valley between them. But upon hearing of it, his mother sent for his grandfather, who he soon learned was also a True Mage. His grandfather, a widower, came to live with Aster and his family, for the purpose of training the boy in a way he would understand- demonstration. From his grandfather Aster learned what he could of healing magic, though his ability was no match for the stronger mage. 
When he was seventeen, on the night of a full moon, his mother's Shadow won out, breaking out from the secure room. Fueled by the magic in her bloodline, and now released with full force by her Shadow Self, the woman regained the use of her legs and was free to terrorize the town. She was eventually slain by a group of passing adventurers, but not before killing fifteen people. Among the dead were Aster's father and grandfather, whose deaths Astrophel had witnessed firsthand.

Traumatized, Aster went to stay with his father's parents in Essia. The memories of his mother's Shadow were quickly repressed, and Aster remembered very little of what had transpired. What fragments still remained plagued him in his bed, flashbacks infiltrating his dreams. He sought comfort in the many fascinating tales around him. People watching became his favorite hobby in the capital city. However his restlessness got the best of him, and he lasted little over a year before setting out to travel the kingdom. 
Since, he has counted himself a temporary member among a number of travelling groups- merchants, bards, adventurers. Along these journeys he makes note of what he sees, and spins the tales to the next group he encounters. Occasionally he puts ink to paper and writes these stories down, but often his penmanship is unreadable even to himself, and these written accounts are of little use. His group of three months had just abandoned him at the Stone of the Nine when a mysterious figure appeared, depositing two strange gifts... [/indent]
[/hider]