I'm certain there are ways I could have made this a better read. There wasn't much to say as far as history goes without putting it in first person, but don't worry, I type in third-person. >_< Hope the magic works... Aaaand the backstory kinda teases on something I was talking to SilverDawn about regarding being one of the first quest-givers, assuming it pads out. Of course, I'm willing to change anything to better fit. [hider=Ahnciel][center][img]http://orig14.deviantart.net/e36d/f/2015/195/6/c/6ce05e7862e2f60d530c0bc6a432ce58-d8mne9w.png[/img] [hr][hr] [u][b]Name[/b][/u] Ahnciel [color=gray](No last name)[/color] [u][b]Alias(es)[/b][/u] 'Ahnci' [u][b]Gender[/b][/u] Androgynous, male-pronouns [u][b]Race[/b][/u] Chimeric Homunculus [u][b]Age[/b][/u] Appears late teens / early twenties [u][b]Rank[/b][/u] -Currently Unranked- [u][b]Personality[/b][/u] Ahnci is soft spoken and often comes off as timid, though he has developed a nasty habit of 'fear biting'. He is inexperienced with the world and is often seen as naive or even foolish, though has enough street smarts and common sense to avoid dangerous situations if possible. Repeated abuse has worn down any love he would have towards humans as well as inherent disposition, leaving him almost seeming 'hollow' at times. Outside of this, Ahnci is excitable and eccentric when expressing emotions. Curious of this new world outside of servitude, he has a distinct fascination with the accumulation of knowledge and an abstract method of defining experiences and that which he witnesses in an almost poetic way. Ahnci means well, believing in the good in the world but what with murder and theft working out for him so far, hes morally gray as far as problem solving goes. [u][b]History[/b][/u] [color=8882be]Speaking ill of the dead is not my intention, as they are gone and cannot hear my words no matter how loud I scream. Existence came as suddenly as one would wake from sleep, and all I knew since then has been one nightmare after the other. It begins with a monster of a man and his monster of a son and ends with both of them dead for their vileness. There would have likely been more, but I was smart enough to know when it was time to leave. I had spent maybe a day on the run before coming across the perfect place to rest. Unbeknownst to me, the crate of linins was bound to be transferred by boat to destinations unknown to me. Wherever it was, the ship would not reach it as the force of a storm toppled the craft. To this day, I'm not entirely certain how I survived. I dreamt of a creature within the darkness of the waves who came to my aid, massive as the shore as black as night. Though it did not speak, we came to an understanding that my mortality was left to its mercy and that it had no interest in my soul at that moment. Though I did not hear it speak, I knew words which it etched into my mind; formless syllables and cryptic verses whose very recollection brought power through even the vaguest attempts to pronounce them. ...Existence returned to me as suddenly as one would wake from sleep, dashed upon the shore with the corpses of sailors and passengers as well as their cargo. Understanding the value of coin, I rummaged for what I could fill my pockets with, though I knew nothing regarding what it could be spent on. Monsters had the same idea in mind and I was forced to flee with a small collection of coin, baubles, my cloak and a single shortsword. It was a shame to abandon the quantity of goods, but surely someone would be interested in the knowledge of it, right? As much as I hate to admit it, I may need help collecting the old master's crossbow from the monsters...and the collected coin may have use, after all.[/color] [u][b]Mahjikose[/b][/u] Prayers offered to his dark savior whom Ahnci knows only as 'The Fish' are returned with a creeping understanding of the cold abyss. The magic manifests as a physical force composed of wires and hooks intended to harry, maim and bind victims. However, good intentions have controlled this nightmare ink to serve the purpose of keenly suturing and binding wounds, infusing injury with wild essence that stabilizes when united with life force. The result is swift first aid and accelerated healing that snuffs scars...assuming the subject can deal with stitches. The other half of these boons is a mild manipulation of ice magics. The weak and aura-based spells usually come in the form of conjuring a cloud of frigid fog for obscuring vision and distracting those who enter it with rapidly accumulating frost or freezing small patches of water. Mainly, the focus of the magic is to offer utility and award creativity. [u][b]Skills[/b][/u] Ahnci's small, slim, lithe stature allow ease for fitting into small spaces, hiding or avoiding being struck (With varying success. Boot-sized bruises still linger from recent abuse prior to escape). Standing at roughly 4'10", he is anything but imposing, though he still retains knowledge of 'training' as the duke's son's 'sparring partner', so to speak. His style of fighting is highly undisciplined and leans more towards ambush tactics and cheap shots. Average at fighting defensively. Leading up to his escape, Luciel had plenty of practice in picking locks to undo his binds. However, magical locks are currently beyond his expertise. Animalistic splices left him with discerning cat-like eyes able to see reasonably well in low-light conditions. Additionally, he sports pronounced upper and lower K9s and a determined bite would certainly hurt. [u][b]Equipment[/b][/u] 1 steel shortsword treated to be rust resistant but still common class. A cloak shoddily crafted from a thick portion of a now tattered tapestry. It serves as common-class light armor and likely belonged to a prestigious lineage in some distant land. A simple pocketwatch, two ornate rings too big for him to wear...likely stolen. A keyring holding various pieces of slim metal beaten into the shape of a makeshift lockpick set ('common' class). Two flasks found at the scene of the wreck which Luciel assumed was water until getting his first taste, their contents seem to serve well for aiding in starting fires, though (sailors' rum). About 7 silver in an assortment of coins . [u][b]Anything Else[/b][/u] - Given the region which he learned to speak in, Luciel carries a bit of an accent vhich I vill be inflictink upon readers. On top of this, his linguistics are shoddy at times and the prose with which he speaks is often either over formalized or abstract like internal musings, a testament to the depth of his mistreatment. - Opposed to the nature of the entity he made a pact with, Luciel is a less than impressive swimmer. If anything, he has a bit of hydrophobia for any amount of water more than waist deep. [/center][/hider]