[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/H9WZI2V.png[/img][color=bc8dbf][h1]Morien of Wyllt[/h1][/color][/center]
[hider=Dr. Hobo Wizard, MD PhD]
[b]Name:[/b] Morien, son of Uthyr, of the village Wyllt
[b]Age:[/b] 25
[b]Race:[/b] Tocadre
[b]Height:[/b] 6'0"
[b]Weight:[/b] 155 lbs
[b]Class:[/b] Wizard
[b]Appearance:[/b] [url=https://i.imgur.com/GYMwejZ.png]Link[/url]
[b]Personality:[/b] Morien is a man with irrepressible ideals, and a habit of experimenting with medicinal substances--which is mostly unrelated to his attitude. He believes that knowledge, magic and other forms of power can and should be applied rather than amassed, and that compassion and reason are the best tools by which to improve the world. With that in mind, it isn't very surprising that his demeanor is like a floating cloud: soft, airy, and susceptible to becoming very dour when the conditions are right.

[b]Biography:[/b] Morien was not always a wizard, nor had he ever dreamed of becoming one. He had always aspired to become a physician like his father; however not for the reasons that would motivate him later in life. 

Throughout his childhood, a reputation for cleverness (or "too clever"-ness, depending on who you ask) followed him, and for good reason: his strong aptitude for learning made for rapid comprehension of complex subject matter, which lead to similarly exceptional application of rudimentary principles. Understandably, his education in medicine would be accelerated, albeit undeniably provincial. Regardless, Morien's life as his father's apprentice would end before he even came of age. 

It was midsummer when the King of Caer Leon and his men passed by Wyllt on their grand hunt. At the time, Morien payed it little mind. The rich and powerful could hunt all the magical beasts they want, but all the village would care for was the brief economic upturn. His disregard would be overturned, however, when they returned. Because during the hunt, the king had been poisoned by an assassin's spear, and it was on Morien and his father to make sure the man survived the night.

...Or rather, it was on Morien alone to make sure the man survived. His father had been drinking with friends that night, and Morien had a hunch he wouldn't have known how to cure it in the first place; the poison used was quite obscure and exotic. But neither exotic nor obscure enough to prevent the erudite young man from putting together the necessary antidote. After ensuring that everything was properly dealt with, the visitors left and Morien thought his life would return to normal.

Of course, he was wrong. The king, who decided Morien's abilities would be a waste so far from "proper" civilization, would send for him some time after to begin an apprenticeship under the royal physician. And that was how the brunt of the peasant's youth would be spent within the deadly and decadent network of Tocadre royalty.

This stage of life would come to an end not long after Morien reached adulthood. It was at this point he'd decided it would be in his best interests to vanish. So he did. He wrote a note, and left to travel the world, freely plying his craft along the way for those who needed it. Morien has been doing so for the better part of six years. He still considers himself indebted to those who uplifted him--his mentor and his former liege--but he knows returning may be difficult.

The final turning point in his life came with news of an excavation gone awry. In the region, an expeditionary group had tried to excavate an ancient, infamous ruin called Benmur. As a result of their actions, disease began to spread across the villages that lay to the south. It left those infected dead, or worse: caught a state of "half-death". 

The plague was bad when Morien got there, and it only got worse as he kept redoubling and redoubling his efforts again and again. The pressure mounted. The bodies piled up. The stress was getting to him. The [i]plague[/i] was getting to him. When he wasn't working futilely, he was praying to whatever would answer. Gods, pseudogods, folk-saints, spirits, demons--none would answer the endless call. Until something did.

One year ago, Morien left behind a quiet field hospital in a dead land. Today he finds himself heading to the north, spurred on by missive issued by his shadowy patron. 

He has been freeloading for the past few weeks.

[b]Hex:[/b] [color=bc8dbf]bc8dbf[/color]
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