[hider=Ertholt Gotlieb]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/4gfbsoE.png[/img][/center]
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[center][h1][color=778899]Sobriquets:[/color][/h1] 
Hierophant of the Sacred Skies, Saint Pithos (Patera), Seeker Beyond the Heavens, Grand Archivist of Londinion, Sage of Ascents, Wandering Star, Referent, the Spiral Shift.[/center]
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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/GyJzil0.png[/img][/center]
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[center][h1][color=778899]Aspect:[/color][/h1]
[color=778899][b]Chalice[/b][/color], a holy vessel to be filled and imbibed[/center]
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[center][h1][color=778899]World:[/color][/h1] 
Irij exists on the cusp of a golden age, after the fall of the Commune of Lemuria, much was lost to the world as order crumbled in the face of widespread anarchy. Thus was the start of the Age of Ash.

A tragedy on a global scale to be sure, but time heals all wounds, and while the loss of the Lemurians was a grievous one, it too scarred over. Now was the Age of Tinder, a time to rediscover the great many wonders left behind. Wonder and adventure lurked behind every corner for the courageous, and opportunities rose before the particularly conniving.

Ertholt was neither of the two. Like a troll in a particularly small pastry shop, he violently tore his way to the top of the Londinion Archives through a series of daring duels and threats of incredible violence. This meteoric rise in status and ability usurped the natural order of the city and had earned him heavy censure from others. 

Within the year he was ousted from his position to the cheers of many. It became clear, however, after annual cataloging of the contents, that Ertholt had not left empty-handed.

His return after many years was met with silence, as all beings could intuit that he had become something beyond the grasp of humanity. Whispers of his deeds and his presence spread across the world as he was embedded in legend.[/center]
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[center][h1][color=778899]Race:[/color][/h1]
[b]Human[/b][/center]
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[center][h1][color=778899]Legacy:[/color][/h1] 
To practice magic is to try to understand God. Human technique and understanding manipulating divine power to uplift the material world to a higher strata. Such was the practice of magic at it’s core. 

Such a noble goal resonated deeply with many, just as many had coveted the power magic had brought. 

Perhaps if Ertholt were not as talented, nor as driven as he was, he would have disappeared as one of the latter. Crude, brash, and unyielding in behaviour, Ertholt would barrel through both material and member in his mad dash towards enlightenment.

It was unlike the wise careful image of more wisened scholars, much more respected and thought to be more knowledgeable than he was that would place him in the same category as power hungry spellcasters instead of the respected wizard.

Yet he cared not. What did the heavens care if one seemed to be wise and all knowing, when the stars above glimmered without care of the material world below? Only gross matter cared so much for appearances. As someone who yearned to attain the perspective of God, so to shall he discard petty concerns.

That mindset was justification enough for him to become callous in his approach. And so, like a whirlwind he stormed his way into respected archives without care, retrieving legendary grimoires to decipher. Such actions had him exiled and hunted, but he cared not.

For a year he researched and theorized. For two he gathered material. And for five he waited for the perfect time to divine the name of God.

His ascension was glorious.

His arrival was not.

The sight of the ruins of heavens was shocking, before it gave way to disgust. It would only grow the more he learned of the events that had taken place. Like a hermit he sequestered himself away, pondering upon the revelation he had received. It would not take long before he would come to the conclusion that the realm he had found himself on was but another step in his quest. 

And so he sorted his mortal affairs in order, before leaving to further study the celestial realm.[/center]
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[center][h1][color=778899]Might:[/color][/h1] 
He was an existence to be filled, and to pour. A vessel to inhabit, such was his very nature from inception.

The ritual he had partaken of simply amplified that to ludicrous degrees. Metaphysically Ertholt became a point where things gathered and flowed, encompassing all things within himself. A never-full chalice that was likewise never-empty.

In combination with his capabilities as a magician of supreme might, he leverages his own existence in the casting of spells rather than that of the world.[/center]
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[center][h1][color=778899]Path:[/color][/h1]
To become one with God.[/center]
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