[hider=Onarr] [center][h2][u] Onarr Yidlob[/u][/h2] [img]https://i.imgur.com/YxihL0N.jpg?1[/img][/center] [b][center] " Knowledge is key, but what have you sods done with it? Hoarded it all to yourselves, treasuring it for generations like the wyrms of yore my father told me about. So, help me by Shune's light, if I have to hear one of you snobs preaching at me again about the sanctity of magic, I'll shove my bascinet up your arsehole." [/center][/b] [center][h3][b] 15 | Male | Joruman | Artisan | 8 [/b] [/h3][/center] [h3][u]P E R S O N A L I T Y [/u][/h3] [indent] ❖ [Sarcastic] ❖ [Altruistic] ❖ [Visionary] ❖ [Studious] ❖ [Regretful] Proud, quick with sarcastic barbs and having an almost fetishistic tendency to wear his bascinet no matter the situation, Onarr's witticisms and quirky habits disguise a highly inventive mind that constantly races with countless theories and conjectures about every facet of the natural sciences and the Five Magics. This primarily stems from exposure to a potent combination of Stresian philosophy from his mother and the emerging school of New Rationality which was birthed in the Republic of Joru. It is such that he can find himself entering fugue states for days on end, stuck in his laboratory with little to no human communication. However, beneath his thirst for invention and progress, Onarr is primarily an individual who seeks knowledge for the sake of benefiting the many, most notably his family and his younger siblings. As such, he has a notable distaste for nobles and those of higher stature, looking down upon them as anti-intellectuals that have purposefully obstructed the teaching of the Gift to the vast majority of the lower classes. His observation of the strife between the Republic of Joru and the Empire of Belgazzir have also made him extremely suspicious of any matter involving military affairs, believing that the Gift should be used for the benefit of study instead of being used to erect mass graves across Constantina. [/indent] [h3][u]C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E [/u][/h3] With the assistance of his heirloom pig-steel bascinet, Onarr easily reaches the shoulders of the tallest adolescent bachelors in the Ersand'Enise. Without his bascinet, however, Onarr is liable to drown himself at the shallow end of any pond if he is not cautious enough. He compliments his most emblematic fashion accessory with a yellow-dyed leather cloak, a linen shirt and rawhide leather boots. When he's not in his mage apparel, Onarr typically wears simple practical vestments made of cloth, camel leather and roughspun flax Underneath his helm, Onarr believes he looks likes the spawn of a fishmonger and an emaciated moose. However, the reality is far less horrifying for this adolescent than he truly believes. Onarr's dark skin is pocketed with burn scars and raised welts from his childhood misadventures involving the unlimited power of lightning. His left eyebrow has been completely singed off alongside his right sideburns and most of his hair, leaving a solitary chestnut mop in place. His dimpled smile and mischievous grin still remain, however. [h3][u]L A N G U A G E S [/u][/h3] His time spent under the tutelage of the local Stresian order in Joru and operating his father's smithy has bequeathed him with the budding talents of an multi-linguistic. He is fluent and well-versed in his local dialects of Joruban alongside two or three common dialects of Belzaggic. No matter his attempts at trying, Mezogolese has escaped his grasp, only having managed a rudimentary intermediate level consisting of a creole of several dialects. Additionally, he has academic understanding of various Avinician dialects, although he prefers to use the most common form used throughout Constantina. Onarr doesn't prefer to admit this to anyone but he also knows various swear words, slang, insults, innuendos and profanity picked up from his father's customers in over a dozen languages from Yasoi to Rettanese. [h3][u]T H E G I F T [/u][/h3] Onarr's talents lie in the school of magnet magic, being considerably more versed and creative in its use than other students of his age, thanks to his blessed Thunderchild lineage from his mother and a decade of practice underneath the tutors of the Stresian Order and a six moon apprenticeship under Dioha, the Magnet Master of the local Joru Mage Guild. He prefers drawing on chemical and arcane sources to perform his magnetic magic and can draw on ambient environmental charge in a pinch if he needs to. His most accomplished recorded feats in the Joru Stresian Order are his ability to mimic other schools of magic through ingenuity and application of scientific theory. His most famous (and often destructive) discovery which earned him entry into Ersand'Enise is what he refers to as "The Phlogiston Pummel". His other, less memorable (but no less academically important to the annals of Stresian journals) feats include increasing the temperature of objects by focusing current through them, managing to levitate 1 feet in the air courtesy of his helmet and manipulation of his own skeletal muscle neurons via conduction of bio-electricity. However, in spite of his aptitude in magnet magic, no one has ever seen Onarr throw a visible bolt of lightning or channel any lightning spells since he was 8. The excuses provided by Onarr are always changing and always performed with a stretched smile that nobody can see. Onarr's other preferred school of magic is the art of Chemical Magic. He does not possess a natural talent for it but thanks to countless drills enforced by him in Dioha and endless nights of sifting through dusty tomes, he is what many in the art would consider an excellent user. he mainly focuses on applying it in a utilitarian manner in most of his experiments and for his own cooking. He is woefully out of practice, much to his embarassment, when it comes to the art of applying chemical magic in combat. His father has also attempted to impart some of his talents in Arcane magic to Onarr, much to both of their frustration. He has only managed to learn several basic cantrips which were rudimentary enough to assist his father in the smithy. [h3][u]B A C K G R O U N D [/u][/h3] [i] [i]Somnes the 24th, Dami-Zept 53[/i] Finally, I have some time to myself to reflect in peace. Dahoi always told me that a good mage always writes at the end of the day, but, alas steady decks are impossible to find when you embark on the Constantin seas. Being on land is far more preferable to suffering from sea-sickness. The road to Revedia is a long one but perchance, I found a yam farmer willing to ferry me to the border of where Ersand'Enise is supposedly located. There were many reasons that factored into my decision: namely, the sturdy breed of famed albino Revidian steeds that he has tamed, the excellent craftsmanship of his ride and miraculously, his recipe for baked sliver yams that I must try again on the morrow once I finish writing. I find myself in recent times reflecting on where it all began. It is important that I retrace my steps now, lest, I lose sight of my past at Ersand'Enise. I reckon too many mages forget where they came from and how they became who they were now. Father tries to deny it but the blood business of war bade him to travel from Eskand to the ports of the Republic of Joru. He gambled his savings and I suppose it paid off. Lucky him. Most people of his station would have died had they attempted that endeavor. Volu, a principality of Jeru, had fallen to a combination of Belzaggic economic pressure and hired sell-sword companies. The carrion fields, rich with steel and sliver, were ripe to be reforged by blacksmiths and were in demand by the various principalities of Joru. Joru was not the Joru it is now. It was untamed, feral with new ideas that blossomed into the embers of the revolution, rich and stoked by the aggression of the Belzaggic neighbours. This flame, wild and intoxicating, attracted various groups like moths to candle-light. It was how my father met my mother. She was a Stresian philosipher from East Constantina and was part of a missionary group to Joru. My father won't tell me much of the details but their first encounter, if I remember correctly, was a theological argument over the existence of Shune. What followed after that were more vigorous arguments in the privacy of their bed-chambers. And that was how I and eventually, Aldrr, were born. I scarcely remembered when I first manifested the Gift. Mother says it was on the midseason of Stresia, on a rainy day, that I cried and a lightning bolt split the willow tree in front of our house in twain. Father says it was when he tried to spank me for being a little shit for trying to touch the coals and I sent him to the apothecary with a headache. Needless to say, I was attracted to the art of magnetry. I wouldn't discover why until I visited a sanctioned body chemist mage in the Stresian guild but it was the primacy of it, the chaotic energy flowing and ebbing all around me. I moved my first nail when I was five and eventually graduated to anvils at the seven. Father wanted me to be enrolled at the Iluran Public Academy in Joru whilst Mother wanted me to study under the Stresian Philosiphers. One was worried I was going to end up becoming a preacher whilst the other was worried that I was going to be lost in a tide of other gifted children like me. So, I chose both. Past that decision, I remember little but cherished memories that I have. I can't tell which ones were my favorite. When I wrote my first disassertion of Kurtz's theories of ferrous magnetism at nine? When I won my local Ziggurtal spitting competition? When I kissed an apple farmer's daughter and was chased out of her father's orchards? If I were to write them all, it would take several days. [s]I wish Aldrr[/s] Ersand'Enise took immediate notice of my publications when I was 13. They sent one of their Zenos to observe me and within a year, I received my invitation to study at the academy. The rest is history and that is how I am currently stranded halfway across Revedia with the present company of yam farmers. Supper awaits me now. I wonder how they make those baked yams so chewy..... [/i] [h3][u]M O T I V A T I O N [/u][/h3] Onarr's motivation is the progression of science underneath the auspices of the Five Magics and using its developments to assist and enlighten the people of Constantina, no matter the cost to himself. He believes that the hallowed halls of Ersand'Enisem, its parties, its ancient tomes [s]and the local Zigguretal spitting scene[/s] will help him in his endeavor to help both his family and humanity as a whole. He has considerably mixed feelings towards the institutions of the Quentic Faith, viewing those of Shune in a fairer light than those of the others. In his own words, most Quentic religious institutions are "barmy cults of the Old Gods made anew who only serve to pilfer gold from those who have little and prop up the satchels of the unfaithful". [h3][u]I N V E N T O R Y [/u][/h3] On his person, Onarr's always wears his triple-forged fabulous steel cone bascinet which acts as the primary focus of his magnetic magicks. Many attempts have been made by his tutors and his family to replace the helmet with a traditional rod of castle-forged steel or brass that magnet mages use but Onar stubbornly refuses, claiming that the dimensions of his helmet help in the conduction of ambient currents (Or whatever excuse he wants to make). Other foci that he uses are a oil wick lantern for the Arcane School of Magic and a elm spoon for the Chemical School of Magic. Onarr's other belongings include..... - A bag of Zigurattal seeds, freshly harvested and cured. - A set of smithing tools - A poultice of whale oil - A pickled salmon wrapped in clam cloth - A Shune phycaletery necklace given to him by his Mother - A personal journal with charcoal - Various tomes about the natural sciences and the Five Magics - A pouch of sea salt, red pepper and dried Joru root - A set of magnifying glasses [h3][u]S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S [/u][/h3] [indent]❖ Skilled smith under the tutelage of his father. Has the calluses to prove it. ❖ Stressian junior philosopher and scholar. Recognized as an aspirant of the School of Magnetism. ❖ Versed in cooking Joru and Constantin cuisine. ❖ Ziggurtal Spitting Afficionado* ❖ Fleet-footed from time playing tag with Aldrr in Joru's forests. [/indent] [h3][u]W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S [/u][/h3] [indent] ❖ High Strung Temperament ❖ Zealot of Science/Extremely Suspicious Of Religion In General ❖ Stubborn ❖ Highly recalcitrant towards usage of spells on living beings ❖ Phobia of Great Gulls ❖ [s]Issues With Being Vertically Challenged[/s] [/indent] [h3][u]M I S C E L L A N E O U S [/u][/h3] *[b][u]THE RULES OF ZIGURATTAL SPITTING ABRIDGED[/u][/b] Zigurattal Spitting is a sport originating from the ancient tribes that originally formed Belzagg and has since been modernized, changed and has split into various sub-types across the continent of Severa. The gambling scene on Zigurattal Spitting rivals that of ostrich jousting and the Alchemist's Award. Several prominent Belzaggic nobles have promoted the sport and have engaged in it. The Republic of Joru has attempted to ban the sport on more than one occasion but after the appearance of illegal zigurattal spitting scenes, numerous protests and various letters of concerns from apothecaries about exposure to toxic crops of zigurattal, the republic has since legalized it. Zigurattal spitting revolves around the Zigarattal bean which is grown in the south of East Severa. It is notoriously fickle to grow and can only be harvested once a year. The bean is heated to remove the outer shell and a striped green seed is removed from the core. This is the Zigurattal, the core of Zigurattal spitting, and has several properties which distinguish it from other seeds. Of note by scholars, Zigurattal seeds possess a mixture of elasticity and brittleness, having parallel capabilities to that of a rubber ball. However, upon reaching a certain number of bounces, Zigurattal seeds lose this property and become extremely fragile, breaking upon impact. It has been the subject of scholar's debate for centuries over what causes this to occur. Due to its small size, the only way to achieve locomotion with the Zigurattal seed is to use one's mouth to launch the seed. Zigurattal Spitting is typically operated with a total of 3 competitors standing 20 paces away from a series of 50 differently colored wooden posts. Different colors correlate to different amounts of points, with red being the lowest and gold being the highest. Players must take turns spitting and hitting these posts to collect the most amount of points. Skilled players are able to bounce their seeds between multiple posts. However this runs the risk of breaking the Zigurattal, leading to what is known as a "crack". Therefore, players must manage the durability of their chosen Zigurattal and how many points they want to accumulate. [/hider]