Name: Sigmund "Sig" O'Welles
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Age: 19
Room Number: -TBD-
Rooming With: -TBD-
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance:
Roughly 5'7'', 120 lbs at best. Not a terribly
imposing figure, but that's just the way it is.
Personality:
At first brush, you might assume Sig is
on something, or perhaps
should be on something he has neglected to take. Ditzy, forgetful, and just a touch manic, years of coping with his abilities have made him into a young man not quite attached to what happens around him.
Despite this he is ultimately a friendly and well-meaning individual. Quick with a smile and a laugh, he's certainly one to make friends before enemies. He has a low tolerance for aggressive and domineering people, though it isn't often he's bothered enough to engage in confrontation or otherwise rock the boat.
Bio:
Sig often worries about the holes in his memory.
He had parents, of that at least he could be sure. Who they were and where they might be now are simply two more questions to add to the list of "Things Sig could not tell you if his life depended on it"
Was it possible he had a brother as well? He could sketch vague memories of running along rolling, grassy hills with a boy not much older than himself, with gray eyes much like his own. Sig is certain he had at least
some of these things.
He is also certain something terrible happened. He would like to think it was something he tried to prevent. A voice in his heart whispers that it may have been his fault.
Whatever the case may be, Sig's earliest memories start a scant six years ago. A lost, ragged urchin, gibbering in filthy alleys and surviving on half rotten scraps scavenged from the trash piles he also frequently slept in. He dearly wished he knew just how long he had lived like this, lost in a world of wailing faces and nightmares.
An old man pulled him up from the wreckage of his own mind. Despite all that Sig has forgotten, he remembers that smiling face and the strong, leathern hand that reached out to him through the gloom. He remembers the first words Attis Mallory ever spoke to him:
"Son? You look like you need help."
Attis, an aging spiritualist, was everything a bent (but not quite broken) young wizard could have asked for. Sig learned how to control his own mind, to respect his power and the effect it had on him. Ways to mitigate to pain and confusion that plagued him. Sig's time with his mentor would be comparatively brief, but it would serve to nearly put him back together.
After his mentor's recent passing, Sig has set out to reach the Academy in the hope that he might develop his power further. With luck, perhaps he could find the key that would recover everything all his soul has lost.
Power 1:
Spectramancy: Sig utilizes the ambient energy of the dead to drive his magic, specifically the omnipresent "spiritual residue" left behind by all that has once had a mortal form. By harnessing and controlling the latent power of these "ghosts", he can achieve a number of anomalous effects, from moving objects to obscuring his presence. He can also manifest these entities into physical form to enact his will, and even take them into his own body to access their memories and skills: Channeling a skilled martial artist, for example, would temporally make him a formidable hand-to-hand combatant. He can utilize animal spirits in a similar way, generally using them to heighten his senses or physical strength.
It is very difficult for him to control "natural" spirits, such as elementals. The primal nature of such beings makes them highly unpredictable in their application. Demons and divines present many difficulties as well, as he is unable to affect them while they are bound in a physical form, but it is possible for him to influence them as long as they exist in a metaphysical state.
The Obdurate Mind: A byproduct of his primary ability, Sig is nearly impossible to influence spiritually, mentally, or emotionally by magical means. Empaths, mind-readers, invading entities and the like would find his mind to be a slippery, obstinate thing that is exceedingly difficult to get a metaphorical hold on, let alone dominate.
Likes: Social environments, intoxicating substances, ghost stories, small animals
Dislikes: Unprovoked violence, being manipulated, early mornings, authority figures
Family: Possibly
Friends: None living
Sentimental Attachment: An obsidian ceremonial knife, left to him by his late mentor.
Weapon: While he has no traditional weapon, he does carry a number of bones (human, animal, and otherwise) fashioned into various charms. These objects help him more easily tune himself to spirits.
Other: Sig speaks with a faint Irish brogue
