FurnaceAppearance: Tall for a gnome, short to anything else. His skin is sickly pale and long straw like white hair has a hint of faded red.
His limbs are scarred with fire and chains. He wears grey rags and a thick leather apron. He is covered in soot and grime.
His jet black eyes suggest his fey herritage, the grey lines under it suggest he hasn't enjoyed much sleep lately, or even ever.
Race: Bleachling GnomeClass: Blight Druid
Main-Hand Weapon: Steel broadsword sized and balanced for an Orcish Warlord.
Off-Hand Weapon: the broadsword is too large for Furnace, so it becomes a two-hander for him.
Secondary Weapon: smiting hammer
Armor: rags and a leather apron
Powers:Immolate: Furnace can naturally burn his own and readily available energy sources. The flames either fan out to scorch everything nearby or concentrate to melt metal. This requires concentration to manifest, but just energy or fuel to maintain.
Enervate: Furnace can force energy to become positively charged, if he infuses this into a living being it heals wounds and energizes the creature.
Animate: He can also force energy to become negatively charged, this has the opposite effect as Enervate does. He doesn't know it, but he can use it to heal undead and temporarily animate corpses.
Skills: Crafting(Forging weapons and industrial tools), spell-craft(specialty: energy flows) , appraise (he can tell the structural integrity and purity of objects and materials, he has no concept of monetary value though.)
Weaknesses: He has never met a real person. Thus he has no idea how anything social works. Everything is new and wondrous to him.
A former slave he has a weak will and no instincts to speak of. He can easily be bullied around and clings to anyone who shows him kindness.
Personality: Annoyingly submissive, unnaturally calm, depressingly accepting, surprisingly hopeful.
ThemesongBackground: At a very young age, before he had a chance to acquire memories or even a name, Furnace was taken from his home in a bandit raid.
The bandits spared his life when they had seen his race's knack for magical fire, so they decided to "raise" him for that purpose.
This meant stick him in a small cell made of stone and devoid of light. The only opening and sliver of light was the entrance to their war furnaces. Which he was forced to keep alive day and night for as long as he could remember. Though he never got to see his captors, just the weapons of war he made, he was able to catch parts of conversations through the roaring blaze. This way he managed to learn the language but not much else. Since they never bothered to name him he concluded his name was Furnace.
Alone and shackled Furnace toiled through in timeless darkness until one day, months, years or decades later a voice spoke from the earth.
"What do you desire child?"He had pointed at the small light at the end of his jail.
"Freedom? One day.."For years to come the voice would come back sporadically and talk to Furnace.
Never did the otherworldly being reveal his origin or goals.
Furnace didn't care. He learned to channel his energy rather than burn it into the air.
He learned of other creatures, races, worlds outside.
And with every bit of knowledge his craving for freedom grew.
The voice always preached
patience.One day there was a loud commotion outside the forge. Screaming and the clash of weapons.
Weapons which sound Furnace recognized, against those he didn't.
Hopefully he dared to let the fires die.
A hand reached into the pit and helped him out, broke the shackles. Furnace was free and blinked as he saw the sun for the first time.
Other: There is a strange creature from other worlds who's taken an interest in Furnace.
