Name: Stanley York
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance: A short boy with long, wild brown hair, clothed in a sweater, jeans, and long red winter coat whose buttons have been pulled out and whose coattails are tattered and torn. He has no shoes or socks on. On every part of his skin that is visible strange, hard, vein like things appear the grow under his skin. IN particular his face is framed by them, and upon reaching his scalp they have pushed out to form tree branch like antlers.
Talent: Nature magic. Dealing with plants, animals, and the processes of the natural world come easy for him.
Backstory: Stanly had a bit of a chip on his shoulder. Growing up in a town in the shadow of Widows Peak surrounded by more outdoorsy, rugged peers had given him an immense inferiority complex. A well deserved one, as he was the weakest, slowest, most cowardly boy of his age in the entire county. When hunting season rolled around and the others began bragging of their trophy they'd obtained he made a very poor decision in a effort to prove himself. The others could talk all they wanted of horns and skins, but they would all acknowledge him as the best if he came back with a slice of The Old Man Of The Mountain's beard.
The Old Man Of The Mountain lived atop Widows Peak, in a cave where rumors said he hibernated during the winter. A beastly and terrible wild man, over ten feet tall with a beard like steel wool, who was connected to deep magic. They said he hid behind rocks and kicked hikers off the mountain, transformed trespassers into animals to hunt or trees to give him shade to nap under, and whipped up wild storms by catching clouds, beating them until they were good and mad, and throwing them at the town. Undeterred, knowing that this would get the respect of the whole town, the foolish boy went up the mountain with his fathers axe to hunt.
Stanly didn't fine The Old Man Of The Mountain. The Old Man Of The Mountain found him. The first shattering blow knocked the boy right out of his shoes. The second knocked him out of his socks. Then, with a whoop and a holler, he wrapped the barely conscious Stanly in his beard and leaped back up the mountain.
When Stanly awoke in the mountain cave he given two choice. Either he ate this entire apple, after which the Old Man swore he'd do the boy no harm, or The Old Man would twist off his head and squeeze out his blood to ferment into alcohol. Stanly chose the former. He took the apple and ate it to the last bite, seeds and all. Having his head twisted off would probably have been the less painful choice, because as soon as he finished he felt something growing in him. He screamed in agony and stumble/ran outside to the laughter of the old man, who called after him to pick a spot with a nice view.
The Old Man was surprised when the boy wandered back in three days later during his dinner, dragging his fathers axe with a dead look in his eye. He laughed at this, because nothing had surprised The Old Man Of The Mountain in a long, long time. Slapping his knees as the boy stumbled toward him he sucked in a deep breath and blew like the north wind itself. Stanly was blasted out of the cave and carried somewhere far from home. Far from where he wanted to be, but perhaps fairly close to where he needed to be.
He awoke, blearily, in a forest...
Magic Color and Meaning: Muddy brown. Weak in spirit, but malleable. A magic lacking in confidence.
Primary Source of Magic: Stanly consumed magic seeds from a magic fruit, which grew into a magic tree whose magic roots now permeate his body. He was meant to turn into a tree, but the seeds appear to instead have achieved symbiosis with him.
Other: He can photosynthesize now, but not to the extent that it replaces regular food. He also kept a death grip on that axe through the entire encounter. It means a lot to him.
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance: A short boy with long, wild brown hair, clothed in a sweater, jeans, and long red winter coat whose buttons have been pulled out and whose coattails are tattered and torn. He has no shoes or socks on. On every part of his skin that is visible strange, hard, vein like things appear the grow under his skin. IN particular his face is framed by them, and upon reaching his scalp they have pushed out to form tree branch like antlers.
Talent: Nature magic. Dealing with plants, animals, and the processes of the natural world come easy for him.
Backstory: Stanly had a bit of a chip on his shoulder. Growing up in a town in the shadow of Widows Peak surrounded by more outdoorsy, rugged peers had given him an immense inferiority complex. A well deserved one, as he was the weakest, slowest, most cowardly boy of his age in the entire county. When hunting season rolled around and the others began bragging of their trophy they'd obtained he made a very poor decision in a effort to prove himself. The others could talk all they wanted of horns and skins, but they would all acknowledge him as the best if he came back with a slice of The Old Man Of The Mountain's beard.
The Old Man Of The Mountain lived atop Widows Peak, in a cave where rumors said he hibernated during the winter. A beastly and terrible wild man, over ten feet tall with a beard like steel wool, who was connected to deep magic. They said he hid behind rocks and kicked hikers off the mountain, transformed trespassers into animals to hunt or trees to give him shade to nap under, and whipped up wild storms by catching clouds, beating them until they were good and mad, and throwing them at the town. Undeterred, knowing that this would get the respect of the whole town, the foolish boy went up the mountain with his fathers axe to hunt.
Stanly didn't fine The Old Man Of The Mountain. The Old Man Of The Mountain found him. The first shattering blow knocked the boy right out of his shoes. The second knocked him out of his socks. Then, with a whoop and a holler, he wrapped the barely conscious Stanly in his beard and leaped back up the mountain.
When Stanly awoke in the mountain cave he given two choice. Either he ate this entire apple, after which the Old Man swore he'd do the boy no harm, or The Old Man would twist off his head and squeeze out his blood to ferment into alcohol. Stanly chose the former. He took the apple and ate it to the last bite, seeds and all. Having his head twisted off would probably have been the less painful choice, because as soon as he finished he felt something growing in him. He screamed in agony and stumble/ran outside to the laughter of the old man, who called after him to pick a spot with a nice view.
The Old Man was surprised when the boy wandered back in three days later during his dinner, dragging his fathers axe with a dead look in his eye. He laughed at this, because nothing had surprised The Old Man Of The Mountain in a long, long time. Slapping his knees as the boy stumbled toward him he sucked in a deep breath and blew like the north wind itself. Stanly was blasted out of the cave and carried somewhere far from home. Far from where he wanted to be, but perhaps fairly close to where he needed to be.
He awoke, blearily, in a forest...
Magic Color and Meaning: Muddy brown. Weak in spirit, but malleable. A magic lacking in confidence.
Primary Source of Magic: Stanly consumed magic seeds from a magic fruit, which grew into a magic tree whose magic roots now permeate his body. He was meant to turn into a tree, but the seeds appear to instead have achieved symbiosis with him.
Other: He can photosynthesize now, but not to the extent that it replaces regular food. He also kept a death grip on that axe through the entire encounter. It means a lot to him.
