Shades of Shadora
Eman Fire Sorcerer
- Rank: Veteran, XP: ???
- Agility: d8e, Smarts: d12e, Spirit: d12e, Strength: d4e, Vigor d4e
- Pace: 6, Parry: 5, Toughness: 7 (3)
- Size: 0, Charisma: 0, Corruption: 0
- Skills: Untrained=d4e-2; Investigation=d4e; Knowledge=d8e; Evaluate=d8e; Persuasion=d4e;Guts=d12e;; Fighting=d6e; Shooting=d4e-2; Throwing=d4e-2
- Languages: Slavetongue
- Edges: Dodge,ABSorcery,Wizard,ArcaneResistance,RapidRecharge,Scholar
- Hindrances: Curious, Phobia (Dark), Quirk (Fire)
Spells and Powers:
Spells: Aid, Fire Manipulation, Form Fire, Wnhance Sense, Telepathy, Burst, Blast, Banish
Coin and Gear:
- Copper Scales: 0; Silver Talons: 0; Gold Fangs: 0;
- Leather Armor: Light Armor – Armor +2, covers all locations (Fine T-Rex Skin )
- Staff 2H: 2H Weapon (Staff) – Dmg:Str+d4, Properties: Parry +1, Reach 1
- Journeyman Torch: 5 inches of bright light – never dies out, Arcane roll to light or dowse, hovers above your head and moves with you.
- Compulsive: Will compulsively attempt to manipulate fire regardless of the circumstance. Becomes entranced. Can potentially cause accidents.
- Curious: About people, information and anything red. Especially if perceives that something is being intentially hidden in these categories.
- Laziness: Hates manual labor, would rather read a book.
- Obsession: Obsessed with the pursuit of mother’s passion. Percieves it to me a mastery of elemental fire.
- Phobia: Afraid of the Dark. Is only comfortable in the presence of flame.
I was born the youngest of three sons to a prosperous jewelry merchant. I was not the family pride. My two older brothers, the thugs that they were, worked security for my father and did a little “collection” service on the side. I was the runt, not overly excited about the family buisness (except for the red rubies and fire gems). Neither was I too facinated by my brothers side career interests. I liked my books – history and lore were my favorites. I would spend hours pouring over my books much to my fathers chagrin. Finally he would beat me into doing my chores.
At about age 9 or 10, I began venturing out into the market stalls looking for new tomes to discover. An old man took interest in me one day, showed me a trick with a dancing flame and I was hooked. He told me I had promise and if I wanted to learn more, that I should meet him at his home the following day. Curiosity was my master and I went, having no clue how I got there and continued to go for several years. He taught me several simple tricks and introduced me to volumes on knowledge of elemental fire.
Disappearing for days on end, my father would be furious. Between the beatings, he would lock me in a room or chain me to a wall. I would always find a way to escape. He would tell me I was too much like my mother, I never knew my mother. Died soon after I was born, not sure how. No one in my family seemed to grieve for her though, except for me, I yearned to know more about her but there was no record of her in the house and no one in the town would talk about her. My brothers would try to follow me to the old man’s house but would always get lost along the way. The old man once told me that only those that he wished to find him would ever make it to his front door. He was an odd man and I never learned his real name. I called him Burn.
The last time I saw him, he said to me, "Boy you have talent, don’t let it waste away. This will be our last visit but you must continue your education in the world. I knew your mother, she was a great woman. Pursue her passion as it is your birthrite. " I didn’t fully understand at the time fixated on the fact that I would never see him again. That same day, I had my final showdown with my father. The final straw came for my father came when I burned down his shop. After a severe beating he said to me, " your mother died because you were born, you should have died with her, I’ll have to rectify that soon"
Fear, guilt and rage all boiled together inside me and somehow the room caught fire. The building was destroyed within minutes. Immediately after that incident, my father shuttled me off to the military. I was fifteen. There was fear in his eyes now and he couldn’t get rid of me soon enough. I was no soldier as the militia quickly found out. They made me a cook. It was during this time that I met the brooding elf. At first he spoke to no one .. at least not civilly.
Curiosity was my master and I continued to pester him until he finally relented. He was in the stockade most of the time and thus had no means to rid himself of me. He warmed to me finally but our friendship was shortlived. As I said I was a cook, which suited me as I had plenty of opportunity to play with and minipulate the flames. The soldiers and staff were none too entertained however as my actual cooking was poor and I did have several accidents.
A distinguished visitor came to dinner with the captain one day and witnessed one of my accidents. Whatever he said to the captain relulted in my departure with the visitor. The Captain was quite happy to see me leave. The visitors name was Uegem, a master of my elemental passion. He needed an “assistant” as he put it to help him with his work at the University. I had found the vehicle to pursue my mother’s passion and mine!