haseng

Thank you for leading again @Ezoura, it was a lot of fun!!!!

Thanks, I need to rework him a bit since I think I gave too many points.  

Fotia opens his eyes and groans, having spent another uncomfortable night on what passes for a luxury bed in Wayrest.  Slowly getting out of bed, he stretches, and moves over to the rough wooden table.  Opening his journal to write down some ideas that occurred to him over sleep, his train of thought wonders.  He couldn't believe that he was really here, and now, at the whims of men.  He thinks to himself that being 98th in line for the Aldmeri throne should afford him the resources to have whatever he wished summoned quickly to him.  Well, he takes the time to review, trying to see any patterns he may have missed.

 

Born into nobility, the young elf had an upbringing that led him to accept only the best from life, and himself.  No expense was spared on his tutoring, and he excelled at magic.  Of course, he burned down a few sheds in his youth, leading his near relatives to call him "Shedbane", much to his embarrassment.  He was taught that his station demanded that he only present the best side of himself, and that this mean appearance and posture must be perfect.  He may have taken the lesson too much to heart, often being known to wash twice daily, and use at least 3 outfits.  

 

As the years rolled by, Fotia at 65 was unsatisfied with his magical progress.  Certainly, he was talented, and his masters were pleased, but Fotia wanted to be great, to no longer need Masters, but to be one.  Elven methods do not encourage such haste, and Fotia had to look further afield.  He met his first non-mer (or Khajit) at age 70, hoping to learn the speedier ways of the short-lived races.  Success was made, but still not to the speed of a truly great magician.  

 

Unfortunately, this burning hunger for magic led Fotia to consider options those of more years and maturity would never countenance.  Searching for rumors, he would chase tales of strong magic or hidden lore.  Sadly, he succeeded, finding his answer in a hidden cult to Hermaeous Mora.  There he found word of an ancient spellbook of incredible magic.  This tome was being transported covertly to a hidden sorcerer in the isles around Auridon.  Fotia knew he had to act quickly, so he marshalled his resources, and arranged to steal the book.

 

This led to incredible progress in the young elf's learning.  His masters were amazed, seeing that the young pupil quickly developed the skills of those decades older than him.  Given his station, no questions were asked, but suspicion was ripe in the air.  Fotia was unconcerned, let those below him chatter and gossip, it mattered little.  Only magic mattered.

 

However, he missed something... He forgot about the book's intended recipient, and made no attempts to hide his tracks.  In some ways this made sense.  How could he imagine anyone would dispute his desires, no matter how they were attained.  Early one morning, the elf awoke to strange sounds, and the odd smell of brine.  His senses were dulled, and he felt himself separated from the world by murky water.  Fighting the disorientation, he examined his room to find a figure sitting at his desk, casually examining the papers.  After a few minutes the figure turned, and she was revealed to be a Maomer.  Fotia struggled against the incantation holding him, but was always just on the verge of success before the vertigo pushed him back.  The Sea Elf smiled, and approached, running a pointed nail along the young elf's cheek.  "So, how have you been enjoying my book?" she asked mockingly.  Not waiting for a response, she continued "Really, I'm impressed.  I took great pains to procure and arrange transport."  Walking back to his deck, she mused "Such ingenuity surely deserves a reward, don't you think?".  Fotia struggled to speak, but his efforts continously fell short.  "I can see you are a proud and confident boy.  Perhaps I should help you.  Yes, I have just the thing...".  She reached into a satchel and drew out bones that she uncoiled into a snake.  Carefully, she placed the skeleton on Fotia's chest, and began to chant.  The words were terrible and powerful, but horrible.  Necromancy.  Necromancy and blood magic.  As the spell reached to a crescendo, she pulled out a vial of blood, fed this to the snake, who now glowed red and black with malevolent power.  In moments the snake bit, and blinding pain flashed into his mind.  His skin burned and itched, his eyes boiled.   Time didn't exist for the young elf.

 

Eventually, he awakened from screaming.  His manservant had entered the room, and took one look at him, screamed, and ran.  Shaking off his brain fog, he arose, and looked around the room.  At the mirror he froze.  His skin was now oily black scales, and his eyes the color of burning pitch.  Feeling his chest, he looked and saw the imprint of a snake carved into the scales.  The necromancer had had her revenge after all.

 

Fotia was avoided by his family, and encouraged to stay out of any cities.  This he did with relish, knowing he needed to find a cure.  After years of searching, and dabbling into necromancy, the young man contacted a famous Diviner for advice.  Summoning his greatest spells, the sage struggled for hours, the end of which producing only one cryptic sentence, "Find the Nord of the Circle, who will lead you to your needs".  Angrily Fotia dismissed the man.  

 

He wanted to dismiss the advice, but was unable to find any other solutions.  What choice did he have?  He'd have to venture into the world of men to seek help...

Character Name: Fotia Angelos
Race: Altmer
Gender: Male

Age: 82

Birth Sign: Atronach - November
Occupation: Alchemist

 

Gear: Destruction Staff, formal clothing

 

Commonly carried items: portable alchemy box, alchemical ingredients, any 4 of tristat/health/magicka/thieve's potions, ink, pens, journal

 

 

Combat Skills:
Staves - Novice +2 (1 point)
 

Non-Combat Skills

1. Alchemy - Master +6  (racial, birth, 1 point)

2. Artist - Master +6 (3 points)

3. Detective/Empathy - Novice +2 (1 point)

4. Enchanting - Adept +4 (racial, 1 point)

5. Forgery - Novice +2 (1 point)

6. Noble - Adept +4 (2 points)

7. Provisioning - Adept +4 (birth, 1 point)

8. Riding - Novice +2 (1 point)

9. Scholar - Adept +4 (2 points)

10. Scribe - Adept +4 (2 points)

 

Magic Skills

1. Alteration - Novice +2  (racial)

2. Conjuration - Master +6  (racial, 2 points)

3. Destruction - Master +6  (racial, 2 points)

4. Illusion - Novice +2 (racial)

5. Mysticism - Adept +4 (2 points)

6. Necromancy - Novice +2 (1 point)

7.  Restoration - Novice +2 (1 point)

8. Shadow - Adept +4 (2 points)

 

Points Used: 26
Points Available: 14

 

Flaws: 4

Curse - curse to have black scaly skin by a Maormer necromancer

 

Dark Presence - small taint of necromancy, manifested by a faint whiff of decaying bones.

 

Egotistical - Believes himself to be the epitome of Altmer greatness

 

Vain - can't stand to be dirty, and constantly puts on perfume to cover up (unsuccessfully) his necromantic scent).

 

 

Number of Flaws: 

 

Name:  Rheeggar

Gender:  male

Age:  134 (actual), 25 (apparent)

Birth Sign:  Rain's Hand / April | Scholar, Enchanting

Occupation:  Trader (outwardly), Morag Tong (actually)

Height:  5’8”

Weight:  153 lbs

Physique:  average

Eyes:  brown

Hair:  brown

 

Gear:  

Restoration Staff, Destruction Staff, Moderately prosperous trader outfit fit for a somewhat formal occasion, dagger (hidden). 

 

Commonly carried items:  

thieves’ draught, poisons, tri-restoration potions, black assassin outfit.  Mount of an even tempered and well-fed White Imperial Horse (name:  Magnolia.  Responds to “Steady Girl”).

 

Skills:

 

Combat:

Dagger:  Adept +4 (2 points)

Staves:  Beginner +2 (1 point)

Dodge:  Beginner +2 (1 point)

 

Magic:

Alteration: Master +6 (race and 2 points)

Conjuration: Beginner +2 (race)

Illusion: Beginner +2 (race)

Restoration: Master +6 (race and 2 points)

Mysticism: Beginner +2 (race)

 

Non-Combat:

Alchemy:  Beginner +2 (race)

Detective:  Adept +4 (2 points)

Diplomacy:  Adept +4 (race and 1 point)

Enchanting: Beginner +2 (birth)

Infiltration:  Beginner +2 (1 point)

Lock picking:  Beginner +2 (1 point)

Merchant: Adept +4 (2 points)

Pickpocketing: Beginner +2 (1 point)

Scholar: Beginner +2 (birth)

Stealth:  Master +6 (3 points)

 

Points: 20, 2 flaws

 

Flaws:

Anxious:  You have anxiety.  This can be a generalized condition which hinders you on a daily basis or can arise when confronted with certain stimuli.

Enemy:  You have an enemy, or perhaps a group of enemies, who seek to harm you.  You must decide who your enemy is and how you became enemies in the first place.  A Thalmor, Ordinator, a monster hunter who discovered your secret, or any other powerful adversary cause the flaw to count as two.

 

Story Elements:

-He is unremarkable and easy to forget except for occasionally slipping into an old accent of Daggerfall.  Once you get to know him, you can see that he is hypervigilant, reacting quickly to noises and sounds (this wouldn’t be noticeable in short interactions). Once you get to know him even more, it is easy to see that a constant cloud of anxiety hangs over him, coloring his perspective a bit pessimistic.

-He is a moderately successful gain and beer tradesman operating out of Vivec City.  Successful enough to live comfortably, but not enough to be known outside the city (overtly).  His primary job is with the Morag Tong as a spy/assassin.  He is currently on an assignment in Vivec City to help eradicate slavery that might damage the Ebonheart Pact.  He has been working against House Telvanni, and they recently found that he was behind a ship of theirs having their goods confiscated.  They have not tied him to 3 assassinations of promising applicants to the level of magister, or breaking into a couple of magister’s residences to steal curious magical curiosities.  He has worked mostly with House Redoran in Vvardenfell.  Due to the lucrative nature of his contracts, the war has not much affected his income, but it does make it complicated to hide this when his trading has dropped.

-He is from Daggerfall, having grown up in a household of crafters.  He has no living family members beyond 3x great nieces and nephews.  He and his family saved up money to send him to the College at Winterhold to study magic, given his talents.  As the caravan was a day out of Whitefun, they were attacked by a Clan Vulkihar vampire.  The vampire killed most of the caravan, and apparently fatally wounded Rheeggar.  The vampire was forced away, and the remaining caravan fled.  He only lived due to a talent with Restoration magic.  This was at age 20.  He wandered back to Glenumbra, and ran into Count Ravenwatch.  During the next 129 years, he practiced magic, and found that he had talents with the more questionable skills in thievery.  There were a number of occasions where he took upon himself to kill minor lords who abused their power by treating workers as slaves, or to grind them into abject poverty.  Count Ravenwatch did not approve, but did note that Rheeggar had never fed on an innocent, and only killed while feeding when the point was assassination.  5 years ago, Count Ravenwatch offered to get him in touch with the Priests of Arkay for a cure, and Rheeggar accepted.  He decided that he needed a new life, so he went to Vivec City.  The Morag Tong there investigated him after some of his exploits, and found out about his past.  Using this, they ‘encouraged’ him to join their ranks.  He accepted with little in the way of reservations.  From there, he proved himself around Vvardenfell before being set up as a ‘Trader’ in Vivec City.  From there he received contracts until the present.  In the past few months, word reached him that his sire was tasked with killing him as punishment for being sloppy with his bite.  This enemy has been killing some of his more tenuous associations and is clearly on the way to closing in. 

-He is methodical about conflict and often tries to find a covert way of destroying his opposition rather than facing it head on.  He is pessimistic about change, having experienced so much over the years.  It takes him a bit longer than others to adapt.  He is terrified of aging, and hasn’t adapted to mortality well.  While no longer interested in vampirism, he would be very tempted by other means of extending his life.  He would like to move to a remote location with a nice house, and become an initiate of Mara for local villages.  He would never let anyone now know of his veneration of the Aedra of Marriage.  Having lived so long, he knows that there are going to be setbacks on the way, but is reluctantly confident that he will find a way to his goal, direct or indirect.