Snowballing Mistakes - Fennik Glenwey, Lvl 4
(Stuff in green is relevant, new, and/or updated! Last profile is here.
Name: Fennik Glenwey.
Nicknames & Aliases: Fenn, Wolf Whisperer, Little Lostling
Age: Appears to be around eight years old. Chronologically speaking, Fenn is at least as old as thirty - he isn’t quite certain.
Height & Weight: 4’1”, 52 lb.
Race: Frost Fae.
Occupation: Picker of Pockets, Seeker of Treasures, Fool of the Arcana (?)
Languages: As a mute, Fenn speaks no language. As a traveler, however, he has perfect understanding of Tradespeak and partial understanding of several Elven and Salvan dialects. He also has created a limited sign-language which only his mount Daugi and his closer friends can decipher (magical omniglottal shenanigans nonwithstanding).
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Personality: Fenn is a nosy lad with a hunger for thrill, knowledge, and (above all else) interesting trinkets to hoard. He’d like to think himself the intellectual equal of any adult even if he acts more on impulse than maturity. At the same time, his inability to speak forces him to be more emotive and exaggerated in his actions than most people, which doesn't really help him look his age.
Appearance: On first glance, Fenn has the appearance of a gaunt, wispy blonde child mostly swallowed up by his own cloak. A closer look reveals him to be inhuman in nature. Thank his oddly delicate features, such as his high cheekbones and ears that taper off to a point, for tipping you off to it. Funnily enough, his ears are rather expressive and move much like a cat’s could. The most uncanny part of his face would be his eyes; pupil-less, bright green, and far too big on his face. Frost dapples his skin like freckles.
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History: Fenn originated from the Concordian woods, foraging and hiding in solitary at the edge of the forest for a brief decade at the beginning of his life. He didn’t have any family nor any knowledge of a time before. He just… was. Burgeoning curiosity drove him to explore outside the trees he’d known all his life, towards the human establishments he saw from way afar, softly lit in the night. His first tentative trek to the nearest city was more grueling than he had anticipated, and by the time he had gotten there, he was exhausted and famished. Unable to walk another inch, Fenn collapsed on the streets. He doubted he would see another day.
To his surprise, he’d live to greet quite a few more sunrises.
As it turned out, a very small guild of petty thieves took in the poor child in out of pity. Fenn quickly became the baby of the group, and over time, he learned their trade and how to act in civilized society. Well, somewhat civilized, at least -- he definitely picked up a few crass words along the way. Another decade or so of Fenn's life as a thief passed before the traumatic death of one of their members tore the group apart. After the closest thing he had ever had to a family fell apart, Fenn acted on his wanderlust and decided to try the pickings in other places. As of the current moment, Fenn is an enthusiastic explorer, funding his travels through thievery and clever conning. As it seems, the call of treasure and coin is slowly becoming as strong as that of the traveler’s frost-bitten breeze…
In his wanderings, a sick Fenn encountered an injured and packless direwolf. Desperate for a meal, she chased him up a tree and collapsed. Once he got over his initial terror, Fenn took pity on the dying creature and nursed her back to health. In turn, she evidently decided that he was a better packmate than a snack, taking him in and allowing the tiny Fae to ride on her back in exchange for affection and the occasional treat. She seems to consider Fenn to be her pup, much to the dismay of his ego, and is rapidly developing a habit of overprotectiveness to defend her only friend. After many adventures together (and much time learning to live with each other’s various quirks and shortcomings), they are nearly inseparable.
Fenn is also a member of the Tarot, though not yet a very involved one. The only people he feels any particular inclination to listen to are Vincent and John. His spare time these days is often spent chasing rumors and research about other Frost Fae. It isn’t panning out yet.
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Skills:
Picklocking - As he has had time to practice his skills, Fenn has gathered knowledge to pick a somewhat complex lock within a few minutes and a simple lock within half of one.
Pickpocketry - Learned from his old thieves’ guild. His ability has been fueled by an obsession with “collecting” any small object he can get his hands on.
Navigation - Fenn has a keen sense of direction and is practiced in exploring and mentally mapping out both wilderness and urban areas. This makes treasure hunts much, much easier.
Herbology - From his original time spent in the forest and his travels after, Fenn has picked up mediocre knowledge about which plants are delicious and which ones are icky and poisonous.
Wild Dance - Even without formal practice, Fenn is really able to cut a rug when music inspires him to do so. He suspects it to be a Fae thing.
Always Hungry - Mysteriously, the tiny boy is capable of consuming over three hefty meals in one sitting. Where does he put it all?
Ineffective Beast Wrangling - DAUGI, NO. SPIT THAT OUT RIGHT NOW.
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Abilities:
Ice Attunement - As a Frost Fae, Fenn has a body temperature just shy of thirty two degrees Fahrenheit and the ability to control snow and ice; though, he sometimes wonders if it isn’t controlling him, since it often acts up in response to his emotions rather than of his own volition. Each of the below counts as a separate ability;
- Foul Snowball: It’s an unpolished and unpracticed ability, but Fenn can summon and hurl around snowball-sized chunks of fairly ordinary ice. He can now fling them with a thought, rather than manually with his hands.
- Jack of Frost: When he has direct skin-to-skin contact with someone, Fenn is able to inflict a fairly mild frostbite on them, which can be useful in forcing people to break their hold on him. A more mundane utility for this, is that spreading frost over a flat surface turns it into a good doodlepad for the little Fae to spell out his thoughts on. This ability can also freeze over water if he is in contact with it for long enough.
- Stormy Disposition: Fenn can make it lightly snow and hail in the area around him. It’s a useful skill for whipping up some cover if he needs it.
Glamour - Fenn can cast an illusion to briefly disguise himself as another being or animal. The effect only lasts up to ten minutes, and he can only disguise himself as something he has seen before. His skill is weak, so it isn’t hard for those with a trained eye to see the spell for what it is.
Magic Sensitivity - As a Fae, Fenn has an innate ability to tell whether an object or person is magical or enchanted. The ability can only be use to tell if there is magic present not to discern the particular kind of magic. To him, residual magic “feels bright”. This sense only activates if he is in near direct contact with the object, person, or aura of magic in question. Which, when it comes to dangerous things, is probably far closer than he would ever want to be.
Dexterity - Fenn is twice as nimble than the average human, courtesy of many years spent picking pockets and fleeing from his own follies in total panic.
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Equipment:
Clothes - Fenn is often seen wearing a baggy green cloak, brown breeches, and a white shirt two sizes too large. He keeps a gold locket under his shirt; a tragic keepsake from an old friend, Amari. There are some small shiny stones inside of it, but it has no enchantments or special abilities. Socks? Shoes? Fuck those, Fenn’s a foot nudist.
Ethereal Crystal - A mysteriously glowing green gem shaped like a shard of ice, radiating whispers of the dead, kept in Amari’s locket. This magical anomaly formed after a poltergeist came in contact with the young Frost Fae’s magic. He has little idea as to how or even if he could put this to use as of yet. It’s really shiny though! That has to count for something, right? (Side note; I don't have any plans on using this right now. I have a plot thread where Fenn might exchange it for a different magical-y stone later though. Buuuuut it'll be a while before that comes up.)
Large Satchel - The loose cloth bag that Fenn has slung over his shoulder. It’s filled with the useless knick-knacks he can’t help but pick up and pilfer along the way. The clutter consists mainly of bright stones, cheap jewelry, empty wallets, bottle corks, snail shells, buttons, wanted posters, candy wrappers, faded maps, ancient coins, light adventure novels, stray wires, and rusty pins. The latter are good for picking simple locks. There is absolutely nothing made of iron in the hoard.
Brass Whistle - A small, simple whistle crafted from brass. Fenn stores it in the frontmost pocket of his bag where he can reach it with ease. It makes a shrill sound when blown into, making it his easiest way to catch other’s attention -- and to summon his massive direwolf buddy.
Familiar - Daugi the Direwolf Pupper.
As it stands, Daugi is a hulking beast of raw muscle and floofy black fur, who is a few heads taller than Fenn when she is down on all fours. Her eyes are a bloodshot red. Despite her rough appearance, she’s begun acting more like a giant golden retriever mama than an untamed wolf when Fenn’s around -- usually. She still has a willful wildness that causes her little buddy some trouble from time to time. Fenn uses her as a mount, which allows him to travel far more swiftly than he did on foot. Daugi tends to stay within a fifty-foot radius of him at all times, the exception being when she wanders off for a bit in order to hunt. A keen nose and the call of his whistle will always bring her back to him, however.
Having no magical powers of her own, Daugi makes do by defending herself and her childish charge with raw physical strength. Her claws aren’t made for scratching but her snaggletoothed maw gives aggressors reason to think twice before crossing Fenn. The direwolf’s bite can snap bones and inflict heavy wounds if Fenn allows her to go all-out. She cannot be used in Citadel battles.
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Theme Songs: Memory, We’re All Mad Here, and Dreaming
Aaaaaaand Fenn on a sugar rush!
