Necropolis
12-21-10, 10:05 PM
Name: Bill Foris
Psuedonym: Tursus Ro
Age: 26
Race: Human
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 285
Occupation: Information Salesman
Appearance: Bill stands at an average 5'11" and is a very portly man. His hair is a bowl cut that runs about to the nose level. It is pated down the middle and usually appears very oily. On his pudgy face is a bit of stubble with the beginnings of a soul patch just under his bottom lip. When he goes out in public he wears the most extravagant clothes he can find, that is if a 5 year old were judging. All of his robes are meant to look expensive and fine but are clearly cheap, worn, and tacky to say the least. He appears to have a perpetual grease stain somewhere near the neckline from the various very unhealthy foods he indulges in. On his hands are three rings, one, on his right hand middle finger, bearing a sigil of a magic rune, the staple of apprenticeship of the mage who lived near his home and taught him. The other two are made from cheap baubles he bought and are on his left index
and ring fingers. In public he prefers to wear sandals, as he finds them very comfortable.
History:
Bill once lived in a small farming community of a little less than 300 people, called Clemency. Many of the families there had been there for generations and were staples to the people. The Foris family specifically raised pigs and chickens and sold their meat products to the rest of the village. Bill had 4 siblings who all helped out with the chores and went to all of the local events. Bill wasn't among them. Bill was very introverted and prefered one of the few books the Foris's could afford or find, to the hard
job of cleaning the stables. As such he did what he could to avoid work at all costs. He hated the life given to him, thinking it unfair in comparison to the fantastic worlds in his books.
Legends in the village told of one of the original settlers of Clemency being a young man with mystical powers. He was apparantly a mage or wizard of some sort and helped with his abilities to create parts of the village, erecting many of the homes that still stood today. At first grateful, they began to fear the man and eventually drove him off into the wilderness. To this day it was a taboo to go much farther than a few feet into the woods out of fear of the man. From time to time you would hear about daring young ones going past the safe zone and never coming back.
Bill was 14. His responsibility while his parents went out to the market to sell some of their livestock was to watch the rest. His parents had given him an ultimatum. Either he would be the dutiful son and do as he was told, or he would be no son at all. Bill watched for a few hours and soon became bored. He latched the gates around the pigs and went inside to get one of his books. While inside he sat and became engrossed in one of his favorite stories. After an hour he had completely forgotten about his duty and fallen asleep. When his parents returned to find that half of the herd had escaped through a small hole they made through the fence and seemed to have gone into the forest they were more than furious. To them their son was a burden and an embarassment, so they took and burned his books and forced him to go out and live by himself. Their intention was that Bill would learn on his own how to be responsible and that perhaps after he had made a life for himself that he would even be grateful for having the chance to be just like Mommy and Daddy.
The plan failed spectacularly. Bill had become almost reliant on the books that were his world. The fires that destroyed them fueled the burning hatred he now had for not only his parents but all in the village. All the people who judged him as a freak for simply living a sedentary lifestyle. He left that day and went straight into the woods figuring all the people who never came back had probably found some bastion of civilization and decided to stay. Who, after all, would ever want to come back to a horrid place like
that.
After two days, cold and hungry in the woods he had begun to regret his decision. He had found no such civilization. He slumped against a tree and began to grow angry. "Damn them! Damn them all! If it weren't for those horrid people I wouldn't be here miserable, and starving. I wish...I wish death to them all. I curse them." From behind him he heard a voice. It spoke "Ahhh, I see I've found a kindred spirit in you, boy." Bill's eyes widened and he dived away from the tree tumbling and crawling away to see an ancient man step from behind the tree. He truly was older than any he had met.
Bill's fear was dispelled and replaced with wonder after the man had told him who he was and that he had no ill intentions. Something about his comfortable familiarity made Bill fear nothing from the man any longer. The man eventually explained that he was the wizard of legend and that he had helped many of the boys who had come through thus far reach their destination, or taught them his own trade. He told bill that some of his
apprentice's had gone on to great things becoming powerful wizards of their own. He offered the same to Bill after a warm meal and a good night's sleep in his domecile, a wide series of caverns seemingly carved into the earth by the hands of man. He could do nothing but accept. It was his dream to be great and this man had offered it to him on a silver platter.
Bill was 22. bill was also a very poor student. He absorbed the material like a sponge but when it came to application he was rubbish. The only spell he could even adequately duplicate was a method of sound dampening performed by mixing several herbs found in the nearbye wilderness, and kept in the wizard's cupboard, applying it to ones feet and chanting an incantation. All the same the master was patient, and oddly so as he was becoming older by the day. Soon would come a time when bill thought the old man would die and he would be forver denied thegreatness he desired.
After a particularly frustrating session Bill sulked in his room he went up to one of the walls and began banging his head against it lightly. "I'm hopeless..." he spoke before falling through the wall, apparantly weak enough to succumb to his weight. Behind the wall was a set of stairsthrough which Bill clumsily fell. When he reached the bottom, it was pitch darkness save for the light from his room managing to just barely pierce the blackness. And then a torch lit itself. It surprised him at first, but like the day he met his master the feeling, as well as his aching foot which may have been sprained, was soon replaced with fascination. In the room was a desk, and on the desk was a book.
Bill had just turned 23. It was about 3 weeks since he had found the book, and he had made a trip to read it every night since. It was a diary, scrawled by one of his master's former students. The student had entered the forest on a dare and become lost. In despiration he almost gave up when the master found him. The circumstances of his apprenticeship were most similar to his own. He had become ambitious and had found far more success than my training had. There was something odd about the book. It detailed the master's age. He described him as being ancient, like a wizened old tree. The master could certainly have been called that but the kicker was the date. It was nearly 40 years ago, almost to the day.
Bill was 6 months into 23. He was tremendously disturbed by the book, as he had read it in its entirety, then read it again, and again. He understood Why the master seemed to be the same age now that he was 40 years ago. He understood the connotations of the old story about the wizard forefather still being alive today. He understood why nobody ever came back from the wilderness. The master was stealing the life of his apprentices. The diary laid out how the former apprentice had figured it out himself. Most interesting was the last page. It was a musing on life. Among all the accounts of real life it seemed very out of place. It spoke something of the origin of want, and the spontaneity of life.
Bill was very much afraid. He was nervously rocking back and forth in his chair thinking when his master would decide he was ready to be sacrificed. Bill went to far and his chair fell backwards propelling him at the back wall of the room. His head hit the wall hard enough to make him see lights and feel a ferocious pain. the stone behind him slowly slipped back like in some of the tales he had read as a boy of adventurers tripping traps in ancient temples. Near the desk another stone seemed to jut out. When it was free of the wall bill saw that it was hollow in it was several pages of text and a knife. He walked over and picked them up. At the same time a light burst from them and poured into his fourhead flooding his mind with thoughts and images.
Bill was 24, and he was not the same. The master had noticed a sudtle shift in his demeaner, but tossed it aside thinking it irrelevant. That night the master slept peacefully. Bill did not sleep. he snuck down to the basement level where the master's reagents were held. Several minutes later his feet were anointed and no sound escaped from them. Proceding carefully, Bill approached the masters door 2 levels up. He opened the door and looked at the floor for traps. None, he could see. His master had become complacent in his old age. He thought for a moment at the irony of his last thought, and proceded. He looked down at the peacefully sleeping old man. He appeared so fragile, but bill knew from experience if he awoke him that would be the last thought he would have. He raised the knife from the stone and plunged it fast into the sorcerors hearts. The man's eyes immediately blinked open but he couldn't move. The dagger was somehow pinning him. The man was paralysed. all he could do as life poured out of him was gape his mouth open and stare blankly at his killer. His eyes dialated and he died. Then Bill placed his hands on his master's head. Like the pages had done earlier light began to flow from the masters eyes and mouth to Bill's forhead. It was wonderfull. Centuries of knowledge now his and his alone. But the experience changed then. Bill saw something no mortal should. The afterlife. the horror of it all wouldn't stop, and it felt like he was being drawn closer and closer into it. He broke the connection through sheer force of will, losing some of the information. But he knew one thing. It was clear in his mind now. With sheer horror he realized the truth. The master was half elven. He had had an apprentice that had sought only to usurp the master. Before the confrontation in which the apprentice lost his life he carefully forged a diary of false events, false occurances. All to ensure even if he died the master would eventually die as well. Bill fell back staring out into space contemplating what had happened, and in that instance his sanity snapped. The manuscript had tought him the dark power to rip experience, thoughts and memories from anythings mind. The price was an insatiable hunger for all things. He had also paid the price for the one thing you should never use the ability on. The dead.
Bill Foris was gone. He was an old memory. The thing that was left took his master's name, Tursus Ro. He quickly gathered a map of the area and ate what was left in the food stores. And then he left.
Personality: Bill is a very self serving and greedy man. His only wish is self indulgence and the pursuit of knowledge. He is driven by the ever burning desire to consume, be it food, wine, women, or his personal favorite, information.
Skills:
His first genuine skill was herbology, learning how to make a poultice that stops bleeding, and one used in a ritual to dampen sound, as well as a poison that can cause temporary paralysis.
He is physically very weak and has trouble lifting 20 pounds. He aslo lacks any endurance whatsoever, quickly tiring
Ability:
Fireball: Tursus conjures a ball of fire about a foot in diameter that he then throws. He can concentrate to make it about 1.5 times bigger but anymore than that and he runs the risk of it exploding in his face. His knowledge of the spell was taken from the original tursus, but is incomplete
Shockwave: Tursus can make magical shockwave that pushes back foes. Typically this can only be used at the beginning of a fight when he is not tired or heavily encumbered. This spell is also incomplete and flawed.
Siphon mind: When Tursus is very close and is in physical contact with somones head he can tear knowledge from them. When alive they fall unconscious and can no longer remember the information taken. If he siphons from something dead he is pulled closer to the dead himself. He is unsure of what would happen if he went all the way and immersed himself in that world but its certainly not something he wishes to try anytime soon. Stronger minds are capable of resisting the attack
Equipment: Aforementioned robes, And steel sacrificial dagger. Most often poisoned.
Psuedonym: Tursus Ro
Age: 26
Race: Human
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 285
Occupation: Information Salesman
Appearance: Bill stands at an average 5'11" and is a very portly man. His hair is a bowl cut that runs about to the nose level. It is pated down the middle and usually appears very oily. On his pudgy face is a bit of stubble with the beginnings of a soul patch just under his bottom lip. When he goes out in public he wears the most extravagant clothes he can find, that is if a 5 year old were judging. All of his robes are meant to look expensive and fine but are clearly cheap, worn, and tacky to say the least. He appears to have a perpetual grease stain somewhere near the neckline from the various very unhealthy foods he indulges in. On his hands are three rings, one, on his right hand middle finger, bearing a sigil of a magic rune, the staple of apprenticeship of the mage who lived near his home and taught him. The other two are made from cheap baubles he bought and are on his left index
and ring fingers. In public he prefers to wear sandals, as he finds them very comfortable.
History:
Bill once lived in a small farming community of a little less than 300 people, called Clemency. Many of the families there had been there for generations and were staples to the people. The Foris family specifically raised pigs and chickens and sold their meat products to the rest of the village. Bill had 4 siblings who all helped out with the chores and went to all of the local events. Bill wasn't among them. Bill was very introverted and prefered one of the few books the Foris's could afford or find, to the hard
job of cleaning the stables. As such he did what he could to avoid work at all costs. He hated the life given to him, thinking it unfair in comparison to the fantastic worlds in his books.
Legends in the village told of one of the original settlers of Clemency being a young man with mystical powers. He was apparantly a mage or wizard of some sort and helped with his abilities to create parts of the village, erecting many of the homes that still stood today. At first grateful, they began to fear the man and eventually drove him off into the wilderness. To this day it was a taboo to go much farther than a few feet into the woods out of fear of the man. From time to time you would hear about daring young ones going past the safe zone and never coming back.
Bill was 14. His responsibility while his parents went out to the market to sell some of their livestock was to watch the rest. His parents had given him an ultimatum. Either he would be the dutiful son and do as he was told, or he would be no son at all. Bill watched for a few hours and soon became bored. He latched the gates around the pigs and went inside to get one of his books. While inside he sat and became engrossed in one of his favorite stories. After an hour he had completely forgotten about his duty and fallen asleep. When his parents returned to find that half of the herd had escaped through a small hole they made through the fence and seemed to have gone into the forest they were more than furious. To them their son was a burden and an embarassment, so they took and burned his books and forced him to go out and live by himself. Their intention was that Bill would learn on his own how to be responsible and that perhaps after he had made a life for himself that he would even be grateful for having the chance to be just like Mommy and Daddy.
The plan failed spectacularly. Bill had become almost reliant on the books that were his world. The fires that destroyed them fueled the burning hatred he now had for not only his parents but all in the village. All the people who judged him as a freak for simply living a sedentary lifestyle. He left that day and went straight into the woods figuring all the people who never came back had probably found some bastion of civilization and decided to stay. Who, after all, would ever want to come back to a horrid place like
that.
After two days, cold and hungry in the woods he had begun to regret his decision. He had found no such civilization. He slumped against a tree and began to grow angry. "Damn them! Damn them all! If it weren't for those horrid people I wouldn't be here miserable, and starving. I wish...I wish death to them all. I curse them." From behind him he heard a voice. It spoke "Ahhh, I see I've found a kindred spirit in you, boy." Bill's eyes widened and he dived away from the tree tumbling and crawling away to see an ancient man step from behind the tree. He truly was older than any he had met.
Bill's fear was dispelled and replaced with wonder after the man had told him who he was and that he had no ill intentions. Something about his comfortable familiarity made Bill fear nothing from the man any longer. The man eventually explained that he was the wizard of legend and that he had helped many of the boys who had come through thus far reach their destination, or taught them his own trade. He told bill that some of his
apprentice's had gone on to great things becoming powerful wizards of their own. He offered the same to Bill after a warm meal and a good night's sleep in his domecile, a wide series of caverns seemingly carved into the earth by the hands of man. He could do nothing but accept. It was his dream to be great and this man had offered it to him on a silver platter.
Bill was 22. bill was also a very poor student. He absorbed the material like a sponge but when it came to application he was rubbish. The only spell he could even adequately duplicate was a method of sound dampening performed by mixing several herbs found in the nearbye wilderness, and kept in the wizard's cupboard, applying it to ones feet and chanting an incantation. All the same the master was patient, and oddly so as he was becoming older by the day. Soon would come a time when bill thought the old man would die and he would be forver denied thegreatness he desired.
After a particularly frustrating session Bill sulked in his room he went up to one of the walls and began banging his head against it lightly. "I'm hopeless..." he spoke before falling through the wall, apparantly weak enough to succumb to his weight. Behind the wall was a set of stairsthrough which Bill clumsily fell. When he reached the bottom, it was pitch darkness save for the light from his room managing to just barely pierce the blackness. And then a torch lit itself. It surprised him at first, but like the day he met his master the feeling, as well as his aching foot which may have been sprained, was soon replaced with fascination. In the room was a desk, and on the desk was a book.
Bill had just turned 23. It was about 3 weeks since he had found the book, and he had made a trip to read it every night since. It was a diary, scrawled by one of his master's former students. The student had entered the forest on a dare and become lost. In despiration he almost gave up when the master found him. The circumstances of his apprenticeship were most similar to his own. He had become ambitious and had found far more success than my training had. There was something odd about the book. It detailed the master's age. He described him as being ancient, like a wizened old tree. The master could certainly have been called that but the kicker was the date. It was nearly 40 years ago, almost to the day.
Bill was 6 months into 23. He was tremendously disturbed by the book, as he had read it in its entirety, then read it again, and again. He understood Why the master seemed to be the same age now that he was 40 years ago. He understood the connotations of the old story about the wizard forefather still being alive today. He understood why nobody ever came back from the wilderness. The master was stealing the life of his apprentices. The diary laid out how the former apprentice had figured it out himself. Most interesting was the last page. It was a musing on life. Among all the accounts of real life it seemed very out of place. It spoke something of the origin of want, and the spontaneity of life.
Bill was very much afraid. He was nervously rocking back and forth in his chair thinking when his master would decide he was ready to be sacrificed. Bill went to far and his chair fell backwards propelling him at the back wall of the room. His head hit the wall hard enough to make him see lights and feel a ferocious pain. the stone behind him slowly slipped back like in some of the tales he had read as a boy of adventurers tripping traps in ancient temples. Near the desk another stone seemed to jut out. When it was free of the wall bill saw that it was hollow in it was several pages of text and a knife. He walked over and picked them up. At the same time a light burst from them and poured into his fourhead flooding his mind with thoughts and images.
Bill was 24, and he was not the same. The master had noticed a sudtle shift in his demeaner, but tossed it aside thinking it irrelevant. That night the master slept peacefully. Bill did not sleep. he snuck down to the basement level where the master's reagents were held. Several minutes later his feet were anointed and no sound escaped from them. Proceding carefully, Bill approached the masters door 2 levels up. He opened the door and looked at the floor for traps. None, he could see. His master had become complacent in his old age. He thought for a moment at the irony of his last thought, and proceded. He looked down at the peacefully sleeping old man. He appeared so fragile, but bill knew from experience if he awoke him that would be the last thought he would have. He raised the knife from the stone and plunged it fast into the sorcerors hearts. The man's eyes immediately blinked open but he couldn't move. The dagger was somehow pinning him. The man was paralysed. all he could do as life poured out of him was gape his mouth open and stare blankly at his killer. His eyes dialated and he died. Then Bill placed his hands on his master's head. Like the pages had done earlier light began to flow from the masters eyes and mouth to Bill's forhead. It was wonderfull. Centuries of knowledge now his and his alone. But the experience changed then. Bill saw something no mortal should. The afterlife. the horror of it all wouldn't stop, and it felt like he was being drawn closer and closer into it. He broke the connection through sheer force of will, losing some of the information. But he knew one thing. It was clear in his mind now. With sheer horror he realized the truth. The master was half elven. He had had an apprentice that had sought only to usurp the master. Before the confrontation in which the apprentice lost his life he carefully forged a diary of false events, false occurances. All to ensure even if he died the master would eventually die as well. Bill fell back staring out into space contemplating what had happened, and in that instance his sanity snapped. The manuscript had tought him the dark power to rip experience, thoughts and memories from anythings mind. The price was an insatiable hunger for all things. He had also paid the price for the one thing you should never use the ability on. The dead.
Bill Foris was gone. He was an old memory. The thing that was left took his master's name, Tursus Ro. He quickly gathered a map of the area and ate what was left in the food stores. And then he left.
Personality: Bill is a very self serving and greedy man. His only wish is self indulgence and the pursuit of knowledge. He is driven by the ever burning desire to consume, be it food, wine, women, or his personal favorite, information.
Skills:
His first genuine skill was herbology, learning how to make a poultice that stops bleeding, and one used in a ritual to dampen sound, as well as a poison that can cause temporary paralysis.
He is physically very weak and has trouble lifting 20 pounds. He aslo lacks any endurance whatsoever, quickly tiring
Ability:
Fireball: Tursus conjures a ball of fire about a foot in diameter that he then throws. He can concentrate to make it about 1.5 times bigger but anymore than that and he runs the risk of it exploding in his face. His knowledge of the spell was taken from the original tursus, but is incomplete
Shockwave: Tursus can make magical shockwave that pushes back foes. Typically this can only be used at the beginning of a fight when he is not tired or heavily encumbered. This spell is also incomplete and flawed.
Siphon mind: When Tursus is very close and is in physical contact with somones head he can tear knowledge from them. When alive they fall unconscious and can no longer remember the information taken. If he siphons from something dead he is pulled closer to the dead himself. He is unsure of what would happen if he went all the way and immersed himself in that world but its certainly not something he wishes to try anytime soon. Stronger minds are capable of resisting the attack
Equipment: Aforementioned robes, And steel sacrificial dagger. Most often poisoned.