Ellion
03-02-13, 06:26 PM
Name: Ellion Bast
Age: 23
Race: Human
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Dark brown
Height: 5’7”
Weight: 170
Personality: Ellion is quick to laugh and outwardly friendly. Despite an outgoing and carefree exterior, he often feels self-doubt and uneasiness with his surroundings, as well as a desire to be accepted by those around him. He is most happy when he is able to improve the mood of others around him, and feels a sense of anxiety when others are unhappy. Far more comfortable in the country than in cities, he finds the dinginess and darker sides of metropolitan areas very unappealing.
Appearance: To describe Ellion as comely would be mildly generous, as he has a rather plain face. His skin is the olive tone of a man whose family at one point hailed from a desert region, and the unkempt tuft of dark brown hair atop his head gives him the constant look of one who is disheveled. Across his cheeks is a hint of a beard that, if not carefully groomed, would quickly overrun his entire face. His body is not particularly toned or even well-muscled; rather he has the physique of one who favors tasks involving the mind, as well as delicious food. Unable to afford anything outside of commoner clothes, he typically wears earthy-colors, most notably a woolen tunic with slightly-loose leather belt cinched around his waist. Upon his feet is a pair of leather boots, clearly the most extravagant item he owns. On Ellion’s right wrist is an ornate symbol, which appears to have been burned onto him.
Skills: Ellion is not outwardly skilled in any combat arts. The most that can be said of him is that he is rather charismatic, which he can occasionally use to navigate his way out of risky situations. He also has some basic knowledge of nature lore, though it is limited to basic survival techniques such as foraging and seeking shelter.
Abilities:
Doppleganger: During moments of intense stress, Ellion will involuntarily create an exact replica of himself. This doppelganger is merely a defense mechanism; it cannot affect the outside world, nor can it be affected by outside forces unless it is dispelled or Ellion finds himself at in a less-stressful state. The doppelganger typically acts out in a manner that Ellion cannot; for instance, if he finds himself a situation in which he cannot defend himself, Ellion’s doppelganger will often attack his assailant, though it can do no harm.
*It must be noted that any magical abilities that Ellion displays are completely involuntary. He has no control over when they may manifest, nor does he have control of them once they have indeed shown themselves.*
Equipment: Ellion owns nothing besides basic travel necessities and his wool clothing.
History:
It was night.
“Merrion, it is what’s best for the boy,” Darion assured his sobbing wife. She spent more and more of her days red-eyed and weepy, and it was quickly beginning to take its toll on the merchant. “He will learn how to control it, and soon he will create a life for himself better than you or I could ever have dreamed of.”
Merrion shook her head as a large tear trickled down her red cheeks. “He would have had a fine life with us, right here with us! You sent him off to those…those freaks! By the time he returns he will not even recognize us! We prayed for years for that child and now you’ve given him away!” She pounded her fists on the bed, and Darion feared for a moment that she might turn her rage on him. Instead she lowered her shaking fists and began another spell of weeping.
“He won’t forget us, Merrion,” he promised. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, Darion felt a pang of hurt in his chest as she flinched away. The man sighed deeply and turned to his side, blowing out the candle that had lit their small bedroom. “Trust me, my love. The boy will return, he will remember us, and we will live happy…even happier than we were before.” His wife made no reply other than to slide from the bed and pace out of the room. Chewing his lower lip for a moment, Darion Bast decided that it was best to let his wife be; it was late, and he had much work to do in the morning. Slowly, he felt himself drift into an uneasy sleep.
***
“WAKE UP, BOY!” yelled the old master. “You will gain nothing if you spend all your day in bed!” Ellion felt a twinge of annoyance. If by ‘spend all your day’ you mean get barely any sleep, you old bat. Instead of voicing his opinion- which would have assured him a few licks of the old man’s switch- Ellion slid from bed and vigorously wiped the sleep from his eyes.
“I tell you, youth these days knows nothing of the difficulties we used to experience. We slept far less than you lazy souls, and we learned twice as fast! You’ve grown pampered boy, but I promise you we’ll fix that!” The old man’s nose appeared as though he had run into a metal pole and had broken quite grotesquely. It made for a rather unpleasant sight first thing in the morning.
“Master, what would you have for breakfast this morning?” Ellion asked, praying that the old man did not question his politeness as he often did.
“Breakfast!?” the old man squawked, his beady eyes growing wide. “Why, boy, you missed breakfast! Breakfast is served to those who wake up when their masters call, not those who do their best to pretend they did not hear!” He flashed a cruel grin, his yellowed teeth only serving to further ignite Ellion’s temper. “But I suppose you must have something…let us see…” Ellion watched as the old man stalked from the tiny student chamber back into his large master’s room. He returned moments later grasping a thin stale bit of bread, extending it to Ellion while still wearing his cruel grin.
“There you are boy. Oh, but mind the mold.” The old master cackled bitterly and moved to begin pulling scrolls from a large old bookcase, the only piece of furniture in the room besides the slab that the man had the audacity to call a “bed”.
Ellion examined the bread for a few moments before placing the least-moldy piece in his mouth. The dry, rank taste of it made him gag, and he spit it back onto the floor. The old master turned slowly, and Ellion knew immediately that he had made a mistake.
“Is my food not to your liking, boy?” Ellion knew better than to take the bait. He dropped his eyes and tried to avoid eye contact. He heard the soft shuffling of the master’s walk as the old man approached. The man’s voice grew to a barely-audible whisper. “I asked you a question, boy.” Ellion said nothing.
Suddenly, Ellion felt a hot surge of pain ripple across his back. Ellion dropped to his knees as a second blow came to fall. Tears began to well in the boy’s eyes as he looked up at the old master. The old man simply glared at the boy; there was no lash in his hand, though the look in his eyes betrayed a darker sort of punishment.
Another burst of pain brought a yelp from Ellion’s mouth, and he found himself struggling to keep upright. He braced himself for another lash when he heard a gasp escape the old man’s lips. Ellion used the moment of respite to gather his composure, only to notice that there was suddenly another person in the room standing before him.
Wiping away the tears of pain, his gaze moved up the figure until he realized that the individual looked oddly familiar. It took a moment before he realized that the figure standing before him was…him.
The copycat rushed forward at the old man and Ellion cringed, afraid that the creature would crush his master. Instead, the doppelganger slid through him as though nothing was there. Within moments the old man wheeled, threw his hands up, and the doppelganger turned to mist before disappearing completely. The old master turned to Ellion, his mouth hanging open. With sudden haste, the man sped from the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
“You are done, boy! Done, I say!”
***
“But sir, I…I cannot go home a failure,” Ellion stated bluntly, his chest growing tighter each moment.
“Student Bast, I cannot allow one such as you at this school. I am sorry, but you must leave.” The elderly man’s beard dangled so low that Ellion wondered if it had still had color when it was last shaved. “A student who has an emotional response to magic is beyond our abilities to control. We are a small institution, our masters are volunteers, and you brand of power is too dangerous. I cannot put the lives of other students in danger because you have nowhere else to go.”
The words almost seemed foreign to Ellion.
“Sir, there is nothing dangerous about me…it will not happen again, I promise!”
The headmaster sighed and shook his head.
“You cannot promise me that, Student Bast. You want to promise me that, but you cannot. In the same way that one who does not feel love cannot make themselves take a paramour, you cannot control your emotions, at least not at this point. As I stated, it would take far more advanced training than we can guarantee here. This is not debatable. I do not care where you go, but you cannot stay here. Go, seek your fortune, return to your family, become a merchant. You cannot stay here.”
At that moment, Ellion was not sure which pain he felt hurt more; that which is old master had inflicted upon him or the words he was hearing currently.
“Unfortunately, Student Bast, there is one last matter that I must address. Ones such as yourself are dangerous not only to this school, but to those who live in the villages around our humble academy. It is for this reason that you must bare…a mark.” The elder’s eyes twitched briefly to Ellion’s wrist before back to the boy’s face.
Within moments, Ellion felt his arm begin to go numb. Slowly the numbness narrowed to his forearm, before settling on his wrist. Glancing at his wrist, he gasped: there now rested a red symbol upon his forearm where there had previously been none. It looked as though someone had pressed a cattle-prod onto his arm.
“Student Bast, I am so sorry.”
Age: 23
Race: Human
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Dark brown
Height: 5’7”
Weight: 170
Personality: Ellion is quick to laugh and outwardly friendly. Despite an outgoing and carefree exterior, he often feels self-doubt and uneasiness with his surroundings, as well as a desire to be accepted by those around him. He is most happy when he is able to improve the mood of others around him, and feels a sense of anxiety when others are unhappy. Far more comfortable in the country than in cities, he finds the dinginess and darker sides of metropolitan areas very unappealing.
Appearance: To describe Ellion as comely would be mildly generous, as he has a rather plain face. His skin is the olive tone of a man whose family at one point hailed from a desert region, and the unkempt tuft of dark brown hair atop his head gives him the constant look of one who is disheveled. Across his cheeks is a hint of a beard that, if not carefully groomed, would quickly overrun his entire face. His body is not particularly toned or even well-muscled; rather he has the physique of one who favors tasks involving the mind, as well as delicious food. Unable to afford anything outside of commoner clothes, he typically wears earthy-colors, most notably a woolen tunic with slightly-loose leather belt cinched around his waist. Upon his feet is a pair of leather boots, clearly the most extravagant item he owns. On Ellion’s right wrist is an ornate symbol, which appears to have been burned onto him.
Skills: Ellion is not outwardly skilled in any combat arts. The most that can be said of him is that he is rather charismatic, which he can occasionally use to navigate his way out of risky situations. He also has some basic knowledge of nature lore, though it is limited to basic survival techniques such as foraging and seeking shelter.
Abilities:
Doppleganger: During moments of intense stress, Ellion will involuntarily create an exact replica of himself. This doppelganger is merely a defense mechanism; it cannot affect the outside world, nor can it be affected by outside forces unless it is dispelled or Ellion finds himself at in a less-stressful state. The doppelganger typically acts out in a manner that Ellion cannot; for instance, if he finds himself a situation in which he cannot defend himself, Ellion’s doppelganger will often attack his assailant, though it can do no harm.
*It must be noted that any magical abilities that Ellion displays are completely involuntary. He has no control over when they may manifest, nor does he have control of them once they have indeed shown themselves.*
Equipment: Ellion owns nothing besides basic travel necessities and his wool clothing.
History:
It was night.
“Merrion, it is what’s best for the boy,” Darion assured his sobbing wife. She spent more and more of her days red-eyed and weepy, and it was quickly beginning to take its toll on the merchant. “He will learn how to control it, and soon he will create a life for himself better than you or I could ever have dreamed of.”
Merrion shook her head as a large tear trickled down her red cheeks. “He would have had a fine life with us, right here with us! You sent him off to those…those freaks! By the time he returns he will not even recognize us! We prayed for years for that child and now you’ve given him away!” She pounded her fists on the bed, and Darion feared for a moment that she might turn her rage on him. Instead she lowered her shaking fists and began another spell of weeping.
“He won’t forget us, Merrion,” he promised. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, Darion felt a pang of hurt in his chest as she flinched away. The man sighed deeply and turned to his side, blowing out the candle that had lit their small bedroom. “Trust me, my love. The boy will return, he will remember us, and we will live happy…even happier than we were before.” His wife made no reply other than to slide from the bed and pace out of the room. Chewing his lower lip for a moment, Darion Bast decided that it was best to let his wife be; it was late, and he had much work to do in the morning. Slowly, he felt himself drift into an uneasy sleep.
***
“WAKE UP, BOY!” yelled the old master. “You will gain nothing if you spend all your day in bed!” Ellion felt a twinge of annoyance. If by ‘spend all your day’ you mean get barely any sleep, you old bat. Instead of voicing his opinion- which would have assured him a few licks of the old man’s switch- Ellion slid from bed and vigorously wiped the sleep from his eyes.
“I tell you, youth these days knows nothing of the difficulties we used to experience. We slept far less than you lazy souls, and we learned twice as fast! You’ve grown pampered boy, but I promise you we’ll fix that!” The old man’s nose appeared as though he had run into a metal pole and had broken quite grotesquely. It made for a rather unpleasant sight first thing in the morning.
“Master, what would you have for breakfast this morning?” Ellion asked, praying that the old man did not question his politeness as he often did.
“Breakfast!?” the old man squawked, his beady eyes growing wide. “Why, boy, you missed breakfast! Breakfast is served to those who wake up when their masters call, not those who do their best to pretend they did not hear!” He flashed a cruel grin, his yellowed teeth only serving to further ignite Ellion’s temper. “But I suppose you must have something…let us see…” Ellion watched as the old man stalked from the tiny student chamber back into his large master’s room. He returned moments later grasping a thin stale bit of bread, extending it to Ellion while still wearing his cruel grin.
“There you are boy. Oh, but mind the mold.” The old master cackled bitterly and moved to begin pulling scrolls from a large old bookcase, the only piece of furniture in the room besides the slab that the man had the audacity to call a “bed”.
Ellion examined the bread for a few moments before placing the least-moldy piece in his mouth. The dry, rank taste of it made him gag, and he spit it back onto the floor. The old master turned slowly, and Ellion knew immediately that he had made a mistake.
“Is my food not to your liking, boy?” Ellion knew better than to take the bait. He dropped his eyes and tried to avoid eye contact. He heard the soft shuffling of the master’s walk as the old man approached. The man’s voice grew to a barely-audible whisper. “I asked you a question, boy.” Ellion said nothing.
Suddenly, Ellion felt a hot surge of pain ripple across his back. Ellion dropped to his knees as a second blow came to fall. Tears began to well in the boy’s eyes as he looked up at the old master. The old man simply glared at the boy; there was no lash in his hand, though the look in his eyes betrayed a darker sort of punishment.
Another burst of pain brought a yelp from Ellion’s mouth, and he found himself struggling to keep upright. He braced himself for another lash when he heard a gasp escape the old man’s lips. Ellion used the moment of respite to gather his composure, only to notice that there was suddenly another person in the room standing before him.
Wiping away the tears of pain, his gaze moved up the figure until he realized that the individual looked oddly familiar. It took a moment before he realized that the figure standing before him was…him.
The copycat rushed forward at the old man and Ellion cringed, afraid that the creature would crush his master. Instead, the doppelganger slid through him as though nothing was there. Within moments the old man wheeled, threw his hands up, and the doppelganger turned to mist before disappearing completely. The old master turned to Ellion, his mouth hanging open. With sudden haste, the man sped from the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
“You are done, boy! Done, I say!”
***
“But sir, I…I cannot go home a failure,” Ellion stated bluntly, his chest growing tighter each moment.
“Student Bast, I cannot allow one such as you at this school. I am sorry, but you must leave.” The elderly man’s beard dangled so low that Ellion wondered if it had still had color when it was last shaved. “A student who has an emotional response to magic is beyond our abilities to control. We are a small institution, our masters are volunteers, and you brand of power is too dangerous. I cannot put the lives of other students in danger because you have nowhere else to go.”
The words almost seemed foreign to Ellion.
“Sir, there is nothing dangerous about me…it will not happen again, I promise!”
The headmaster sighed and shook his head.
“You cannot promise me that, Student Bast. You want to promise me that, but you cannot. In the same way that one who does not feel love cannot make themselves take a paramour, you cannot control your emotions, at least not at this point. As I stated, it would take far more advanced training than we can guarantee here. This is not debatable. I do not care where you go, but you cannot stay here. Go, seek your fortune, return to your family, become a merchant. You cannot stay here.”
At that moment, Ellion was not sure which pain he felt hurt more; that which is old master had inflicted upon him or the words he was hearing currently.
“Unfortunately, Student Bast, there is one last matter that I must address. Ones such as yourself are dangerous not only to this school, but to those who live in the villages around our humble academy. It is for this reason that you must bare…a mark.” The elder’s eyes twitched briefly to Ellion’s wrist before back to the boy’s face.
Within moments, Ellion felt his arm begin to go numb. Slowly the numbness narrowed to his forearm, before settling on his wrist. Glancing at his wrist, he gasped: there now rested a red symbol upon his forearm where there had previously been none. It looked as though someone had pressed a cattle-prod onto his arm.
“Student Bast, I am so sorry.”