RE: The Search for Santinal
05-25-2012, 11:56 PM
Username: The Most Necessary SleepingOrange
Name: Quick Cloudmoon
Race: Grey elf. Grey elves are like elves, but more elfy and less colorful.
Gender: A well-read male
Text Color: The very funnest #333333 possible
Description: Quick is a fairly standard-issue elf run through a greyscale filter. He's tall and thin, attractive in an ethereal sort of way, has long, pointed ears and long, less-pointed limbs, and a general air of ease and grace that can make less-elfish sorts kind of want to punch him without realizing why. His skin is a bloodless-looking white, his hair ashen, and his eyes a dull cloudy grey.
On top of all that bland elfinity he piles gaudily-trimmed and eye-catchingly-dyed robes, covered in belts and pouches and holsters. His slender frame is dominated by an enormous backpack that forces him into a near-constant hunch, always leaning on the ornate staff he carries. Even his ostentatious wizard hat has a number of pockets and devices around the brim, as does the billowing multicolored cloak that flutters beneath his pack. All in all, the impression is of an elf who wanted his outfit to say on no uncertain terms "Hello, I am a wizard, pay attention to me", and was then attacked by a mad tailor with a pocket fetish.
Despite his overtly-magical appearance and bearing, Quick isn't as imposing a personality as he'd like to be. He does his best to effect the brash, near-power-mad cackling sort people often expect from traveling mages, but in his heart of hearts he was designed to be a quiet, bookish sort. He's knowledgable on a number of subjects, both magical and mundane, but not apt to speak up about them unless prompted or he feels like he needs to put on a show.
Inventory and Abilities: Quick is a wizard. What abilities do you expect him to have?
If you answered the obvious way, you're wrong. Well, you're also a bit right, but mostly wrong. Quick suffers from a condition that makes it impossible for his body to accumulate mana in large quantities or at any kind of reasonable speed. If he spent a few weeks carefully not exerting himself, he might be able to throw an unimpressive fireball or levitate for about thirty seconds. He knows how to cast many spells; he simply can't manage to cast them very often, or – in the case of the more powerful or esoteric ones – ever.
To that end, he has become an expert in the creation, maintenance, and use of magical devices. Wands, staves, rods, orbs, and all sorts of obviously-magical trinkets that pull mana from the air and channel it to one specific use are his particular specialty, but he's also a fair hand at magimechanical creations and other, more unusual fields. The fact that his only spellcasting ability is tied to the use and creation of tools and devices – most of which have little or no flexibility in their usage – combined with the fact that most of his pride is tied to his spellcasting ability account for the frankly ridiculous amount of gear Quick forces himself to carry.
In a more advanced world, he might have been called an arcane engineer; in a more traditional one, an enchanter. In this one, you'll call him a wizard or he'll make you regret it, or – if nobody's around to save face for – just quietly pout.
The sheer quantity of Quick's trinkets and tools mean it's impossible to describe everything he has on him in a reasonable space. Instead, it bears mentioning that his favorite combat tactic involves the use of wands that spray bolts of the various elements, so he's likely to have quite a few holstered at his belt. His greatest accomplishment, and what would be his pride and joy if he weren't ashamed of his specialty, is his staff; unlike most devices that store or channel spells, it can be used for seven different spells on a given theme, and with some time and materials, that theme can be changed. It's currently air-themed, with flashy spells like lightning bolts, whirlwinds, flight, and invisibility; he mostly uses it to appear to be a normal spellcaster to laypeople and casual acquaintances.
He also has a number of grimoires on his person and in his bag; it's hard – but not impossible – to make a device that effects a spell or effect he's not familiar with, so having references makes the design process a lot easier. He also has a personal diary and some research journals, the current one of which is filled with what sparse lore he could gather about Santinal.
Biography: Quick was born to the prestigious Cloudmoon family, a clan of aristocrats in the Dun Timberlands. A traditional lot, the Cloudmoons considered that the only suitable occupations for an elf were wizard, archer, or thief; naturally, a career in archery was simply too low-class for a noble Cloudmoon, and thievery didn't even bear mentioning. Elves have unusual ideas about theft and property, as evidenced by the Cloudmoons' belief that "thief" is an acceptable occupation in polite society, but it's still not something your average highborn would take up occupationally. This left Quick, as it had left his elder sister and the siblings that would follow him over the decades, with little choice, and he was shipped off to a prestigious magical school at the earliest opportunity.
It was here that his condition was discovered; it wasn't severe enough to allow him the opportunity to become a nullmage, but it was much too severe to make traditional magic a reasonable path. Were it not for his gift for magical theory – and more saliently, his doggedness borne from the reality that he'd leave the academy a wizard or a disgrace – he'd almost certainly have quit or been expelled. Instead, he simply adopted a courseload more suited to those abilities he had, growing over time to become the talented but self-denying artificer he would become.
Naturally, summers and holidays back home were tense and awkward affairs, filled with unsaid words and meaningful looks and an instinctual dislike for his siblings, but even a trinket-mage son was better than an archer or, god forbid, an alchemist.
It was a foregone conclusion that Quick would, upon graduating, not become a court sage or local wizard for anywhere within the Dun Timberlands; it would simply be too embarrassing for him and for his family. For a time, Quick considered settling down in a human settlement somewhere on the Emerald Plains or even taking up an ambassadorial exchange program with one of the dwarven kingdoms; humans had a much greater appreciation for devices both magical and mechanical than elves, and rumor had it that the dwarves had recently been coming into more and more fascinating applications for and knowledge about external magic. In the end, though, neither the thought of running a shop in some prosaic village or living a life on his knees in the dark appealed
Instead, Quick settled into the life of a traveling wizard; it was a good one for someone with an eye for magic items, and he'd always enjoyed learning about things from experience as well as from books. It also gave him the chance to give the appearance of a normal wizard, and to spread the Cloudmoon name beyond its native forests. He had long felt the only way to gain his family's respect was to increase its reputation by his actions, and if he got some excitement in the process, who was he to complain?
That all changed one day as he was passing through the border city of Sallingard; he made a point of perusing the libraries of whatever towns he found himself in, to broaden his horizons and to locate places nearby with potential to explore. One old tome in a forgotten corner caught his eye, and within its near-crumblng pages he learned of a device that could greatly empower any wizard who wielded it – and more importantly, gave the wielder the ability to store vast amounts of magic even if they had previously lacked the capability. Naturally, Quick became obsessed with the device and the lore surrounding it; it was disappointing to realize that it was said to have been a Santinalian invention, but he had already decided to pursue the device and was undeterred to find it was housed in a possibly-fictional city.
He set about learning all he could about Santinal and its collapse; when he finally had discovered all he felt he could – or, more accurately, could no longer restrain himself from the search – he went about gathering a group to explore the city with him. Adventuring in a group had become typical for Quick, and on top of that he was unconfident in his ability to find or survive the place on his own. The tales about Santinal's end and what might have been left afterwards were terrifying.
Unfortunately, in his eyes, the figures he approached to join him were almost-uniformly dismissive of the mission. Most regarded it as either not worth the effort, or patently ridiculous to even believe Santinal had existed. With his contacts from both his adventuring and academic days exhausted and no party formed, he desperately started advertising through fliers and magical messages delivered to whole towns. What leads he'd found suggested that Khagash was the best place to start looking, so he did his best to hopefully attract the attention of those others who might be interested in an expedition to Santinal and inform them of where he'd be.
At the moment, he's sitting in a small Khagashian tavern, hoping absolutely anyone will show up.
Name: Quick Cloudmoon
Race: Grey elf. Grey elves are like elves, but more elfy and less colorful.
Gender: A well-read male
Text Color: The very funnest #333333 possible
Description: Quick is a fairly standard-issue elf run through a greyscale filter. He's tall and thin, attractive in an ethereal sort of way, has long, pointed ears and long, less-pointed limbs, and a general air of ease and grace that can make less-elfish sorts kind of want to punch him without realizing why. His skin is a bloodless-looking white, his hair ashen, and his eyes a dull cloudy grey.
On top of all that bland elfinity he piles gaudily-trimmed and eye-catchingly-dyed robes, covered in belts and pouches and holsters. His slender frame is dominated by an enormous backpack that forces him into a near-constant hunch, always leaning on the ornate staff he carries. Even his ostentatious wizard hat has a number of pockets and devices around the brim, as does the billowing multicolored cloak that flutters beneath his pack. All in all, the impression is of an elf who wanted his outfit to say on no uncertain terms "Hello, I am a wizard, pay attention to me", and was then attacked by a mad tailor with a pocket fetish.
Despite his overtly-magical appearance and bearing, Quick isn't as imposing a personality as he'd like to be. He does his best to effect the brash, near-power-mad cackling sort people often expect from traveling mages, but in his heart of hearts he was designed to be a quiet, bookish sort. He's knowledgable on a number of subjects, both magical and mundane, but not apt to speak up about them unless prompted or he feels like he needs to put on a show.
Inventory and Abilities: Quick is a wizard. What abilities do you expect him to have?
If you answered the obvious way, you're wrong. Well, you're also a bit right, but mostly wrong. Quick suffers from a condition that makes it impossible for his body to accumulate mana in large quantities or at any kind of reasonable speed. If he spent a few weeks carefully not exerting himself, he might be able to throw an unimpressive fireball or levitate for about thirty seconds. He knows how to cast many spells; he simply can't manage to cast them very often, or – in the case of the more powerful or esoteric ones – ever.
To that end, he has become an expert in the creation, maintenance, and use of magical devices. Wands, staves, rods, orbs, and all sorts of obviously-magical trinkets that pull mana from the air and channel it to one specific use are his particular specialty, but he's also a fair hand at magimechanical creations and other, more unusual fields. The fact that his only spellcasting ability is tied to the use and creation of tools and devices – most of which have little or no flexibility in their usage – combined with the fact that most of his pride is tied to his spellcasting ability account for the frankly ridiculous amount of gear Quick forces himself to carry.
In a more advanced world, he might have been called an arcane engineer; in a more traditional one, an enchanter. In this one, you'll call him a wizard or he'll make you regret it, or – if nobody's around to save face for – just quietly pout.
The sheer quantity of Quick's trinkets and tools mean it's impossible to describe everything he has on him in a reasonable space. Instead, it bears mentioning that his favorite combat tactic involves the use of wands that spray bolts of the various elements, so he's likely to have quite a few holstered at his belt. His greatest accomplishment, and what would be his pride and joy if he weren't ashamed of his specialty, is his staff; unlike most devices that store or channel spells, it can be used for seven different spells on a given theme, and with some time and materials, that theme can be changed. It's currently air-themed, with flashy spells like lightning bolts, whirlwinds, flight, and invisibility; he mostly uses it to appear to be a normal spellcaster to laypeople and casual acquaintances.
He also has a number of grimoires on his person and in his bag; it's hard – but not impossible – to make a device that effects a spell or effect he's not familiar with, so having references makes the design process a lot easier. He also has a personal diary and some research journals, the current one of which is filled with what sparse lore he could gather about Santinal.
Biography: Quick was born to the prestigious Cloudmoon family, a clan of aristocrats in the Dun Timberlands. A traditional lot, the Cloudmoons considered that the only suitable occupations for an elf were wizard, archer, or thief; naturally, a career in archery was simply too low-class for a noble Cloudmoon, and thievery didn't even bear mentioning. Elves have unusual ideas about theft and property, as evidenced by the Cloudmoons' belief that "thief" is an acceptable occupation in polite society, but it's still not something your average highborn would take up occupationally. This left Quick, as it had left his elder sister and the siblings that would follow him over the decades, with little choice, and he was shipped off to a prestigious magical school at the earliest opportunity.
It was here that his condition was discovered; it wasn't severe enough to allow him the opportunity to become a nullmage, but it was much too severe to make traditional magic a reasonable path. Were it not for his gift for magical theory – and more saliently, his doggedness borne from the reality that he'd leave the academy a wizard or a disgrace – he'd almost certainly have quit or been expelled. Instead, he simply adopted a courseload more suited to those abilities he had, growing over time to become the talented but self-denying artificer he would become.
Naturally, summers and holidays back home were tense and awkward affairs, filled with unsaid words and meaningful looks and an instinctual dislike for his siblings, but even a trinket-mage son was better than an archer or, god forbid, an alchemist.
It was a foregone conclusion that Quick would, upon graduating, not become a court sage or local wizard for anywhere within the Dun Timberlands; it would simply be too embarrassing for him and for his family. For a time, Quick considered settling down in a human settlement somewhere on the Emerald Plains or even taking up an ambassadorial exchange program with one of the dwarven kingdoms; humans had a much greater appreciation for devices both magical and mechanical than elves, and rumor had it that the dwarves had recently been coming into more and more fascinating applications for and knowledge about external magic. In the end, though, neither the thought of running a shop in some prosaic village or living a life on his knees in the dark appealed
Instead, Quick settled into the life of a traveling wizard; it was a good one for someone with an eye for magic items, and he'd always enjoyed learning about things from experience as well as from books. It also gave him the chance to give the appearance of a normal wizard, and to spread the Cloudmoon name beyond its native forests. He had long felt the only way to gain his family's respect was to increase its reputation by his actions, and if he got some excitement in the process, who was he to complain?
That all changed one day as he was passing through the border city of Sallingard; he made a point of perusing the libraries of whatever towns he found himself in, to broaden his horizons and to locate places nearby with potential to explore. One old tome in a forgotten corner caught his eye, and within its near-crumblng pages he learned of a device that could greatly empower any wizard who wielded it – and more importantly, gave the wielder the ability to store vast amounts of magic even if they had previously lacked the capability. Naturally, Quick became obsessed with the device and the lore surrounding it; it was disappointing to realize that it was said to have been a Santinalian invention, but he had already decided to pursue the device and was undeterred to find it was housed in a possibly-fictional city.
He set about learning all he could about Santinal and its collapse; when he finally had discovered all he felt he could – or, more accurately, could no longer restrain himself from the search – he went about gathering a group to explore the city with him. Adventuring in a group had become typical for Quick, and on top of that he was unconfident in his ability to find or survive the place on his own. The tales about Santinal's end and what might have been left afterwards were terrifying.
Unfortunately, in his eyes, the figures he approached to join him were almost-uniformly dismissive of the mission. Most regarded it as either not worth the effort, or patently ridiculous to even believe Santinal had existed. With his contacts from both his adventuring and academic days exhausted and no party formed, he desperately started advertising through fliers and magical messages delivered to whole towns. What leads he'd found suggested that Khagash was the best place to start looking, so he did his best to hopefully attract the attention of those others who might be interested in an expedition to Santinal and inform them of where he'd be.
At the moment, he's sitting in a small Khagashian tavern, hoping absolutely anyone will show up.