Grimmel Lazarin EVERY SCAR TELLS A STORY "Why Love, when you can Hate?" My life is none of your business. Appearance Date of Birth: 10th Day of Winter, 497 AV Race: Human Gender: Male Profession: Dreamer Fluent: Common Tongue Poor: Ancient Tongue Basic: Symenos "I've no time to worry for appearance. There is work to be done." "Sleep is just another scam invented by the gods to oppress us." Grimmel is rarely seen unclothed, and for good reason. His body is covered in horrid scars and burns. They make him sick to see, as each of them reminds him of some trauma he has tried to forget. With his slim figure and modest height of 5’7’’, he is hardly an imposing figure. His most recognizable feature is his hair, naturally red, though darkened by filth. Due to lack of care, his hair has formed into matted dreadlocks that’ve twisted together at random, and has not been cut for over a decade. Often avoiding sleep, his sunken eyes are always accompanied by bags and dark circles. His face is rigid and defined, with gaunt cheeks and a pointed chin. The pale skin and ghastly features he bears have at times led strangers to think him a Nuit. Grimmel has a distinct musky odor that is some horrid blend of oil, sweat, and cat urine. No amount of washing seems to remove this stink from his body or clothes. By now he has gotten used to it, as well as being called a "vagik". Always dressed in the same dark garb, he is rarely caught without his trench coat, satchel and boots, all made of fine black leather. On his belt is a pouch that holds his throwing daggers, and next to it his waterskin. Also carried, tucked away within his satchel, are a cold iron dagger, art supplies, and a religious scripture on Sagallius. Grimmel makes it a point to try to avoid the attention of others. He keeps to himself, even in the way he walks. Quickly, quietly, arms tight to his sides. He watches everything and everyone around him, and never ceases to look suspicious for a moment. It does not take one long to realize that there is something off about Grimmel, even without direct interaction. Grimmel’s voice is harsh on the ears. He speaks in a low tone, almost like a whisper, with a prominent hissing in his annunciation. One of his many uncouth tendencies is to increase the speed and volume of his speech as he becomes more excited or agitated. There is a certain confidence to his words that contradicts his body language. The matter-of-fact way he presents his words gives a sense of assuredness. As if it was the only thing stable about the man. Feelings are like secrets, meant to be kept quiet. Personality "There are three things that I have dedicated my life to. Each a piece of me that I am rendered broken without. First is simple, as it is with any. My life is but a humble performance for the gods. Second, if I must say it, is my magic. There are countless truths to be found within its endless depths. Lastly, and most importantly, are my cats. They give me purpose, and affection, and have the poorest judgement. Nobody messes with my cats." "Everything is justifiable, depending on who you have to answer to." Grimmel is a man who only realized what he had to lose after it had slipped from his grasp. Born to a prominent family, life should have been easy for him, even without a father. Though his mother was a cold, heartless woman. She left scars upon his heart that he still bears to this day. They manifest in the form of doubt and insecurity. A sense of not belonging, not having a purpose. It is for this reason that he so fervorously sought out magic. As big a mistake as any can make. It cost him dearly. At the age of twelve, Grimmel was made a slave by a wizard. Forced to learn magic in order to survive, he prayed everyday to any god who would hear him. He was one of many forced into that horrid nightmare. There were so many others he saw cast into the Void. It was the most horrifying fate that he could imagine. To have one’s soul cast into the Void had implications. The wizard that enslaved them threatened that in the Void, one could not reincarnate, and would be damned to wander as a ghost for all of eternity. In order to avoid that horrible fate, Grimmel did whatever he had to. Mortal fear drove him to desperation, and without morality to hinder him, he committed atrocities that change a person forever. Though to be the only person to avoid such a ghastly fate does leave one with more than a bit of guilt. The faces of the Voided apprentices still haunt his dreams. For this reason he avoids sleep as much as possible. All things change in time. Adversity hardens the mind and body. Boy’s become men, and trade their youth for wisdom. Grimmel had not yet become wise, nor did he feel quite like a man. In his heart he still felt he had years of progress to make up for. Opportunities he had missed. A squandered potential, and a destiny that he hid from. But no longer would this be the case. He could never go back to who he was, and he could never undo the choices he had made. Grimmel holds a firm resolve to reclaim his potential and uphold his family name. He seeks to serve Rhysol as a member of the Ebonstryfe, which his family holds strong ties to. It is now his goal to gain status within the family, and within Ravok. Grimmel achieves his goals through cunning and shiestery. He is a liar, a manipulator, and trusts others as much as they should trust him. He is a man without loyalty, a sense of justice, or any common decency. The only time the truth slips from his lips is when it is inconvenient or harsh. Otherwise he will indulge in the pleasure of spreading misinformation. Anything worth knowing he seeks to learn, but never to share. His own secrets are precious treasure that he guards jealously. His most precious secrets are those pertaining to magic, and especially of his own practice. He firmly attests that he studies arcanology and nothing more. Any such accusations tend to get him worked up quite easily. Arcanology is just a hobby! Skills "Distant worlds, mysterious dimensions, the secrets of the soul. I seek a truth just out of reach." "I still have nightmares about the Void. That I have been swallowed by an endless darkness, embraced by the icy abyss. No sound, no light, just the feeling of panic and suffocation." Starting
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Mental
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Arcane
Tell me a secret and I'll always keep it. Lore "Magic terrifies and excites me. That's why I study it." "The hardest battles are not fought with our hands." Starting
Astral Coordinates: Anashis(SP) Lore of Daek-nuit(SP) Social
None Location
None Event
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Astral Coordinates: Anashis Lore of Daek-nuit Religious
None Anything can be replaced, even lives. Possessions "I am not fond of most things, but I do value the few things I can tolerate." "I do not own a thing. The cats have claimed it all." Equipment
Set of Clothing Scarf Waterskin Satchel Cold Iron Dagger Throwing Dagger (x10) Belt Pouch Artistry Traveler’s Toolkit Inscribing Paint Sewing Needle Blank Book Storage
High Quality Great Chest High Quality Large Chest High Quality Small Chest (x2) Large Cage Medium Cage (x2) Small Cage Cats
Miss Puss-All black, short hair, green eyes, and sweet as can be. Miss Puss is the smallest cat of the bunch. Quick to purr and always demands affection. She is gentle with people, but does not get along with the other cats. Bootsie Orion-Black and white, short hair, orange eyes, and more than a little wild. Boots is the biggest of the group, and has the most energy by far. She tries to play with the other cats, which is rarely taken as such. Boots starts a lot of fights. Peaches-Tabby, short hair, orange eyes, and unpredictable. One moment, she begs for attention, the next she attacks. Can be lazy or playful, sweet or mean, depending on her moods. Pubert-Black and white, long hair, blue eyes, and easily frightened. Pubert is a loner who gets picked on by the other cats. She often hides and is most commonly seen only in between spots. Housing
A small cabin located on the Ravokian Lakeshore. Though rather newly built, it is a small and shabby place, located on the outskirts of the small village. Within it are a hearth, bunk, set of chests, sets of cages, a table, a chair, and four cats that do as they please.The table is used as a work desk, and upon it is a book containing his arcanological findings Heirloom
Scripture of Sagallius: A small, leather-bound book, partially translated into the common tongue from the ancient tongue. The book tells of Sagallius, a man who ascended to godhood, and of his religion, Cordas. How one can gain power and influence through manipulation and deceit. It encourages the employment of guile and discretion as a way of life. Ledger
Share in a story, stranger. Threads "Life is too short to count days." "One must not dwell within the regrets of yesterday. Tomorrow is promised to none of us." Spring, 519
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