Damion Marka
Posted: Tue Feb 17, 2009 9:17 pm
Name : Damion Marka
Age : 22
Race : Human
Height : 5'10''
Weight : 64 kgs
Hair color : Red
Eye color : Grey
Build : Thin, skinny
History:
Damion was born a bastard. His mother - Ilyena - had been one of the prettiest women in the seedier places of Marn, and it had only been inevitable that she be impregnated by the filth that populated the drains of Marn. And, the logical chain of events had eventually pushed her into the world of prostitution as well. She had pleased the lord of the council; she had even made battlemages tremble. But desperate friends made for desperate gifts. It had been one of the incurable diseases of the loins, eating her from the inside slowly until she succumbed to it.
All this, Damion had watched dispassionately from the dim corners of their house. His mother had only been the woman that fed him and clothed him. Nothing more. She had never spoken a word of love, nor a smile at his direction. Her breasts had fed every other man but Damion.
Damion's only real family was Luther - a local wise man. Luther was a prophet without a beard - a saint without a soul. His words hardened Damion's heart and made him see shades of grey. Luther had told him about the Seal and its eventual breaking. Luther had taught him about mankind's eventual ascension to the pinnacle of existence. All the other creatures were just uncultured beasts - useful, but dispensable.
Tragedy struck further in the life of Damion, with the discovery that reality held little meaning for him. It had happened the night after his mother's death. By the wavering candlelight in the deathly room. The fire seemed to hold no light. The candle had seemed like an illusion. The flame had moved like a harlem dancer, tempting him into a dark pit. Something seemed to pulse just beyond reach, out of sight. Something real and solid - more real than the hard ground beneath his feet. Something dark and alive. He reached out.
Black ribbons had laced out of the walls like tendrils of death. The candle had been twisted out of shape, molten wax seeping like blood from a dying soldier. The walls seemed to stretch and breathe in despair - at the birth of the darkness in Damion.
Since then, Damion lived in a state of terror and silent wonder. It was his secret - not to be told even to Luther. This was not a curse, Damion knew. A gift. To get back at the world that had plotted against him. Not the gutters and the garbage anymore. He knew there was a deeper meaning in his being able to bend reality so. He needed to know more. What was that about the Seal? He knew he needed more. Life seemed duller when he couldn't reach the pulsating pool of dark, scintillating magic.
Magical strength : Over the two years of slowly self-teaching magical ability in secluded woods near Shim or in the dark reaches of his home (not to mention two years of evading questions about curious accidents near his house), Damion has gained a decent control of fire. He can, at present, manipulate fire and handle it on a tiny scale. He is comfortable handling fire but has a lot more to learn before he can become adept at it. And, very recently has Damion realised a new potential in him. A scary potential. Damion is able to project images of illusion in others' minds. He had discovered that when he had desperately wanted money from the pawnbroker. He also has an innate, if however marginal, ability to resist magical mental intrusion.
Magical potential : Damion knows there is more to that ability than just projecting images. Damion, could, eventually, be able to make those images real! He could project a horde of angry bees and the they could be there! But more than that, could he actually peer through the cracks in the seal and release the astral dimensions as personal hells for the people? Could he suck in magic from the nether regions and make the world as morbid as his heart? As of now, Damion can only ponder at these questions, if indeed, these questions have arisen in his head at all! He has a lot to learn before he can even think of doing something like that.
Physical strength : Damion has a light body and is a good runner. He is more flexible than strong, and more dextrous than powerful. He can wield a short sword quite deftly - result of a stunted childhood in the darker streets of Marn.
Physical weaknesses : Damion is not too good with heavy weapons like hammer or battleaxe, and nor is he any good with a sword at the moment. Also, he is not a great defender of precision attack. He can outmaneuver a wrestler, but he cannot outsmart one who prefers speed and precision to strength.
Magical weaknesses : Anything beyond the size of a bonfire, or beyond the heat of a coal fire, Damion can't control. He goes easily out of control when playing with any elements besides fire and has learnt to not try. Currently, his ability of Astral Projection is very weak. It is nowhere near a considerable power against anyone but the most dim minded. Even if it develops, he can be resisted by anyone with a focussed and a strong mind, not given to illusions and mental attacks. People schooled in magical defense of the mind can easily resist his naive advances while, for non-magic people, it would require a higher mental strength.
Possessions : Damion has inherited the run-down little house near the brothels from his mother. He owns a small vegetable stall in the downtown area and makes his living with it. He has a cart and a pony - Belal - that he uses to travel to Shim to get his vegetable produce. He also has a sturdy, regular short sword that he carries with him.
Current whereabouts : Damion can usually be found near the brothels in the downtown area, at the taverns if not near the markets. He runs a vegetable market - and travels often to Shim to buy his produce.
Age : 22
Race : Human
Height : 5'10''
Weight : 64 kgs
Hair color : Red
Eye color : Grey
Build : Thin, skinny
History:
Damion was born a bastard. His mother - Ilyena - had been one of the prettiest women in the seedier places of Marn, and it had only been inevitable that she be impregnated by the filth that populated the drains of Marn. And, the logical chain of events had eventually pushed her into the world of prostitution as well. She had pleased the lord of the council; she had even made battlemages tremble. But desperate friends made for desperate gifts. It had been one of the incurable diseases of the loins, eating her from the inside slowly until she succumbed to it.
All this, Damion had watched dispassionately from the dim corners of their house. His mother had only been the woman that fed him and clothed him. Nothing more. She had never spoken a word of love, nor a smile at his direction. Her breasts had fed every other man but Damion.
Damion's only real family was Luther - a local wise man. Luther was a prophet without a beard - a saint without a soul. His words hardened Damion's heart and made him see shades of grey. Luther had told him about the Seal and its eventual breaking. Luther had taught him about mankind's eventual ascension to the pinnacle of existence. All the other creatures were just uncultured beasts - useful, but dispensable.
Tragedy struck further in the life of Damion, with the discovery that reality held little meaning for him. It had happened the night after his mother's death. By the wavering candlelight in the deathly room. The fire seemed to hold no light. The candle had seemed like an illusion. The flame had moved like a harlem dancer, tempting him into a dark pit. Something seemed to pulse just beyond reach, out of sight. Something real and solid - more real than the hard ground beneath his feet. Something dark and alive. He reached out.
Black ribbons had laced out of the walls like tendrils of death. The candle had been twisted out of shape, molten wax seeping like blood from a dying soldier. The walls seemed to stretch and breathe in despair - at the birth of the darkness in Damion.
Since then, Damion lived in a state of terror and silent wonder. It was his secret - not to be told even to Luther. This was not a curse, Damion knew. A gift. To get back at the world that had plotted against him. Not the gutters and the garbage anymore. He knew there was a deeper meaning in his being able to bend reality so. He needed to know more. What was that about the Seal? He knew he needed more. Life seemed duller when he couldn't reach the pulsating pool of dark, scintillating magic.
Magical strength : Over the two years of slowly self-teaching magical ability in secluded woods near Shim or in the dark reaches of his home (not to mention two years of evading questions about curious accidents near his house), Damion has gained a decent control of fire. He can, at present, manipulate fire and handle it on a tiny scale. He is comfortable handling fire but has a lot more to learn before he can become adept at it. And, very recently has Damion realised a new potential in him. A scary potential. Damion is able to project images of illusion in others' minds. He had discovered that when he had desperately wanted money from the pawnbroker. He also has an innate, if however marginal, ability to resist magical mental intrusion.
Magical potential : Damion knows there is more to that ability than just projecting images. Damion, could, eventually, be able to make those images real! He could project a horde of angry bees and the they could be there! But more than that, could he actually peer through the cracks in the seal and release the astral dimensions as personal hells for the people? Could he suck in magic from the nether regions and make the world as morbid as his heart? As of now, Damion can only ponder at these questions, if indeed, these questions have arisen in his head at all! He has a lot to learn before he can even think of doing something like that.
Physical strength : Damion has a light body and is a good runner. He is more flexible than strong, and more dextrous than powerful. He can wield a short sword quite deftly - result of a stunted childhood in the darker streets of Marn.
Physical weaknesses : Damion is not too good with heavy weapons like hammer or battleaxe, and nor is he any good with a sword at the moment. Also, he is not a great defender of precision attack. He can outmaneuver a wrestler, but he cannot outsmart one who prefers speed and precision to strength.
Magical weaknesses : Anything beyond the size of a bonfire, or beyond the heat of a coal fire, Damion can't control. He goes easily out of control when playing with any elements besides fire and has learnt to not try. Currently, his ability of Astral Projection is very weak. It is nowhere near a considerable power against anyone but the most dim minded. Even if it develops, he can be resisted by anyone with a focussed and a strong mind, not given to illusions and mental attacks. People schooled in magical defense of the mind can easily resist his naive advances while, for non-magic people, it would require a higher mental strength.
Possessions : Damion has inherited the run-down little house near the brothels from his mother. He owns a small vegetable stall in the downtown area and makes his living with it. He has a cart and a pony - Belal - that he uses to travel to Shim to get his vegetable produce. He also has a sturdy, regular short sword that he carries with him.
Current whereabouts : Damion can usually be found near the brothels in the downtown area, at the taverns if not near the markets. He runs a vegetable market - and travels often to Shim to buy his produce.