Morayel "Mortis" Seeverton
Posted: Wed Dec 12, 2012 3:59 am
Nickname: Mortis
Real Name: Morayel Seeverton
Age: 20
Race: Human
Height: 6ft 1in
Weight:160 to 170 pounds
Physical Description: Morayel, despite being very tall, is not very physically fit. He lacks large amounts of both fat and muscle, making him neither agile nor very strong. He has long honey blonde hair to his mid back, kept in a long and tidy pony tail. He has a neatly trimmed goatee that is the same color as his hair. While he is not the most handsome man ever, he has a certain charm.
Possessions:
>License to sell. An official document giving him the right to sell his wares in public.
>A small fist sized purple crystal that vibrates softly whenever he holds it. It does not vibrate when touched by anyone else. Deep within the crystal, dozens of tiny glittering red sparkles can be seen.
>A purse of 27 Bishani
>An ordinary steel dagger.
>He wears a harness that he designed himself, that distributes the weight of his wares across his body so that he can carry them comfortably. The various packs on the harness contain an assortment of exotic commodities, such as decorative glassware, gnomish gadgets and herbal incences. Also inside the harness are a number of illegal items hidden in secret pouches, such as mana stones and other magical items.
Powers or Strengths:
>Morayel is not skilled in martial arts or magic, but persuasion. He has a knack for getting others to change their minds or convincing potential customers that his wares are the best.
>He has a certain sense of ingenuity. He prefers to use his mind to conquer problems. For example, due to his physical weakness, lugging around his backpack would normally be difficult. But his harness design allows him to distribute the weight so he does not struggle to carry his goods.
>He has a strong will despite his weak body, giving him great mental strength. His will is strong enough that he can resist mental attacks that most don't even comprehend.
>His last strength comes from the purple crystal that he carries in his chest pocket wherever he goes. Morayel has no idea what the crystal is, or what it does. All he knows is that ever since he found it, it has brought him good fortune and kept danger at bay. Although it does have a downside...
Weaknesses:
>Morayel is not physically fit. He cannot run for more than half a minute without getting tired and he does all he can to avoid pain. The thought of visceral close combat frightens him.
>The same mysterious crystal that seems to give him good luck can also cause misfortune. Ever since he found the crystal, people that develop strong relationships with him tend to die shortly after. Becuase of this, he has never had a girlfriend. This "Aura of death" earned him the nickname "Mortis". It is a grim nickname but it has become the source of his infamy among merchants. Anyone who has heard of him is understandably reluctant to get to know him better.
>Despite having a silver tongue, he does not consider himself to be very confident. When he is not selling his goods, he is shy around strangers. Doubly so for girls.
>He is not content with just selling regular goods. He believes strongly in the belief that if people are willing to buy it, then he is willing to sell it. He has managed to avoid trouble so far, but that means that he has not yet learnt the boundaries of the law.
>Despite having a strong will, Morayel does not feel the call of magic. Which is odd, as the mentally strong tend to have some connection to magic. Alas, he has no magical abilities whatsoever. (I know this is not a weakness but I'll leave it here as it is good to know.)
>Lastly, the only thing he truly treasures is his crystal. He does not know why, but it is precious to him. He would much rather betray a friend than lose his crystal.
>Personality.
The personality of Morayel is one that is full of contradictions. He is gifted with a silver tongue, and uses it well to sell his merchandise, yet he stutters and falls over his words when in average social situations. Especially with girls. He has an unusually strong will, yet is also easily decieved and fooled. Usually by himself mind you, over analysing things and what not. He is prone to acts of both heroism and cowardice.
One thing that can be said for certain is that Morayel's mind as a whole is unusual. Perhaps that is why tricks of the mind fail to be effective against him. He has firm and unshakeable beliefs, yet also has an open mind and is tolerant of others. He can be calm and logical one minute, and then firey and unreasonable the next. The best way to describe his mind is as if it were an ocean. You never know what you are going to get. Rough storms or smooth sailing. It is impossible to predict. Some have accused him of being somewhat wrong in the head. Who knows, Maybe they are right.
His mental state as of late has become a little more depressing. He enjoys the good fortune that comes from his crystal, and yet is also saddened by the aura of death it seems to radiate. Deep inside, he despises the crystal. He knows he can never live a normal life while he has it. he will never have a girlfriend. Never have children. Never have a business partner. Hell, never even have a really good friend. But the crystal has a certain... appeal to it. It could allow him to accomplish dreams that might not otherwise have been possible. Either way, he is extremely attached to it. While he would deny that he cares for it, he most certainly does. He cares for it to the point where he would stab a friend in the back in order to retrieve it.
So who is Morayel? A hero? A villian? A victim? He doesn't know. Is his destiny in his hands, for him to forge as he sees fit? Or is there an unseen hand at work, guiding him towards his doom? Only time will tell.
History: Morayel remembers little of his childhood. He rememebers that he used to live in a small desert town, the name of which eludes him. His mother died in childbirth, a source of great sorrow for him. His father was a blacksmith, and he quickly developed an interest in bartering. He would mention his father's shop as much as possible and convince people to shop there. He became successful at attracting business to the shop, and his father suggested that he become a merchant.
And so, when he came of age, his father gave him a large sum of money and Morayel ventured off to explore the world, buying hugh and selling low. He quickly picked up the basics of being a merchant and made an average living. He was pretty lazy, and preferred convincing others to do all the hard work for him. He'd tag along on merchant caravans and generally hitch a ride from place to place. When he hit 20, 2 years after becoming a merchant, something happened that would change his life forever.
He had hitched a ride with a small caravan consisting of 4 other merchants, 8 armed guards and half a dozen wagons. The caravan stopped for the night and the group quickly set up a campsite and campfire. He and the 4 other merchants laughed and talked into the night, until each retired to their tent to sleep. Morayel was awoken from his sleep by the sound of muffled groans. He exited his tent to check on the others, and to his horror, found all of the merchants and guards lying dead on the floor, their faces shrunken and deformed. He heard a yell to his left, and saw the last surviving guard go sailing past his head, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. What the hell had the strength to fling a man like that!?
Before he could decide what to do, a tall woman stepped out from behind one of the tents. She was both beautiful and terrible to behold, and was clearly not from this world. Her eyes seemed to burn with an unholy fire, and her wicked smile made his blood run cold. She approached him slowly, wearing nothing at all, continuing to smile her devilish grin. Morayel was frozen to the spot by fear. All he could manage was a few desperate words.
"Who- What... WHAT ARE YOU!?"
The woman raised her hand and slowly traced the outline of his lips with her finger.
"Shhhhh" She whispered to him. "Just relax. I'll make this quick."
Suddenly taking on a more venomous tone, she stared right into his eyes.
"Now, kneel before me and join your friends in my embrace."
Morayel felt an overwhelming urge to do as he was told. He could feel his knees begin to buckle, but he fought the mental command with all his will.
"No..." He mumbled.
The woman seemed genuinely taken aback by what he had said.
"No?" She asked softly "Don't you want to feel my warm embrace to just... let go and be free?
She took a finger and slowly traced his collar bone. Flashes of ecstacy ran through him, and he could feel her words in his mind. But his will was unusually strong. He did not kneel and he did not yield. Suddenly, he felt her leash on him snap, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Instantly, he siezed the opportunity and angrily pushed her back from him.
"I said NO!" He roared furiously. "I don't know what you are, and I don't care. But you will not take me as easily as you took the others!"
The woman seemed shocked, but made no counter attack. She simply tilted her head to the side in interest.
"Foolish boy." She said to him. "If I wanted to kill you I could do so in an instant! But there is something about you... An inner fire the likes of which I have never seen. And it really turns me on."
Suddenly, she vanished. Just as quickly as she had arrived. Morayel collapsed in exhaustion. Who the hell was she? How did she get here? Such questions were things he could never answer. Seconds after collapsing, he fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke he found himself in a comfortable bed. Confused, he got up and looked out of the window. He had arrived at his caravan's destination! But how did he get here? Was it all just a dream? Morayel shook such thoughts from his mind and decided to focus on the here and now. He found his possesions neatly piled in the corner and he proceeded to get dressed. As he pulled his shirt on, he felt something hard in the chest pocket. He fished the object out, and found a fist sized purple crystal and a note. The note said:
"To my darling Morayel. Take this crystal and know that my love comes with it. Carry it always."
Morayel read the note in confusion and wondered who on earth could have written that. Did he have too much to drink and slept with a wealthy woman or something? Oh well. He pocketed the crystal and the note. He had work to do.
Over the next few months, his fortunes as a trader seemed to improve. Bandits never attacked him, and he never recieved an angry complaint from a customer. Unfortunately, any business partners that he tried to join up with died several days later. He was nicknamed "Mortis", the latin word for Death, as all who got close to him seemed to mysteriously die. Morayel adopted the nickname, and began calling himself Mortis wherever he went. The infamy was good for short term business, but horrible for partnerships.
And now, Mortis heads towards the city of Marn on foot. He had heard rumors about Marn and figured it was a good place to set up shop. The city guard was apparently very strong, so security wouldn't be a problem. As Mortis thought about what lay ahead in Marn, he clutched the purple crystal in his hand. It gently vibrated in his grip. He looked down at it and smiled. He wished he could thank whoever had given him it. Whoever it was must really have feelings for him to give him such a gift.
(Okay. Thank you for reading all of that. Please feel free to criticise and point out things you have questions about. In case you haven't already figured it out, his crystal falls under the category of "Hidden powers" Any mods feel free to PM me and I'll tell you what is going on behind the scenes. Although it is fairly easy to figure out if you stop and think for a second.
)
Real Name: Morayel Seeverton
Age: 20
Race: Human
Height: 6ft 1in
Weight:160 to 170 pounds
Physical Description: Morayel, despite being very tall, is not very physically fit. He lacks large amounts of both fat and muscle, making him neither agile nor very strong. He has long honey blonde hair to his mid back, kept in a long and tidy pony tail. He has a neatly trimmed goatee that is the same color as his hair. While he is not the most handsome man ever, he has a certain charm.
Possessions:
>License to sell. An official document giving him the right to sell his wares in public.
>A small fist sized purple crystal that vibrates softly whenever he holds it. It does not vibrate when touched by anyone else. Deep within the crystal, dozens of tiny glittering red sparkles can be seen.
>A purse of 27 Bishani
>An ordinary steel dagger.
>He wears a harness that he designed himself, that distributes the weight of his wares across his body so that he can carry them comfortably. The various packs on the harness contain an assortment of exotic commodities, such as decorative glassware, gnomish gadgets and herbal incences. Also inside the harness are a number of illegal items hidden in secret pouches, such as mana stones and other magical items.
Powers or Strengths:
>Morayel is not skilled in martial arts or magic, but persuasion. He has a knack for getting others to change their minds or convincing potential customers that his wares are the best.
>He has a certain sense of ingenuity. He prefers to use his mind to conquer problems. For example, due to his physical weakness, lugging around his backpack would normally be difficult. But his harness design allows him to distribute the weight so he does not struggle to carry his goods.
>He has a strong will despite his weak body, giving him great mental strength. His will is strong enough that he can resist mental attacks that most don't even comprehend.
>His last strength comes from the purple crystal that he carries in his chest pocket wherever he goes. Morayel has no idea what the crystal is, or what it does. All he knows is that ever since he found it, it has brought him good fortune and kept danger at bay. Although it does have a downside...
Weaknesses:
>Morayel is not physically fit. He cannot run for more than half a minute without getting tired and he does all he can to avoid pain. The thought of visceral close combat frightens him.
>The same mysterious crystal that seems to give him good luck can also cause misfortune. Ever since he found the crystal, people that develop strong relationships with him tend to die shortly after. Becuase of this, he has never had a girlfriend. This "Aura of death" earned him the nickname "Mortis". It is a grim nickname but it has become the source of his infamy among merchants. Anyone who has heard of him is understandably reluctant to get to know him better.
>Despite having a silver tongue, he does not consider himself to be very confident. When he is not selling his goods, he is shy around strangers. Doubly so for girls.
>He is not content with just selling regular goods. He believes strongly in the belief that if people are willing to buy it, then he is willing to sell it. He has managed to avoid trouble so far, but that means that he has not yet learnt the boundaries of the law.
>Despite having a strong will, Morayel does not feel the call of magic. Which is odd, as the mentally strong tend to have some connection to magic. Alas, he has no magical abilities whatsoever. (I know this is not a weakness but I'll leave it here as it is good to know.)
>Lastly, the only thing he truly treasures is his crystal. He does not know why, but it is precious to him. He would much rather betray a friend than lose his crystal.
>Personality.
The personality of Morayel is one that is full of contradictions. He is gifted with a silver tongue, and uses it well to sell his merchandise, yet he stutters and falls over his words when in average social situations. Especially with girls. He has an unusually strong will, yet is also easily decieved and fooled. Usually by himself mind you, over analysing things and what not. He is prone to acts of both heroism and cowardice.
One thing that can be said for certain is that Morayel's mind as a whole is unusual. Perhaps that is why tricks of the mind fail to be effective against him. He has firm and unshakeable beliefs, yet also has an open mind and is tolerant of others. He can be calm and logical one minute, and then firey and unreasonable the next. The best way to describe his mind is as if it were an ocean. You never know what you are going to get. Rough storms or smooth sailing. It is impossible to predict. Some have accused him of being somewhat wrong in the head. Who knows, Maybe they are right.
His mental state as of late has become a little more depressing. He enjoys the good fortune that comes from his crystal, and yet is also saddened by the aura of death it seems to radiate. Deep inside, he despises the crystal. He knows he can never live a normal life while he has it. he will never have a girlfriend. Never have children. Never have a business partner. Hell, never even have a really good friend. But the crystal has a certain... appeal to it. It could allow him to accomplish dreams that might not otherwise have been possible. Either way, he is extremely attached to it. While he would deny that he cares for it, he most certainly does. He cares for it to the point where he would stab a friend in the back in order to retrieve it.
So who is Morayel? A hero? A villian? A victim? He doesn't know. Is his destiny in his hands, for him to forge as he sees fit? Or is there an unseen hand at work, guiding him towards his doom? Only time will tell.
History: Morayel remembers little of his childhood. He rememebers that he used to live in a small desert town, the name of which eludes him. His mother died in childbirth, a source of great sorrow for him. His father was a blacksmith, and he quickly developed an interest in bartering. He would mention his father's shop as much as possible and convince people to shop there. He became successful at attracting business to the shop, and his father suggested that he become a merchant.
And so, when he came of age, his father gave him a large sum of money and Morayel ventured off to explore the world, buying hugh and selling low. He quickly picked up the basics of being a merchant and made an average living. He was pretty lazy, and preferred convincing others to do all the hard work for him. He'd tag along on merchant caravans and generally hitch a ride from place to place. When he hit 20, 2 years after becoming a merchant, something happened that would change his life forever.
He had hitched a ride with a small caravan consisting of 4 other merchants, 8 armed guards and half a dozen wagons. The caravan stopped for the night and the group quickly set up a campsite and campfire. He and the 4 other merchants laughed and talked into the night, until each retired to their tent to sleep. Morayel was awoken from his sleep by the sound of muffled groans. He exited his tent to check on the others, and to his horror, found all of the merchants and guards lying dead on the floor, their faces shrunken and deformed. He heard a yell to his left, and saw the last surviving guard go sailing past his head, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. What the hell had the strength to fling a man like that!?
Before he could decide what to do, a tall woman stepped out from behind one of the tents. She was both beautiful and terrible to behold, and was clearly not from this world. Her eyes seemed to burn with an unholy fire, and her wicked smile made his blood run cold. She approached him slowly, wearing nothing at all, continuing to smile her devilish grin. Morayel was frozen to the spot by fear. All he could manage was a few desperate words.
"Who- What... WHAT ARE YOU!?"
The woman raised her hand and slowly traced the outline of his lips with her finger.
"Shhhhh" She whispered to him. "Just relax. I'll make this quick."
Suddenly taking on a more venomous tone, she stared right into his eyes.
"Now, kneel before me and join your friends in my embrace."
Morayel felt an overwhelming urge to do as he was told. He could feel his knees begin to buckle, but he fought the mental command with all his will.
"No..." He mumbled.
The woman seemed genuinely taken aback by what he had said.
"No?" She asked softly "Don't you want to feel my warm embrace to just... let go and be free?
She took a finger and slowly traced his collar bone. Flashes of ecstacy ran through him, and he could feel her words in his mind. But his will was unusually strong. He did not kneel and he did not yield. Suddenly, he felt her leash on him snap, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Instantly, he siezed the opportunity and angrily pushed her back from him.
"I said NO!" He roared furiously. "I don't know what you are, and I don't care. But you will not take me as easily as you took the others!"
The woman seemed shocked, but made no counter attack. She simply tilted her head to the side in interest.
"Foolish boy." She said to him. "If I wanted to kill you I could do so in an instant! But there is something about you... An inner fire the likes of which I have never seen. And it really turns me on."
Suddenly, she vanished. Just as quickly as she had arrived. Morayel collapsed in exhaustion. Who the hell was she? How did she get here? Such questions were things he could never answer. Seconds after collapsing, he fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke he found himself in a comfortable bed. Confused, he got up and looked out of the window. He had arrived at his caravan's destination! But how did he get here? Was it all just a dream? Morayel shook such thoughts from his mind and decided to focus on the here and now. He found his possesions neatly piled in the corner and he proceeded to get dressed. As he pulled his shirt on, he felt something hard in the chest pocket. He fished the object out, and found a fist sized purple crystal and a note. The note said:
"To my darling Morayel. Take this crystal and know that my love comes with it. Carry it always."
Morayel read the note in confusion and wondered who on earth could have written that. Did he have too much to drink and slept with a wealthy woman or something? Oh well. He pocketed the crystal and the note. He had work to do.
Over the next few months, his fortunes as a trader seemed to improve. Bandits never attacked him, and he never recieved an angry complaint from a customer. Unfortunately, any business partners that he tried to join up with died several days later. He was nicknamed "Mortis", the latin word for Death, as all who got close to him seemed to mysteriously die. Morayel adopted the nickname, and began calling himself Mortis wherever he went. The infamy was good for short term business, but horrible for partnerships.
And now, Mortis heads towards the city of Marn on foot. He had heard rumors about Marn and figured it was a good place to set up shop. The city guard was apparently very strong, so security wouldn't be a problem. As Mortis thought about what lay ahead in Marn, he clutched the purple crystal in his hand. It gently vibrated in his grip. He looked down at it and smiled. He wished he could thank whoever had given him it. Whoever it was must really have feelings for him to give him such a gift.
(Okay. Thank you for reading all of that. Please feel free to criticise and point out things you have questions about. In case you haven't already figured it out, his crystal falls under the category of "Hidden powers" Any mods feel free to PM me and I'll tell you what is going on behind the scenes. Although it is fairly easy to figure out if you stop and think for a second.
)