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Thread: Nexus Character Directory

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    Halfling in the Playground
     
    Murkus's Avatar

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    May 2010

    Default Re: Nexus Character Directory

    Sticks


    Alias: Peeler, Mister Sticks

    Gender: Male.

    Race/Species: Soulforged (Flesh and tech welded together with dozens of minor souls)

    Age: Fairly old.

    Alignment: Lawful Neutral/Lawful Evil, for the most part. He's not a terrible guy, though.

    Class/Profession: Merchant/Soul stitcher

    Power Rating: Scaleable.

    Description: Sticks is a tall, spindly creature of needle-thin parts and whirring gears. His limbs and torso are quite gangly, and though he is considerably thin, he is over six feet tall.

    His torso and arms are covered in swirling arcane sigils, marks of a Soulforged. These sigils glow when Sticks utilizes his soul magic. His body seems to be mostly flesh, or at least, mostly covered by skin. In many places the metal sticks out, and one can see parts pumping and shifting while he moves. His skin is a dark coal-grey with a light-blue phosphorescent glow all about it.

    Sticks' has a rounded, smooth face, with dark red hair that's typically combed down. His large, empty eyes are an abyssal white. His mouth is a long, thin slit with small, clever lips. His silver teeth and tongue gleam hungrily whenever he opens his mouth. His nose is long and steel along the bridge. His ears are long and pointy, like those of an elf.

    The final part of Sticks' description is a cloak, a massive, ragged thing tailored to suit his height. It glows with a myriad of colors, constantly shifting bits of a strange, sometimes glowing fabric. The patchwork, prismatic cloak is torn and tattered at the edges, as if Sticks were constantly sowing in new random bits of cloth. He can will it to look more like a beggar's rags if he so wishes, less glowy and magical.

    This magical cloak consists entirely of souls, some stolen, others bought. Some people even paid parts of their soul to Sticks. Yet still, despite it's creation, the cloak is beautiful to look upon.

    Ah, wait, I nearly forgot. Though both of Sticks' hands are long, spindly things of crude metal, his right hand is... different. It is a claw, a razor-tipped wiry weapon that seems to glimmer a translucent violet.

    Personality: Deals, deals, deals. Sticks' welfare, life, and happiness revolve around him making good deals. Deals for souls, deals for magic, deals for money. Sticks is a negotiator, a diplomat. He'll always prefer talking to fighting. He's got a silver tongue, literally, and will always try to find a compromise or deal that makes both parties happy.

    Sticks is slow to anger, slow to violence, and generally a hospitable guy. He's just... morally bankrupt, for the most part. Still, he has certain codes and self-enforced laws that he holds himself to. Manners he's got by the truckload.

    Generally violence seems pointless to him. There's no reason for it, so he doesn't do it. If he wants something, precisely applied force or feigned kindness are far swifter than a fight.

    Sticks is a coward. He's a runner, rarely a fighter, but he holds a certain resolve about him. He has hidden goals and motives that are difficult to pin down.

    Equipment: First and foremost, his Cloak of Souls. Check the Abilities section for what he can do with that. Oh, being made of souls, this cloak is nigh indestructible. Souls cannot be permanently destroyed, or so it is widely assumed.

    Beyond that, he possesses the occasional magic item and potion for assistance in... deals gone bad.

    As a weapon, his cloak can conceal a spear just as tall as he is, the tip of which is forged from the fiery soul of an Archmage. It can fire bolts of energy, and stab people pretty well. He can use it as a focus for his soul magic.

    Thanks to recent luck at the Thanksmas auction, Sticks has acquired a Wand of Rust, along with a set of potions stolen from HALO's vault:

    Includes 3 lust potions, 3 hate potions, 2 youth potions, 3 aging potions, 3 power-up potions, and 2 amnesia potions.
    Abilities: First and foremost, being a Soulforged, he's a bit more durable than your average human.

    With his Soulforged claw, Sticks can reach inside the spirit of most organic (and some inorganic) beings and tear out their souls, leaving them feeling hollow inside. If the Soulforged wants to, he can make it a gentle process. Or he can make the person feel excruciating pain, maybe even pass out. By slashing at people with his claw, Sticks can tear away parts of their soul. By the rules of Sticks world (which may not apply to every soul or living being, obviously) a person lacking a soul generally falls into a deep sleep resembling a coma, lacking any sort of energy, their empty vessel will gradually waste away. Of course this varies. Some people turn into hollow, lifeless versions of themselves, some people perish on the spot.

    These souls can be added to his cloak. Using his cloak, and other foci, Sticks can cast powerful spells through the souls, using them as weapons, shields, servants, summoning implements, amongst other things. This magical aura that constantly permeates his very being causes electronics around him to short out - car batteries, cell phones, computers. There's a reason he doesn't go in hospitals to barter for souls - he'd probably kill everybody on life support.

    Finally, Sticks can sense and see certain things about people's souls and auras, detect oddities and discover aspects of people's souls.

    That's all for now, I think. However, he might have further abilities related to these things, so don't blame me if he uses something that isn't listed here. However, I'll try to update it as best I can with new ideas/mentions.

    Backstory:

    As told by Sticks himself. Errors may be included, considering this was copied directly from IC posts and edited a little.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Sticks smiles at her and nods solemnly. "As you wish," He holds up a finger. "But I think I'd rather show you."

    The thin man makes his way back into the store proper. "Wait here a moment, please." And with that, he disappears upstairs. When he returns, he's holding a small, black wooden box in his hands. He holds it like a child - a precious, fragile thing. The artifact is covered in white lines, sigils to protect what's held inside.

    "I was, in a land far from here and now, the servant of a man called Kalashi." He smiles wanly, but still with that air of drama, placing the black box on the counter. "He was a king, and I his court magician. " A pause. "Also, for a time, his friend." Sticks arches his brow at Alice. "Do they have kings and courts where you come from, Miss Q?"

    Sticks is hoping that, as he tells his tale to Alice, he can learn a bit more about her. Understand what he'll have to teach and what she already knows, for one thing.

    "Kalashi was a, uh, little unstable. He would have these... fits of animosity, and as I'm sure you can understand, men die when kings have fits," The tall man's smile fades. "Such terrible rage. So much anger in one creature." He shakes his head. "I like to think I helped him, but that man was beyond help. It only got worse, as time went on."

    Sticks brushes the white runes with his fingertips, and some invisible lock clicks open. The lid flies open eagerly, and inside, an intense glow seeps out. At the bottom of the box, which seems to be far too large for it's contents, there's a tiny blob of red fire. Sticks plucks this from the box, caressing the dying fire. It leaps to life at his touch, turning white hot. It takes on a shape - like a tiny elf on a throne, face shining with silent anger. His face is propped on one meaty fist, an intense scowl on his troubled brow.

    "We were like brothers," Sticks says, looking at his old friend with longing in his eyes. "And as I grew closer to him, I also grew closer to family. To his daughter."

    Sticks flexes his fingers, hard, and the flame reignites, transforming into the vision of a radiant young woman, with clever eyes and a lovely smile. He looks frustrated, that even as a master of his craft, he cannot match her radiance. She's elfish, like Sticks himself, and slim. Dressed in an amber gown, trimmed with the thinnest gold. "She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen."

    "Her name was Mirdath," The word rolls quietly off of Sticks' silver tongue. "She was a smart girl. When I had the chance to speak to her - and I often stole such chances - she taught me about machines. She was smitten with these little things that walked with springs and cogs. I'd never seen anything like them, but I used to joke around her, call them her toys."

    Sticks turns and gestures at Bolts, who quickly flutters over to perch on his arm. The tall man sighs happily before letting the robot-bird go about his robot business. However, the busy Bolts seems to like Alice, and will attempt to land on her shoulder. "In time, I was tinkering right alongside her. We grew close, after a year or two, and..."

    The fire in Sticks' hand flashes again, transforming into a vision of himself and Mirdath. They seem to be holding one another in a more-than-friendly manner, but before the vision can be defined, Sticks squashes it into an inscrutable mass. He'd wanted to give a visual aid, not embarrass himself or the lady Mirdath. Besides, this isn't meant to be his whole life story. Just the part that matters for Alice.

    "And we grew close. It was an issue. As noblewomen often are, Alice was betrothed to the prince of a neighboring land. For purposes of peaceful relations. It's not like it is here - no such freedoms," Sticks scowls deeply. The flame in his hand burns with rage right along with him. "We weren't as cautious as we should've been. Kalashi's wife discovered us, and... the king was displeased." The flame almost shapes itself again, but Sticks hastily stows it back in the box. There's no need for Alice to see such things. "He had one of his fits. It was too late for either of us, by then. He stormed into my chambers, grabbed one of my instruments," Sticks holds up his needle-hand, the one surrounded by a violet field of magic. "And he shattered his own daughter. Smote her very spirit into pieces. Then in some grief-stricken madness, he tried to kill me. Blamed me for it."

    Sticks expression has turned dark. The thin man closes his black box gravely, face a little drawn. "He took my arm before I took his head. There were no guards near my workshop, where he'd come to confront the two of us, so I ran. Never even looked back." The soul-trader bows his head. "Secreted away in my home village, I used what Mirdath had taught me and built an arm. The contraption barely moved at all, but I kept it anyway." He shakes his head. "As time went by, and I got older, I just started replacing everything. Extending my life, numbing myself to pain. Plucked out my tongue, my eyes... my soul. I didn't want to end up like Mirdath." Sticks places a hand on the black box meaningfully. "I'm far older than I should be, Alice. All thanks to Mirdath, and ultimately, that whole tale."

    His tale finished, Sticks walks around the table and sits heavily. He looks like he could sit there well into the next age. Then, almost as if nothing had happened, he cracks a smile at Alice. "So the moral of the story, Miss Q, is this: Do not get used to that arm. The tall fellow holds up his slightly rusted arm, rattling it around for emphasis. "Listen well. You don't want this. Immortality, painless life... it takes a hold of you. It only takes one near-death experience, one terrible accident, as I should very well know. Eventually you'll do anything to cheat death."
    Last edited by Murkus; 2014-03-13 at 03:45 AM.
    My avatar was done by Gulaghar. Thanks again!

    "If you meet a spirit walking,
    Incline your head.
    Do not meet their gaze.
    Do not follow after."

    -Things Our Mothers Tell Us

    Nexus Characters