Dwarf​

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Name: Isaac Shearer
Race: Human
Age: 200+ (Isaac has lost track of his age many years ago)

Hometown: Edmos, Virona. Located on the smaller island, Edmos was primarily a fishing and sailing village that gradually grew over the years as trade expanded in the region. Isaac made most of his successes there, before taking up the trade of wanderer.

Occupation: Isaac has a fairly diverse skill set, but his primary trade is that of a "fixer." He loathes the term of mercenary as he views the term as beneath him, but he essentially does whatever he needs to do within his skill set, moral code and personal preference.

Appearance: Isaac is a tall, fairly well built well built individual standing at about 6"1 (185cm) and weighing in at a modest 186 pounds (84 kg). Originally of a slighter build, Isaac has put some weight and muscle over the years of traveling, yet still has somewhat lanky limbs, being more balanced in his muscle distribution. Despite being outside and active, Isaac has not tanned in the slightest keeping his complexion peachy, but without blemishes outside of the occasional cut. He does, however, have an abundance of scars across his limbs, chest and back.

The years of have taken some toll on his appearance, as his medium length reddish brown hair looks as if a mop fell atop his head. Too lazy to comb or style it, Isaac allows the wind to do what it will. Luckily, Isaac's hair generally lays in a presentable fashion. Peering through a few loose strands of hair are a pair green eyes devoid of emotion or concern. His nose is fairly thin and not pronounced, proportional to his thin cheeks and longer face. He looks and feels youthful, though the aura he gives off is of a man that is well beyond his years.

Dressing well to remind himself of his more noble origins, Isaac wears a dark blue collared shirt, with a darker cloak over it for better enduring the elements. As if he expects to get down and dirty, Isaac rolls up his sleeves regularly. He wears blacks pants that match his cloak, held up by a black leather belt with a silver buckle. The casual look matches a hunched stature, hiding his height and a grim expression to ward off those beneath his attention.

Personality: Isaac was something of a paragon, but has become something of a renegade since he began traveling. Shedding his principles of peace and cooperation, Isaac lost much of the optimism and naive idealism he once had replacing the void with harsh realism and bitter spite. Isaac always assumes the worst will happen, and sees the worst in people acting under the assumption that everyone is as self interested as himself. He deals with people harshly and bluntly, near avoiding the truth by being overly honest. He's critical, judging, and unforgiving. Second chances are a novelty, as Isaac believes history is always repeating and experience is the best teacher. That being said, Isaac learns from his mistakes and is willing to change himself for the better, always striving to become a better person. This however sometimes bites him in the rear as Isaac dwells on his past mistakes, delving into bouts of depression. The fact his hindsight is always 20/20 can make Isaac beat himself up a bit too hard for his own good.

His lessons have not made him completely depressed and hopeless and instead have crafted Isaac into a mature, generally responsible and most importantly a crafty and intelligent individual. He approaches things with a carefully modeled plan in order achieve guaranteed success, now hating (though it may be more apt to say fearing) failure more than anything. As such Isaac can be conservative, relying on past experience above all else. He feels understands his role in the world as well, not going out of expected social norms unless necessary.

He is a responsible adult, who understands the importance of his work and does what is expected of him, only breaking the law when necessary or if the mood fits him. Isaac is very much in control of his emotions, rarely getting angry or bothered by most things which is only further fueled by the fact that he is generally aloof and detached. He has been accused as being "unsympathetic" and "uncaring" by others, but Isaac likes to think that it actually aids him in his work as he can allow logic and dedication lead him to the solution. This detached aspect has ruined whatever social skills Isaac once had. He is more socially awkward than most due to his blunt honesty and generally lack of concern of others. He never shies away from expressing himself. To had more fuel to the fire, Isaac generally looks down to people, believing everyone is foolish.

As if Isaac was not detestable enough already, Isaac has his fair share of bad habits. Isaac drinks habitually, forgetting what it means to be drunk or sober, living in a liminal state between the two. He will often mumble curses, chide others, and deflect blame, especially if his arrogance makes him me feel absolved rather than responsible. In order words, he occasional enjoys innocent chaos, permitting it can be controlled as well.

Despite all this, Isaac has a good heart. He is willing to help people and strives to do the right thing if only because it is his duty more often than not. He is slow to trust people, but can be a faithful friend if he can bear someone's presence long enough. Capable of social activity, Isaac enjoys intelligent conversation and giving advice, even though it is of pragmatic kind. And most importantly deep down, Isaac has not completely given up on his old aspirations, still hoping for a peaceful world free of strife…though it may be take him a 1000 years to realize that.

Weapon of choice: Isaac favors two particular weapons, despite his relative distaste of fighting: His competency in magic and his trusty mace.

Once a man of faith, Isaac continues his commitment and does not use a bladed weapon, using his old mace, inscribed with runes that allow the weapon to be enhanced by his light magic, as his primary tactic in close combat. He keeps the mace notched on his belt, within reach as to react as fast as needed in the heat of battle. Isaac's weapon skills are that of a veteran, favoring nimble, targeted and defensive strikes (further enhanced by a surge of magic), preferring to outmaneuver and outsmart an opponent, rather than use brute force.

His primary weapon, however, is Isaac's Light Magic. While not a wizard or dedicated spell caster, Isaac is rather talented in the magical arts, being able to use his magic in rather creative and intuitive ways. Many of his skills rely on trickery, using light magic to create distractions or illusions to coincide with his defensive approach to combat. However, Isaac does a small selection of offensive attacks, typically in that of focused blasts and surges of speed or power. These spells are more taxing, and Isaac tends to use them only when absolutely necessary.

Patron: Satris, Goddess of Life, Light and Healing.
Chosen Boon:
Self-Regeneration: With healing magic constantly flowing through his body, Isaac's body is constantly healing itself, making him capable of recovering from nearly every wound, disease and/or discomfort at an unnaturally fast pace. It has also tremendously slowed his aging, allowing him to look and feel still in his physical prime despite being over 200 years of age. It is important to note that Isaac still feels pain and his recovery speed is directly proportional to that of the wound. Small cuts and bruises heal nearly immediately, while a lost or broken limb will take moments or even hours.

Healing Transfer: With the healing magic flowing in his body, Isaac is capable of transferring the healing magic to that of an another, making him capable of healing others regardless of their wound. This comes at the cost that Isaac will take their pain, damages and discomforts and "process" it. In essence, Isaac is trading healing for pain. Isaac can heal nearly everything quickly, but can not bring back the dead. He tried. He failed.

Light Magic/Manipulation: Isaac's final known boon is manipulation light and light magic. Isaac's capabilities are that of a veteran and he is quite skilled despite not having incredible power in his skills. He does suspect that he could become quite a bit stronger in this ability but as yet to find the need to, given the threats he has fought and the other capabilities he has.

History:

Isaac was born and raised in the relatively small village of Edmos. Primarily a fishing, sailing and trading village, Isaac's family assumed something of a leadership role, as House Shearer was large and used their influence to help stimulate the village's economy. Edmos soon flourished under the Shearer's guidance and became a town, famous for its hospitality and solid goods. More and more ships sailed into the small docks and beaches of Edmos and prosperity soon reigned for the kindly community of fishermen, traders and innkeepers. Isaac's family became the closest thing to nobility for the populace, with the men of the house becoming more often mayors (starting with Isaac's grandfather) than laborers. As Isaac was raised, he became a part of the cycle of fishing, trading and learning, but as Edmos bloomed under his grandfather's govern-ship, more and more opportunities presented themselves.

While Isaac was relatively skilled as a fisherman and even a trader, his true calling was faith and philosophy, and when Isaac became of age, he formally joined the Church of Satris and dedicated his time to tending to the forgotten and needy in Edmos. Isaac's commitment was admirable and he was good at his work. His skill with herbs was notable. His dedication to learning unquestioned and many said that he was something of a beacon of light and hope to those less fortunate. To many, Isaac restored faith in House Shearer, as those that did not immediately benefit from their leadership critiqued them as "greedy" or "corrupt." But not Isaac. Never Isaac.

Isaac's continued work earned him a promotion in the Church and he was named the leading priest in Edmos. It did not change his commitment to his work, and his work found him tending to a woman named Mia, who was incredibly ill. Isaac tended to her daily, and as she recovered the two fell in love, and upon her return to good health, Isaac and her wed. Mia gave birth to twins about one year later and the quaint role as husband and father brought newfound purpose to monotony of Isaac's life. However, as soon as Isaac grew comfortable in his growing role, destiny returned to the young man. One morning, Isaac awoke to see a mark on his chest: that of a Sun. The Mark of Satris. Isaac heard of this only in legends. He was Chosen.

Isaac researched what this meant, but did not fully understand it. Confused, Isaac returned to his work of charity and assistance of the needy. It was then that Isaac believed he found his purpose. Tending to an elderly woman, Isaac found himself healing her upon a simple touch. Her injuries and disease were cured, almost in an instant. Isaac, gritting his teeth to hide the sudden pain, found himself suffering from her ailments. However, his discomfort was little more than fleeting, if painful, moment. Isaac found that he had a capacity to heal. Days later, when defending the town from a small bandit attack, he discovered that his weak capacity for magic was magnified several times over. He was indeed Chosen. And he was powerful. Unsure where to point this power, Isaac remained in Edmos and continued to defend and help the villagers.

About another year later, Isaac's wife and children became very ill. Isaac managed to stay healthy, assuming that his gifts as a Chosen protected him from the disease. He tried to heal them daily, but they never stayed healthy for more than a day or two. Isaac studied his abilities and their ailments and nothing came from it. After struggling for nearly a month, Isaac's children died. His wife about a week later with tears in her eyes. Isaac tried to bring each back with his healing magic. He failed. Despite his great powers, he could not reverse death. About one month later, the entire village including Isaac's parents and siblings suffered from the same plague. Edmos became little more than a memory.

Isaac hid in the Church of Satris waiting for a sign or some clue as to what swarmed Edmos. In time, he became clear that it was not a disease, but rather a curse from the "Chained One" undoubtedly aimed at him due to being a Chosen. Hunting down the accursed minions, Isaac burned with revenge and followed in their tracks, learning quickly that his need for food, water and sleep were practically non existent (though he loved naps and snacks). Isaac found the minions of "The Chained One" in an abandoned fort on the north end of the island, and in a beautiful mix of stealth and raw combat, Isaac destroyed the minions, suffering minor wounds that healed within hours of his slaughter of evil. With no clue of where "The Chained One" itself lurked, Isaac assumed that his awakening as a Chosen was to finish this work.

Therefore, Isaac wandered. And wandered. And wandered. He lost track of time. He lost track of his mission. He decided then that he would continue, hoping one day that purpose may find him. And that he may answer.

Sample: (See inspiration for character and scene (content warning: strong language and violence: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJWcR5icdkA)

The sun went down hours ago, but it was impossible to tell in the bustling tavern. Tucked away on a hill overlooking the road, the Lost Stone Inn would never be anyone's first choice to stay in a city or town. Yet it was the only choice for miles, and Isaac Shearer found himself hiding in the corner, sipping away on watered down ale, hoping to relearn what it meant to be drunk. Trying for years, the closest he got was a tingle in his left hand and that was after drinking a fine dwarven wine that supposedly was aged about two hundred years in the north. Or something like that. He forgot the story. It was a long time ago. Many things felt they took place long ago.

He had been sitting in the Lost Stone Inn for the better part of the evening, and heaved himself up to walk over to the bartender. "Another round, if you don't mind. I seem to be sobering up," Isaac requested, leaning on the bar as he fetched his coin purse from his belt. Without as much as a word, the bartender fetched the drink, placed it gingerly on the bar and took Isaac's coin. A silent transaction. Isaac liked that. "Oh, and do you have any rooms for the night? I hear the roads are dangerous at night around these parts," Isaac asked.

"A couple," the bartender replied, cleaning a glass.

"I'll take one," Isaac didn't bother asking for the price, dropping on the bar what was the standard rate in most nicer inns. Bartender didn't mind, and nodded, tossing Isaac the room key. Another silent transaction. Isaac liked this place. Isaac returned to his seat and sipped away at his drink. This mug was less watered down than the last but the effects were still nonexistent. It was shame really, since Isaac was genuinely seeking a desire to stick around for more than a night.

Then the door barged open. A burly man and what easily could have been ugly brothers or cousins flooded the bar. Most of the residents gasped and took on a hushed silence, aside from the trailing voice of confusion. "Don't mind us, as long as you cough up your coin and valuables, we will be on merry way. Wouldn't want to ruin your night, ain't that right boys?" The burly leader said with a chuckle. His bandit crew circulated through the room and many people parted with their few belongings in a solemn ritual. This culture seemed more than commonplace and Isaac sighed to himself as he saw it. The burly man approached Isaac personally: "You don't look familiar. Must be new here. Quite simple, friend. You give me gold. I go away. A nice simple...what's the word for it?"

"Transaction?" Isaac answered with a raised eyebrow.

"Aye, that's a good word for it," the burly man laughed again.

"Shame though. I seemed to have parted with all of my coin. Now if you'll excuse me," Isaac said as he lifted himself up. He stood almost the same height as the leader, though the leader had much more bulk than he. "I'm going to head over to my room. Have a...what was your word for it...merry day?" Isaac walked past the bandit leader, trying his best to walk through the man.

"Oh I don't think so," the burly man swung at Isaac with a right hook, but Isaac dodged it nimbly, quickly transitioning into a tying of his boot.

"I'm sorry, did you need something?" Isaac asked as he stood back up, adjusting his cloak in a smooth motion.

"You think you're pretty smart don't you? Playing me and my boys off like a bunch of court jesters? You know the last person to try that I carved into tiny pieces and feed to my dogs?" The burly bandit drew his longsword. It was bit rusty, but that sometimes made the cuts hurt more. "Let's make another example then. It's about time these people learned the nature of fear after all. Am I right, boys?"

"Shit..." Isaac muttered.

As far as the townspeople were concerned, the fight never happened. There was a big flash of light and by the time their eyes adjusted, the bandits were on the floor, squealing in pain with broken bones and battered bodies. Isaac stood up straight, cracking his neck and stretching out his limbs. Some blood made it onto his clothes, but he seemed comfortable enough.

"Another drink before bed, if you don't mind?" Isaac asked with a smile.

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