Alistair is a 27 year old Highlander. In this relatively short life, it is worth noting that nothing much of importance or great tragedy has happened. He was born in a no-name hovel owned by his small family. His father, who was a amateur artisan who made regular trips to the Duchy of Ruska, would routinely bring things back that interested him. He brought back many things which Alistair would simply stare and gawk at for hours. Alistair at an early age, took an interest in magic, specifically Artificery. When he grew old enough to become independent, he set out to find someone who could teach him in this art.
Years of wandering have produced nothing. Maybe it was his abrasive personality, or strange, morbid sense of humor, but he could find no one. This has greatly frustrated him over time, and he has grown quite jaded, further souring his mood to people in general. Until he finds someone who can teach him magic - he would really like Artificery, but at this point, he would accept any kind of magic - this attitude and bleak outlook will likely continue.
Character Name: Alistair
Character Race: Highlander
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 27
Physical Description: He is pale, with brown hair and beard. Green eyes, with an unassuming brown coat, dull grey pants, black, worn shoes, and a golden belt buckle.
Roleplay Scenario: The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
((How does your character respond? Please ensure your response is at least six sentences long, and uses at least two actions.))
Example: (delete this when you add your own)
"Oh, I just, uh…" The traveler stutters, tensing up. They eye the crone, then back outside the shack. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation, until…
Screenshot of Skin:
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