Age: 31 years of age
Gender: Male
Nationality: Born in England, he was quickly moved off to Turkey where he spent the majority of his life. He was returning to the European area in order to find out who is biological parents were.
Personality: Antisocial and xenophobic, he is hardly a conversationalist; nowhere near the kind, village fellow he once was. When he does speak though, his words and phrases are often spread apart, and come together in rather cryptic manners. Whenever he feels agitated and pushed into a corner, he may lash out violently, usually with the pickaxe.
How much humanity do you have left in there? : Very little humanity left. He is on the verge of losing all hope, for he has yet to come close to having his plans come to fruition.
Attire/Equipment: Gas mask (breathing tube attached to a gas tank hooked to his back), belt of tools, a pickaxe, a mining helmet with a headlamp on the front, and a worn out, dusty and dirty jumpsuit. For some reason, he has grown attached to these things, and will refuse to part with them for any reason.
What has the curse given you, or worse, taken away?: The curse had taken his personality, and with it, most of his sense of identity. He is no longer the warm, open, honest fellow he was. In essence, the curse has made him into something empty, hopeless, and alone; a husk. It has changed his voice into a gritty mockery of his once smooth tone. An upside, however, is that he has surprisingly large reserves of endurance and strength.
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