"Plue brings all the girls to the yard!"
Name: Hershell Stemlocke
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Color/Location of Stamp: Forest green; Bottom of his left foot.
Personality: Hershell can come off as impersonal, even as far as looking like a dick. āHershā is a pretty sour guy and a slight pessimist, looking at any tedious jobs or menial labour as a total pain. He also likes to sleep as much as he can and when it comes to work and will only do jobs that give him enough cashflow for the essentials (Food, water, a moderately nice roof over his head). Hershell specializes in support-type of magic, not liking to fight enemies head on. Hersh also sees relationships with people as a luxury, not a necessity. He gets along with people well enough, provided theyāre low maintenance, but donāt expect him to help you move anytime soon. Hershell is a firm believer that there is nothing wrong with doing things slow and easy, and he believes thatāll never change, even for a second.
Stats:
Strength: 2
Defence: 4
Agility/Acrobatics: 2
Magic: 4
Magic: Gaseous magic; Able to control various magical vapours and gases that give several different effects.
Signature Abilities:
- Vigorous Steam: Temporarily boost the attack and speed of team mates who inhale the steam.
- Drowsy Mist: Creates a thick cover of mist, instilling a dizzying, almost intoxicating effect on all that inhale it.
- Undercover Fog: Covers the field in a thick fog, allowing Hershell to move around stealthily. Cannot be seen through without special eyewear or enchantment of some sort.
Equipment: Carries a pack which holds a pillow and blanket. Carries enchanted goggles to allow him to see through his conjured fog and an enchanted bandanna he will sometimes cover his mouth with to prevent him from feeling the effects of his Drowsy Fog.
History: Hershell was born into an honest, hardworking family. His father and mother were novice mages, both proficient at basic fire magic. The two used this magic to work in their glasswork shop, helping them to create the finest items for all of the townās glass-based needs. When little Hershell came along, the two were thrilled to have an heir to their glass empire. No doubt heād be an excellent fire mage, too! Hershellās parents started teaching him how to create fire at a very young age, but all Herhsell could ever muster up was mere smoke. The couple merely assumed that this was due to Hershellās young age, and heād eventually grow out of it.
He did not.
As the years went by, Hershell could make many types of gases, like steam and fog, and he even discovered that some had very unique abilities to them. Still, no fire. That wasnāt the only problem that the parents saw in their son. He had no work ethic. In school heād get straight Cās, just passing his tests. In sports, he could handle himself well enough, but he never really stood out. Even in glassworking, his work would always come out.....okay. Fine enough, but not anywhere near as amazing as the quality glass the shop was known for. And while it bothered his parents, Hershell didnāt seem to mind being sub-par.
At the age of 13, Mr. and Mrs. Stemlocke began to worry about their son. Then, like an answer to all their prayers, Nevark showed up. It was a routine enough visit, his grandson had accidentally shot another hole through the guildās windows with his practise guns, and Nevark had come to the shop when he noticed little Hershell in the back, creating little animals out of smoke. Seeing potential in the boy, Nevark talked things over with the Stemlockes. Nevark would take Hershell under his wing into his guild, promising to whip him into shape and make him one hell of a go-getter. He was so sure he could do it, he vowed he wouldnāt let Hershell leave the guild until he did! Hershellās parents were ecstatic. What luck, to have the guild leader Nevark Grappleor take their son and turn him into an aspiring young man! Why, surely heād be a hardworking adult within the year!
He did not.
Now 19, Hershell is even worse off than before. Nevarkās constant belittling of him and rigorous training has left him hating all forms of labour. But, despite the guild master, Hershell had grown accustomed to this place he now called home. The work was good and the people were good company. He liked it here at Golden Leo; Which is good, because heāll be here until the day he dies.
Fun Facts:
- Hershellās own personal theme song is āBaka Survivorā by the Ulfuls. Heās an idiot that gets by in life.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crhG6cuNeAQ&feature=related- While he can easily stand any smoke he creates, Hershell feels sick when he inhales cigar/cigarette smoke.
- Hershellās goggles were made from the first glass he ever made.
Roleplay Sample:
It was late in the evening, and the entire forest was pitch black, so dark you couldnāt even see your own hands in front of your face. That is, all of the forest but one mansion situated dead in the middle of the thick trees. Unlike its surroundings, the house was brimming with illuminating light, and audible music and chatter could be heard coming from within. Inside the house a party took place, filled with lords and ladies from all over Ebel. The host smiled happily, watching his happy guests spending their night ballroom dancing and discussing their latest business affairs. The party was going swimmingly.
*THWUMP*
The doors swung open, bringing the party to a complete halt. Everyone turned their heads in complete shock to see there, standing in the doorway, huffing and puffing, some sort of mudman. The whole room was frozen with terror as it started to shuffle towards the host, still heaving away. After what seemed like an eternity, the beast was no more than a foot away from the lord of the mansion. It extended its arm and started to grasp at the air in front of it, a look of hate shown in the eyes, which could barely be seen through the mud. The lord gulped, closing his eyes as he feared the mudman would surely pull out his heart. He could feel the hand pressing on his chest, and then.......nothing? The lord opened one eye, then both in shock, as he saw the mudman pulling money out of the wallet he took from his chest, and began counting.
ā80, 90, 100......plus bonus.ā The mudman muttered angrily as he took the money before folding the wallet and stuffing it back in the lordās pocket, dirtying his attire. The mudman wiped his face to reveal a human underneath all the gunk. The lord immediately recognized him as the mage he hired for security.
āListen, chump,ā The mage began to huff as he walked towards the door, dragging mud across the ballroom, āI did your job. I expect an excellent review. Oh, and by the way, donāt classify exterminating goddamn 5 foot tall swamp rats as āpest controlā in the job description, itās misleading. Later!ā
*THWUMP*
And as quickly as the mudman had arrived, he left, off to take a well deserved nap on the train ride home.