Age: 23
Seal: Lightning
Number of Released Seals: 0
Location of Seals: The topmost lays upon the centre of his collarbone, the bottom most lays just above his navel.
Appearance/Body type: A painfully thin man, with little more than tight and hardened muscle and no fat on him whatsoever. His skin clings tight to his bones giving in horrible skeletal like form. Too often he catches sight of his own reflection and fear that he is already looking at a dreaded Deadman. The dirt on his face and the sunken, world weary eyes doing little to dissuade his fears.
Short background: A man cannot decide the nature of their birth, nor who their parentage is. Albeelis couldn't have chosen to be born a bastard even if he was aware of such a choice to make. From birth he was an outcast, the ill product of his fathers desire to have another woman. His life was the punishment of a lustful father, a punishment he was eager to pass on to anyone at the first chance he could get.
And so the newborn child was given to an orphanage as soon as he was able, the mother didn't complain. She was already rotting in a shallow grave, his father was not as kind as to allow the girl who brought him an unwanted bastard to go around telling everyone. And so the young child was named Albeelis by the men and women who ran the orphanage, and when he grew old enough to walk and hold a brush he was put to work. When it became apparent that small hands make for light fingers he was put onto the streets to bring in a profit from whatever he could swipe from the people of the city.
When the young child was inevitably caught, the orphanage didn't do anything to protect him. They were an upstanding pillar of the community after all, they couldn't have their shady dealings being so obviously known to the people they were swindling. So the young boy was thrown onto the streets and earned the nickname 'gevell', an old word meaning 'sneak'. The boy decided to spite the mocking tones of those who still had roofs over their heads and food in their bellies by taking it as his last name.
So it was that Albeelis Gevell spent many of the next years on the streets, begging and stealing what little he could to survive. He learned to weasel his way out of most attempts to have his throat slit for a handful of coppers, or else learned to use the secret passages through cities and towns. Sewers were ever the beggars friend, they kept them dry from the winter rains or hid them away when angry guards caught them swipe a loaf of bread. And when the dead rose up and marched in force they provided a way for a young beggar to slip away from the carnage. The people were going north, the Deadmen were in the south. He knew where he wanted to be.