Windsor Dais, from The Multiverse, a roleplay on RPG

General Appearance: Windsor has slightly pale skin, he isn’t deathly pale or anything, but still pale. Around his thin form he wears a white tunic that extends to about six inches above his feet on the legs, on the arms about three inches past his shoulder. Under this he wears a black long sleeve shirt and full-length black pants. He wears light brown sandals on his feet. His tunic is belted with a pure black belt with which he stores his dagger. He has two pockets in his tunic that blend in with the rest of the fabric so well they are nearly impossible to see unless you know what you are looking for. These are located at the front of the tunic on either side.

Eyes: A creamy white color, with pure black pupils

Hair: Pure white. His hair is very messy and covers his forehead, ears, and parts of his eyes. At the longest is the back, which is about one inch below his ears; it slowly shortens as it approaches his ears, though still being about one centimeter below at the ears themselves.

Personality

He doesn’t know how to act around people, having spent most of his life living on the streets alone. He is very cautious and doesn’t trust people easily; this is a result of his rough life. He would avoid conflict if at all possible, but if something does come to a fight he will still try to get out of it, he hates violence. If he is forced into completing a fight he will not kill. At least not under normal circumstances, but of course, what would normal circumstances be considered for a fight? I mean to say, he would not kill in just a regular fight. But if someone killed someone he loved, he would do all in his power to destroy them. Other circumstances in which he would kill are obvious, judging by the first I gave.

Equipment

Dagger: He carries a dagger with a blade about one foot in length. The hilt is pure black, except for thin lines of white that run horizontally through it up to the crosspiece. The crosspiece extends about one inch in either direction, matching the two sharp sides of the blade. The blade is a silver color that is almost white. It is about one inch at the longest, thinning as it grows away from the hilt, finally thinning into a point. In case I didn’t make this clear enough, it is double-edged, with a point that can be used to stab. He carries it by sticking it point down in his belt.

Magic: Because he is a Wind Elemental he has several wind based attacks. They are listed below. Will be marked with a star (*) at first use and two (**) when he knows what they are and can use them consciously. (Excluding Winds of Destruction).

*Winds of Destruction: A giant wave of wind that will immediately kill the average person or a weak warrior. He has to be angered extremely to activate this ability, he doesn’t use it consciously, it must be awakened by anger. He rarely gets angry, so the use of this is rare. (First used in bio, he doesn’t know what it is though).

Wind Blade: Gathers energy around whatever weapon he happens to be holding, increasing the power of the blade. It can also be used to throw off decently powerful gusts of wind from the blade of his weapon. Again, dependent on the size of the blade.

Jet-stream: Shoots small, concentrated bursts of wind at the target. Extremely painful, but does very little damage.

Current Control/Flying: Windsor takes advantage of his small body and uses his magic to control the air currents around him to allow him to fly. This requires immense concentration, he usually won’t use this except as a last resort.

Wind Wall: Used to create an invisible wall of wind. If someone runs into this it will either throw them back or up, depending on the direction of the air current. Can also be created in a horizontal direction for Windsor to propel himself in a certain direction without having to fly. Both of these could possibly be seen if they picked up things on the ground, such as dirt or leaves.

Note: his wind powers are not limited to those above; Windsor can experiment with his wind-controlling powers, giving him an almost endless array of attacks. The ones above are just ones that he tends to use the most often. Also, each attack will drain a small amount of Windsors strength; if he uses magic excessively, he will possibly collapse with exhaustion.

History

His parents, who he never knew were a ½ Wind Elemental (father) and a human (mother). His father’s father was a pure Wind Elemental who was known for being rather mischievous. He fell in love with a human after he had heard his future fiancee’s singing with the birds; it was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. He married her, convincing her that he was an albino. His son, Windsor’s father, was born looking almost completely human, except his hair turned from brown to white once he reached the age twenty-three. Both of Windsor’s parents died before he knew them. His mother died giving birth to him, his father died of grief soon afterwards.

He was put into an orphanage until he turned nine, which was when he ran away from the rather unpleasant place. An account of this follows.

“Nine o’ clock! Lights out!” yelled the caretaker in his rough voice, turning the lights out as he left the room; the room was filled with eleven crudely made bunk beds, all of them crammed into the small room. In each bed sat a boy, in the ninth bed from the right lay Windsor Dais, a white haired boy whom everyone was afraid of, only because of his white hair and eyes.

“Yeah right,” whispered Windsor, feeling under his pillow for the small bag of possessions he was planning to take with him. You see, Windsor had grown tired of the poor meals and rough caretakers at the orphanage; he wanted to leave this place and explore the world, find people that wouldn’t shun him just because he looked a little different from everyone else, and that was exactly what he planned to do tonight.

Once he was sure everyone was asleep, Windsor got up and checked his small bag to make sure he had everything. A bit of food, a fossil of a claw, the strange golden charm that he had been wearing when he first was taken to the orphanage, and a kitchen knife that he thought he might be able to use as a weapon, at least until he found something real.

“That’s everything,” the white haired boy said quietly. He tied a string around the top of the bag, walked to the window, opened it, and looked back one final time into the orphanage where he had lived for as long as he could remember.

Windsor ran from the orphanage, not that he needed to, they never bothered to put any effort to look for him. He lived in a small village scrounging for food and barely scraping life from his existence until he was twelve when he got in some trouble with the local authority for trying to steal some meat from a stall in the street. From here he moved on to another village, some distance away, and continued living on the streets. That is, until the village he was at that time was residing in was attacked by an Empire ruled by a king known as King Magnax III. This happened two years later, when he was 14. An account of this event follows.

“Run! We’re being attacked! Run!” screamed a woman running past Windsor, who was digging in someone’s garbage, hoping to find something to eat.

What? Attacked? Who would want to attack a poor village like this? wondered Windsor, pulling himself out of the trash can. He heard the unmistakable sound of horses’ hooves coming closer. No one in this village has a horse… What that woman said must be true! I’ve got to get out of here! The white-haired boy grabbed his small bag that he had kept since he left the orphanage, which had just the knife and the charm with his name on it now.

Windsor ran through the streets, away from the clatter of the horses’ hooves behind him. Yet, the sound became louder, and louder still; they were gaining on him! Windsor would never get away, he would be killed!

“Halt!” shouted one of the soldiers chasing Windsor, but the white-haired boy kept running. An arrow flew past him; it was so close that he could feel the wind coming off of it. “Halt, in the name of the Great King Magnax!” shouted the soldier again. “If you don’t stop we will be forced to kill you!”

Windsor stopped and slowly turned around to face the soldiers. The lead soldier, his black shield bearing the symbol of King Magnax, a blood-red scorpion, dismounted his horse and, drawing his sword, slowly walked up to Windsor.

“So, why were you running kid?” he asked Windsor. “Got something to hide maybe, what’s in that there sack? Drop it now.” Windsor dropped the sack. “A kitchen knife! Gonna kill all us with this here knife, boy?” he started to laugh, the other soldiers, still on their horses, joined him. “And wha’s this? A little gold charm, with some writing on it. Windsor, eh? That be your name, boy?” Windsor nodded. “Well, you can keep that knife, we’ve got no use for it, but I’ll be taking this here charm. Maybe it can be melted down into somethin’ useful.”

The soldier dropped the knife at Windsors feet, turned and began to walk off. “No.” said Windsor quietly.

“Wha’s that boy?” the soldier turned, looking at Windsor.

“I said no,” the white-haired boy replied, louder this time. That charm was the only thing he had of his parents, he wasn’t going to let it go that easy.

“What, you gonna take it from me?” the other soldiers began to laugh.

“No, you’re going to give it to me, now,” Windsor was getting angry, an awesome rage was building up inside him.”

“Oh is that right? Well then, I don’t think I will, you’ll have to take it from me, boy.” The soldiers’ laughing grew louder.

Rage was building up inside Windsor, a mad, terrible rage that he had never felt before. He had the desire to kill, it scared him, but it also made him feel powerful. He didn’t know it, but it was his Wind Elemental side coming out in him.

“Give it to me, NOW!” As he screamed this at the soldiers there was a huge blast of wind, the white-haired boy heard several screams of pain, then all was silent. Windsor passed out.

A while later, Windsor wasn’t sure how long, he woke up. The terrible rage was gone, as were the soldiers. All that remained were a few scraps of black armor and bloody cloth laying upon the ground. No, that wasn’t all, there was a small bag a few feet in front of Windsor. He walked up to it slowly, he picked it up, opened it, and found what was inside.

It was his charm, the one with his name on it. The white-haired boy put this in his pocket. There was another item in the sack, a dagger, yet this wasn’t like any other dagger. It was pale and shined slightly silver. The crosspiece was pure black, except for thin lines of white running through it. It had to have been made by the elves.

Windsor looked at the destruction in front of him. Did I do that? he thought. But how? He was scared, someone would surely find out that it had been him, and they would come looking for him. He had to get out of here!

Windsor stuck the dagger through his belt, point down, and walked off, wondering what was to happen now.