Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: Burgundy
Skin Tone/Complexion:His father was Dāhomani, and his mother was Sivyne, giving him light mocha skin tone, while his complexion seems void of blemishes, and hard like smoothed stone.
Height: 6ā3
Weight: 189ā lbs
Physical Appearance: Daemon is a tone, well built man that at a glance is brimming with athletic ability. However, it would be a stretch to say that he takes care of himself in any capacity. He comes off for the most part as unkempt and shabby, with his scruffy, unmanaged facial hair, and his tattered apparel, one could easily make the assumption that he was poor wayward traveler that would probably hold them up for their wares without a second thought.
Some subtle notes about what Daemon wears when he conducts business, is that he values safety first. Itās hard to make a buck when there is a blade stuck in your belly after all. So to avoid this, he fashioned metal plates and inserted them into the upper chest portion of his hooded leather vest, with chain mail sewn to the fabric. This vest is typically worn over a common cotton shirt and pants, the only alterations that he goes out of his way to make are sewing leather patches onto the elbows and knees of his cloths. Both of his hands are also wrapped in gauze to hide hideous mana burnt flesh that reaches up to his forearms.
Combat Skills: He fights with technical brawling style of hand to hand. He prefers quicker kills with medium to long range archery, or poking something important with his dagger
Magic Mastery Level:
Daemon has access to an array of Chaotic and Necromantic abilities.
Daemon has access to an array of Chaotic and Necromantic abilities.
Magic Resistance Level: Primary
Flow Mastery Level:unpracticed in conventional uses of flow.
Weapons and Equipment: Bow,arrow, and a dagger.
Miscellaneous Items: He typically has a pack with various items like some food scraps, spices, small things for rituals, and a turtle named Maxwell might be in there.
Personality Description: Daemon, currently, could be described as a mythic, mysterious hobo that wouldnāt hesitate to sell the shoes off a dead man to make a quick buck. Shrewd and mysterious, Daemon prefers to keep his background in the arcane arts on the down-low, only telling trusted allies even fragments about his checkered past. Though hiding his chaotic nature can be a bit of a problem. While his access to his mana has been heavily limited, he still has other methods that can cause havoc for himself or anyone with him. What else are friends for, after all.
Religious Beliefs: āThere is Chaos in all thingsā. The only mantra that Daemon holds. He believes all gods to simply be an extension of chaos.
Education:Daemon is well read, and prefers texts with functional knowledge. Most of the texts he has handled come from the Archives of the cult he stayed with for several years, on top of reading Grimoire acquired in the time of his service.
History: Daemon Samil was born to to the lands of Dressor, living in an agricultural village that trades with some of the neighboring city states. Daemonās father, Sakarāabi, a strong Sivyne man was a commanding officer in the Dressor empire, but fell in love with a Dāhomani woman named Ymir, and after 25 years of service, resigned with honors to be with her and his new child. Daemonās life was fairly peaceful until one fateful day a man came to their home. The man was a highborn that wanted to discuss a private matter with his father. Daemon was not allowed to participate in the conversation, he was only six at the time, but whatever the subject was, it enraged his father to the point of commanding the man to leave town, and he did so, slithering away like a snake..
Things seemed to return to normal for a short time until news of an enemy force nearing the village was brought to them. Sakarāabi was suspicious of this so soon after his visitor. His senses told him that something was not right. So he had his wife take take Daemon away from the village, at least until the battalion had passed. However, the news that his mother received several days later only confirmed Sakarās suspicions. She overheard in the pub, how the battalion had wiped out the village in itās entirety, and murdered Sakar in the process. Heartbroken, Daemonās mother decided to move to her homeland, the continent of Syakh, so that she could raise what was left of her family in peace. However, even simple desires can be too much to ask it seemed. His mother caught wind that the battalion was still moving, lead by an entity known as āthe Paladinā. One who had a special association that was outside the normal rank and file of the empire. He only dealt with certain individuals that were seen as a threat, because of the magical abilities they possessed. She knew immediately that someone had accused her family of bearing dark magic that threatened Dressor, it was the only reason that The Paladin would still be pursuing her with such fervor. Being short on time and resources, Ymir couldnāt guarantee the safety of her son with her. So she sent the young boy onto Syakh without her, assuring him that she would come after him soon.
nine years passed
It had been nine long years since he made land on a coastal city of Syakh. Daemon, had become entwined in the underbelly of the city. He had no warm bed to home to speak of, just memories. Though he did have a source of monetary opportunity. There was a man in a hood that would pay kids like him to tell him what they saw, he went by Amon, and he was curious about the goings on of the cities from their perspective. One day Amon approached Daemon, and asked him if he was tired of this life. At this point, Dameon was getting a little bigger, he was 15 now, and he didnāt care much for the life of a citizen. To him, at this time, it seemed like all adults wanted to do was control everyone and everything around them. He told Amon this, he told him he was tired of it, that he didnāt want to be used and thrown away. He wanted to watch what they built crumble and fall. Amon seemed pleased by this, and lead Daemon inland, across the harsh dessert to a place visited by few. It was another city, but it was broken, and not regulated by any unified force of any kind. Amon told Daemon that this was a place where one could loosen the shackles of law, and live how they wanted. The city was plagued with poverty and crime, and the weather there was always either excessively hot, or freezing temperatures. Amon became a bit of a mentor for Daemon, teaching him how to fight, how to thrive in the environment of the city. For five years he had to fight, and steal to live in the chaos around them.
One day Amon told Daemon that he wanted to show him something. He brought him to a mausoleum that was on the outskirts of town. It was run down and was hardly holding together, no one ever thought too much of it. Amon started to mutter in an unfamiliar language, and reached down to grab a hatch that, for some reason, Daemon never noticed was there before. After opening the door to the underground pass, he led Daemon deep underground, through a series of passages, until they reached a massive cavern that held a Temple. Amon lead Daemon inside, and introduced him to the founders of the city above.They explained that the city was seeded with chaotic magic that infected its citizens and made its residence unpredictable, and made an organized culture impossible. Only those who were able to adapt would survive up there, and only those that showed exceptional talent, were invited to join them, and learn how to break the shackles of the conventional world.
Daemon accepted the offer, and began his new path. The founders of the city were a group of sorcerers that called themselves āAriesā, and they were discretely paid to destabilize areas of the world, and they were paid well for it. Amon began to develop Daemonās abilities as a sorcerer. He absorbed the knowledge in the Aries Library Tomes, and spent 6 years spreading havoc with Aries. Daemon had become an ambitious, and fearsome mage. However, one day, for seemingly no reason, Daemon turned coat, and launched an assault against the group, killing off a third of his peers, and eliminating a large portion of the new recruits. Their library was burned to cinders, and the only book that he could not burn, he stole, and hid. Then he left without saying a word.
The remnants of Aries wonāt rest now, until his head adorns the corridors of their inner sanctum. So he wanders, hunted, and alone, as an outcast of the world. Nothing in mind for his life right now except money and some good drink.