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Morris Cryptender

A curious young man with an interest in bugs.

0 · 235 views · located in Haydriarc territory

a character in “The Old Tower”, as played by Zalgo

Description

Name: Morris Cryptender

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Standing at a relatively short height of 5'3" feet tall and weighing only 108 pounds he is a rather skinny fellow. His hair is jet black, straight and is reaches roughly down to about the middle of his neck. Despite being naturally straight however his hair is usually somewhat messy and unkempt seeing as how he spends most of his time alone thus creating very little need for grooming. His eyes are a light chocolate brown color and he typically has dark rings under his eyes as a result of his staying up late into the night.

Clothing:

Nothing really exceptional. Just a plain dirt-stained off-white tunic and dirt brown pants. He's got a set of brown leather traveling boots to protect his feet.

Likes:

- Insects
- The Night
- Peace
- Quiet
- Tea
- Mild Foods

Dislikes:

- People hurting his bugs
- Bullies
- Excessive Heat
- Surprises
- Strong Flavors



Skills:

- Insect handling
- Medicine
- Herbology
- Reading and Writing
- Astronavigation
- Tracking
- Rudimentary Cooking

Future Magic Emphasis: Insect Manipulation and Blood Magic.

Channeling item: A rune painted glass jar full of his own blood.

Personality:

He's not normal. He was never normal. It's amazing an odd guy like him found himself amongst the chosen few sent to investigate the old tower to find the amulet of protection.

Whenever everyone would dislike something he'd be the first to try and play the devil's advocate. While the rest of his peers would cry "Who would ever want to like THAT?!" He would respond "Why shouldn't they?" This isn't to say he automatically likes what everyone dislikes but he lives by a certain sense of morality. Everything deserves a fair chance to be liked and appreciated no matter how strange and repulsive it may be. There are things he agrees aren't very good, such as hurting others and being mean but he makes it an effort to be understanding.


He enjoys helping out even though he's not exactly very skilled in much. He's slow to trust people, often shying away from others. His reasoning for this mannerism is valid as everyone he's known treats him badly despite his desire to be accepted. He's reclusive and yet he still dreams of making friends despite his fear of rejection and further emotional anguish.

More than his desire to kill the loneliness that has dug it's claws deep inside him is that he feels a sense of kinship with others who are similar to him. Others who are rejected for who they are, disliked for what they are and shunned because they are. Whenever people are disliked for unreasonable reasons he cannot help but want to extend his hand to them, to let them know that despite how cruel the whim of society can be they are not alone. He's always felt that way and he would not wish such cruelty as he has endured on anyone.


He especially feels bad for People who live in a violent world such as this that are too weak to protect themselves. Those who are rejected by society and devoid of it's safety, forced to defend themselves despite their lack of ability to do so while the people who are able to help them don't bother to lift a finger. He would stand for them. He would oppose the world that rejects them, stand against the society which burdens them and fight those who would prey on them. If he doesn't have to fight however he'd choose not to. He prefers not to be violent and his disdain for killing is high. Morris wouldn't even hurt a fly.

Background:

Poor, poor Morris. He was born a creep. A creep was all anyone ever saw him as, nothing more.

As a child he spent most of his time alone. His brothers, sisters and all the other children picked on him at every given opportunity. His unpopular opinions earned him the nickname "Creep". Because he was so poorly liked he spent most of his time in the woods. He learned to appreciate solitude as he was less bullied whenever he was alone. Still, solitude was a burden to carry and often he longed for friends.

As he watched insects milling about in their little world he pretended they were his friends. He gave them crumbs of food and watched as the various insects would eat their fill before the ants would carry their prize back to the queen. He learned a lot about insects by watching them. In addition he learned a great deal about the forest. What plants and mushrooms did what, how to follow animals without being seen and even how to find his way around using the geography and the stars.


His parents were the keepers of the local graveyard, hence the family name. He saw a number of dead bodies in his time as they were prepared for funerals and while they were being buried. Being around the dead never really bothered him much. What was real interesting were the insects which sought the corpse out for sustenance and a new home. He did enjoy the presence of his little friends ever so much. In his spare time he also perused the dusty old books kept at the local alchemist's shop, learning how to read from the kind old man who ran the shop.

As he grew up the bandit attacks had grown worse. As circumstances arose several young adults needed to be sent up to the old tower to find the fabled amulet of protection. He was in town to buy some food for his mother who had grown ill in recent times when the elders selecting those who would be sent up to retrieve the amulet chose him. He was quite surprised by this and perhaps a bit worried. He wanted to object to this decision of theirs but he couldn't find the voice to speak up over their talking simply due to how shy he was.

Quite the twist of fate it was as he found himself reluctantly trudging up a hill to go burgle some seemingly abandoned tower. Still, he couldn't help but hold some curiosity as to what lay within.

Apprentice or Master: Apprentice

So begins...

Morris Cryptender's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morris Cryptender Character Portrait: Erik Sontaur Character Portrait: Havel Seyl
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#, as written by Zalgo
Morris

He trudged up the hill side path, the old dilapidated trail somewhat soft beneath his heavy boots. Young morris hiked around the back of the chosen group that was sent to seek the amulet of protection which was rumored to be the salvation their village was so desperately in need of. He knew little of the item they sought nor of the tower they were to retrieve it from. If he were to speak aloud his honest opinion regarding their quest he'd say they were essentially being used as fodder with the faint hope that one of them would survive long enough to scrawl a warning for the others to come in his own blood on the wall.

But he didn't. He kept quiet and solemnly marched on. It only made sense to send the person nobody cared about on a mission of unforetold danger such as this. He was none too familiar with the others however. What motivated them to send these people along with? He thought as he looked across the backs of those ahead of him, ponderous queries remaining unspoken.


The thick fog hanging over the grassy hill during this hour of twilight didn't help either. He struggled to keep upon the footpath to the tower ahead. They had been walking a long while, long enough for him to wonder if they hadn't made a wrong turn somewhere. In the form of a looming shadow slowly revealing itself through the oppressive fog the tower came into view. The destination was in sight, signifying an end to this trek through the grassy moor beyond the village.

They approached the rather tall structure which stood impressively overhead. He was forced to crane his neck back in order to even see the top. An old door hanging upon rusty hinges barred their entry.

Morris looked to the others. He wasn't keen on taking the initiative so he waited to see if anyone else was going to act upon this first obstacle before them.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morris Cryptender Character Portrait: Erik Sontaur Character Portrait: Havel Seyl
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#, as written by Ulfunn
Havel

Walking silently with the other two young men he silently read them up seeing why they would even come on a mission such as this where the chance of death was high. He looked at the one who basically took the front of the group and guessed he was a farmer with visions of heroics or maybe of just battle. It was easy to see why this rather strong looking young man would come on a dangerous but possibly successful mission like this in order to fight back against the bandits. However the other one who followed the group from the back he looked as if he was one of the dead underfed and little sleep. If he would have guessed Havel would have said that this other young male was forcefully volunteered to go and really didn't want to go. Just by looking at the both of them he would have guessed that he was the oldest not that it even matters Havel didn't want to be any sort of leader he just want's to find this amulet and take care of the bandits so his village will continue in peace.

Before he knew it they came across the door the hinges look rusty and the door itself looked heavy. Too heavy to be pulled or pushed by any of them combined. Looking around Havel wondered how old the hinges were and started to inspect the hinges after scraping the hinges a little he found that the hinges were incredibly old and would be easy to break. Picking out a hammer and chisel from one of the bags he took with him for a "just in case of anything" he placed and smacked the chisel on the hinges in one or two solid smacks each hinged broke off after finishing Havel looked at the young man with the sword and bowed in the direction of the door and with a smile said "If you would do the honors."