Ando Mogsbane

[alphaalpaca]

First Name: Ando

Last Name: Mogsbane



Appearance: Greying hair and a withered face despite having young eyes, suggest ageing beyond his years. He is garbed in a simple farmers tunic and somewhat worn and muddied dungarees. He is often found stooped, his body racked with a nasty sounding cough. As the story progresses he turns from this original figure into a more stereotypical powerful sorcerer.

Race: Human

Age: 23 years old

Height: 6ft although seems rather unimposing due to his stooped posture

Weight: 82.5kg

Eyes: Grey and pained

Hair: Tangled and unkempt, having greyed severely to the point where it’s original colour is no longer recognisable

Facial Hair Style: Although he likes to appear clean shaven, grey patches of stubble often gather showing a lack of proficiency with a blade



Personality Profile: An obvious illness racks through his body making every movement an effort. This has shortened his temper severely and he tends to pay little attention to others, when interaction is forced he treats others with disdain. Little regard for his own safety has resulted in him thriving in confrontational situations, often looking to test his power and surprise others who underestimate him.

General Health: Has a severe lung condition (a slow acting strain of featherlung) causing him to slowly weaken and he expects to die eventually die from the affliction. It results in frequent bouts of severe coughing, early ageing and a weakened frame.

Deity: None, although the amount of affection he shows towards Pogson verges on worship.

Initial Alignment: True neutral

Profession: Was originally a humble farmer until certain events took place (see background) and these forced him to become what he is now; a dispassionate practitioner of the arcane arts.

Base Class & Proposed Development: After recent life events (see background) the sorcerer’s magic coursing through his fragile veins was revealed. Due to his ever shortening life, blood magic seems an attractive route, for his worsening condition any sacrifice is worth the power it brings. As his power-hungriness is indulged it only enlarges, searching for other ways to maximize and harness his arcane ability (perhaps arcane scholar of Candlekeep and archmage).

Habits/Hobbies: Ando has limited time in his life left (or so he believes), so doesn't waste any time on things that aren't the accumulation of power. Furthering his sorcery has completely consumed him.

Languages: Common, later learnt elven once his adventuring began.

Weapon of Choice: As a frail being because of his condition he tends to avoid close quarter combat, afraid that it could end badly for him. He originally carries a pitchfork (spear) from his farm, and later a more stereotypical quarterstaff, partly to assist his walking.



Background:

From a young age Ando has lived the simple life, harvesting crops, breeding livestock, selling his produce at market and puffing the evenings away with a pipe full of high quality pipeweed. Everything was carried out with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. His primary goal in life was always to win prize pig at the harvest fair in his local village. For years he strove to obtain the title, spending more of his earnings on his animals than himself (with the exception perhaps of high quality pipeweed- his one luxury). However hard he tried he never managed to obtain the esteemed award, always falling short for one reason or other. Ando paid it no mind however and continued to go about his work happy, confident in the knowledge he would have his day!

However, the tale of Ando at this point takes a turn for the unsavory. Coughs began plaguing him despite his youth, and pains began shooting through his body. A visit to the local temple revealed the gravity of the situation, with a diagnosis of slow acting featherlung Ando’s condition would continue to decline until an inevitable early death. With a heavy heart Ando trudged home, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by a grimace of determination… Determination to finally win the prize he so yearned for.

For the next year as his hair turned grey, he slaved tirelessly to provide the faultless upbringing for his perfect piglet. His efforts proved fruitful and as he grew frail the pig grew healthy and strong, an impeccable specimen. Ando slept well despite his worsening condition confident that he would achieve what he had always wished for, and die a happy and fulfilled man.

Barely a week prior to the harvest fair, after a heavy day of working the farm, and trying to keep up with his now well-muscled pig on its daily walk, he slept heavily. However, a particularly brutal coughing session woke him at first light, as the fit spluttered out he rolled over to return to sleep. That was when he heard it, the unmistakable sound of a squealing hog. After stumbling cursing out of bed he hobbled to his door, just in time to see a group of dark skinned drow making off with his prized porcus. His mind clouded with an anger never felt before, he reached for a pitchfork and headed after them, stumbling over the uneven ground.

Ando soon lost the fleet of drow owed to his weakening bones and wheezing lungs. He resorted to following a trail of blood, which filled his heart with terror at the possibility of them mistreating his cherished pig. Did they not know that any slight injury could cause them to lose the prize at the village fair, even with his award winning entry?! After a day and a night of unsuccessfully trying to catch the pig pilferers, the trail ran dry and the feeling that he had lost them, and with it his deserved title began gnawing away at him. Eventually he came across a freshly abandoned camp, the remnants of a campfire still smoldering, and the leftovers of what looked like a hearty meal scattered on the ground. That was when he tasted it on the air, the unmistakable scent of burnt pork, he dropped to his knees, and tears welled in his eyes… He never even found out if they had won the harvest fair prize.

Knowing he was a beaten man, with a heavy heart, (and not to mention lungs) he slowly made his way home. However when he arrived home to lie down in his bed for what he hoped to be the last time, a devastating site met his eyes. The one place he had to call home was ablaze in flame. How could he have been so foolish, for in his haste he had neglected to put out the open fire in his room used at night to keep the chills away. His life in tatters, hopelessness and despair coursed through him. He had nothing left to live for, everything snatched from him at the whim of some subterranean bastards.

With his home destroyed Ando headed for the one place he could rest his head, the pig pen that he had spent so much of his earnings on. The gods had a cruel sense of humor. He unlocked the pen and crawled on hands and knees through the hay until he could no longer smell the burning of his house. He collapsed on his back, exhausted, a beaten man. For a few moments he lay there a single tear trickled from his sore eyes, hopelessness engulfing him. That was when he felt it; a wet snout pressing itself against his withered hand, accompanied by a soft snuffling sound and a faint oink. He reached round grasping the podgy belly with both hands and raised it so their eyes were level. Pogson he murmured, and their souls connected.

He stared deep into the small intelligent eyes, and they stared back as if looking into his very depths. In the piggy eyes he found himself. He felt energy surge through his veins and with it came a new-found power, his to command. In that instant he became whole. Energy burst forth from him destroying the surrounding pig pen and raising him to standing. The man who was defeated a mere moment ago was now filled with purpose to make the most of what remaining life he had. Never again would he be helpless to defend those he loved...

Goals:

Above all to gain power (any means necessary), to protect the one he loves-Pogson

To find the drow who originally caused his misfortune and collect the debts owed

To extend his life and slow his disease as to be around for the natural life of Pogson

Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:

The idea of earning, either through good means or bad, a way of extending his life beyond the constraints of his affliction.

He believes Pogson the pet pig (also his familiar) has recently begun talking to him (due to him going slightly crazy due to his disease) although he doesn't tend to think much of it and nobody else can hear it, perhaps he begins to talk to others with use of the tongues spell.

Generally just more to Pogson than meets the eye.

Is incredibly defensive over Pogson to the point of aggression if people come to close without permission.

He almost believes in the idea of not being powerless and sees weakness as an inherently bad trait to try and be avoided. Not inherently evil by any means, but given the opportunity more 'evil' decisions could be made in an attempt to gain power.

[DM Golem]

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