Appearance:
He looks very pale and skinny. Not very strong, but quite lean. He doesn’t look particulairly healthy, though you wouldn’t really label him “unhealthy” either. Race: Human Age: Unknown. Looks to be mid twenties Height 1.80m (6”0-ish?) Weight: 57kg ( 125 lbs ) Eyes: Light grey Hair: Near black Facial Hair Style:None Has grown a beard over time.
Personality Profile:
He is quiet, and doesn’t show much emotion or opinion, unless specifically asked to. He seems pretty eager to avoid confrontation. General Health: Not really healthy, but not unhealthy either. Deity: Gives lip service to Oghma, Mystra and Deneir Initial Alignment: Neutral Profession: Wizard, Scholar Habits/Hobbies: Learning more about magic, gaining knowledge Languages: Common, Arcane, Draconic, Elven, Goblin, Orc Weapon of Choice: Spells
Background:
Rarely would Memmon speak of his past, though he often tells he lost much of his memories of the time anyway. When asked about his past, he would very rarely explain how he became a wizard. If he would talk about it however, he would begin the tale at how he came to Candlekeep, and eventually left again.
It is the first entry in his written journal as well. He writes in a chaotic, scribbly letter, resulting in a messy whole when read.
A man sits on a bench in the East Gate district of Baldur's gate. He wears plain clothing and could easily be mistaken for a farmer, were it not for the dark gray cloak he wears. He's holding a leather bound journal, and is writing it at that very moment.
He writes in small but neat letters. The book lies open on his lap, and anyone passing by would be able to read it without too much effort. Should one take the effort to read it, they would read the following...
(( Feel free to PM me your IC actions of reading it, if you so please. ))
The same man sits on a corner of the Palace District, observing, and every once in a while writing his journal.
His gaze follows the nobles that walk around the district, the odd beggar coming from the Docks district, or the even odder adventurer. His gaze follows anyone that has the look of a wizard about him longer, yet he just stays as he is, observing, writing ...
Again, anyone who manages to get close enough, would easily be able to read the writings of his journal. Those who do would sometimes be ignored, or sometimes be stared at, longer than is comfortable.
"And...what do you think of the Gods, then?" Caed says abruptly over the shoulder of Memmon, a man that Caed has not seen for some time...but does know from a few excursions with the Windspells.
It would seem that Caed's recent time back in Baldur's Gate—and particularly in the Palace District—has led to a fate bringing him over the shoulder of Memmon...who appears to be lost in his notebook writings....
"Tis some times that Men are but pawns to the Gods, knowingly and unknowingly...and perhaps that is Man's greatest folly...to think they stand of their own conscious, and act freely in World they know so little about!"
Caed's wisdom, or at least attempt at it, appears in great form here...but goes no further.
"Where have you been, Memmon...besides with your writings?" Caed speaks, as he takes a longer look at the rest of the writing that is visible on this page.
"If the written word is your...to understand it truly better, then perhaps you can begin with interpreting the few texts and tomes that the Windspells have acquired, of late. We may have lost possession of some other...artifacts...but in knowledge, we still may gain greater footing...."
Caed takes out two tomes, old and weathered, but sturdy. In bright and clear writing, on the covers, are the titles: The Great Black, and The Five Secrets of Polvich. It is clear that Caed is looking to Memmon—a sometimes companion to the Windspells—to place his questing desires to a present challenge.
Steve wrote:"And...what do you think of the Gods, then?" Caed says abruptly over the shoulder of Memmon, a man that Caed has not seen for some time...but does know from a few excursions with the Windspells.
It would seem that Caed's recent time back in Baldur's Gate—and particularly in the Palace District—has led to a fate bringing him over the shoulder of Memmon...who appears to be lost in his notebook writings....
"Tis some times that Men are but pawns to the Gods, knowingly and unknowingly...and perhaps that is Man's greatest folly...to think they stand of their own conscious, and act freely in World they know so little about!"
Caed's wisdom, or at least attempt at it, appears in great form here...but goes no further.
Memmon would look up from his journal, remaining silent for a while before answering Caed's question. When he does start speaking, he speaks with little enthousiasm.
"I wouldn't know, for I'm not a devout man. You might be right, but if that is the case, then I hope that the Gods who's plan I'm part of, are appreciative of my efforts in unearthing knowledge, and that I may once serve Their plans with the knowledge I've gained.
And should you be wrong ... ? Then I hope I can serve my own goals, for my calling to knowledge will not change, whether or not a God is involved."
He would pause for a moment, afore letting Caed speak once more.
Steve wrote:"Where have you been, Memmon...besides with your writings?" Caed speaks, as he takes a longer look at the rest of the writing that is visible on this page.
"If the written word is your...to understand it truly better, then perhaps you can begin with interpreting the few texts and tomes that the Windspells have acquired, of late. We may have lost possession of some other...artifacts...but in knowledge, we still may gain greater footing...."
Caed takes out two tomes, old and weathered, but sturdy. In bright and clear writing, on the covers, are the titles: The Great Black, and The Five Secrets of Polvich. It is clear that Caed is looking to Memmon—a sometimes companion to the Windspells—to place his questing desires to a present challenge.
He would wait for Caed to continue talking, after his question concerning Memmon's whereabouts. Only after his final request, does Memmon take effort to respond.
He scratches his chin in thought at the request, while looking at the books, afore finally responding:
"Yes ... that might interest me. Can I hold possession of the books, as to study them further? For study rarely concludes in mere minutes. So I fear I'd need more time with the books than the time granted in the middle of these streets."
He would look at Caed expectantly, awaiting his response. A glimmer of enthusiasm can be seen in his otherwise rather stoic expression.
Donny wrote:He scratches his chin in thought at the request, while looking at the books, afore finally responding:[/color]
"Yes ... that might interest me. Can I hold possession of the books, as to study them further? For study rarely concludes in mere minutes. So I fear I'd need more time with the books than the time granted in the middle of these streets."
He would look at Caed expectantly, awaiting his response. A glimmer of enthusiasm can be seen in his otherwise rather stoic expression.
"Perhaps, Memmon...I can offer you a decent meal and drink, at the Blade & Stars, such that you may settle in upon your study. It has been told to me that such books are desired to be possessed by...*and here, Caed lowers his voice to almost a whisper*...assassins...."
Caed then returns his voice to normal. "It would disturb me for Time unknown, to let you alone with any such...well, best that I keep guard on all things."
Taking the tomes and placing them back in a satchel, Caed swings it over his shoulder in obvious preparation to make a move. He gives Memmon a lingering look.
"Understandable. Perhaps it then is better if you stay in the vicinity while I commence my studies. If these books, and the holders of them, are indeed targeted by assassins, then it might be better not to risk it."
He gestures Caed to lead on, and follows him straight after.
Sitting on a bench in the docks district, the man, having grown a beard over time, seems to be doing little more than observing. Still with a notebook on his lap, and still sporadically writing.
He seems slightly less out of place between the people around him. His motions less stiff than before, less shifty and apparently more at ease with people around him.
His book reads the following, should one come close enough to read (and be able to decipher his bad writing):
The last week or so, the man seems to have abandoned his favorite spot in the docks, most of the time, only returning there once in a while, when his travels take him there, or when he's a day off from his new occupation.
On the odd day he still sits on the bench in the docks however, he can still be seen, notebook on his lap, and new entries penned. He'd still take little effort to hide his writing (though his handwriting is perhaps obfuscation enough).
The man is rarely seen on his regular spot lately. On the rare occasion someone does find him there, his journal, always open on his lap and occasionally being filled in further, clearly explains why he hasn't been around.
