Sal Mander

[Sal Mander]

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Sal Mander

 

Information

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• Race: Human
• Gender: Male
• Height: 6'4
• Weight: 198 lbs
• Age: 28
• Birthday: 1st Day of Winter, 484
• Birthplace: Lhavit
• Location: Lhavit

• Job Title: Investigator
• Employer: The Cosmos Center
• Duties: The Cosmos Center is the central hub of information for the city of Lhavit, providing help and services to newcomers and existing citizens alike. In order to have the most up to date facts, Cosmos Center Investigators are charged with keeping abreast of current happenings and affairs within the city.

 

Appearance

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Sal walks the streets of Lhavit armed with either the warmest of smiles or an unnerving glare depending on his chosen mood for the day, though the latter is merely a symptom of concentration rather than a conscious effort to send children screaming. He carries himself with confidence and purpose, not in a cocksure way resembling a strutting peacock demonstrating its wares, but just enough to occasionally entice others to step aside first on narrow pathways. Old ladies tend not to budge however.

He is exactly six foot and four inches tall but secretly scared of heights, while sporting short black hair that threatens to curl if left to grow long. He does not allow that to happen. His hazel eyes are like chameleons in that they change their hue during the course of the day. Opting for a less fanciful gray during the mornings, come evening it is hard to say if they are green, blue or both.

Physically speaking Sal appears in a fairly healthy state. All that walking about does much to burn fat, while his diet is decent enough not to add too much fat to begin with. While keeping clear of becoming a gluttonous pig, he does have a sweet tooth for chocolate and the myriad edible vessels it is served on, (bananas, cookies, biscuits and so forth). He lacks any defining marks or blemishes, save for a single tattoo on the back of his right hand, (details later). He is also absent of any scars and injuries, due to always having his head in a book as a child as opposed to hanging out of trees.
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Concept

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Quietly confident of his intellect while realistic of his limitations, Sal bears the favorable traits of being determined and willing to learn, assets to anyone in the learned city of Lhavit. However, often times he strives too hard for perfection, growing frustrated when things do not go according to plan.

Among friends he is considered to be frustratingly stubborn, unreservedly loyal, and deviously funny, though such traits can and have manifested themselves into alternate renditions on occasion. His stubbornness and loyalty make it hard for him to drop grudges against those who have wronged him or his friends, while his deviousness is sometimes misinterpreted by others as meanness.

Morally, Sal has a generally positive outlook on the rights and wrongs of the world, but by no means is he completely innocent when it comes to misbehaving. Willing to bend the rules to get things done, he prefers to regard them as guidelines rather than stringent commandments, so long as in doing so is for the greater good rather than personal gain.

For the most part, Sal considers himself a decent fellow with good intentions, valuing family and friendship and finding joy in both his work and his city of residence. However, he carries within him a dark streak not often seen, but there all the same. Manifesting itself as a fiery temper, this darkness has led Sal on occasion to lose sight of reason and sense, acting uncharacteristically and giving in to an almost uncontrollable rage. It is a side of him he strives to keep concealed.
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History

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Before

Unexciting, uneventful and certainly not unforgettable, Sal's childhood in Lhavit was the stuff left out of stories and tales otherwise designed to excite and entertain. Nonetheless, plain as his upbringing may have been, it did shape the man he would become. Loving and loyal parents presented Sal with a solid foundation, unwavering in their caring and support for the family as a whole. But just as the family drew it's strength as a collective, so too did it find color and character in the individuality of its members.

Sal was fortunate to have well to do parents who had made a decent life for themselves in Lhavit. Juggling the pursuit of knowledge with the everyday requirements of city life, they raised their three boys with the enthusiasm and determination that their wide eyes would never cease to seek wonders in the world.

For the eldest, his passion was to be found in music and dance, finding within notes and movements a vocabulary with which to better express himself. For the second son it was the more direct clang of the blacksmith's hammer, dancing with iron and steel rather than people. Sal's own future would be found in tomes and heavy books whose pages were littered with all manner of subjects and stories. Each book was like a world beyond his own, offering limitless corridors of knowledge down which he could stroll for hours each day.

In time his parents passed, while his two elder brothers found their futures beyond Lhavit. Sal chose to remain behind with close friends to fill the void that his family had left, and life carried on without too much fanfare.

But then came that fateful day in winter of 513, (see gnosis section below).
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Skills

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Acrobatics = 2
Acting = 1
Animal Husbandry = 5
Brawling = 1
Camouflage = 1
Deduction = 4
Detection = 2
Endurance = 6
Housekeeping = 3
Intelligence = 7
Interrogation = 7
Intimidation = 2
Investigation = 33
Knot Tying = 1
Logic = 1
Meditation = 3
Mountaineering = 2
Negotiation = 13
Observation = 61
Persuasion = 4
Philosophy = 3
Planning = 5
Reimancy = 25
Research = 2
Rhetoric = 17
Running = 4
Socialization = 29
Stealth = 7
Subterfuge = 1
Tactics = 5
Teaching = 2
Unarmed Combat = 11
Weapon: Bucket = 1
Weapon: Longsword = 12

 

Starting Skills

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Investigation = 15
Negotiation = 10
Reimancy = 5, (15 Racial Bonus)
Unarmed Combat = 10
Weapon: Longsword = 10

 

Lores

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• A Brief Moment of Glory
• Accepting Death When It Comes
• Affording Respect to a Thief
• An Unorthodox Entry: Floored by a Chaktawe
• Animal Husbandry: Being the Alpha Male
• Animal Husbandry: Rewarding Corvo With Scratches
• Animal Husbandry: Training Corvo
• Anyone Can Hunt
• The Art of a Good Handshake
• Beast of Rage: Reigning It In
• Being Overwhelmed and Confused
• Being Possessed by the Evil Bunny Bunford
• Brawling: Using a Wardrobe Door As a Weapon
• Chaktawe is Stronger Than She Looks
• Changing Your Mind At The Last Moment
• Charm Of Simplicity
• Childhood Fears of Ghoulish Tales
• The Comfort a Sword’s Pommel Can Provide
• Corvo: Favorite Treat
• Corvo: Likes the Bed Too Much
• Corvo: Loyal Thief Catching Mutt
• Countering a Screwdriver With a Bucket
• The Crew of the Athena
• The Curious Effects of Head Injuries
• The Danger of Believing Rumors
• The Dead Man's Grip
• Deceiving The Shinya
• The Delusions Of An Exhausted and Drowning Sal
• The Demise Of the Athena
• Desk Jobs: Dreaded Occurrences
• Dira Did Not Want Me, So I Kept On Living
• Doubting Divine Favor
• Fighting Crime with Yet More Crime
• Finding a New Sword
• Fire Trumps Swords
• Following a Thief To Trouble
• Fresh Air To Clear the Mind From Bad Dreams
• Getting Knocked Out By a Chair
• Haggling: A Game All Merchants Know
• Hold On Tight, Or Die
• How Dog and Man Met
• How Not To Keep Your Balance
• How To Not Be Noticed By Enemies
• Investigation: The Art of Information
• Investigation: Cracking the Case! The Wrong Case
• Investigation: Looking For Clues
• Investigation: Retracing Your Steps
• Investigation: The Stake Out
• It’s Not A Good Idea To Fight An Akalak By Mundane Means
• Keeping Confidence Under Control
• Keeping Up With Fashion
• Language: Accidentally Turning a Question Into An Insult
• Language: 'Petcher' in Fratava Means 'Petcher' in Common
• Lhavit: Actually Might Not Be The Safest City
• Lhavit: Lazuli Ink
• Lhavit: Lucis and Lucis
• Lhavit: The Tourist Attractions
• Lhavitian Culture (Starting Package)
• Lhavit Streetplan (Starting Package)
• Little is Worldly Worse Than a Woman Scorned
• Longsword: Swipe To The Chest
• Loyalty: To Save a Friend's Coin
• Meeting a Ghost in the Soulmist: Winston 'Bunny' Bunford
• Merchants: Like Vultures, Looking for a One Night Stand!
• Parent/Daughter Story: Semele and Zintila?
• Philosophy: The Allure of Greatness
• Philosophy: The Nautre of Commerce
• Pleasantness of Speaking with a Stranger
• Pursuing a Thief
• Religion: Is It More Than Simple Becoming a God's Slave?
• Repetition Bringing Annoyance
• Reward For Saving a Young Maiden: Pot Duty
• Rules of the Athena: You Either Work Or You Take a Plunge
• Saboteurs On the Athena?!
• Sal’s Occupation
• Sizing up a Mark
• Sleeping In
• Sneaking Out Of A Hospital
• Star Festival: The Day After
• Staring Death In The Eye: There Is No Life Flashing By Before The Eyes
• Stumbling Mentally Due to a Blunt Thief
• Tactics: Act First!
• Tactics: A Fiery Distraction
• Tactics: A Sneak Attack
• Tactics: Strike Before Your Opponent Can
• Tactics: Weaken Your Foe Before Pouncing
• Taverns Near The Docks Offer a Diverse Crowd
• Touch of Fire: The Local Blacksmith
• Trapped In The Lion's Den
• Trapping: Recommended Places To Set Rabbit Traps
• Turning The Conversation To The Other Person
• Unarmed Combat: Shoulder Charge
• Wardrobe: Great Hiding Place
• Women: Mysterious Creatures Men Aren't Supposed To Understand

 

Lores - The Azenth

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• The Avisata Family
• Emotions Whisper Inside the Mind
• Hospitals Are Houses Of Suffering
• Immunity to Fire
• People Don't Always React Favorably To Ivak's Followers
• Readers of Emotion
• Secretive Cult of Ivak

 

Lores - People

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• Aram: Has An Emotional Hold Over Meela
• Aram: Meena's Uncle and Guardian
• Brandon Blackwing: Careful Thief or Annoying Talker?
• Brandon Blackwing: A Distrustful Fellow
• Brandon Blackwing: Djas?
• Brandon Blackwing: A "Good" Thief?
• Brandon Blackwing: Indulging a Fake Name
• Brandon Blackwing: Interested in Solomon Kriegsfelt
• Brandon Blackwing: Untrusting of Magic
• Burton Tally: An Unscrupulous and "Unlucky" Conman
• Burton Tally: Just How Smart is the Rat?
• Degby and Lemar: Won't Make the Passage Easy
• Kandor: A Respectable Savior of Sorts
• Kelski: Jewelcrafter
• Kelski: The Kelvic
• Kelski: Marked By Akajia
• Kelski: More Alive Than Anyone Else
• Kriegsfelt: Azure Market Merchant
• Kriegsfelt: Duo of Akalaks
• Kriegsfelt: Man of Habit
• Maeki Cho: A Generous Host
• Mayleena: Conversation Partner
• Meela: Gifted Reimancer Girl
• Meela and Aram: Not Father and Daughter
• Meela and Aram: Saboteurs!
• Mortimer Crow: Not Kriegsfelt
• Ornea: The Agreement
• Ornea: Can't Be Sane
• Ornea: Lives In The Solar Winds
• Ornea: Wacky Inarta Intent On Murdering Me
• Savos: Tattoo Artist With a Bad Day
• Sela (Alses): Works With The Radiant Tower
• Sela (Alses): Worships Syna

 

Lores - Reimancy

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• Fire Reimancy + Azenth Mark = Fire Gloves
• The Mind, A Sunlit House
• Reimancy Technique: Fireball
• A Tool of Persuasion
• Understanding Distrust
• Visualizing Transmutation

 

Languages

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• Common - Fluent
• Fratava - Poor
• Nari - Basic

 

Gnosis - Ivak

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• First Mark of Ivak (see here).
  
  • Immunity to fire
  • Can detect intense emotions in others
  • Gnosis mark on back of right hand

 

Heirloom

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Corvo is a Lhavitian mountain dog who quite literally turned up on Sal's doorstep as an abandoned puppy. Sal would feed the dog on his way out and always found it waiting to greet him on his return. Though never officially claiming ownership of the dog, Sal has assumed role of master while Corvo is unwavering in his loyalty.

Age: 2 years, (born 75th of Winter, 512 A.V.)

 

Clothes

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• Simple undergarments
• Simple white shirt
• Simple brown pants
• Leather tunic
• Leather belt
• Belt pouch
• Simple dark brown coat
• Simple brown boots
• Brown Water Resistant Cloak
• Black Wool Scarf

 

Weapons

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• Longsword
• Scabbard

 

Backpack

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• Comb (skyglass)
• Brush (skyglass)
• Soap
• Razor
• 1 waterskin
• Balanced rations (1 week’s worth)
• 1 eating knife
• Flint & steel

 

Housing

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• Location: Lhavit
• House: A common Lhavition home, located on the outskirts of the Surya Plaza on Zintia Peak. Furnishings include a canopy bed*, wooden desk*, soft rounded chair*, hearth*, couch*, and a large chest.

* Items included in Lhavit starting package.

 

At Home

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• Large chest

 

514

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Spring
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Starting Package +100g
Leather belt -4s (99g, 96s) | Rock, Paper, Swords
Longsword -15g (84g, 96s) | Rock, Paper, Swords
Scabbard -4g (80g, 96s) | Rock, Paper, Swords
Belt pouch -1g (79g, 96s) | Rock, Paper, Swords
Leather tunic -10s (79g, 86s) | Rock, Paper, Swords
Large chest -2g (77g, 86s) | Rock, Paper, Swords
Wages +273g (350g, 86s)
Living Expenses -135g (215g, 86s)

Summer
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Wages +273g (488g, 86s)
Living Expenses -135g (353g, 86s)

Fall
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Brown Water Resistant Cloak 3g, 1s, 3c (350g, 84s, 97c) | Storm Stories
Black Wool Scarf -3s (350g, 81s, 97c) | Storm Stories
Wages +276g (626g, 81s, 97c)
Living Expenses -135g (491g, 81s, 97c)

Winter
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(491g, 81s, 97c)

[Sal Mander]

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514 - Spring

Take Me Home[/url]
There Is A House
Meeting People Is Easy
Rock, Paper, Swords
We Become The Fire
Language Barriers and How To Break Them
Dark Trilogy I - A Dark Stranger
Dark Trilogy II - A Dark Alliance
Dark Trilogy III - A Dark Assignment
The Eviction of Winston 'Bunny' Bunford
Better Than A Desk Job
Corvo
The Cowardice of Thieves

514 - Summer

A Walk On The Wild Side
String of Unfortunate Events
Getting Inked, Getting Even

514 - Fall

An Exchange of Information
Mi Casa Es Su Casa
A Town Called Lhavit
Ruadh Gu Brath
Storm Stories
The Lhavitian In The Cupboard
Pulling Back the Curtain
A Further Exchange of Information
The Death of Sal Mander
Seasonal Experience: Investigation +2

[Sal Mander]

Additional notes and information pertinent to Sal's character history:

• First Gnosis Mark of Ivak :

  
  
  

  Last Day of Winter, 513 A.V.

  
  

  A tear formed. At first the glistening in the corner of the eye, reflecting the light of the full and proud moon overhead, until it became bulbous and too heavy to remain perched there. It's journey begun, the tear cascaded downwards across a rough landscape of skin, punctuated with stern hairs that stood like limbless trees. At the edge of its world, the tear fell into the great abyss beyond, spiraling down and down as the darkness below waited. Finally its journey came to an explosive end, the tear smashed across the ground and laying there helpless and in pieces. Others like it lay strewn upon the floor, like some terrible battlefield.
  
  The next tear Sal wiped from his face with the back of his sleeve. Crying was of little use, he decided, but could not explain exactly why. Unwanted as they were, those tears continued to emerge from reddening eyes, like leaks springing from a bursting barrel.
  
  Any onlooker would have found Sal perched upon a rock with his knees pulled up to his chest. His face, usually not betraying emotion, auditioned a fine display of utter despair. Tear stained cheeks and creased brows accompanied a half open mouth that held an incredulous look, while wild green-blue eyes stared intently at something beyond the here and now. His arms wrapped around his knees, Sal might have been carved of stone for all his lack of movement, save for the occasional wiping away of those tears that continued to defy him.
  
  Inside was a more chaotic canvas, whose artist had painted a fierce landscape of colors that clashed and collided into an explosive mess. Striking reds and yellows poured seemingly with reckless abandon, while underneath a more deadly and pure white burned with the might of a thousand suns. It bubbled and boiled, threatening to burst forth at any moment.
  
  Not unlike Ivak, that once terrible and frightening god who had wreaked so much destruction upon the world. His reckoning had come and the lands beneath his gaze had been left in ruins. The Azenth might have argued that he was misunderstood. But was there really any forgiving what, in a moment, he had unleashed?
  
  And what of man? Could there be forgiveness for great and terrible deeds if they were performed at the peak of uncontrollable anguish? Perhaps. Perhaps not. That was for other gods to decide, if they even cared to take notice. Gods aside, there was a far harsher critic of Sal's actions in the form of his conscience. A collection of experiences, teachings, influences from growing up as a child and into adulthood had defined what his conscience today considered to be right and wrong, good and bad, and all the little grey areas in between that either escaped scrutiny or sat lurking in shadows.
  
  "I did not intend for this," he claimed halfheartedly, scarcely believing his plea of innocence. Besides, there was nobody around to hear it save the trees and woodland animals. Only himself to pass judgment, and the evidence was firmly stacked against him. "I did not mean to kill them."
  
  He repeated it like a mantra as if perhaps his guilt would be overturned, but after a while it was more an admission. There was no solace to be found in the murky depths of his disapproving conscience. If any light still shined there, it was but a distant blip of a ship's lantern, engulfed and swallowed by black night and sinister fog.
  
  Sal Mander's deeds this day were harsh, but not without provocation. At the center of it could be found a collection of facts on the matter, some trying with little success to find justification, while others shouted a cacophony of accusations that demanded a guilty verdict. Only one fact really mattered though. He had blood on his hands and no number of explanations and theories were going to change that. Yet his intentions were never evil. No, not that. Misaligned with the the more common traits of goodness and truth perhaps, but not evil. Yet evil had ways of stealing into the world, sneaking its way into the actions of men to carry out unseen and unspoken agendas.
  
  Where did it come from? From what seed did it grow? Was this darkness in all men, stealing the light and casting its great shadow over what we knew as good? They, like a multitude of other questions were not to be answered today. Instead Sal could only sit, hugging his knees, wondering if there was ever to be a reprieve from the sorrow he felt right now. That sorrow had settled in, taken residence in the emptiness where only moments before a great and furious anger had reigned. That was it, wasn't it? The anger that came from deep down, as though like the earth itself a furnace sat at the very core, burning and scolding, seeking cracks in the crusts that encompassed it, where it might filter through with fiery tendrils of lava, pushing against rock with obscene pressure that threatened to tear the world apart.
  
  But now only sorrow.
  
  "Do you know me Sal Mander?"
  
  The voice was at once calming yet unsettling, spoken softly as though whispered to his ear, but at the same time ringing in his head, coming from everywhere and nowhere. Sal's head jerked up and before him a figure loomed, seemingly doused in a cloak of flames that angrily flickered and licked at it while wisps of smoldering ashes descended like rain. Yet for all the flames, the figure's pale skin was untouched, the red black hair unaffected. The eyes were lined in red, the centers themselves of the darkest, deepest black imaginable as though they were portals to far off and unreachable destinations in the night sky. Sal searched for words that would not come, yet the entity seemed to hear them nonetheless.
  
  "You are not evil Sal Mander. You are not legion with Rhysol or Krysus. But understand this. There is something that burns inside of you, at the center of your very being. From there sparks an emotion that flows and ebbs like a great river of fire. Rage. You cannot hope to tame it. Not you with all your might. It is greater than you. Greater than anyone. Yet burned as you are, you must not be consumed."
  
  The words made little sense to Sal who, for reasons he could not begin to comprehend, was filled with a fear unlike any he had ever felt before. Before him was this man. No, not that. It was something more. Something divine. He could not look upon it for fear that he might very well be consumed despite the entity's words to the contrary.
  
  Ivak, sensing his might was too much for this mortal to bear, softened his image, quenching flames and dispersing ash. Sal dared to look up, and wore a puzzled expression as he found the scene drastically changed. Where before he had sat on his rock by this fiery demon, now they were two men sat across from one another either side of a small campfire. Trees and dense thickets surrounding them, a calm breeze wafting through and carrying the small tendrils of smoke that lazily rose from the fire.
  
  The figure retained those endless eyes and wild hair, but otherwise he seemed just a man. "I' will admit my entrance was somewhat theatrical, but a god must maintain his image after all, yes?" Ivak offered a smile that somehow had a calming effect on Sal. It washed over him as though a light had been lit and gave sense where before there was none.
  ___"Ivak, the god of fire," Sal guessed, while the part of his mind that should have been screaming to him that this was a god remained strangely silent.
  ___"Not just fire. There is more to it than that," Ivak retorted, almost sounding wounded.
  ___"You mean the Valterrian?" Sal asked.
  Ivak frowned for a moment as he seemed to consider the question. After a pause while he stared off into the flames of the campfire, he spoke once more with a much softer tone, almost a whisper.
  ___"Here, today. You felt it. From deep inside, rising like a great tidal wave yet one of fire and brimstone. Rising up and threatening to wash over you like all that mattered in that moment was to carry out that one, resonating thought in your head."
  
  It was Sal's turn to reflect as the words sunk in. Ivak was talking with regards to what had happened here today. Unlike before, where Sal had sat on that rock and cried his guilt-filled tears, now there was more understanding, as though he was seeing his actions with a clear mind for the first time with no conscience that was determined to cast him into a cell and throw away the key.
  
  "Yes, just as you said. In that moment... I cannot really explain. It just felt like... I had no control." It was all he could put into words for now, as he too cast a look off into the flames.
  
  A few more moments passed, with only the crackling of the fire and the occasional beast off in the distance breaking the silence. "When those we love are taken from us, it is all we can do to hold on. Too much anger can spill over and lead to, well, catastrophic ends. Your actions were born of that fact. I am not offering justification for them, but meaning."
  
  Another pause, as though he was allowing Sal time to digest his words. Then he continued as Sal listened intently. "Imagine if a man's rage went unchecked. How long before it consumed him? It is with all things. A boiling kettle must let off steam, just as your bladder must take a piss before it bursts." Sal grinned at that, though the analogy was as good as any.
  
  "So too this earth must be allowed to breath. There are those that ensure this Sal Mander. They carry out the work necessary to keep the world in motion. Just as you experienced an upheaval of emotion today, the same applies to the world. It must have a means to release built up pressure, or everything stagnates. So then, I think perhaps you might serve me well, but that is something we shall have to see. I'll mark you with my first gnosis and we shall see how your life unfolds. What do you say to this?"
  
  Sal was somewhat dumbfounded. Was it not in the power of gods to invoke obedience from whoever they saw fit to serve them? Yet here was Ivak, the famed god who had brought the world to its knees and almost destroyed it, asking Sal what he thought of his proposition. Well, perhaps the god was merely being courteous and it was no proposition at all. Nonetheless Sal took a moment to consider the god's words, as though believing it to be polite to do so rather than actually tossing over the question in his head.
  "Of course I say YES," he wanted to scream, though thankfully fell to better judgement.
  
  "Who am I to deny a god?" Sal asked with genuine respect, though did he really know what he was getting himself into?
  ___"Then so be it, Avisata Sal Mander of the Azenth." Sal wore a puzzled expression on his face, prompting further words from the god. "You are fond of books. Look it up." He offered a wide grin with that last one, amused as he was by this mortal before him.
  
  For Sal, it seemed as though today he had experienced the very emotion at the core of what Ivak had himself undergone, though by no means on such a grand scale. There was a limit to all things, beyond which could not be contained by any restraint. To alleviate that pressure and bursting point was to keep things in motion, to keep the world on a sure path to continued existence. Else only catastrophe would remain.
  
  Finally, when all was said and done, Sal found himself falling into a deep sleep within which there were no dreams. He woke a few hours later, still out in the Alpine Wilderness just off of the Aramanthine River. Somewhat hazy from sleep, he wondered for a moment if the whole thing had been an elaborate dream. But turning over his right hand, the evidence there was undeniable, in the form of a flame shaped tattoo of dark brown, almost black color.
  
  He fell back into a deep sleep, unaware of the journey he had now embarked on. Was Sal Mander to walk the fault lines of Mizahar like a caretaker? Perhaps he would grow to muster the power of magma, that stirred and simmered in the bed of volcanoes with thoughts of one day spewing forth in furious rage. Or was it to be a position of power, where he might apply the principles of Ivak's aims on a more personal level, working to dissipate emotions and tensions?
  
  In any case, he decided, the library was probably a good place to start.
  
  (And so Sal's story continues here.)