Character History
“Seven” didn’t always used to be a ghost. The dead were once living too, but what doesn’t change in life to death is his hatred all things. It always starts out with a minor dislike of people and conversations, but, as things usually do, they grow and grow with the magnitude of events. Sevens life wasn’t a happy one, but rather sad, and his hatred rather understandable.
Seven was part of a group of traveling merchants. Practicing magic on the way to and from his groups travels, and picking up secrets along the way, he was quite skilled at whatever he put his mind to. He was one of the groups main protectors and fought valiantly to protect those he cherished, and who he considered his family, but, as time would tell, even his family would abandon him in the end.
“Seven” or rather Lucius Royfield in life was a rather sickly man, but of his own making. In his childhood he underwent training in the magical arts, and had an affinity for morphing. He was rather good at becoming other people and by the time he was a teenager he already had a couple hundred models written down and drawn in great detail in his journal. Specimens ranging from birds, to foxes, to humans, and even some of the monsters that he and his group would run upon in their travels.
Finding that he hardly had enough power for his liking he started practicing leeching to take the power he wanted, and needed, unfortunately, to sustain his wild use of magic and shapeshifting. In order to counteract the weak state and side effects he augmented his strength with the use of the flux to keep him moving despite his sickly and continuingly weakening state of mind and body. Although it was evident to everyone, except Lucius, that he was going a little overboard with the use magic, careless, and seemingly reckless he used it to crush anyone who stood in his way.
As the years went on and on, the leeching having a more and more dangerous effect on his body, it seemed that he had finally mastered shapeshifting, and it was said by then he had totally forgotten his original form. His body constantly changing, and him, finding the human form far too weak for his tastes, always looked inhuman, like some kind of fearsome monster, some chimera. Of course everything was fine and dandy until he overgave. The overgiving crippled him, body, mind, and even soul. His appearance forever stuck in whatever horrible, misshapen form that it was last in. That’s all and good except for the fact that it was in-between forms, in-between shifting, and so bones were out of place, jagged, and even protruding out of the skin, a slight exoskeleton could be seen, half-formed, around his left arm, and his face all misshaped like he was made of wax and was exposed to melting heat. The rest of his figure totally disfigured just like his face and his left arm.
Faced with the reality of his actions, of his overgiving condition, he was thought, and said to be a monster. He tried his best to conceal his disfigurements from the world and prying eyes by wearing a long, flowing black cloak. He knew that he would forever pay the price for his mistakes and years of carelessness. Too egotistical to see a healer, like they could help them, his rage slowly built towards humanity and all who rejected him, all who called him a monster, and even towards those who accepted him. He knew no one could ever befriend a monster like him, and even his family, the group of merchants that he traveled with for as long as he could remember, deserted him. They didn’t find it profitable to be seen with such a ‘thing’. An outcast, hated as much by people as he hated them, he wandered the land in a permanent misery frequently having violent outburst towards those who subjected him to their gossiping whispers, he was soon hunted, and a price was put on the ‘monsters’ head, and by then he didn’t even consider himself human.
It wasn’t soon before his mind completely shattered. Being hunted constantly had a toll on the human psyche, and Lucius soon started referring himself as Seven. Some say there is a deep reason behind this; that perhaps he considered himself above humans, more than a human, and so adopted a name that reflected his independence to the human race. Others say it might be the number of fragments his personality split into, and yet there are even more saying that it is just a number. Maybe Seven is just a number. The reasoning to most is unknown, but it could be a fun thing to ponder.
Seven, the horrible monster the once great Lucius was degraded to, didn’t fall to any hunter or bounty hunter, but rather from his final overgiving in the area of flux. In a fit of rage he was destroying a forest, punching down whole trees, and just did it one too many times. His body was torn apart from the inside out by the use of his own power. Though a traveler did come across his body and claimed the reward for killing the ‘monster’ who was destroying the forest.
Even in death Sevens hatred for all things continues on, binding him in Mizahar. His soul still undertaking the endless travels of that his body could never complete. He seeks only ruin and destruction for all those who call him a monster, and their kin, and as a ghost, given this second chance, the fist victim he targeted was the greedy person who took the bounty for his death. Although while in the process in taking his revenge, a spiritist stepped in, having heard of an evil ghost in the area, and effectively put an end to Seven by any means necessary, though with giving the angered spirit plenty of warning, or so the story goes.
Ignoring the warning, and underestimating the power of the spiritist, Seven continued to try to claim his victim, but the spiritist would stop him every time, but every time the ghost would come back just a little bit stronger and stronger. Eventually he was dusted, pinned to a wall with well over fifty souldarts and by the efforts of three spiritists, this ghost was finally silenced, dusted, and put in a urn, which was effectively buried in a tomb and sealed away with glyphs, and magics of all sorts.
Spending a little over one hundred years in the dusted form, he sat there, imprisoned, and at the mercy of time and fate. All the while his fury grew more and more. It was only until some ‘treasure’ hunters raided the tomb that he was placed in that he was finally freed. One of lesser intelligence let themselves be talked into taking the urn with them, although it contained nothing seemingly of value. The ghost plotted his escape, and whispered day and night into the poor persons head. Eventually, after much effort, he had the curious man steal some soulmist from a local Spiritist and finally free him. Out of the ‘kindness’ of his heart Seven ‘spared’ the mans life. He was far too weakened and out of practice to kill, but he did possess him, or tried to.
The foolish treasure hunter, being attacked by the ghost that he helped, sought help and protection from another Spiritist. This Spiritist though had no patience for negative ghosts, Seven being in a much weakened state having just come back from being dusted, was easily banished to a more permanent resting place, the void. Two hundred and some years pasted sense Seven was voided and it wasn’t until recently that he stumbled upon an opening in the void, and took his chance to rush on through making his way once again back to the world. Now this spirit of destruction and rage wanders the world once again, bent on the annihilation of all, but he is greatly weakened by the years of being in the void and the inability to practice his abilities. Its going to take some time to get back into the groove of things. |
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by Seven on January 18th, 2011, 1:19 pm 