Craugh
| Craugh | |||||||
| Male Positai | |||||||
| Player: CraughSPL | |||||||
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| General Information | ||||||||||
| Full Name: | Man: Craugh, Beard: Phil | |||||||||
| Nicknames: | Old Geezer, Codger, Finger-Waggler, Boss, Bag of Bones, Elder, Spellchucker, Grandpappy | |||||||||
| Age: | He looks old | |||||||||
| Deity: | *points at self* | |||||||||
| Alignment: |
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| Occupation: | Arcanist | |||||||||
| Faction/Rank: | Godsmen - Initiate | |||||||||
| Place of Birth: | Tradegate | |||||||||
| Physical Attributes | ||||||||||
| Height: | 6'0 while hunched | |||||||||
| Weight: | 119 lb | |||||||||
| Eyes: | Glowing Opalescent. Right one missing. | |||||||||
| Hair: | Pure white | |||||||||
| Complexion: | Wrinkled Prune | |||||||||
| Physical Build: | Beanstalk | |||||||||
| Physical Features: | Eyebrows mostly burned off. Intertwined Szuldar lines looping over his left eye socket, down his cheek and neck to terminate at the pelvis. Faintly phosphorescent skin. | |||||||||
| Skills | ||||||||||
| Arcane Engineer, Surgeon, Walking Planar Dictionary | ||||||||||
| Equipment and Items | ||||||||||
| A plethora of wands, rods and spell ingredients hung on his waist or poking from pockets. A 6'0 walking stick as bent and gnarled as its owner. A dusty, clawed, burned and utterly ragged gray suit and cloak. | ||||||||||
A reedy voice wafts over the crowd in the market ward, accompanied by the regular tapping of wood on cobblestone.
The owner of this voice quickly comes within sight: a heavily hunched and stick-thin figure moving with a hobbling gait through the bodies gathered at the square, a shredded cloak flapping behind him and a gnarled walking stick grasped tightly in both hands. He nods to many with a bright smile on his face and cheerful tone, greeting each with a piping "Mister" or "Miss." His single eye flashes from one person to another as if constantly seeking something, or everything, completely independent of who he is talking to from moment to moment.
The piping voice and roving eye finally still after a short while. The wizened elder settles back comfortably against a pillar with a soft sigh, and now that his hands are free, his head sinks into them, the fingers ruffling his frizzled beard of their own accord. A more comfortable smile spreads across his face when he catches your glance, tilting his head a bit in a mildly curious expression.
A Passerby's Comments
Eh? Can't see fer yerself? Just a heavily hunched old fellow standing at six foot with grizzled face, bright eyes and--wait. His eyes are actually glowing. The hells? Just enough to be visible under his hood, like a pair of opals catching the light, ye see 'em? The matted, frizzled beard extending almost to his waist is a distraction, o' course... I can only see the vague outline of his mouth, but what little skin that's visible is rather odd too. A phosphorescent off-white. His hands are mostly wrapped up in rag strips, but even his knuckles glow faintly in that shadow.
Did you see his face when the hood was down? The old codger has glowing white lines looping above his left eyebrow and trailing all the way down the side of his neck!
Come to think of it, the only normal thing about him is that gnarled walking stick he always leans on. The ragged gray suit he's wearing has so much dirt on it from traveling, you could whip up a dust-storm just by patting his shoulder. There's over a dozen pockets stitched in all over the place. Speaking of stitching, his cloak looks like its been clawed to pieces and resewn a dozen...strange. Those tattered edges look exactly like they were made by claws. Big ones.
Hmph. Ye spot th' grimoire on his hip? The one hanging by half a dozen chains from his belt, and padlocked too? *snorts* He's just asking fer that thing t'be bobbed when he looks t'other way. ... 'course, ye jus' know there's something nasty on it ter keep light fingers off. Ehh, what're--oh. Yeh. See those runes on th'edge? *sourly* They explode. Touch th'binding and ye'll lose 'alf yer hand.
Are those burns from on his left side from acid or fire, d'ye think? He probly got them at th'same time he lost his eyebrows. Looks like they're only just starting to grow back.
His right eyeball is missing. Not the eyelid, or the muscles 'round it. Just the peeper.
Attitude
Insatiably curious with an impulsiveness to match, Craugh can be guaranteed to poke his nose into whatever interests him. His attention as a result is almost manic, flitting between objects, people, ideas...the turnings of his mind never ends, and it shows. An active mind may make for a powerful mage, but it also distracts that same mind from other matters, such as keeping life and limb from getting torn apart.
That means if you're a stranger, you can be certain of a visual inspection from head to toe. No exceptions. Your face is the last place he's going to look, once he's done processing everything the rest of your appearance can tell him.
A rising star with a sob story in your wake, slow to friendship and loyal to the death: that's your godsdamned classic berk. Craugh? HAH!! Turn that on its head, and you might start to understand what goes on in that creaky old brainbox.
Cheerful to a fault, Craugh will ordinarily smile at practically anything--especially if he's never seen it before. Anger and other emotions comes just as quickly, but far more rarely. Don't believe me, berk? Trying telling him that he's a bad father, if you want to be polymorphed into a squirrel and flung down the sewers for gibberlings to gnaw on.
The Chant
Background
Not much to tell 'ere. Where 'e came from is plain 'nough--Tradegate, or so 'e says. You go sniffing around there, and a couple things will turn up. Firs', he was jus' another urchin, or so th' cutters policing th' streets'll tell ye. Human dregs the kind you see scurrying 'round any proper city. How a street rat figgered out ter use magic is anyone's guess.
An addle-cove from the start, if ye talk ter th' traders. Always wanderin' th' streets an' hills, sayin' it could all vanish. I mean, some of it did, it's the Outlands, ya know? But this barmy little bugger thought it would happen to everything, so 'e decided to see it all afore it 'appened. Took to playin' a guide fer travelers after seein' so much 'imself. *taps nose* You know he was barmy even then b'cause all 'e asked fer pay was books, stories an' th' like. Jus' curious as you wouldn't believe, cutter! 'ventually I s'pose he started gettin' 'is hands on th' stuff dazzlers use ter cast spells, an' away 'e went.
Somethin' 'appened along th'way ter make 'im glow like that, o' course. Yer guess is good as mine.
Associations and Commonly Visited Bergs
If you 'ave a bit o' luck or brains t'see Craugh 'round Sigil, cutter...
- He works at the Archives around the clock, always in and out with odds and ends. Some of which squirm.
- Known among bashers on the street as a fast way to coin, if you're willing to risk jumping Planes like a manic frog!
- Seen mingling indiscriminately among Smileys and Biters alike. He's just as likely to know the cony as the cony-catcher.
- This 'un is willing to cross-trade just as much as the berk in black on the corner, and more likely to have what yer seeking.
- Has a contract with a ________, calls herself Antonia of Hjordis.
- Has a contract with a _________ who doesn't deign to talk to the soul-bags much...but Craugh calls him Kobal.
- Has a contract with a ________ who likewise eyes ye as if yer soul is jus' a bit o' jink ter pick up. Which it is, ter Valon.
- Has bounties out for certain living (or un-living) specimens brought to the Archives
The Dark of It
Eh...not much ye want t'say 'ere wi'out lookin' o'er yer shoulder. Did I mention the ol' codger's barmy? Talk is, 'e killed is own son, right in th' middle o' th' Market Ward! 'ad one o' them acid shields and somehow 'is own boy jumped on 'im. And how d'you know it wasn't the blood 'imself who twisted 'is son's head ter do that!?
An' it didn't end there. The geezer dragged 'is boy outta th' ward, t'Darkwater Cove...who knows fer what. 'e 'ad Harmonium on 'is tail th' whole way. I an' th' rest o' th' lads 'aven't seen his son agin. Bit th' iron, some say. 'is own father finally killed th' lad fer bein' a disgraced drunkard. Others whisper o' worse...
Ye think jus' killing yer own son is the worst? Hah...hahahah. Stitch yer lips afore I decide yer better off branding "Clueless" on yer forehead. Spellslingers are tricksy, understand! Craugh may smile at ye, but 'e can be jus' as much a bad blood as a fiend if ye rub him th' wrong way. Otherwise? Well, 'e can be yer personal guide to th' Planes, every copper bit o' yer jink back if a hair on yer head is touched along the way!
Bashers say he keeps a sharp eye on his employees too. After all, what use're they to him in the deadbook? 'less they sold their bone-bags to 'im in the bargain fer re-animatin'. Heheh.
Philosophy
Unless you want him to flap his bonebox at you for a few weeks solid, don't ask. The cutters who've already had their ears talked off may be a better bet.
If you want to know what life is 'bout then go to life itself, or so Craugh would tell you. Nah, he's not a Cipher or Sensate who only relies on th' experience o' life. He's a finger-waggler after all, and you have to think to cast spells. Certainly he doesn't have a set o' straight an' narrow rules to go by--else he'd be a Triad of Law flunky!
For that matter, he does act like a Xaosman, I s'pose you could say. Jus' does what he likes with none to say "Bar that," 'less ya feel confident enough to get in the way of a spell-chucker irritated with an interruption--you.
But then, if you actually listen to the addle-cove's rambling, there is a sense in it all. "Lookit life itself," I said. According to him, s'all the same! Fire, water, earth and air, negative an' positive energy...s'all got the same source. If you find the source, if you can measure, qualify and quantify, poke and prod enough to figure out how t'grasp it...you know what life is in every way, an' the dark you gain will be why you have it.
Research
Make no bones about it, this is where the barmy comes out in Craugh. From the looks of it, he wants to track down
and catalog every single kind of soul in the Multiverse. Impossible? Well, o' course! S'not like that's going to stop him, though...I did say this is why he's in his own special category of barmy, aye?
So: if you happen to be a particularly interesting fella, then don't follow this blood anywhere without keeping a Hardhead in sight. Else you may just wake up the next day with no memory and half your organs stitched back together, replaced, or just plain missing.
'course, this works both ways provided you're canny. You missin' something, or 'ave any other odd troubles? Spin the tale right and you may not just get fixed, but improved in the bargain struck.
Talk of the Street
Harmonium Officer #1
The old fool always babbling about some expedition or another? Good man. Takes the crazies with him to die out there.
Harmonium Officer #2
HIM? You, you and you, you're coming with me! If that berk even thinks about abducting anyone else again, he's going straight to the clink!
Harmonium Guard #1
A cooperative mage. That's a first. Polite, too. Spellslinging bastards like him usually think they're above the law. Huh. Come to think of it, there has to be a reason the doddering old fool is so polite. No one is that polite to a Hardhead if they can help it. What's his game? *walks off muttering under his breath*
Harmonium Guard #2
Word of advice, cutter--don't ask him anything. I made the mistake of questioning him only once, and ended up on the verge of committing assault to make him shut up! What kind of reputation would that make for the Harmonium, eh?
Fated #1
That hunched-over bag of bones?? Where is he?! He seems to have no taxable estate, oh yes...hah! He's a spellslinger, no fool that one! He practically throws platinum at the berks he picks up off the street as employees, and I WANT TO KNOW WHERE HE GETS IT! *pantpant*
Fated #2
Craugh? You have to respect the blood, I'll give him that much. The old man looks innocent and cheerful, but who in the Cage with that many years as a Planeswalker can still be so much of a Clueless? He'll walk up to anything from Slaadi to Modron with a grin on his face and a question on his lips. It can't possibly be anything more than an act to get what he wants, otherwise he would have been a deader long ago.
Bleaker
The kind old man? Absentminded, certainly, but always happy to assist when I request it of him. If he is an especial hurry for some reason, he usually just provides a sizable donation. What? Well of course I don't press him! It is his business, after all. The help he has provided is more than enough recompense for a little privacy.
Market-Ward Tout
Th-that one? He turned a man into a spider, then himself into an iron golem and squashed the poor sod. Face calm enough t'be saying 'ello, not turning you into a bug and flattening it under his heel. I wouldn't say a word to him, if I were you!
Godsman #1
Of course, that's one who has his brainbox on straight! He understands the depth of everyone's potential, 'ow to climb the ladder! Couldn't ask for a more enthusiastic fellow to seek the Source.
Godsman #2
Commendable for pursuing his evolution so doggedly, but his beliefs themselves are highly doubtful. A mysterious, unknown source of all energy, as opposed to where Planes are clearly created? That is the Astral, of course. I am grieved to say his energy is badly misplaced--and hence his Ascension delayed, more's the pity.
Mercykiller #1
Hmph. Takes orders from authority. He won't be dealt anything more than a fine at that rate. Not worth a second glance.
Mercykiller #2
Hmph. A mage who does what he's told? Has to be hiding something.
Dustman
Arch-magus Craugh? Why, yes. He is an impeccable customer, only choosing the strongest of deceased warriors' remains for re-animation. Are you also interested in purchasing one? I have all the paperwork and witnessed signatures you could ask for right here.
Signer #1
Unpredictable to a multitude of faults! One cannot make a prediction before knowing the ruling forces, he is hopeless I tell you!
Signer #2
Craugh you say? Hmmmm...indeed, the old soul is known. An erratic and fulminant wellspring to match an equally disciplined direction of the flow! Conjecture? A challenge, yesssss.
Sensate
Oh, if only we could distill the knowledge as a whole from a person like Lothar the Old! A single glance can tell you the barmy fellow has a plethora of strange encounters locked inside his mind, but he is so stubborn in clinging to them! *stamps foot*
Archives Clerk
Oh Powers, whatever it is, NO. I am NOT helping him lug another goddsdamned "specimen" down to the laboratory! You see this burn? And these bite marks, here, and here? This splotch of grey skin on my collarbone? First it was an acid-spitting cobra, then a yowler, and then a sodfucking wraith! Forget it. He can kill himself playing zoo-keeper for all I care! Or surgeon, whichever. *shivers*
Clerk Ward Tout
The geezer's back with his skin intact? Hah! * turns and yells* You hear that, ya sods?! You all owe me fifty jink!
Xaosman
Organizing the entire Multiverse despise I Craugh despised the man, loving much for him creating chaos it contains!!
Random Black Abishai
He's run out already? How much more platinum he want to exchange for Cages this time?
Random Athar
The blood has lived long enough to get the dark on the gods, for certain. He doesn't bow and scrape to any, far as I've seen. Too hopeful though, if you ask me! Always smiling, as if we're not in a battle to free ourselves from the tyrants of the Multiverse. Which we are, berk. *glares*
Random Bazaar Merchant
Ah yes, you are here for the shipment? I have everything requested on the, ah, voluminous list, here: porcupine quills, sunstone shards, heart of a hen, crystallized residuum, unicorn tail hair, pinch of blood sand, nymph tears-eh? You mean to say you're not his errand-boy? Off with you then!
Possessions of Interest
Gem Pouch: A large number of King's Tears, rubies, diamonds and emeralds can be seen if you have the vantage point for a glimpse into this inconspicuous pouch. If sharp-eyed, you'll notice that some of the gems glow with an inner light that flickers and moves within the crystal matrices.
Walking Stick: As wizened as its owner, this stick is not the same from day to day; it will often be seemingly replaced by the nearest suitable dead branch once trimmed to size. However, after being in combat alongside Craugh others may begin to realize how many spells he can draw from this otherwise innocuous walking aid.
Pixie in a Bottle: Craugh doesn't appear to have a very high opinion of his familiar. Poor thing. It's perfectly innocent...right?
Grimoire: So much as look at it funny (Craugh doesn't trust Spoonbenders), and you will receive a first-hand demonstration on what Grandpappy does to make his gems glow.
Assorted Notebooks: See above. If you're lucky, he'll just disintegrate you.
Alchemical Glass Tubes: These clearly have a similar enchantment to Bags of Holding, as Craugh stuffs far larger things than should fit in here. Blood and tissue samples, spare diamond dust, eyelash in gum arabic, globes of elemental grease, assorted limbs...you get the idea.