Unknowing Crossblooded Sorcerer
Crossblooded Sorcerer lv4
Human (Versatile Human)
From cowardly to heroic in seconds, may be bi-polar
Loose and uncaring
+1 Hand Axe
Bellitan was an orphan in the coastal city of Orlav. Surviving off of rotten fish and stolen stale bread for most of his young life, and sleeping in gutter channels made him a hardy albeit scrawny child. As an young boy of no more than 12 years Bellitan was found in the hovel of a ruined fishers hut by three elder men of questionable resolve. These elderly men neither looked noble nor overly respectable, yet a small blind man in flowing robes, with an ancient’s long beard to Bellitan seemed more than trustworthy.
The little old man explained that they have been looking for him for some time and he was to come with them. With no real reason to do otherwise the young boy set sail that very day with the three ancient men and sailed for many days and night to the land of Arcadia. Though living day to day in the tiny port town it was his first time on a ship. When the ridge holding his home town fell off the horizon Bellitan was awestruck. After weeks at sea eating two meals a day, that were far more generous than any weeks worth of food he had previous, Bellitan began to fill out his sinewy frame designing himself a muscular boy. He assisted the sailors with day to day routine. Running and maintaining sails, minor wood work, fishing, mending net were daily chores for the boy. By the time they reached their dock he had turn from a grungy street mongrel into a strapping young man. Back on land the boy was reminded of his new friends that had payed his travel fair.
With the small blind man on a mule the two men with dark grey beards explained they were heading for a school that would train him to protect the world. Belitan had little idea what these men had planned for him nor did he care. Each morning he was handed a small loaf of bread and a fist of soft cheese. On the evening he was given salted spiced meats, a thick honey milk, and another loaf of bread. These two daily rituals were enough to keep tied to the elder with no thought of ever separating. Four days travel inland and he was admitted to the Arcanamirium.
The Arcanamirium was a huge complex of buildings, yards, and towers. Upon entering the main gate of the compound Bellitan stood mouth agape transfixed by the multitude of colors and flags that flew from building to building. Children both older and younger than himself ran and meander about seemingly carefree, with smiles stretched across their faces and noble garments stretched across the rest of them. Bellitan became quickly and keenly aware of the tattered rags that up to now were suitable attire, were nothing more than patchwork rags trained into loose fitting garbs. The three men led this now very embarrassed boy to a dias with twenty or so other children ranging in age and size. A man with a large book spoke to each child taking notes and giving assignments. One by one the other children left the dais leaving Bellitan and his 3 ancient escorts. Then large man with a small nose looked down on the raggedy boy and laughed heartily. Bellitan eyes immediately cast down heard the blind man speak loudly in a langue, beautiful and horrifying in the same moment. The mans laugh fade into a squeak and his demeanor became utmost solem. The man asked a series of question of the boy which were asnwered to the best of the boys ability. quickly the man led the boy to a smaller building toward the back of the campus housing nine other boys about his size. The man showed him to a bed with stacks of clothing nicer than Bellitan had ever worn but no where near the refinement of the children around him. The large seemingly sad man did his best to explain the ways life would be far different starting the next day.
Bellitan’s first day was testing to find his innate ability. The proctors stood around the boy instructing him to focus, shouting and demeaning the boy when he was unable to produce the desired effect. First he felt saddened by his inability led to a growing anger at the contempt the proctors were showering him with. Over and over the shouts stoked Bellitan’s rage till suddenly the ground under the testers softened and they began to slowly sink. When the jeers turn to shouts of panic Belitan watched the group of men struggle to remove themselves from the quickly hardening earth.
Bellitan had no knowledge of marital arts, no schooling, and no control over his magic ability he was assigned to the least of the classes. Years passed for the boy and his innate magic remained overly useless while his martial ability did advance greatly. Years surviving in the street and a healthy diet at school bore a strong hearty young man with and honed ability with small arms and light missiles. What he lacked in magic ability and scholarly training he made up for with wit and common sense.The ease with which he spoke and attitude for which he involved into over time brought him some favor with the older magic tutors. He was able to learn simple divination, and common transmutation from these instructors given extra time and focus. Even with the extra training Bellitan was unable to really unlock that magic he held deep within.
Year after year Bellitan learn more from instructors, grew stronger with his daily training, and grew more apart from his peers. Treated still as the peasant orphan with no title nor wealth to fall back on or offer for favor he remain at arms length of most of his classmates. One fall night like countless others Bellitan lay awake contemplating his lot in life. Counting off the years he came to a simple conclusion. With his mind easing he drifted to a dreamless blackness only to awake shortly before the dawn crested the courtyards. Quickly the young man dressed in his finest garbs and packed a few meager belongings in a hand made knapsack. Quietly he strolled from the dormitory as the other only just started to stir in the cool morning. He swept from building to build pilfering a list of supplies he threw together the night before stopping lastly at the armory. Still roughly two hours before the smith or any instructor would arrive he took his time carefully deciding on this last theft. Swords, axes, and hammers lined one side of the armory and glaives, halberds, and spears the other. He circle the room and noticed, in the back corner, hanging side by side over the cold forge two curved blade. The sleek black handles called the the budding thief, and the gleam from the rounded blade sang to the youthful scamp. Just below the weapons against the wall sat a special scabbard to hold them both. Bellitan lifted the battle sickles from the hooks on which the hung. Smiling warmly he put the repurpose farm equipment in their home and slid the scabbard and harness around himself and strolled from the armory.
Feeling relief he strolled from the armory through the main gate directly to the stables where he stole a horse. A mere day and a half later he was ferrying to the main land and a fresh start after six years of playing the ignorant peasant.
Bellitan took odd jobs here and there to finance his travels. Thatching a roof for a gold piece in one hamlet would get him to being a farm hand during harvest. Road to road week to week, led Belitan to The Dryand and the Splinter. As if fated, the owner of the inn was in need of some assistance and Bellitan was in need of some coin. Splitting his time between barkeep and bouncer with “Sweet Martha” serving the tables, Bellitan found acceptance for the first time he could remember. The happy pub owner Eridan the gnome and his wife Martha offered Bellitan a fare wage, a daily meal, and a bunk in the back. A deal Bellitan happily accepted.