Pathfinder Nordic Lands
Level 2 Human Wizard
I will attach a character sheet here when I get one that works online.
Physical description: Bald, Black facial hair, Grey, dark eyes, Pale white skin. Blacked burns on his hands. Mikaeus stands 5’11’’, with a lean frame. He weighs a mere 145 lbs. Quiet, brooding, and sinister, Mikaeus keeps to himself unless he needs something. He prefers to use reason and magic to dominate situations rather than brute force. If some such occasion arises that he need brawn, his indebted servant Sigvatr Sveinsson (Dan) manages the task. Mikaeus searches all lands for anything to increase his power, his lust for knowledge never sated. His ultimate goal is to return to his homeland and rule with unlimited power over the kingdom.
Michael Westmonte was the youngest child of a well-respected Noble family. Growing up, Mika wanted to be successful and prosperous like his father before him, but found himself ridiculed by his siblings. Many others: servants, townsfolk, fellow nobles: constantly whispered of his inability to measure up to his family name. While most other parents encourage their children to be the best they can be, Mika’s Elders were an exception. Constantly judged by members of his family Michael felt great shame. “Why does he lack skill?”, “What wretch did Lord Westmonte produce!?”, “Is he even worthy of our name? Hahahaha!”. By the time he had grown from a boy into a young man, nothing had changed. None of his dreams of success had been fulfilled, his magical talent still barren. His younger brother and sister had already mastered basic cantrips, whilst still younger than he could recite the same spells. It was the morning of his 18th birthday on which his father summoned him. As Michael entered the Lord’s personal chamber he could feel his father’s anger…
“Good morning Father.”
“Do not speak unless spoken to child!”, Lord Westmonte shouted as he spun to face Mika. "Why are you still here? You are a man of 18! Why have you not mastered you spells for war!? You should be leading our armies in the fight!, The Lord’s words stung in Mika’s chest…
“Father… I have tried… so many times…”, tears began to roll down Michael’s face as he clutches at his spellbook hanging from his side.
“You have tried!? HA! What have you tried!? To be mundane!? To be worthless? TO BE LESS THAN WE EVER WANTED!?”.
A sudden motion brings Mika’s wet face upward, his eye’s clear the floor in just enough time to see his father’s hand hurtling toward him. The slap rattles Michael’s very soul, and his skin burns in anger and sadness. His father hulking over him snatches the spellbook from Mika’s belt, ripping it from it’s holster.
“A worthless worm like you deserves no more chances. You are not a mage of Westmonte… You are not magic… You are not my son… And you will never be capable!”. Which this Lord Westmonte threw Mika’s spellbook into the flames and walked away.
Michael scrambled to his feet and ran to his burning tome. It was almost completely gone. All that remained what a large rounded square coal in the flames. Mika felt his sadness turning to anger, his anger turning to hate. He lifted the coal from the fire, flames licking and burning his flesh. He opened his robes and drove the ember into his chest. Carving the spells from his teachings into his skin from his memory.
Bitter and enraged, feeling of powerless and helpless, he left his home. He no longer wanted to impress the world, but rather he wanted to punish everyone for their insolence. He would become the most powerful mage ever to exist, and he would watch everyone is his kingdom burn as he had. He became obsessed with proving himself above all others; Michael must know all magics. He would collect all power. He would use this knowledge to make the world burn. Once burnt, then it could bow at his feet.