Nexus1237

"The only reason I dwell in this diverse realm is one word… curiosity."Nexus is the Arch Mage of the “Mages Guild of Arcanum”, logging his knowledge and experiences of his craft. Currently being a reborn human cured from dark depths of the void, his age had turned back by seventeen years. Given a better and longer chance for life, he jumps at his great opportunity. Now increasing the intensity of his endeavor into the studies and mysteries of the arcane, as well as learning his place in military strategy.

Personality & Physical Traits
Nexus is a young mage, although his age can be deceiving as he was originally thirty six, now turned back to the age of nineteen. He has a clean shaven face topped with brown hair, jeweled with blue eyes, and coated with tanned skin. He wears a leather cloak striped with gold lines. This old cloak was given to him by his first master in the school of conjuration. His cloak covers a white buttoned trouser, and ends past the belt along the golden lines of his dark pants.

His height is around 5’9, he has a lean build, just for a mage like him. It took him a while to adjust to his younger body, as it was reborn. Many had questioned why the Arch Mage of Arcanum was young, but after a thorough explanation, they understood.

He is extremely knowledgeable in the schools of conjuration, illusion, light magic (elemental practice), blood magic, and void magic. His loyalty can be extremely hard to gain, but once it has been earned, it lasts for many lifetimes. He has a special interest in the arcane, always hungry for knowledge. His expansive and knowledgeable mind knows how to follow orders, and how to give them.

A few downsides to his behavior can be manipulative mindsets that are given at times. He tends to obsess on the tiniest details of his work, making completion seem impossible. He can also loose self control when presented to the void due to previous traumatic experiences, control he is in an effort to gain.

Birth
Born along the cold shores of Frostmarch, a boy given the name “Calrand” was an only child brought into a family of sailors. Raised mostly at sea, Calrand developed a strong stomach and a lean build, good for running back and forth on deck, tying ropes and pulling up small sails. Calrand’s father was the captain of the ship, stern and organized, “Fjalkard Fire Beard” was his name. Fjalkard gave his son orders, and enforced a mindset to follow them, for now.

The Birth of a New Captain
When Calrand reached the age of fifteen, his father had decided to begin the installment of a leader into his son. He wanted Calrand to lead the ship, lead the crew, and carry on his legacy. Calrand never wanted to lead a ship, but it wasn’t his choice. Calrand followed his father’s every order… and lecture. Fjalkard began to teach him the arts of war, directing the ship, military strategy, and good leadership. Calrand took a liking to military strategy, he thought it neat how strategizing an army, or a ship, could bring him enjoyment, but he could never bring it upon himself, to be responsible for one’s death.

Well educated to become a captain, at the age of twenty, Calrand was ready to lead his father’s ship. Many had hired his crew for battle, cargo, and passage. They had made a good bit of coin off of their voyages and jobs. T’was till they realized that they could do anything, Calrand had realized death for his enemies was inevitable, never forcing him to question his ways, his crew felt unstoppable, and so did he.

Calrand became a sturdy and strong leader. He gave fire to his enemies, and blessed his close ones with light. They plundered, marauded, and captured. The wealth they had gained was unbelievable! Enough to build another ship! They stocked their treasures, and began to plunder more.

Calrand had earned a good pirate title, as well as a price. It was then they had just sunk another ship, that an armada suddenly appeared. They were caught in a war, and a big one. The armada quickly disbanded their ship, as if they were nothing. Rams broke in, arrows flew, many of his cremates had died, and so did his ship. Calrand was captured, with a big price o his head, that his captors intended to earn.

After one of the many battles of the Great War that broke out, Calrand was taken to the harbor of his homeland, Frostmarch. A land he had offended greatly, he didn’t care. They took him in, paid the captors, and readied him for execution.

He walked, dragged his feet in chains, as he made his way towards the block. The executioner’s axe was fresh, cleansed of the blood from the pirates before him. He couldn’t hear the villagers screaming, he could only see them in what seemed as such. The whole world had deafened, he was about to meet his end. He knelt, readying himself for death, and the axe swung.

Out With the Old, In With the New
The axe fell, not on his head, but tumbling along the ground. He couldn’t believe it, it couldn’t be happening, nay, this was not real! He raised his head to meet the face of a man, cloaked so thy leather, decorated with gold. He looked around him, the executioner was… gone? The people had ran, and there were no officers nor guards ensuring my execution. Only him. Calrand tumbled backwards, he asked a simple question, “why?” The man had knelt down, lowering his height of 6’3, and smiled, “You’re fate was meant to be so much more… dear captain.”