Phineas Childermass

[Undying]

Why do you wish to play on Requiem, and what do you expect from the shard?
I enjoy Req, the people, the mechanics, and the feel. I have played on Req for some time and I expect the shard to be brutal and unforgiving.

What will your character’s name be?:
Phineas Childermass

Please briefly describe the physical attributes of your character, including age, looks, height, weight and any notable features:
Phineas, tall and gaunt, and not quite as stodgy as his name would imply. His raven black hair is swept back, but the length has made it curl at its ends giving it more a look of a half-wild mane than the tamed coif of a man from the Baronies. His face is clean shaven and pale, made all the more so apparent by the contrast to his thick black eyebrows. Slow to smile, the man is neither mirthless nor dimwitted. His eyes, ever inquisitive, belie a quiet appraisal of his environment.

Briefly state your character’s intentions or motivations for entering the First Province:
Everyone is flooding the First Province these days, refugees, occultists, tomb raiders, adventurers, and scoundrels. While Phineas told his family that he was coming to the First Province to set up shop and turn a small profit, the truth of the matter is his need to confirm his long-time suspicions about truth and the ever present affliction. If he was truly honest with himself, he would delve deeper and state that the challenge of surviving in such a dangerous time would be the adventure of a life-time for a shopkeeper like him.

Briefly provide a pertinent detail or notable quality of your character’s history (this does not have to be exhaustive nor revealing of any information you wish to keep secret):

Phineas Childermass. What a mouthful of a name. One would think that the name would indicate greatness, opulence, and wealth; one would also be quite wrong. Phineas was a man of humble origins, albeit a different upbringing. His family owned a small shop within Redholme selling sausages and off-cuts of meat. A business he would inherit at some point in his future seeing as how his eldest brother had been conscripted into the Legion when he was but a wee lad. The family had roots tracing back to the Mids, and while Yultish was spoken at times in frustration, it was a language that was lost on him; remnants from an earlier generation. Some traditions, however, had survived through the generations; some which could have had his family branded, tortured, and staked, notably the recognition of others besides the Archangel, after all it was the Mason that had set Eden on its path and certainly there were other deliverers besides the Savior of Man.

Briefly write an in-character response to the following scenario:

Phineas looked at the man across the table. Another bureaucrat quacking at him, probably for no other reason than to bring a moment of joy to an otherwise tedious existence. The tall and wiry man put on his best smile. "I've got my visa in hand friend and the best pies there are...old family recipe, you know." The man across the table looked unimpressed. Another man for the grinder within the First Province, likely some man who thought he would somehow be special only to realize he bleeds like all others and then come whimpering back to the Rumbling Pass begging for an exit visa back to whatever ramshackle he called a home.
"Folks have got to eat and I think I've the right things to open a little branch right within the Fort. Maybe branch out to Briar's Hollow once the pies are well enough known. The secret's in the sauce...everyone talks about fresh ingredients, but if you age them like a fine wine..." Phineas trailed off, looking past the man hoping he had bored him enough with the finer details of a good brown sauce to simply pass on through.

[The Watcher]

The officiant quickly took the papers and looked them over as the man rambled on. Something about pies and their ingredients, none of that really stuck going in one ear and out the other. The officiant gave a slight sigh as his day droned on and handed the papers back to the man, he was now hungry and wanted to get to his snack.
"Everything seems in order here, carry on you're free to go." The officiant declared as he waved him past, half leaning over to grab his snack.


Accepted