The Legacy of Bartholomew Ellsworth

[drowking]

Character Introduction



Fortune Plango Vulnera

Full Name: Bartholomew Ellsworth
Birthdate: Thawmist, 1st
Birthplace: Pontufex Hill, Redholme, Eastern Baronies
Birthsign: The Fool

Appearance
Age: 25
Height: Tall
Weight: Average, but toned
Eyes: Vivid green
Hair: Redhead
Skin: Pale
Handedness: Right-handed
Posture: Tense, always uncomfortable
Hygiene: Obsessively clean
Scent: Incense, aromatic candles

Physical Description: Bart looks young, although his demeanor might suggest an older age. A serious and stoic expression is perpetually stamped to his face. Vivid green eyes, an aquiline nose and thin, usually pursed lips are framed by curly redhair and a strong jaw line. His hair is held in place by a golden stripe, which might resemble a halo on his head. Albeit quiet, when he does speak his voice is deep, with an obvious Redholme accent. Around his neck is a silver necklace with a pendant shaped as a sword with two scales hanging from its cross-guard - the Church of Decus symbol.

Personality
General Health: Blessed by Decus (according to him, at least)
Profession: Knight in training
Faction Affiliation: Once a novice in the Church of Decus
Languages: Decusian, Nothryian
Accent: Redholme
Roleplay Tools: Faith, Church of Decus symbol on his necklace, citing Creationis

Hobbies: Reading sacred texts, purging Ill and undead
Habits: Praying to the One True God Decus, helping those in peril

Personality Description: Quiet and observant. Quite serious and stoic for his young age. Mysterious and hard to read.

History: Full story here

Strengths: "Decus is on my side"
Weaknesses: "Father, forgive me, for I have sinned"

Governing Virtue: Justice
Governing Throne: Wrath

[drowking]

“Knitted together of limestone, ash, salt, sulfur, I stand in awe at the immensity of our creation.”

I - TEMPTATIO

Father Ellsworth,

Thank you for the copy of Creationis. I think I left mine in the train, at the Rumbling Pass. Weary from the trip, I fell asleep with the book on my lap and I'm afraid it might have fallen under the seat. I can only hope it touches the heart and soul of whoever finds it. Perhaps someone in need of guidance.

I, too, am in need of such, Father. Without the scriptures, I spent my leisure time studying the practice of Humorism, as envisioned by High Avatar Felenius. While the discoveries of the age can't be accurately attributed to her, there is no denying modern allopathy derived from her work. So, in a way, through this research we are conversing. It was due to Humorism I have discovered I am a 'phlegmatic' person, governed by Sulfur.

In my readings, I was most intrigued by the fifth humor: Mutagen. Mainly because there was so little documented about it. At least, I couldn't find a lot in the library of Praesidium. The librarian seemed to choke when I asked for any tome or article on the subject.

My curiosity took a hold of me, sir, and I gave in. If not among scholars, then surely among scientists. I sought the doctors in the public clinic. This time I took extra care, but even in my discretion, the topic was quickly disregarded. I start to think if it is wise of me to pursue such knowledge; every attempt has led me to believe it is forbidden. And truly, not once in my teachings there, on Pontufex Hill, not once Mutagen, or the general Humorism theories, were brought up. Not even by you, my dear Father.

I would only find my answers in the clinic in Old Town, where the poor and miserable of the Fort are assisted and treated by the Apothecary Corps. Strangely, I didn't have to dig too much. A doctor was very kind to lend me some notes, which seemed quite personal, to be honest. "Not many find interest in that", she said. "Keep it a secret. Our secret. Enjoy."

Father, I must admit, since then everything has changed. Such theories! I never thought science could be so... divine. Sacred, even. While I understand the implications of researching the effects of blood on man, I have formed my own hypothesis around the subject of hematology.

To mention Creationis... We all were created from the Flame by the Archangels. We are their imperfect children. If blood is what carries our lineage forward, into the future, through our own children, then perhaps studying it is how we can find the missing link, into the past, between us and our progenitors.

And that, Father, is my goal.

Please, do not scold or try to dissuade me. It has been some time since this much excitement took over me. And phlegmatic people are rarely excitable. The last time, if I recall, was when I was knighted in the Order of the Flame - now just a broken memory. This orderless knight has found a new objective. When this letter finds you, I will already have started.

I do hope it finds you in good health, though. I miss you and the monastery very much.

Your pupil,

Bart.

[drowking]

"[Creationis, III:12] Full of radiance and glory, they possessed not only the abilities of their kin, but the power the Mason himself wielded; the power of Creation."

II - PECCATUM

Father Ellsworth,

I received your letter. And I have taken your every advice to heart. Yet, again I beg of you, do not try to dissuade me, or I shall bear the burden of not only disappointing you, but also disobeying you. How could I be dissuaded, when my experiments have warranted the first results?

Since I know the subject displeases you, I shan't write about them again. We can speak of more ecclesiastical topics, as I know to be your preference. And, I hope you still remember, mine also.

I've read Creationis again; the copy you sent me. It always astonishes me how the cycle of creation begins upward and descends. First the Void, which gave birth to the Ancients. Then the Ancients created the Mason. The Mason, powered by the Flame, created the Archangels and Angels. And, lastly, the Archangels created us, from the same spark, the same fire, the same Flame, from which they were created.

The evolution is clear enough: from dark to light, from profane to divine, immortal to mortal, celestial to flesh. I can only wonder what mankind will create... Should we continue the cycle downward, in a descent? Or, somehow, take a turn and revert towards ascension? Towards the Light. Always the Light.

I know not if my theories are blasphemous in nature. Perhaps you will clarify to me, Father. Once again, you are the beacon guiding me through darkness.

Your Pupil,

Bart

* * * * *

13th of Flowerbloom, 1349. Hematology research.

There seems to be a correlation between the day we're born and our blood. It should come as no surprise that the position of the Flame in the sky during our birth affects our mortal flesh. Hence, introducing different blood types into one's system invokes change: the body reacts and transforms. Any shift in the balance of the humors presumes adaptation.

"The Fool" is my birthsign. I suppose it is fitting, after all. Supposedly, this blood type is associated with resilience and constitution. I have been extracting and preserving it, 5ml a day. Not a large sample, quantity and variety wise, but comfortable enough. No one gets hurt, only myself. I'm at once scientist and test subject.

On the 10th day, yesterday, with 10 vials in varied stages of coagulation, I decided it was time. Laying out my kit on the workbench, I added the samples together and mixed them, obtaining a thick dark red fluid - a single 50ml dose. I filled a syringe and left it on the table, making sure to open the windows and let it bathe in the sunshine for 2 hours - so the Flame reignited the substance of life within my mixture.

I choose the Aiwella crypts as the testing grounds. I put the syringe in a case and took it with me, and made sure no one saw or followed me. In a large chamber, surrounded by undead abominations, I administered the 50ml dose on my left arm, through the rings of my chain mail; all of it. It stung, but I didn't feel anything initially. But then...

I felt stronger, somehow. More resistant. It didn't last long, it is true, but it was a first attempt. It was like a black out. When I came to, I was surrounded by fallen undead. The memory of the fight was fuzzy. Just a blur; a fleeting image in the shadow of the zealous fury.

What had happened? Was it the oversaturarion of sulfur, unbalacing my humors? The excess of 'The Fool' in me? Was that the reaction to my own blood?

Then... Would different blood types cause other reactions...?

[drowking]

"[Creationis, III:16] As the Archangels grew, so did their powers, until one day they were wise and strong enough to fashion their very own creations."

III - PROVOLVO

1st of Greengrass, 1349. Hematology research.

I couldn't take the theory off my mind. But the step I had to take held me back. To experiment with other blood types? That wasn't something a decusian would do. A moral line had to be crossed - the very obtention of the subject matter implied on the gravest of sins.

But Decus, in his golden wisdom, gave me the answer I needed. As I crossed a forest at night, I was assaulted by highwaymen. I administered a 100ml dose of "The Fool", augmenting my resiliance, and dispatched the poor men easily. I looked at them, broken and defeated, laying in the pools of their own blood...

Blood...

My eyes widened with the sudden realization that I had all the blood types I needed right there. I looked around, suddenly wary of my surroundings. Without thinking much, I collected a sample from each brigand and carried on. I kept telling myself they were criminals, outlaws; they deserved no morality, their crimes were no doubt much worse. I kept convincing myself that they were already dead, just food for the ravens, it would be a waste to leave all that there...

It took me a while to label every vial...

8th of Greengrass, 1349. Hematology research.

By mixing different blood types, I am capable of oversaturating a specific humor, or attenuate its action, both instances causing immediate reactions on the physique of the subject. With the samples obtained from the road, I created a prototype mixture: combining 50ml of blood of The Cog with 20ml of The Legionnaire and 30ml of The Fool. Again, I let it bathe in sunlight for 2 hours.

I took it with me into Aiwella. Surrounded by my sworn enemies - the undeads -, I administered the dose. I felt the effects nearly instantly. I became stronger, faster and more resilient, possessed by an euforia I couldn't explain. A will to fight.

Enraged.

Once again, I was taken by the zealous fury...

Father Ellsworth,

Everything is fine. I appreciate your concerns for my person, but you really shouldn't. I promise you, everything is fine, with Decus as my witness. Life in the province is strangely calm.

I am learning a new craft, Father. I am becoming a doctor.

Your pupil,

Bart