Walker of the Celestial Road - Luis Palmer

[Telkar]

Appearance
Luis is a man of light complexion, average height of 5'9" and seems to be in a good shape. His hair is short and black, and his eyes are dark. He tends to be clean shaven, or leaves on a short stubble. His overall appearance tends to be rather simple and neat and his countenance calm and composed. He speaks with an accent some may recognise as a Zherisian variant.

Background

743 BC
As a baby, Luis was found by a middle class older couple, the Palmers, on their doorstep on Winchester street in the Riverside borough of the city of Paridon. A note was attached to the basket he lay in, saying "Raise him well, and consider your dept paid."

743 - 754 BC
The Palmers took him in and called him their own. They saw to his proper education, both formal and informal. The Palmers owned a respectable clothing store in Riverside, aimed at the middle and higher classes, and often got Luis to help around the business. He gained a few good friends around Riverside. As he got older, his gypsie sensitivity to the movements of the moon begun to stir, getting him into trouble, resulting in scolding and eventually confusion and anger on Luis' part. Feeling alone and misunderstood, he gradually became more distant from his family, and became involved with bad company, largely hailing from the western borough of Blackchapel.

754 - 762 BC
Luis soon started to miss out nights at Winchester street, opting to stay more around a certain Blackchapel gang. When he did come home, he sometimes was under the effects of alcohol or other substances. He started to adopt some of the unhealthy characteristics of his gang, which eventually escalated to a series of burglaries and other petty theft. The Palmers were the closest he had to parents, and they always did keep their doors open to him. Mr. Palmer tried to guide and talk sense into Luis when he could, like any good parent would, but Luis was a rebellous teen and difficult to deal with. Luis still loved his parents, but stubbornly, he seldom let it show. One time he didn't show his face for two months, a period at the end of which he was arrested by the Paridon law enforcers and stuck into jail. In jail, he received a visit from Mrs. Palmer, who, with a heavy heart, informed Luis that Mr. Palmer had passed away. After this emotionally taxing conversation, and no help from mourning Mrs. Palmer, Luis sat stunned in his cell. It was a turning point in Luis' life. Deep guilt washed over him for all the times he disregarded the wise words of the only father he had known. He eventually vowed to change and turn his life around, such that his father would have been proud of. After about a month in jail, he was approached by a monk named Edmund Upton from the Temple of Divine Form. The temple had been given a grant from the city council to take in and train wayward youth, and so Luis was offered a way out, on condition that he joined their monastery, took up their practises and followed their orders without question. And so began Luis' path to enlightenment.

763 - 770 BC
In Luis' time at the monastery, he was taught the way of the monk. He was careful to lock himself in isolation on nights of a full moon, and thankfully his tutors were understanding, although intrigued. Through meditative practises, he went through deep levels of introspection, and on a solid base, formed his philosophy and way of life that he follows to this day. Luis proved to be a bright young man, scientifically inclined and unafraid to question tradition, yet he strove to be humble and open minded. He eventually mended his relationship with old Mrs. Palmer, and frequently helped her with day to day tasks. When Mrs. Palmer passed away, Luis decided to leave Paridon and wander the world, to both learn and test himself. So it was that he went to the Southshore and faded into the mists of the Shrouded Way. He expected to end up in Darkon, but the path had deviated from its normal course and deposited him in Barovia.


Former professions

• Inventory management and sales of clothing
• Burglar

Virtues

• Civil and even minded
• Selfless and generally tries to help those in need
• Has a strong sense of purpose

Flaws

• May seem aloof
• Weakness for addictive substances
• May be prone to utilitarianism
• Lunatio

Fears

• Loss of self-control and hurting people during lunatio
• Skin disease

Motivation

• Advancement and well being of human kind
• Reach mastery/divinity of the self to be effective in the pursuit of the above

//ooc: I schedule this character's gameplay in The Scheduler thread.

[Telkar]

I step outside my earthly shell.
I step outside the thoughts dancing in the mind.
I step outside the feelings stirring in the body.
I look upon them, swirling around.
They are the cyclone, and I am its eye.
I listen.

What can I say? Fate goes where she wants. Would I have been in the shoes of the common man, I would been favourably vexed. Fortunately, my destination was nonspecific. I suppose anything lacking certain fatality will do. I was looking forward to seeing Darkon however, and to put this language I have bothered to learn to use. There'll be another time and another place I wager.

Instead I got rerouted to Barovia. I don't know much about it, except as a name on a map amongst many other less civilized regions of the southern Core. What struck me, quite fascinatingly, at first was the verdant land and the many trees and other plants. The flora of Paridon, largely consisting of pot plants and street weeds pales in comparison. The absence of mist was also duly noted. Everything looks so stark and crisp! I hope to explore the land as soon as possible.

The little else I saw as I made my way to the Broken Bell inn of Vallaki, seems to underpin the region's alleged incivility. I briefly witnessed, amongst a gathering of bystanders, a sword fight between two persons clad in bulky looking metallic armors, similar to what one might read about in story books with a knightly theme. When one of the combatants had suitably injured the other, mafficking ensued. This happened near the doorstep of a "Temple of the Morninglord", perchance a major religion of the populance.

Before I entered the city itself past these skirts, I apprehensively noted a narrow iron cage hanging from the wall with a lonely human skeleton sitting inside. Furthermore, I noted the local laws written in stone. They are many exceedingly harsh death sentences and I am uncertain whether the locals acknowledge such a thing as fair trial.

Inside the city I beheld no violence, perchance due to the increasing presence of guardspersons therein. I realized then that the people on the inside of the walls, who wore a distinctive style of attire and almost uniform suspicion and distrust upon their faces, were the actual locals. It occurred to me that they may have mistaken me for one of the belligerents on the other side of the wall.

The sun was setting as I made my way to a suitable resting place. I noticed how the locals hurried inside their homes and locked their doors. It gave me a peculiarly ominous feeling as it became darker, and I felt an urge to get inside in time before the last glimpse of light would fade away. I finally came upon the Broken Bell inn near a semi-deserted marketplace, and in relief ordered a room for ten pounds. Either the Barovians don't value pounds by much, or simply want to encourage me to move on. Either way, my dwindling funds necessitate my coming across some local currency in whichever task I set forth to fulfill.

[Telkar]

I step outside my earthly shell.
I step outside the thoughts dancing in the mind.
I step outside the feelings stirring in the body.
I look upon them, swirling around.
They are the cyclone, and I am its eye.
I listen.

The day after my arrival, I met a young man just outside of the Broken Bell by the name of Jonathan Hawkesworth. We ended up in a conversation, and it turned out he was a recent arrival as well. He followed the River Luna from Blackburn's Crossing in Mordent all the way to Vallaki. In hindsight, I realize I never asked him why he took it upon himself to leave for Barovia specifically. Be that as it would, mister Hawkesworth is a taleteller who made a living doing paperwork for a magistrate in Mordent's Blackburn's Crossing. He's an easily excitable and loquacious fellow who, fortunately for his profession, knows his way with words. One topic lead to another, and in the end, our mutual lack of funds prompted us to help one another in the procuration of a job.

On our walk, to meet his query, I informed mister Hawkesworth that my goal was to help people in critical need, even if it were a dangerous undertaking. His reaction of seeming amusement reminded me of myself before my conversion, when I always doubted and knew myself so little. Thankfully, he does not seem so astray as I was then. As for the stated goal itself, it is by no means simple under the surface where there sprout a million questions, questions that I've asked myself and my teachers for years and I always come to the same conclusion. Humanity is one.

Our journey led us to a local farmer who was having trouble with overgrown beetles. Whilst we traversed the insects' uncomfortably hot underground domain, we met a man by the name Lorick Crowe. Mister Crowe is a well versed warrior, an ex-knight's errant from the city of Baldur's Gate on the Sword coast of the Faerun continent of Toril. Mister Hawkesworth and I were surprised not to have heard of a whole continent, but the mists move in mysterious ways and it is well possible that they shroud other greater wonders. This is where I also discovered mister Hawkesworth's intriguing spellcraft ability. I'm uncertain as to how it was of benefit, but it produced light out of nowhere upon incantation. I noted his shyness in referring to his ability by what it was. I suppose it's understandable, given the general inclination of the masses to be intimidated by the unknown. As for myself, I view it as a testament to humanity's brilliant potential.

When we were out, it was night time, and the moon was blood red in the sky, something I had never seen before. Mister Crowe told us werewolves and vampires roamed the night, what mister Hawkesworth referred to as "the night's Legion", an Ezran term. I was aware of the considerable dread that rose inside me, and it was hard to reconcile it. One cannot ignore one's earthly feelings, but one must learn to live with them and neither grasp them nor avert them and see them for what they truly are. This was a challenge, for which I'm grateful for in hindsight. As for the usual pull of the moon on my heart and mind, that is a more familiar experience, one which I can successfully reconcile the majority of the time, including that night.

Little else is there to say but that we took shelter in the temple of the Morninglord that I had passed on my arrival, noted two brutish looking Falkovnians and gathered our few fangs reward in the morning. Afterwards we parted with mister Crowe and went on a delivery trip with letters and fish barrels to and from a fishing lodge north of lake Zarovich. I felt delighted to experience the pure nature of the land. In the end we retired at the Broken Bell, satisfactorily funded for the time being. Shortly before that, I took a walk around town on my own and returned a little wiser, with a book on Barovia's history and word of a few other jobs.

[Telkar]

I step outside my earthly shell.
I step outside the thoughts dancing in the mind.
I step outside the feelings stirring in the body.
I look upon them, swirling around.
They are the cyclone, and I am its eye.
I listen.

When the sun had risen, I decided to take a walk west of the city, seeing as mister Hawkesworth's preference was to sleep in. I collected a variety of interesting plants and explored various locales, thereamongst an orphanage and caverns, in three of which I glimpsed arachnia of alarming sizes, and one in which strange small scaly creatures resided. I also witnessed wolves the size of horses hunting down and devouring a hapless deer. Thankfully, my practise of indetection allowed me to briefly observe and make my exit without endangering myself in each of these cases.

When I was heading back to the Broken Bell, it was already dark, and much to my dismay, the gates to the city were locked shut. I was forced to stay at the inn close by, the name of which was The Lady's Rest. During my stay there, a distressed man by the name of Kaz came inside and asked for my help in rescuing his three companions who were stuck in the steaming beetle cavern I had entered earlier with mister Hawkesworth and mister Crowe. True to my purpose, I went with mister Kaz and an additional aid of one named Yastani. When we were done, we had brought back one alive albeit favourably bruised, and two unfortunately dead. The one still standing was mister Lucas. The dead ones were miss Victoria, and a man whom I painstakingly dragged out of there and never caught the name of.

We brought the dead inside the temple of the Morninglord, for what I thought was burial preparations, but then I witnessed what I viewed nothing short of a miracle. The priestess Lizuca chanted her prayers over them and eventually, color came to their faces and they started breathing again. The potential of humankind never ceases to amaze me, and now I view the Morninglord's teachings as warranting careful study. What do his teachings evoke in ones such as miss Lizuca, such that they can resurrect the dead?

After these series of events, the sun had risen and I returned to the Broken Bell where I saw mister Hawkesworth. Deciding to seize the day, we decided to purchase oxen and deliver heavy equipment to a place called Dvergheim in the Balinok mountains and to the dwelling of Krofburg on nearby mount Ghakis. On our return from Krofburg, a trio of large white mountain felines lurched down on us from a hillside. Both our oxen perished, and mister Hawkesworth lay unconscious and bleeding from his wounds. I can still remember the feelings it brought, stronger than I've ever felt. There was an initial pang of mortal fear that arose in me and took all control. I didn't regain control until I was out of sight of the predators. I felt the fear clawing at me, and was almost stunned by it, but eventually I managed to separate it from my being. My focus went to my breathing. I was again the eye of the cyclone, and saw fear for what it truly is. It is not to be averted nor grasped. It is on the same level as other feelings, no lesser, no greater. It has pitfalls and it has wisdom to offer. I took its wisdom, and again in control made my move.

Thankfully the cats had only dragged the oxen up the mountain, but one of them was starting towards mister Hawkesworth. I managed to grace it with a bolt from my crossbow and it ran after me, all the way to a group of miners who helped me dispose of it. Mister Hawkesworth regained health after I made him imbibe a healing potion I had in my possession since Paridon and especially after using his own spellcraft to heal himself. A remarkable ability I must say.

When we were back in Vallaki and had collected our reward, we went to the western skirts of the city. There we met a Barovian lady named Andreea, whom we had met briefly on our way down Ghakis. She was a more approachable sort than the typical Barovian, and was in fact raised in an allegedly unremarkable noble house in Krezk. I'm still getting used to our cultural differences. She was not wearing a gown and instead tight pants which accentuated her womanly figure. Most baffling was that she offered to purchase a drink for myself and mister Hawkesworth. Would I and mister Hawkesworth have been wearing gowns ourselves, the reversal of our gender roles might have seemed driven to completion.

We took her offer of company and naturally demanding to pay for our meals myself. She tended to mister Hawkesworth's leftover wounds which I am sure he appreciated more than just for the healing. After we had shared a meal and conversation, we spent the night and eventually returned to the Broken Bell the following days.

[Telkar]

I step outside my earthly shell.
I step outside the thoughts dancing in the mind.
I step outside the feelings stirring in the body.
I look upon them, swirling around.
They are the cyclone, and I am its eye.
I listen.

Mister Hawkesworth and I, in our pursuit of funds and good deeds, decided to investigate the feasibility of rat hunting in the sewers below the city. We decided to stick with it, but mister Hawkesworth and his apparently squeamish self insisted this would be the first and last time he would partake in such an endeavor. Admittedly, the smell and rodent conjured an ample amount of unpleasantness in myself, but I would not have been without the experience. When I declared myself ready to set myself against the barbs of the world, I meant it. Every experience enlightens me in regards to my true self and the earthly shell I commandeer.

When we had collected our reward, we took a walk to the western skirts of town. There we met miss MacGillivray, whom I had shortly met at the Lady's Rest some days earlier, and miss Pascu. Both are involved in the church of Ezra. Within the church MacGillivray is an acolyte, training to become an ordained anchorite, but miss Pascu is of a more scholarly sect of the church and training to be a templar. What these titles entail exactly is so far unbeknownst to me. Due to mister Hawkesworth's affiliation with the faith, miss Pascu informed us that she were ready to offer us aid should we need it, particularly in the way of archery. I also discovered her to be an accomplished herbalist, familiar with the flora of the land I have so far superficially attempted to study. Seeing as she gladly offers it, I may seek her mentorship in these matters in the future.

As night approached we rested inside the Lady's Rest where we enjoyed the song of pretty bardess and bore witness to her amusing insults towards a rather vulgar, favourably peeved, bare chested and ill fashioned man.

[Telkar]

I step outside my earthly shell.
I step outside the thoughts dancing in the mind.
I step outside the feelings stirring in the body.
I look upon them, swirling around.
They are the cyclone, and I am its eye.
I listen.

A new Dementlieuse traveling companion, a young man by the name of Olivier joined me and mister Hawkesworth on a trip towards a ruined chapel of Ezra to the west of Vallaki, which happened to be of some historical significance, at least to mister Hawkesworth. I took it as an opportunity to discover more of the land. As for our new companion, his hope was to come upon some hidden valuables. Throughout our travels, mister Olivier proved to be an asset in our combative encounters as well as in the picking of locks, of which his level of skill seems to well surpass my own. He also seems to possess some skills with spellcraft. His persona reminds me of myself shortly before my conversion; uncouth, self centered, distrustful and evasive. It is an assumed mask, meant for survival on the streets, born out of the fear of getting hurt, not just in the physical sense. It seems to me that mister Olivier has led a tough life among the poorest of Dementlieu, and so his leanings towards thievery would be understandable. If he's to accompany us on further expeditions, I can but hope that his legitimately questionable reliability will not fail us in critical times. I shall believe in the best in him.

When we reached the walls of the chapel, we saw it was occupied by what seemed to be Ezra's faithful who preferred their privacy. The lands around were quite gloomy, and I felt a strange feeling of sadness near the gates, as if some dark past had infected the air itself. Away from the keep, we found a stone structure in which we took shelter from the night and hoped to find a hidden tunnel to the chapel. All we found were horrendous walking corpses and other supposedly undead beings, which we fortunately had the power to overcome. Having seen such beings, along with the complete darkness of the tunnels, proved to be a decent exercise of fear and nervousness. One could never be quite certain as to what pounced out of the darkness next.

Come morning, we decided to travel to see Krezk, the origin town of miss Andreea. Then we returned to Vallaki, where, much to my befuddlement, mister Hawkesworth insisted that I gave him a proper teeth preserving punch in the face. Its purpose quickly dawned upon me as we came upon the westerns skirts of the city. Unfortunately miss Andreea was not there to give my friend her gentle healing touch as she had done after our trip up Ghakis.

After our return, I sought out miss templar initiate Pascu, whose mentorship I sought in herbalism. After her lessons with the herbs I had gathered on our travels, she claimed I had a natural gift for the craft. As for miss Pascu herself, she comes from a family of traders in Borca. She strikes me as quite the philosopher, and mainly seeks to find out the meaning of life, something I can relate to. I am certain we will have more insightful discussions in the future.