Name: George Epheimr
Nickname(s): Patches/Ol'Patchy
Age: 54
Affiliation: Rogue
Element(s): Fire and Earth
Abilities: Over the years, George has learned to use his abilities in a variety of ways. Now in possession of the
Incendia Incarnum, a sacred book of Eve, his understanding and control over his pyrokinetic powers have increased dramatically.
- Pyrokinesis - The ability to create, manipulate, and absorb fire. Generally, George can only use these powers within close range. His control over fire weakens with longer distances. Uses include, but are not limited to,
- Pyroportation - Teleporting through use of fire and flames.
- Thermal Resistance - Immunity to fire, heat and otherwise warm temperatures.
- Pyrokinetic Healing - Can use fire to heal most external and some internal wounds.
- Pyrokinetic Construction - Weapons, walls, shields, auras and armor made of fire.
- Incineration - George's most common use of pyrokinesis. He can do this only by physical contact.
- Terrakinesis - While George is less in tune with this ability than his pyrokinesis, he can still manage to simply shape, mold, compress and/or expand earthen material. Uses include, but are not limited to,
- Terrakinetic Construction - Simple weapons, walls, and shields made of earthen materials.
- Petrification - Can petrify living and nonliving things via physical touch. George lacks true understanding of this ability and can only petrify over time. Organic petrification takes significantly longer to achieve than non-organic petrification.
Appearance: The years haven't been kind to George. His pale face is worn and littered with wrinkles, usually blackened from smoke. His greasy white hair stands in a flurry of cowlicks, tamed only by the strap of his eye patch. The patch covers his left eye, from which Eve's mark vertically branches out like a tree. The remaining "good" eye, once a piercing blue, has dulled to a slate gray. A long grey beard surrounds the bottom half of his face, of which he unconsciously strokes when in deep thought.
In his mining days, George was strong and muscular. However, his physique has disappeared along with his youth, leaving behind a scrawny and slender old man. Lanky, slender limbs oddly pronounce his hands, knees, and feet. He uses this elderly, helpless appearance to his advantage. On occasion, he carries a cane for dramatic effect.
George wears a large blue shirt he doesn't fill. His black pants are held up by a maroon sash that acts as a belt. He usually wears a black hooded cloak over this attire.
Geometric shapes and runic characters are tattooed on most of George's back, chest, and upper arms.
Personality: George maintains the persona of "Patches/Ol'Patchy" in Odessa. He frequents a bar in the slums called "The Horse and Shoe" where he is known by most as a variation of these nicknames. Only a few know him as George, and those who do call him Ol'George or Crazy George. He is fond of playing his part as a dimwitted, nearly demented elderly man. This silly act is only a means to an end, so he can frequent the bar and gather information unsuspected.
Despite his "Patches" persona, he is a rather intelligent and crafty man. The voice of Eve has infected his mind since his youth, but he has remained diligent in his quest to destroy her for the latter half of his life. By using her own power against her, he wishes to overthrow her. He believes she has been corrupted by her own power, and the redemption of mankind should be decided by them alone.
The children of Eve follow her blindly and ignorantly, and he can only pity them. As he is also a child, he feels a sort of love for them. However, he will let nothing stand in his way. Necessary sacrifices will undoubtedly need to be made. His hatred for Eve truly stems from the
voice in his head. He strongly believes that it will disappear if he successfully destroys Eve.
Biography: "Eve is a toxin that infects the world, and I will provide the cure."
The fresh air filled his lungs and he savored it before exhaling. He imagined his negative energies escaping along with it, in a sort of purifying transfusion. As the trees around him rustled with the wind, he took in another deep breath and opened his eyes. Before him was a dirt path littered with sunlight that broke through the shade of trees, shifting and morphing as the wind blew. He closed his eyes again and waited to lose himself in thought.
The faces of men who had failed to kill him, and those he had been ordered to kill by the
voice, flashed through his mind like consecutive strikes of lightning. Each face was accompanied by a gripping feeling of sadness, but he reassured himself as the images faded away. As if it heard him, the voice of Eve softly intervened.
"The faces of men destroyed by a monster," it said.
"A being of evil. The only way to cleanse this world is to end your own life. You are one of my greatest disappointments, George. That is the only thing you will ever be."
George took another breath and let the voice trail off into silence. By now he had learned that the voice was nothing more than an echo; a part of him that Eve's magic created to save itself. In his youth, it had tormented him and he had retaliated in rage. In his youth, he had listened to the voice and taken many lives. Like the northman and his son, the ones who protected the book. The
Incendia Incarnum. A sacred text that taught Eve's children of their power over flames. A book that could only be called upon and teleported at will by fire elementals who knew of its exact location.
He reached out with both hands as if he was holding a ball before him and in a tiny explosion of fire the book burst into existence. The blank pages flipped and fluttered before settling on a page that was just as naked as the rest. He grasped the book and brought it close enough to read. Upon touching it, words appeared as if a phantom was writing in calligraphic script with a fire filled pen.
"Ironic, isn't it, Eve? The very thing you created will help bring your end," George said. This time, the voice had no reply. The rattling and squeaking of an approaching carriage was all that resonded. The
Incendia Incarnum fell from his hands as he stood up and it disappeared in tiny flames when it hit the ground.
The carriage slowed down beside him and a man, who by the looks of the trinkets and gadgets littering the side of his vehicle was a trader, offered greetings. "Where ya headin', ol'timer?"
"Odessa!" George said as he grinned widely; almost crazily. The trader's own smile faded with unease.
"Climb on the back. Only a days ride from 'ere. An' don't touch nothin'," the trader said. As George climbed on, the trader whipped at his horses to continue on. "You got a name?"
"Most call me Patches," George shouted, his voice cracking under forced strain. The trader just rolled his eyes and said nothing.
Other: George is an avid reader.
Spoiler
