|Mortal Name:||Uriel Roberts|
|Fae Name:||Uriel Elassar Michel|
|Age (Seeming):||24 (Wilder)|
|Height:||6'2" (6'6" in Fae mien)|
This man is tall and handsome, with a broad-shouldered yet slim frame that stands at a little over 6 feet. His shoulder-lenght blonde hair is pulled back, and tied up with an intricately knotted leather strap. His features are young, making him look to be in his early twenties at most, and attractive, though he's not breathtaking either. Perhaps it the distracted look in his midnight blue eyes when he speaks, as if there was always somewhere else he'd rather be, or perhaps it's the overly intense look in those same eyes when he discusses those things he's passionate about. In any case, his strong jaw, full lips, and aquiline nose do make him stand out in a crowd.
He's dressed casually, in a simple grey sweater with a tweed vest over it, giving him a somewhat bookish look. The sleeves of the sweater are pulled up, exposing his hands and forearms. His left hand is bare, and slightly callused, as if he works often with his hands, though his fingers are long and nimble. His right hand, however, has a tight black leather glove on it, the movements of that hand seeming stiffer, more robotic. Long gray slacks cover his legs and shiny black shoes his feet.
Fae Desc Edit
Golden-blonde hair frames the features of this stunningly handsome sidhe, his frame managing to be tall and slim, yet solid and broad-shouldered at the same time. His almost metallic gold locks are carefully braided back to keep them out of his face, in intricate and elaborate knots and geometric patterns. Eyes that are an electric blue color, almost seeming to spark in low light, watch the world around him with an engineer's interest, seeming to mentally dissasemble and reassemble everything he sees. An aquiline nose brings character to his classically attractive features, and full lips are often serious or pursed in thought, often only smiling in pride or appreciation at some clever mechanism or cunning piece of craftsmanship.
He is dressed in an elaborate victorian style, A mix of modern and classic, practical and whimsical. A knee-lenght black coat with a stiff collar and many, many pockets covers most of his 6 and a half foot frame, many of the pockets bulging with small devices: reading glasses, jeweled lenses, an assorted collection of nuts, bolts, and screws, and small workaday tools. The sleeves are pulled up, leaving his forearms bare, and held up with an elaborate set of criss-crossing leather straps and ornate buckles. His bearing is regal and controlled, though his hands show a life more devoted to work and craft than to the vagaries of rulership. His left hand is slightly callused, but strong and nimble-fingered, but it's his right hand that draws the most attention, as, instead of a simple hand, in its place is a complicated and beautiful piece of machinery. Clockwork gears and intricate, delicate cogs, pistons, and levers tick and tock beneath the elaborately engraved metal skin of an artificial hand. Each finger and joint is carefully fitted, and the hand moves with a simple precision and delicate, precise movements, as mobile and useful as a normal hand would be, though it does make small whirring and clicking sounds as it moves.
Over his chest, a black vest has the golden, red and black crest of House Dougal, intricately crafted out of gleaming gold, brilliant ruby, and midnight black obsidian pinned above his heart. A simple white long sleeved shirt buttons up under that, kept immaculately clean. His long legs are covered by gleaming and well-oiled leather, with perfectly shined steel plates sown into the front of his thighs. Thick and practical leather boots cover his feet, the toes encased in steel as well, and an intricate pattern of leather straps and buckles holding them in place. Around his neck hangs a pair of protective goggles, the lenses offering slight amplification. At his waist, a singular blade hangs, the design on it unique enough to draw the eye and the imagination. The blade is hidden inside the well-opiled scabbard, etched outside with clockwork designs, but the hilt is visible, and strange. Looking more like a series of exposed gears, bolts, and screws, it's difficult to imagine how one would grip such a weapon. 
Stuff and talky things.
- Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
- Social: Charisma 3, Manipulation 2, Appearance 3 (5 in Fae mien)
- Mental: Perception 4, Intelligence 4, Wits 2
- Talents: Vigilance 2, Dodge 2, Sensitivity 2
- Skills: Etiquette 2, Melee (Swords, Knives) 3, Crafts (Chimera, Clockwork, Jewelry) 4, Leadership 1, Research 1, Survival 1, Marksmanship (Crossbows) 2
- Knowledges: Computer 2, Science (Engineering) 3, Lore (Gremayre, Dreaming) 3, Occult 1
- Arts: Chronos 3
- Realms: Fae 3, Prop 3
- Banality: 0/3
- Glamour: 4/4
- Backgrounds: Resources 3, Title 2, Chimerical Equipment (Sword - Antikythera) 3
- Willpower: 4/4
- Merits: None
- Flaws: Obsession <2F>, One Hand <House Dougal Flaw, no points>
Freebies Spent: 23 available after Flaws. 5 spent to raise Dex to 3. 2 spent to raise Crafts to 4. 4 spent to raise WP to 4. 1 spent to raise Title to 2. 2 spent to raise Sensitivity to 2. 3 spent to raise Fae Realm to 3. 6 remaining.
List the points spent on merits, flaws, and other additions to the base sheet here.
Expertises & Specialties Edit
See House Rules for rules on Specialties and Expertises.
Merits & Flaws Edit
Explain all your merits and flaws here, should they need a more in-depth explanation.
Explain all your backgrounds here, should they need a more in-depth explanation.
Uriel's birth was a complicated and tragic affair. Born the sole son and heir to Johnathan Roberts, biotech entrepeneur and millionaire, and Jessicah Roberts, who had always been a beautiful, frail young woman, and for whom the act of giving birth to her son ended up being her last. Despite the best medical care his father could afford, only baby Uriel left the delivery room alive. Raised by a distant father who never quite got over the loss of his young wife, Uriel could easily have turned out to be some out of control, wild, rebellious child. Instead, he slowly grew into a quiet, studious, frighteningly smart young boy, who's seemingly endless academic victories in school never served to pull his father any closer.
Still, young Uriel persevered, his intelligence and dedication helping him skip several grades, and making him one of the youngest students ever accepted for entrance into the Engineering program at Cornell University, at age 16. Uriel excelled in his classes there as well, showing a clear aptitude for mechanical design and engineering, and soon becoming good friends with one of his teachers, an irascible man called Edwin Jones, who taught both Mechanical and Chemical Engineering courses. The teacher seemed to recognize some special potential in the young man, and often gave him additional assignments that went far beyond the basic homework given to other students. Uriel thrived under the pressure, however, often impressing both his teacher and fellow students with his inventive, practical, yet oddly whimsical designs.
It was during his third year at college, top of his class and winner of several design and local engineering contests, that things began to change. Strange dreams began to haunt his sleep, and his designs became wilder and more improbable as he was often taken up with odd flights of fancy, daydreaming in class, even losing chunks of time on occasion. His friends suggested he may be overworked, which Uriel dealt with the way he dealt with everything: by pouring himself even further into his work. It was nearing March, and the yearly tradition of Dragon Day was approaching. Symbolizing the rivalry between the schools of Architecture and Engineering, each year the Dragon Day celebration is a little wilder. The Architecture students design and build a massive dragon, and then parade it around the campus, with the intention of burning the dragon once they reach the main Quad. The Engineering students, for their part, do everything in their power short of murder to stop this from happening, designing devices to launch attacks at the dragon and try to make it collapse before it reaches the main Quad.
For the past 2 years, the dragon had survived everything the Engineers had thrown at it, and the Architects were starting to get a little smug. Uriel decided that enough was enough. He poured the frustration over his lack of sleep and distracting visions into designing a weapon to take out the dragon once and for all: a powerful and elaborate trebuchet designed to launch a very special payload at the dragon: A hand-made clockwork device that would begin to spin the moment it impacted the dragon, hopefully drilling itself deep into the wood before trigering several internal compartments filled with caustic chemicals to mix together, before popping, and spraying the whole dragon with the chemical mix. If his calculations were correct (and they always had been before), the chemicals should quickly seep into all exposed wood, weakening it enough that the dragon would collapse under it's own weight within minutes. He threw himself into the project, even managing (with Professor Jones' help) to take time off from his classes to work on his invention.
Finally, Dragon Day came, and Uriel directed the other engineering students to bring the massive wooden structure to the top of a hill, where he knew he'd have a clear shot at the passing dragon. He'd barely slept the night before, tormented by strange visions and an odd sense of unreality, of time moving faster, then slower. He shook his head to try and clear the cobwebs, and rechecked his calculations. It should work. It *would* work. He narrowed his eyes and saw the dragon turning the corner towards the stretch of road leading into the Quad. Arhcitecture students dressed in bright costumes danced and laughed around the gigantic beast.. was it really supposed to be so big, so *real*? Uriel blinked his eyes. No, it was just a wooden dragon, a flimsy thing that his perfect weapon would destroy in one fell swoop, making all those sleepless nights worthwhile. Another blink. That dragon was *huge*, and some of the Achitecture students seemed to be brighter than ever, with incredibly elaborate and lifelike costumes that made them appear to be elves, or gigantic trolls, or woodland satyrs and nymphs. And that *dragon*... it was massive! Massive and very, very real. Uriel stepped back, suddenly consumed with fright. He didn't know what to do, all he knew was that beast was *real*, and it was coming for him. For *him*. In his panic, he bumped into the trebuchet, just as the other students finished bringing it into place. He spun around, reaching for the release mechanism. "Fire, fire, it's coming for us, fire dammit!", he yelled, as he pulled at the release lever with his left hand... and lost his right hand forever as the mechanism sprung to life and crushed it between the snapping timbers. Bleeding heavily and delirious from pain, the last thing Uriel saw was the concerned face of his teacher, Proffessor Jones, with bright red cheeks, pointed ears, beady eyes, and shapr little teeth, before he passed out.
Uriel's bomb had veered widly due to the random firing, and it was only through quick thinking by a nearby troll that the device was kept from hitting some innocent passerby. Proffessor Jones, a nocker, adopted the newly Chrysalized sidhe as his ward, becoming Uriel's Mentor and taking him to his workshop to teach him how to be the kind of engineer that mortals could only dream of. Uriel's despair at the loss of his hand, not to mention his panic at the strange illogical world he was a part of, almost drove him to Bedlam, but the visions were, oddly enough, what kept him sane. As he tossed and turned in fevered dreams, he would often awake with visions of strange, otherwordly designs, devices that could never have been made in the mortal lands. The visions tormented him, but they would also not let him give up. He had to know: Could he make these things? The desire to know was greater than his despair, and so he slowly recovered. Under the nocker's guidance he was introduced to Court, learning what he was, his sidhe heritage, and his House, House Dougal. Jones offered the sidhe an apprenticeship, and a mechanical hand he'd designed to replace the one he lost, and Uriel took both eagerly, immersing himself into the new world of chimerical crafting with the same boundless energy and attention to detail that he had given all his other subjects in school. Though his grades did suffer over the next year as he learned slowly to balance his new fae life with the demands of an Ivy League college, he did graduate, earning his B.S. in Engineering from the prestigious University.
Shortly before graduation, Uriel was finally Sained on the year's anniversary of his Chrysalis, and as his True Name was revealed: Elassar. Now officially a part of the local Ithaca Court, and a Squire to the local Baron, he was both flattered and proud to be declared a Journeyman Craftsman by his Mentor on that day as well. Uriel had been a particularly apt student, taking to his lessons with gusto, becoming proficient at leatherworking, blacksmithing, carpentry, and even jewelcutting. His engineering background also allowed him to grasp the basics of chimerical mechanics, and he was more than ready for his next lessons. Not only did he learn the craft of the Nockers as well as any Sidhe could, but he gave them his own twist: his lifelong obsession with his work and with the delicate intricacies of clockwork and other timekeeping pieces manifested in a natural skill with the Art of Chronos, and the strange manipulations of Time that it allowed, an Art innate to the strange otherworldy nature of the Sidhe.
This came at a cost, however. Long hours locked away with his Mentor in the workshop meant little time for socializing with the other sidhe, making him completely unimportant to the local power structure, not to mention his withdrawal from his mortal ties and family. Still, Uriel didn't seem to mind the loss, as he became obsessed with the workshop and creating, anything to keep his mind focused in trying to hunt down the visions that often seemed close to overwhelming him. His main focus this time was the mechanical hand he had been given as a gift. Using everything he learned, he began to at first improve it, increasing mobility, strength, and sensitivity, and, eventually, created his own from scratch, a deeply personal piece that moved as smoothly as a real hand.
It was not long after his second apprenticeship with his Mentor was drawing to a close, however, that everything truly went to hell. A group of Dauntain hunters had been watching the freehold where Uriel and his mentor worked, and one day, in the dead of night, they attacked, slaughtering some of the guards and fighting their way deep into the hold, intent on slaughtering all fae they could find with Cold Iron, and then snuffing out the balefire there for good. One of Jones' alarms was tripped early on, rallying the freehold's defenders, who fought bravely to try and keep the savage Dauntain at bay. Uriel and Jones fought side by side with the guards to defend their freehold, using every trick at their disposal and the materials in the workshop to improvise weaponry and defenses. The guards managed to take down the first two Dauntain, but the third one, while severly wounded, managed to break through to the workshop. Jones used his considerable skills with the Arts to finally knock the Dauntain unconscious. It seemed they had won the battle, but as Jones turned to congratulate Uriel on a job well done, a Cold Iron knife pierced the Nocker's heart. The unconscious Dauntain wasn't as unconscious as he seemed. Filled with rage over the loss of his best friend and long-time Mentor, Uriel fought the wounded Dauntain like a madman, using everything in the workshop as a potential weapon. Screws and nails were improvised caltrops to keep the monster from advancing too easily, and blacksmithing tools found new lives as thrown weapons. Despite this, Uriel was no match for the Dauntain. It was only through sheer luck that he managed to trap the Dauntain within one of Jones' more fanciful inventions, rendering the Dauntain immobile until the local Duke's troops arrived to dispatch the monster and treat Uriel for the heavy wounds he recieved.
Uriel's bravery in the face of his Mentor's murder was recognized by the nobility, and, despite his lack of influence at the Court, Uriel was offered Knighthood in honor of his bravery against the Dauntain. Uriel accepted the post gratefully, but after his Mentor's death, he knew he couldn't continue running the local workshop alone. Soon after his ascencion to Knighthood, Uriel packed his tools and left, traveling now from Court to Court, offering his services as a crafter and mechanic to whoever needs it and even making a slightly decent living on dross, eanring some minor following for the quality of his work, as he looks for a new home, and chases the visions that haunt him to this day.
It was several months into his travels, that he stopped by a small, boggan-run Inn that would change his life again. Established in the Near Dreaming, the Inn was the perfect place, it seemed, for him to stay a while, uninterrupted, while he worked on a commision he'd received from the local Duke of the lands. Little did he know the chaos that awaited him, for the boggan that ran the inn had two adopted daughters, each lovely in their own way.. and each smitten with the handsome Sidhe, much to Uriel's surprise and initial annoyance. The first sister, a satyr girl, Cassidy, saw Uriel as her chance to finally escape the rural life she had grown up in, the Noble Prince that would take her to the high Faerie Courts she had dreamt of all her life.. the other, a quiet but pretty pooka cow girl with sad eyes but a beautiful smile, seemed to admire Uriel from afar. The two sisters vied for Uriel's affections, and after much confusion and heartache, Uriel found himself drawn to Emmalina, and returning the girl's affections, much to Cassidy's dismay and anger. Determined to steal the Sidhe away from her sister, Cassidy set out to seduce him, but her plans were cut short when, while Uriel was locked in his room, cantrips and inventions in place to keep Cass from trying to sneak into his room at night, the Inn was attacked by a roving band of slavers, mostly redcaps and ogres with a couple of satyrs thrown in. They killed the girl's adoptive mother, a boggan, and many of the guests, and kidnapped Emma and Cass as well as several others. Though the girls put up a good fight, they were finally subdued, with one of Cass' horns broken and Emma beaten unconscious. When Uriel exited his room and saw what had happened, he was overcome with anger and grief, thinking he could have helped save those slain and kept the sisters from being taken.. but he did not simply sit by and mourn. Going back into his room, the Dougal Sidhe gathered all his weapons and most fearsome inventions, bombs and chemicals, blades and arrows, traps of flame and acid, and he set out after the group of slavers. Coming upon them in a nearby forest, the sight that confronted him was of their leader, a massive troll, preparing to rape his beloved Emmalina. At that sight, the Sidhe's gaze grew red and soaked in blood, and the Dragon's Ire was upon him. Stepping forward with all the beauty and awe of the Sidhe at his command, he called upon cantrips and martial skill both, deploying his inventions and his blade with equal, deadly efficiency. It was over in minutes, and not a single slaver was spared. <mtc>
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