Name: Phaeron Markuv

Titles or Aliases: The Wandering Spirit
The Faithless

Race: Human ghost

Home Plane: Ravnica

Color: Black/White

Appearance:

As a member of pure Orzhov blood, Phaeron's natural form has some physical deformities. His skin is a dark gray, appearing to be rotting. That's because, well, it is. His face lacks any distinguishing features beyond this under normal circumstances. When he has taken life force to heal himself, he takes on the form of what he would have looked like if it hadn't been for that nasty Orzhov tendency to twist up genetics like a balloon animal in order to achieve longevity. In this form his skin is a dark white Mediterranean, with a short goatee and long hair, black as obsidian. Regardless as to whether or not he is in his healthy form or his true birth form, Phaeron's eyes shimmer golden, and his left ear is pierced with an earring designed to be identical to the Orzhov sigil. When his spirit is separated from his body, it appears to look perfectly identical to how his body currently looks, apart from being translucent with wisps of blue, anyway. Phaeron wears protective leather armor everywhere he goes, along with a hooded cloak. The hem is made of white silk, the main body of the cloak is black, and the symbol of Orzhov is worn proudly emblazoned upon the back.

Background: Our story begins somewhere quaint, quiet, and completely normal without any expectations of greatness... Is what I would say if I wanted to lie. Phaeron was born the first son of Korva, head of the Markuv family and pure blood members of the Orzhov Syndicate. From an early age the family raised and educated Phaeron on how to be a good Orzhov elitist. How the Obzedat ghost council was the supreme law within the guild, about faith, tradition, and profits. He was taught what to shun, such as the evils of charity, falling into debt, independence. All for one for the faithful of Orzhova.

As he grew, Phaeron focused his studies on the other guilds, as a method of knowing the competition. At least, that's what he told his family and his tutors, and it was true... At least at first. The more he studied the methods of the other guilds, the more he became enamored with them. These were nine other governing bodies of the city-plane, all with radically different methods and ideologies, and yet each one was successful in its own way (except for the Gruul, whom Phaeron still has nothing but disdain for). How could the rule of the Obzedat be so absolute when clearly they had nine equals? Guildpact or not, that did not sit well in the mind of Phaeron. And so he took a turn that he would live to regret...

Upon his 17th birthday Phaeron was given a modest sum of money with which he was to invest however he saw fit. The test was to ensure that he could make back his initial investment within one year. He did exactly that. After all, Phaeron was a born and bred pure blood Orzhov. It's what he did with that profit that became an issue. Phaeron began taking profits off the books and using them to provide for the sick and needy, particularly in the slums of the Undercity. His activities were discovered by guild bookkeepers after a few months and while it was not illegal to use his own money in such a way, it was shall we say, highly discouraged. Phaeron lost favor within his family and the guild, and this act of charity inspired others to teach him another economic lesson: cutthroat competition.

Over the course of the next two years other guild members acted against Phaeron's interests. He put up a good fight, called in numerous favors, expanded his businesses, and showed them all that he was of a fantastic business mind, but their combined efforts bled dry his coffers until he eventually had to rely upon his family's wealth once more. Wealth that he couldn't spend however he saw fit. The guild and their church preached unity among the families, sharing their influence and wealth amongst one another, yet for the small crime of charity they turned on him in an instant, and at the order of the ghost council itself. Phaeron lost faith in the church. Not in what it preached, but what it practiced. This made Phaeron desperate.

No longer caring for the consequences, the Markuv heir began to share with the commoners once again, this time from the coffers of the guild itself. Unfortunately he did not think this plan through very well, and was almost instantly caught red handed. For the crimes of stealing from the Obzedat and treason against the Orzhov Syndicate, Phaeron was sentenced to death and 1000 years of indentured servitude, in that order. The council made the necessary preparations to have Phaeron's soul torn from his body and placed under thrall to carry out his sentence. It was during this painful, excruciating process, that something unbelievable happened.

Phaeron's spark ignited.

Half way through the ritual, the young Orzhov heir's planeswalker spark flared to life, and by reflex he found himself transported to another location, another world entirely. One where foxes spoke, men lived in the clouds, and the very land itself came to life. Ever since his first walk interrupted that dreadful ceremony, Phaeron has possessed the magic to separate his spirit from his body at will, a most fortuitous ability.

He has spent the last three years walking to different planes, studying the various cultures, and doing whatever he can to help out. He doesn't consider himself a usurper, but a liberator. The one thing he cannot stand seeing more than any other is the ruling class lording their wealth and power over the suffering of the common man. Such tyrants often find that their very life force has been stolen away, used to heal the body of the Wandering Spirit, just as their money is used to feed the servants they built such wealth from.

Now Phaeron the Faithless has found himself on the plane of Orisfal, hopeful that he can make a difference here. He intends to spread the good word of Orzhova, but unlike the guild he has left, he intends to practice what he preaches.