[hider=The Fallen Alchemist]
[center][h3][b]𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭[/b][/h3]

[hider=The Fallen Alchemist][img]https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/069/028/591/large/amelia-poltoracka-mx-scientist-bw.jpg?1699197768[/img][/hider]

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[b]Age of Death:[/b] — 29  
[b]Gender:[/b] — Male  
[b]Race:[/b] — Forsaken Revenant (Once Human, now something... else)  
[b]Psychology:[/b] — A mind frayed between genius and madness. Once an ambitious alchemist devoted to unlocking the secrets of transmutation, his obsession led him down a path of irreversible ruin. Now, in this new world, he struggles against the echoes of his past failures, torn between seeking redemption and indulging in the cold logic of experimentation. He is meticulous, his mind a labyrinth of equations and forgotten rituals, yet plagued by intrusive visions of those he destroyed. His hands tremble when idle, as if still mixing the alchemical catalysts of his past sins.  

[hr]  
[center][h3]⑇⑉ What You Remember ⑉⑈[/h3][/center]  

     [b]The Whispering Cauldron[/b]  
The fumes were intoxicating, swirling in iridescent hues above the village square. Their bodies had contorted first—limbs snapping, skin peeling as their flesh rebelled against them. Their screams rang through the night, but you did not hear them. You were lost in the alchemy, in the equations scrawled across your mind. Perfection was within reach, you were certain. But then, silence. When you looked up, your people were not people anymore—only things, grotesque beings bound by pulsing sinew and raw agony.  

⑴Alchemical Knowledge —Despite the circumstances that led him to this place it would seem that his knowledge of alchemy followed him. He still retains the basic knowledge of what once consumed the life he left behind. 
⑵ Cold Rationality—A mind that prioritizes logic above morality, allowing you to make the necessary choices where others may falter.  

[hr]  
[center][h3]⑇⑉ What You Don’t ⑉⑈[/h3][/center]  

     [b]The Alchemist’s Folly[/b]  
You should have died. You welcomed death. The blaze that consumed your village should have taken you, too. But something—someone—pulled you free. You do not recall their face, only the feeling of weightlessness, the wrenching sensation of being ripped from the ruin of your own making. The sky was wrong when you awoke. The air was thick with something unnatural. You were no longer in your world.  

A mark on your forearm appeared when you awoke, its blackened veins pulsing with something deep, something alien. It reminds you that you do not belong here, that something beyond comprehension has marked you for its own purpose. But you do not remember why. Not yet.
[Tvegxb•]
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