@MarsAdept my character concept for approval!
Name: Jaden
Alias: The False Prophet
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Magical Specialty: Illusion Magic
Primary Color: Blue
Secondary/Tertiary colors: N/A
Preferred Summons: Phantasms, Figments
Favorite mechanic/keyword: Hexproof
Home plane: Innistrad
Personality: Relatively self centered and prone to arrogance, Jaden truely is just obsessed with his work. Almost always you can find him muttering over spell theories even when roaming the world. Anything that doesn't fall within scope of that tends to get pushed aside although he is always willing to step off this plane to play with more theories and ideas than he can legally on Ravinca.
Factions:
Kydele, Oracle of Kruphix
Izzet League
Patron of the Mourning Mirrodin Establishment
Trinkets/Inventory: Blue mana crystal woven into a complex design on his shirt over his heart, spell book, a cloak, a tarot deck, water skon, bowl.
Theme song: TBA
Alias: The False Prophet
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Magical Specialty: Illusion Magic
Primary Color: Blue
Secondary/Tertiary colors: N/A
Preferred Summons: Phantasms, Figments
Favorite mechanic/keyword: Hexproof
Home plane: Innistrad
It was horrible when we first discovered the wards failing. Werewolves tore through villages like the wind through grass, vampires descended like starving rats, horrors rose from the grave and the beyond to stalk our nighttime streets, and demons brazenly strolled though our front lawns. Death and the macabre became common place and even terror lost its edge. The Church struggled valiantly against the waves but it was hard. They gained more ground than they lost and we slowly succumbed to dispair.
Well, most did. I on the other hand had a cushy spot in a rather well fortified mages school on the coast. Some would think demons would love the place but the arcane fortifications made even angels shudder. It was there that I toiled quietly, learning the art of illusions mostly for my own amusment. After all, what fun is magic without the power to mess with people's perception. That and really just saying no. Blue mana loved to tell people no. Really it's funny, how we spend all this time studying and studying the complexities of magic until we stumble upon one simple technique: just say no. Anyways, that's another time.
We were contracted by the Church to provide succor to the common folk. Can't win a war without a base with morale after all. People meandered about creating amusment and fun and I tried but never really connected. I would conjure phantasms and figments of Heros long past, weave stories and images of epic battles but the beauty was lost on them. I was quietly asked to change my subject or return to the school. And I, pride stinging, chose the latter. I left, a two man escort from the church guarding me. Lucky thing too cause a boom, a shriek, and a demon charged us.
We barely survived. Only thanks to my fast thinking did we make it. It took several swipes as the gaurds, easily overwhelming them. I assumed they died when they hit the ground. But I reached for the first creature in my mind and suddenly an angel exploded in front of me. Ofncourse, it was only an illusion but an illusion carries as much weight as reality when the viewer believes it. And so the demon did. It fought the demon to the death and gave the apparently not so dead escort time to recover enough to spear the damned thing from behind. From that point forward, the Church formally requested my services, although the whispered title "The False Prophet" didn't go unheard. Guess some people didn't particularly enjoy fake angels dancing around, returning hope to the hopeless.
Then, Avacyn herself returned. I decided life on the front lines was far too exciting and slipped back to the school, taking a position as an instructor and researcher. I focused my studies on solidifying illusion magic in the face of other mana fluxes, a drawback I had failed to fully overcome. It was quiet for a few years and then a real angel appeared on our doorstep. Shredded our defenses, our wards, and went absolutely nuts looking for The False Prophet. Apparently angels don't appreciate it when you use their name without consent.
It was a bloodbath. I finally killed the creature with its own likeness. Amusing it it wasn't for the pained screams of my students that had managed to avoid death. My head spun. Everything went black, then blue, then back to black. I remember vomiting repeatedly as I stumbled in the darkness before finally I fell, no longer conscious.
When I awoke, the first thing I saw was a temple. Not one that I had ever seen but it had all the markings of it. An older man, reading tomhimself, looked up as I awoke. He introduced himself and helped me up. Apparently I was in a place called Theros at the Temple of Kruphix. The words coming from his mouth, I understood them but they help no meaning. Theros, Kruphix. Where in Inistrad could they be.
In the end, three years past before I discovered the secret to plainswalking. Once I had, and properly thanked the Oracle Kydele and the God Kruphix, I traveled. My next destination was a place known as the City of Guilds. I allied with a few members of the Izzet League on order to continue my research into illusion magics and it's stability. I discovered this little tavern, the Mourning Mirrodin Tavern, as an haven to others like myself. I like to drop in there and, if anyone presents interesting walks so to speak, I don't hesitate to take a research expidition. After all if I can't test our practices outside the lab, how will we know they work?
Well, most did. I on the other hand had a cushy spot in a rather well fortified mages school on the coast. Some would think demons would love the place but the arcane fortifications made even angels shudder. It was there that I toiled quietly, learning the art of illusions mostly for my own amusment. After all, what fun is magic without the power to mess with people's perception. That and really just saying no. Blue mana loved to tell people no. Really it's funny, how we spend all this time studying and studying the complexities of magic until we stumble upon one simple technique: just say no. Anyways, that's another time.
We were contracted by the Church to provide succor to the common folk. Can't win a war without a base with morale after all. People meandered about creating amusment and fun and I tried but never really connected. I would conjure phantasms and figments of Heros long past, weave stories and images of epic battles but the beauty was lost on them. I was quietly asked to change my subject or return to the school. And I, pride stinging, chose the latter. I left, a two man escort from the church guarding me. Lucky thing too cause a boom, a shriek, and a demon charged us.
We barely survived. Only thanks to my fast thinking did we make it. It took several swipes as the gaurds, easily overwhelming them. I assumed they died when they hit the ground. But I reached for the first creature in my mind and suddenly an angel exploded in front of me. Ofncourse, it was only an illusion but an illusion carries as much weight as reality when the viewer believes it. And so the demon did. It fought the demon to the death and gave the apparently not so dead escort time to recover enough to spear the damned thing from behind. From that point forward, the Church formally requested my services, although the whispered title "The False Prophet" didn't go unheard. Guess some people didn't particularly enjoy fake angels dancing around, returning hope to the hopeless.
Then, Avacyn herself returned. I decided life on the front lines was far too exciting and slipped back to the school, taking a position as an instructor and researcher. I focused my studies on solidifying illusion magic in the face of other mana fluxes, a drawback I had failed to fully overcome. It was quiet for a few years and then a real angel appeared on our doorstep. Shredded our defenses, our wards, and went absolutely nuts looking for The False Prophet. Apparently angels don't appreciate it when you use their name without consent.
It was a bloodbath. I finally killed the creature with its own likeness. Amusing it it wasn't for the pained screams of my students that had managed to avoid death. My head spun. Everything went black, then blue, then back to black. I remember vomiting repeatedly as I stumbled in the darkness before finally I fell, no longer conscious.
When I awoke, the first thing I saw was a temple. Not one that I had ever seen but it had all the markings of it. An older man, reading tomhimself, looked up as I awoke. He introduced himself and helped me up. Apparently I was in a place called Theros at the Temple of Kruphix. The words coming from his mouth, I understood them but they help no meaning. Theros, Kruphix. Where in Inistrad could they be.
In the end, three years past before I discovered the secret to plainswalking. Once I had, and properly thanked the Oracle Kydele and the God Kruphix, I traveled. My next destination was a place known as the City of Guilds. I allied with a few members of the Izzet League on order to continue my research into illusion magics and it's stability. I discovered this little tavern, the Mourning Mirrodin Tavern, as an haven to others like myself. I like to drop in there and, if anyone presents interesting walks so to speak, I don't hesitate to take a research expidition. After all if I can't test our practices outside the lab, how will we know they work?
Personality: Relatively self centered and prone to arrogance, Jaden truely is just obsessed with his work. Almost always you can find him muttering over spell theories even when roaming the world. Anything that doesn't fall within scope of that tends to get pushed aside although he is always willing to step off this plane to play with more theories and ideas than he can legally on Ravinca.
Factions:
Kydele, Oracle of Kruphix
Izzet League
Patron of the Mourning Mirrodin Establishment
Trinkets/Inventory: Blue mana crystal woven into a complex design on his shirt over his heart, spell book, a cloak, a tarot deck, water skon, bowl.
Theme song: TBA
