Tachseid

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Information

Player: Touchseed

Character Full Name: Neil Tachseid

Character In-Game Name: Tachseid

Nickname(s): None apply

Association(s): The Undercity, and loosely with the Horde

Race: Forsaken Human

Class: Mage

Age: 34 at time of death.

Sex: Male (Undead)

Hair: Long, dead, and tied into a knot at the base of the skull. It's greasy and full of bugs.

Eyes: Held in by a sewing needle.

Weight: 155 lbs.

Build: Much of his muscle mass is still attached, but undeath has taken its own subtle tolls. He has a slouched posture and his movements are lethargic and casual.

Height: 5'11"

Appearance

Usual Garments/Armor: Varying pieces of clothing, but it's predominantly of the soft fabric type. He wears a brown noble-man's coat on many occasions and is fond of masks, veils, and hats.

Other: He is a bit insecure about his face.

Personality

Alignment: Neutral Evil

Neil is an opportunist and is pretty selfish. He is very uncomfortable sharing, but enjoys trading and bargaining and in most cases gambling. Neil actually has a pretty stubborn gambling problem that forces him to take chances, and if things look good, take even more of them. Although self serving, he is capable of 'acting' friendly in many cases. Having no need to eat, or sleep, and having no sex drive, Neil views many of the normal processes of life with contempt.

Neil is a very critical person, and the first things he sees are the flaws. He often shares constructive criticism and is very open of it, himself. For all the mental abuse he's willing to dish out, he's also fine with getting back in turn. In fact, the only thing he won't talk about is his face. Neil can't understand why, but he can barely look at himself in the mirror, let alone allow anyone else to see his face.

History

Neil Tachseid, in life, was a pretty normal person. He started up a family, had a steady job, and a few hobbies to burn time with. He was a practiced fisherman with a living-room full of trophies. He took up the reigns of a horse and became a pretty decent rider, even to the point of racing for cash. But Mr.Tachseid had his pride and joy, martial arts. If you got deep enough in his home, you'd find his 'Fighting' room and in it was a shrine dedicated to the art of dueling. Fencing equipment layered the west wall, boxing gloves and a bag at the east. At the south, a rack of battle-staves. Neil loved dueling as much as he loved his wife and baby girl.

Life was good to him, but the war effort reached him and he lived under constant anticipation. He was waiting for a group of Orcs to visit -his- town. He'd show them! At least, that is what he thought. He was so die hard on prepping for an inevitable Orcish invasion that he didn't notice why dinner tasted funny for the last few weeks. Over the course of time he turned his home into a make-shift fort, much to the dismay of his wife. Days, weeks, months passed without a peep of news from the war. It was only a matter of time that Neil would tuck his daughter in to bed, and lay in his own, and never wake up the same again.

The next time Neil would open his eyes and process thought, he'd be in the ramshackle remains of a church. With only a grunt from a cryptkeeper to greet him, Neil set out in his horrifying nightmare. He was armed with only a sack full of runed scrolls, given to him by a Cryptkeeper, possibly on accident.. He left for what the others called the 'Undercity' and took their advice about giving his scrolls to what they called a Mage. The whole process was very mechanical, but eventually Neil gained his mental bearings again. His scrolls sparked some bright idea that they could be used to fling bolts of magic around, and some odd inclination that his face should be covered at all times. He tore a shawl from a forgotten flag, wrapped his head up, and began flexing any magical muscles in private. It has been only a few months since that instance and Neil can only reason that he has somehow traded his life, for magic. It occurs to him that the exchange wasn't his idea, but he can't really argue over it.