About Augustus OctavianusDescription:
When he peers around, it's with obvious intelligence and a curiosity, though there's an 'air' about him that suggests he's not some mere teenager, his charisma is certainly up there among the greats. When he speaks, the tone of his voice belies his age, marking him as 'somebody'. Thankfully too, some level of diplomatic skills or worldly awareness comes with his social graces. He does not, however, seem arrogant or haughty, but more of a 'servant' in his manner-- a polite one. History
Effectively, the second born of his family, Augustus followed in the wake of an older sister who'd gone off to join the Vanguard, as was her birth's purpose, as a warrior sage. He, himself, however, showed very little aptitude for growing up potent and strong, instead, displaying quite a lot of the talents that lend towards thinking; art, languages, and writing. These came naturally, so as normal, he was guided and directed into the scribe role for the Vanguard, helping the rulers of Nethys, with their studies, traveling and assorted other tasks to document magic and the like. It wasn't too terribly long after his tenth birthday, that Augustus proved his worth and was initiated formally into the ranks of the Vanguard as a Scribe, being taught of the use of magic, and it's principle fundamentals, specifically with magical items which frequented their efforts and the capital's residents. While not an expert by any means, he did appear to have the knack of it, indicating that there might be a future for him, once he was officially deemed worthy by someone of renown. Slaves with magic, not too common, yet those few in the Vanguard that did, higher esteem and life styles than other slaves of the Empire. The following years, his Father retired from Warrior status to that of trainer of new ranks, while his Sister stepped up to Patrol Captain, Augustus became a Scribe Scholar with an emphasis on the Sculpting works. Many people would come for his hand at shaping clay and the like, and occasionally, with the proper magical device, he had the ability to actually twist wood and metals for the Archmages that requested this of him. He was learning quite a bit, never really showing much passion or desire to do beyond what he was ordered or requested, his streak for freedom and lack of discipline surely preventing him from any focus in life, yet. However-- one day, that of his birthday marking sixteen years, after a brief celebration in the morning with his immediate family, minus Mallica, his sister off on patrol, Augustus was requested to come help with a major meeting of some of the Archmages, to scribe what was discussed. A bit of sweet bread stuffed in his mouth, hugs and kisses, and he was off. Some grueling hours later, the sun had set by this time, all gone from the meeting room, Augustus was seated near the sprawling massive stained windows, when he blacked out. Waking up after the fact, he pushed off various bits of rubble and assorted other construction materials, much to the surprise of people standing about looking on in horror. The room he'd been in was destroyed, as if a meteorite had fallen through the roof into the place, breaking literally everything, yet leaving him in perfect condition, save for tattered clothing and the like. Seeing as no one 'important' got hurt, it was rather remarkable that he even was noticed. Suffice to say, he staggered on home, more shocked than anything else, cradling one of the books from the building on his way. The following few days after that, while he re cooperated, there were many black outs. For the most part, his Father did what any warrior would do, sent for a Cleric, got some heals, checked up on wounds, all was find. If it were anything, the Cleric said, it was in his mind or soul. Time would sort it out. Blackouts ensued, and by the time they finished, seven days later, in a mixture of dreams, sleep walking or dazed activities, Augustus had in his possession, a few key new items. One, the making of what he can only deduce was a wizard's book-- filled with pages of intricate runes, symbols and other 'writing' that looked more shaped of melted metal than mere ink. A sculpting of words, or formula, really-- Arcane spells which made sense to him when he read the pages, and he knew he could store ready in his mind. Some rather simple yet, platinum master worked ring, to which he felt a kinship that yearned never to be severed, and ...memories. Odd memories that made no sense to him, buried far and beneath his consciousness, out of reach, the swirl of movement at the corner of his gaze, or the flitter of a shadow before the maw of an alley, present, yet out of reach. He wasn't sure what to make of all this, yet, among all the 'new' he also realized, he could not share this information with anyone-- who would believe him, after all? And more importantly, he knew he had to leave ... intellectually speaking, and due to some new found, yearning, he had to go. Since most of the members of the Archmage's did not truly care about his well being, they practically ignored the results of his situation, more fascinated with the resulting damage and what not, overlooking his involvement-- after all, why would a slave be relevant? With that behind him, along with the Capital Nethys, Augustus headed off, with his large book, clothing and gear prepared by his Father, meals and rations prepared by his Mother, and some advice from his Sister, all wishing him the best, yet while leaving, he realized, something undefined was luring him away-- not to mention the possibility of interrogation and torture, if he were to speak up, which he hadn't even with his own kin. Augustus Octavianus
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Spellbook:
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Metacreativity Disciplines
Level 1 Powers
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