Solomon "Bone-White" Skrivven's page

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The Legacy of Solomon Skivven
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Appearance
Solomon stands only about 4 feet tall, the height of a tall child, though the arch of his back makes him often appear shorter. Ordinarily he would drape himself in billowing, hooded clothing to hide his appearance; but since his capture he is left completely naked (ratfolk don't wear undergarments afterall).

His fur is completely white, betraying his albino genetic tradition. One eye is red as would be expected, but the other is completely black. The ears that poke from his bleached fur, his clawed hands and slender tail, as well as the tip of his nose are dark grey. He has long, yellowed teeth and spindly arms that almost brush the floor when he stands relaxed. On the left one there is a vicious, infected brand of the letter "F"--marking him as "Forsaken", which is hardly a novel experience.

Background
There is a small population of Ratfolk that reside within the sewers and underground of Talingarde. They are an extremely communal society that collect in warrens with several nooks and crannies in which they can store their hoards of eclectic contraband or flee from danger. They are uncommon sights among the populace, and wild folklore surrounds them. So while officially they are tolerated, unofficially they are not--they are unattractive and absolutely filthy.

But they have their superstitions as well--such as that of the Skivven. A Skivven is a rat who has been marked by the otherworld, no longer wholly a part of the society but with a foot in both worlds. Thus he is a danger to himself, but mostly to all of those around him as the duality of mind and allegiance drives them insane. Besides, one who is not fully part of the community, must not be allowed to be part of it at all. Thus, on the rare occasion that a Skivven appears, he is branded with the name and excluded from all wardens.

A Skivven is commonly recognized when the mark becomes manifest, shifting the color of one of the vermin's eyes.

Solomon "Bone-White", named for his albinism, was trained as a tinkerer. But shortly after he began his training was when a minion of Asmodeus struck a deal with the youngling. The power to manipulate and tinker with the very forces of creation itself, the power of alchemy, in exchange for reverence. And reverence seems like such a paltry thing to trade, as ratfolk culture is hardly dogmatic about religious practices. But what Asmodeus knew, and Solomon did not, was that reverence was all that would be needed to set the youngling apart. And one who is not fully submitted to the society may not be part of any of it.

His right eye grew darker over the next three days, until it was so black that one could easily see their own reflection in it. The Skivven was ejected from the sewers and society of the others, which was a pain unlike he had ever felt before--the loss of community. But in truth, in spite of the pain he never resented the decision he made. He no longer needed the community. He had alchemy.

Without permission to remain underground any longer, Solomon was forced to live above. Naturally, cities would be the (relatively) easiest places to do so, as the wilderness and deserts are unforgiving for one who was not bred for their particular struggles; but to survive in the cities was almost impossible as ratfolk.

Solomon knew a handful of formulae, wonderful extracts and transmutations whispered by corpses he gathered and the small vermin that attracts. One of which helped him blend into the throngs of humanity, unassuming save for his raspy voice and the trail of filth that followed him. Disguise Self Extract

It was a rough disguise at first, as he had no idea how genuine humans looked or acted. But over time the illusion grew more passable, and eventually became so unassuming that he was able to pass through society without really being recollected at all, as if the form was so unremarkable that most forgot him the moment he passed out of view. And one can get into a lot of trouble if they wish, when one can go unnoticed.

He lived on the streets, which was no inconvenience for him at all, though he had to find locations all over the city where he could hide his experiments and tools (at least those that weren't kept with him at all times). And evenings, when those who needed light would slip into their hovels and beds, Solomon would scurry down to the mausoleums and crypts. The whispers he had heard initially had slowed by this point, forcing him to trudge the slow path of progress alone. He found that organic components had the greatest effect on his mixtures, and that the more recently a corpse had stopped living the better the reaction would be. He also was surprised to find how many fascinating objects humans chose to bury the important ones with.

For almost a year he was able to do this unimpeded before he was caught. He had been "discovered" in the act before, but people are often lenient with what looks like a young boy without the maturity or knowledge to understand the gravity of his actions. But this time they found him tasting one of the corpses, which is much harder to dismiss.

He took flight, astonishing his pursuers who were prepared to face a child but not expecting the prowess they encountered. But there are few true exits in a mausoleum, and he was caught quickly afterward. His illusion dropped only a minute after his capture as well, which was unsettling to most but explained quite a bit more to those who had a hand in his apprehension.

He would still be beheaded, but perhaps a private execution would be more prudent. No one wants the rumors of ratmen to start again. And the guard certainly didn't want to give them proof.

Personality
Solomon is internally focused in personality, always thinking, always strategizing, but rarely involved in the same conversation and circumstances as everyone else. The split agendas in his mind: the unquenchable curiosity that led him to make his pact, as well as the demonic presence that attempts to focus it are constantly vying for priority. So in short, he's addled... but brilliantly so. And when inspiration strikes he's like a rat possessed.

Innovation is his treasure. Though he hoards anything and everything that intrigues or stimulates him, nothing is above being used for the sake of discovery. He understands the rules of human society now, and has an instinctual submission to a group that shares a common cause--especially one that might further his own agenda.

And since his capture, the whispers have begun again.

"By gnawing through a dike, even a rat may drown a nation." ~ Edmund Burke

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