Tiber Macero's page

Tiber’s early years were in the notionally free city of Restov, the seventh son of wool merchants. A tail end surprise of a child, unplanned and unlooked for, Tiber had ample love from a father who enjoyed raising children but little interest from a mother who had no need for another son at “Macero and Sons”. When he demonstrated a knack for mystic pursuits at the age of ten, he was packed off to study under a traveling Wizard-Sage named Onnekas.

They got all over the greater Brevoy region, poking around at ruins and helping here and there where a wizard-for-hire was needed. Tiber, for his part, mostly kept notes and occasionally ran errands that his mentor was too busy to perform. What Tiber really spent his time doing was reading. Between the Wizard-Sage’s own traveling library and the tomes they picked up as they traveled, the youngest Macero immersed himself in a universe of facts and figures. Some of it was certain to never come up (that there was an appendix in a serious treatise on outdoorsmanship on the topic of how many voles one can fit into a ten pound sack nearly led Tiber to distrust the entire volume) but storing knowledge took up no room in any mundane storehouse.

For the last five years, Tiber and his master have been parked outside of Skywatch, part of the contingent of wizards and wisemen trying to figure out what is going on with that ancient site. With a lack of new material to read, Tiber was growing bored. When the call went out for folks willing and able to explore the Stolen Lands, it spoke to something deep in Tiber. Sure, he’d learned much in his years underneath Onnekas, but imagine the wonders to be found in the uncharted frontier? A frontier that a part of his soul considered to be his, in his blood. A deeper part reminded him that he hadn’t gotten closer to the wildlands than the walls of the city, but he ignored that part. It took some persuasion (alright, a heated argument) with his master to secure his release from his apprenticeship. He kitted himself out for a life of exploration, and off to Restov to find a group headed for the Stolen Lands he went. It was only two miles into the journey that he abandoned the iron pot from his kit, tossing it on the side of the road. Damned thing was *heavy*.

Tiber has eyes that positively glint with curiosity, pale blue, above a mouth that is often pinched into a thin line. Though barely into his twenties his hairline is already in full retreat, and he will likely be bald before he even sees the edge of his thirties, however for the moment what remains is long, lustrous and black. Thin and tall, he gives the impression of an even greater height owing to good posture and the floppy hat that he wears from time to time. The clothing that he currently owns is solid traveling gear in a variety of earth tones, greens and browns.

The youngest of seven sons, Tiber was born to be a team player. He knows that while there might be disagreements, even strife, inside a family, at the end of the day, you hang together. He likes knowing things; secrets, facts, dates, the price of a gallon of milk in Ioboria. He likes to know these things because they make him useful to people who are bigger and stronger than he is. Sometimes, the most important thing to know is what to say to get one of those bigger, stronger people (brothers, traditionally) to pause before starting a fight. Tiber is the sort of man who drums his fingers together as he contemplates what he should do. If he were a villain, he would have a cat that was white. He has a tendency to speak too quickly when he gets excited about something, which is a wide range of topics.

Tiber has no interest in wearing a crown, or standing in front; that only paints a large target on you. He'd rather be someone providing information and advice to a ruler, the Magister or Spymaster, for instance. On the other hand, who holds the purse strings holds the fate of the kingdom, so perhaps the Treasurer would be appropriate?