Description

Physical Description:
A simple black robed priest with matching hair, Melketh Barca has a mug shot next to ‘unimpressive’ in the dictionary. His wiry, tanned body was tough as nails, probably due to the repeated beatings he received after nearly lethal pranks. He carried a simple walking staff (quarterstaff) and a leather backpack with all of his possessions contained within. His lightly wrinkled face has thin lips and beady eyes.

Background:
An outspoken, aggressive proponent of the simple truth…Illusions and Necromancy are the two best schools in all of Magic. With Illusions, one can replicate virtually any other spell imaginable and the enemy’s mind makes it real. With Necromancy, one can steal an opponent’s very soul or take total control of their mind…forever. What could ever be more powerful than that?!

This single minded antisocial nerdy persistence, insistence that his world view was the correct one resulted in his ass getting kicked. Frequently. Repeatedly. Once he managed to cast his first illusions and necromancy (Cause Fear!) that quickly changed and he turned the tables on the Temple’s bullies. He would chase the bullies into imaginary walls, create bridges over rivers where none existed, and similar pranks. The poor bastards were easily overcome by Melketh’s tricky magic.

Now, one would think such behavior (on both sides) would result in some kind of punishment but…this was a Temple dedicated to the Shadow where orphan boys and girls were trained. All actions had consequences and a good beating from a rival peer was all in good fun as long as no one died.

This was the environment in which Melketh grew, studied, and grew into his gifts as a priest of the Shadow. A cruel and aggressive, if honorable, prankster is the path Melketh followed as he mastered divine magic. He would slip into the Temple’s Library whenever his pranks got out of hand. The ‘Librarian’ was really one of the highest ranking priests in the Temple and no one dared cause mischief there. It was during these cowardly retreats, usually after getting his ass kicked and covered in bruises, he would lose himself in the books to the pass the time. He began to crave power over others at this time in his life, controlling others to put a stop to him being the one that was ‘victimized’…even tho, these days, he really did deserve the ass kicking after he dropped a peer in a frozen, ice covered river with a fake bridge.

He left the Temple when it was clear his studies there had reached its limit. He desired a ‘mother cyst’, an impure corruption of his own flesh, but such was frowned upon in this particular Temple. No one wanted to risk being enslaved to a power-mad priest with delusions of grandeur.