Monk of few words and fewer niceties.



Name: ??? (only shares his name with genuine friends)
Title(s): Bleu, Blue One, Sapphire, any sort of play on ‘blue’ or nicknames that others come up with for him
Race: Human
Age: 17
Role: Striker
Class: Centered Breath Monk
Profession: Vagabond (occasional bodyguard, otherwise performs menial tasks when needing money)
Appearance: 17 years old, stands at 5’9". He has shortish raven black hair with an especially blue sheen to it that becomes more apparent in natural lighting, and indigo eyes. When he can, he covers as much of himself as possible: pants are of black, well-worn leather; loose cloth armor inlaid with runic markings; and plain black gloves. He owns a cowl-like scarf that he wraps around his mouth as an impromptu mask, though makes no attempt to hide his eyes, and bears a blue amulet around his neck.


Mentor(s): Devon
Family members: Father and mother, both deceased
Friends: “Chivy” (Chivason, a bard)
Enemies: n/a
Love: n/a
Party tie-in: ?
Party conflict: ?
Religious affiliation: unaffiliated
Organizational affiliations: ?


Motivations: To keep moving forward and not lose his inward momentum; the moment he stops and realizes there isn’t much to do aside from adventuring is the moment he loses his interest in continuing on.
Interests: Educating himself, traveling, training.
Dislikes: Pushy people, anyone who would prey on the weaker.
Prejudices: None immediately noticeable; he’s mentally conditioned himself to have no stance based on appearances.
Point of pride: The manifestation and upkeep of his “mental skin”, the discipline he’s learned through asceticism.
Greatest fear: Abandonment. Just below it is touch and making deep emotional connections.
Moral limits: Attempting to convince someone against their set path. Advising someone of the dangers they may pose to themselves toes the line, but he will not try to change someone’s mind for anything else.
Vice: His self-denial in asceticism has led to lack of self-worth, a martyr complex and determination that everyone else’s opinions are above his; only in times of great danger or knowing that he might be able to take the place of someone else about to become hurt will he break his own code of not interfering in what the other might do. His true “vice” is in becoming easily attached to others, despite abhorrence toward being appreciated as a friend.


Habits: Tends to lick or bite his lips when thinking; keeps his arms crossed; speaks little around unfamiliar people
Hobbies: Reading, or playing some manner of sports. He also likes to collect small baubles to send back to his friend, Chivy.


Known secret: His haphephobia (fear of touch).
Unknown secret: He has the ability to make others more agreeable and trusting toward him depending on how much they have touched him and for how long. Mechanically, this does nothing because of his psionic powers and monk training allowing him to keep a “mental skin” about him at all times. (Said mental skin can be broken through, but any ‘regular’ attacks that would break one of his defenses merely contributes the damage to his mind instead of his body. If knocked down to low enough HP, the ‘your mind makes it real’ clause begins to manifest his would-be injuries on his body.)

Backstory: At nine years old, raiders came to the boy’s small city. With the combined might of their advances magicks and technologies, the city easily fell. The boy was later found in the charred remains of his home, cradled by the still-warm bodies of his parents. He was taken, as with many of the other survivors, to a relatively nearby monk conclave until friends or relatives could be contacted. In great flocks, the survivors fled for new lives. The boy had no relations to take him in, and so he stayed with the monks. Years passed as he embraced the lifestyle and teachings presented to him. Despite his trauma and inability to deal with being touched, he soon learned ways around the setback and focused himself on the honing of such techniques.

When he turned fifteen, the boy—now a teenager—left the other monks in order to travel. Often he would use his training to keep others safe on the roads or within their cities for a nominal fee. Though often reluctant to give his name (or, really, speak at all), tales of the blue-clad monk spread slowly in whispers. He has only been on his journey for a short few years, but has learned much in that time.


Possessions: He is an ascetic. Whatever he doesn’t have on his back isn’t a belonging of his.

How do you know Charles Hurst?: Came to the aid of the man’s caravan several months ago and was hired as bodyguard until it arrived at its destination.


The Gate Keepers Deejay