EFN_Rothe Character Sheet

The finished product for my character, Rothe. I hope everyone enjoys it! I'm very pleased, but I know what else I can do should I feel the need. Look forwards to his entry comic coming soon!

Name: Rothe Windest

Alias: The Tailor of D'rathr

Age: 20

Height: 6'4"

Weight: 220lbs

Personality/Behaviour: Rothe is a kindhearted man who was scorned horribly in his life. He has a strong distrust of people, but hides it behind a warm veil, often coming off as kind and empathetic, but never allowing himself to grow too trusting. He is tremendously opposed to killing, and will only take a life if he so needs.

Of his own volition, he is reluctant to be near people. He does not go out of his way to avoid contact with others, nor to repel people, but will rarely strike up conversations unless the situation demands it, preferring to be approached. He behaves properly, speaking with a proper dialect and a calm tone, but often trying to keep some distance between him and the other. He hates being surrounded and is visibly unsettled in a crowd, trying to stay at the edges.

He is very giving, and will gladly lend a hand to anyone forthcoming about their needs. He will not give help to those he does not deem kind, however. Being a tailor, he enjoys repairing, weaving, and sewing new articles of clothing, and one of his favorite past times is making outfits or stuffed animals for small children, then making them dance for the young ones. If he sees something he can mend, or a person with a wound he could sew, he will often overcome his shyness and approach them, offering his help.

In a fight, he is always calm. He grunts and shouts as he fights, but unless the fight is broken for it, he will rarely converse during it. Rothe is opposed to fighting period, and will always attempt to resolve conflict in a manner other than violence. However, monologuing during a fight is foolish to Rothe, and he will never taunt, jeer, or attempt to intimidate an opponent. If the fight comes down to words, he will try and talk it down, and convince the opponent to concede.

Abilities:
Rothes Familial Curse: Rothes family possesses a curse that gives them three basic powers, the first of which is total control over any fabric they are touching. This counts for clothing on their body, on others, in signs, and anything that could be interpreted as fabric, in spite of it's actual content (the magic is what defines fabric, not science). They may manipulate it in any number of ways, constricting, folding, flying, you name it. If they let go of the fabric, however, they lose any control over it, and the fabric is also often susceptible to fire more often than not.

The second of his curse powers cannot be invoked during battle. His bloodline has the ability to create any kind of fabric, capable of any magical or natural ability that a humans imagination can think of. This is not free, however. The Windest who uses the ability must, in a manner, consult the magic and inquire as to what conditions must be met while creating the fabric in order for it to have the properties they desire. These are often proportionally outrageous to the request, and Rothe himself possesses nine such fabrics on his person.

The final power is also of little importance, but he has a natural genius for tailoring, able to construct and perform with almost inhuman skill and accuracy.

Rothes Arm: The arm Rothe gave himself to replace his lost one is constructed of seven unique fabrics, and has some natural powers of its own.

Natural:

Fabrishift: He can transform the entire fabric of the arm into any one of the unique fabrics, rather than the knotted amalgam of seven that it was originally. There is a small time between shifts, and if his arm is in the amalgam form, each of the fabrics is considerably weaker.

Unattached control and healing: He can reknit any of the fabric and manipulate it even without being in contact with the material, and if it should be singed or burned, he can replace it with another fabric.

Fabrics:

Steelsilk(steely grey): The fabric with impermeability by metal. It also has various properties of metal associated with it, and can be fashioned into a bladed weapon by Rothe.

Spongestich(aqua blue): A fabric with an enhanced absorbency, and can contain a large volume of water in it and expel it as it sees fit. He can use this to keep his arm from catching on fire, add force to a punch, etc.

Thundertwill(lighter green): Fabric that can act as an electrical conduit. He can't generate electricity with it, but he can build up static in the arm by rubbing the fabric over itself and shock an opponent slightly, stunning them or greatly, hurting them more.

Elasticotton(dark purple): A material that, when wrapped around a person, can allow them to contort and deform their bodies in drastically unnatural ways. Rothe can use this to squeeze under doorways, through cracks, even hide in walls. The potential also exists for dodging, but he has two entirely wrap himself in it, and it provides no other use for his arm.

Thermatweed(forest green): Coarse fabric that allows a person to maintain their body temperature simply by will. He can wrap this material around another persons body, or objects and flash freeze or burn them, good for knocking things over by damaging their foundations.

Chamohyde(dull brown): Fabric that takes on the color and texture of the surroundings of the wearer. The user still sticks out, despite being surrounded in the texture, so it can only be used well with an object that Rothe can immerse himself in, such as foliage.

Mediwrap(pure white): A weave that encourages faster healing of wounds when wrapped around the injured area. Does not instantly heal, but makes smaller wounds heal in hours as opposed to days, and more serious ones heal in days as opposed to weeks.

Artefacts:

Sewing Kit: The bags around Rothe's waist hold various sewing implements, from scissors and thread to fabric and stuffing. This has no power in and of itself, it's just where he stores an inestimably large amount of items.

Shadowshroud: The fabric roll on his back contains a small pillow and his beddings, a fabric called shadow wrap, which will render anyone underneath it completely invisible as long as they are unconscious, by sleep or otherwise. He uses it to prevent attack while asleep.

Windweave Greaves: The two royal blue fabrics around his legs serve as greaves, and give him enchanted movement abilities. They allow him to perform acrobatics by enhancing his agility and dexterity greatly, but not above that of a normal human. They also allow him to slightly slow descents enough to keep from shattering his bones from falls.

Weaknesses: Rothe possesses very few true weaknesses. His most blatant one is that any fabric he makes can be permanently destroyed by fire, including his arm. His arm can be replaced by fresh fabrics so long as the original stitching in his amputated arm remains.

His greatest weakness is that he's an average human. Sure, he's a bit stronger and faster, but without the support of his arm or greaves, he loses almost everything he has going for him. His power is rather limiting without the catalyst (fabric), especially in the heat of battle. Without the steelsilk around his body, blows hurt. He's above an average human, but not by far, and while he can heal, it serves no practical use during a fight.

Bio: Rothe's power to control fabric and be able to create any kind of fabric you could imagine comes from decades ago, when his great^13 grandfather sold his soul to the devil to place this ability on all succeeding members of the family. His grandfather did this to ensure his family could make a living in a harsh world, and garner a higher class of life for them. Because he sacrificed his life for something that benefited him in no way whatsoever, his soul was condemned to limbo. The power itself takes two manifestations, the first of which is complete control over any fabric in their hands, and an innate mastery over sewing and all tailoring abilities; the second is the ability to create any kind of fabric with any kind of magical properties that the person wants. However, this comes at a great price. In this fashion, the magic almost becomes a sentient being, the user can interact directly with it, and see what conditions they would have to meet to create x amount of x fabric, the more ridiculous, the greater the price, and it was never anything that could be done on the fly, they had to weave it intricately and delicately, a feat that only those with their power could do, almost as though they needed an offering to it to access this knowledge.

Now, a century or two later, we reach Rothe and his generation. They were serving out their lives in servitude to the king, knitting elaborate defensive and offensive materials for his army amidst a wartime environment. His mother, who was the direct descendant of the power, was kidnapped by a rival country to his homeland, and was tortured and conscripted to make such mystical armaments for their own armies as well. She refused to serve them, and was promptly executed. Word of this reached Rothe's country, devastating him and his father, but even more distressing is when they learn that the armies plan to come kidnap Rothe, after learning of her lineage. They come after Rothe and his father a mere two weeks later, but are met with great opposition. The king defended them, suffering heavy casualties from his own army as a result of the enemy greatly outnumbering them; for even with their powers, they haven't the means to make everything, for some requirements simply cannot be met. Rothe's father was stricken in the fight, and laid mortally wounded as the king came to Rothe, asking him for a new favor as the new court tailor. He wanted a new army, one of cloth that cannot be killed, he wanted no more loss to his people. Rothe of course, is still loyal, and consulted the magic for it, which in turn instructed him that in order to do it, he needed to go to an enemy village of at least 800 people. Rothe informed the king and was immediately sent on his way, given an inconspicuous troop of men to protect him at all times. Upon reaching a suitable location, he once again asked the magic what to do, and was informed that in order to create such an army, he had to singlehandedly kill each member of this town, and soak every piece of material in their blood. Needless to say, the very thought was mind wrenching! He was a mere 12 years old, and an artist! He wished no such thing upon anyone, and had nowhere near the desire nor ability to kill them all! So he told all the kings men that they had to go back, and they obeyed and lead him home.

Whence he returned, the king is surprised, where is his army!? Rothe did not tell him what the requirements were, simply that they could not be met. The king flew into a rage at this sentiment, saying that he protected Rothe, and the least he could do in return was protect the kings citizens. Rothe sternly refused, and the king in turn threatened to cut off the treatment of his father, who still laid mortally ill at the bottom of the castle. Rothe's face lost all color as he heard that, and he pleaded with the king, saying that it wasn't his decision, that it was beyond his ability, but the king would hear none of it. Completely certain in Rothes capability to perform, he cut off the service to his Father, even preventing Rothe himself from seeing him (as he had a fabric that was used in the treatments to heal). Rothe could do nothing over the next few days as his father slowly died from the infected wound, screaming in agony that seemed to ring through the whole castle as he writhed in bed. Rothe was lost, he had nothing but the magic, and it was hardly a warm companion. The king still demanded his army, but Rothe now refused to act even more, what more could the king take from him?

But the king, of course, still had plenty to take. He ordered Rothe seized and held down in his courtroom as an armed guard with a large axe walked out, Rothes arm was pulled out from his body, despite his struggle in the arms of the guards. The king said he would remove all unnecessary parts of him one by one until he complied, starting with his left arm. The only limb any of his family needed to use their abilities to the greatest was the arm they were naturally inclined to, Rothe's was his right. He screamed and kicked, struggling madly as his eyes swelled with terrified tears, the glistening blade of the axe raising higher in the sky as he insisted on his inability to do the task before him. There was nothing he could do, his bicep was bisected, clean through as he screamed and passed out from shock.

Immediately, he was brought to the doctor, his arm being quickly seared shut, via application of a white-hot anvil. He was still passed out from the pain when this happened, but upon his wakening in the dungeon, he screamed with such a volume that he rivaled his father, where his arm had been was a pussing, charred, poorly wrapped stub. He writhed there for a good six hours, trying to let the pain sink in, and no longer holding any loyalty to his king. He did not want revenge, no, the kingdom was doomed without him or his mother anyways, they were an otherwise weak nation. He simply wanted to escape. He wanted to leave the castle, the town, the country. But he was weak, he knew it, so he consulted the only thing he knew, he consulted his magic. He asked what would be needed to achieve the goal he had in mind, and upon receiving his answer, he walked over to the door, stumbling from dizziness onset by loss of blood, and called for the guard to bring the king down. As the king approached, he asked for his tools: a loom, threads, wool and silk, and seven of the fabrics he and his mother had prepared for the king over the years, claiming he would be able to knit the king his army one at a time. But as soon as he was left alone, he sat down at the bench and pulled out a spool of red thread, blood thread that could only break by unnatural means, never age, and tore the bandages off his stump, incurring the flow of blood and puss from the gaping wound. He set to his work, what he needed to do in order to gain that which he had wanted, and sewed seven bands of unique material into his own arm, cringing and gritting in pain, but not making a noise, as per the requirements. As the final piece was stitched directly into his muscle and sinew, he wrapped the arm in the healing fabric, leaving the long streamers of fabric hanging from his arm. He looked down at them, his gaze fuzzy from the excruciating pain, and slowly, they coiled, wrapping and taking the form of a human hand, albeit warped and over sized.

He wrapped his body in fabric that could not be pierced by bladed metal, and went to the door, using the arm he had fashioned for himself to rip it off of it's hinges. The guards were in commotion, and tried their best to stop him, but even as he bled through the base of his arm, he fended them off, killing none. He left the country that day, he took materials and fabrics with him, tools and food, and left. Nobody bothered tracking him down, by natural means, they had no chance. Skilled swordsmen, magicians, all forms of people did try to find him, but he refused to be found, constantly moving and avoiding people that would challenge or abuse his powers. To this day he wanders, looking for a means to permanently remove the curse past his generation, and have a simple life...

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