Sammael Abbot

Short, wiry, and lithe. Dirty brown hair and blue eyes, permanent stubble.

Description:
Bio:

An Impotent Beginning

No man’s thread is simply one color, as the fates weave our life lines colors come and go. Vibrant and dull at the same time these threads form the inescapable bonds of fate. But in the early weave there were those that were colorless, their fates unwritten and sullied by those threads around them. It was around this time a man was born, a rather uneventful birth for a man that would walk with gods and be touched by unspeakable horrors. The world would later remember the events of his life in the background of tales and snippets of archaic tomes.

The harsh light of the sun bore down on the small hovel that this child was born in, the scent of rotten fruit and food left too long in the open air filled this part of town. Pelton wasn’t a large town by any means but it was well off. Farms dotted the landscape providing the surrounding areas with commerce and wealth. However, the boy was not born to one of those farms, his parents were neither well off nor particularly moral people. It is possible the loved him for a moment when he was born but it is a truth that remains unknown to him. The mercenary band that purchased, then abandoned him never told him the truth of his birth, and the children that found him knew not of the mercenaries. It was only later after years of searching that Sammael would find the truth of his parentage but that is a story that won’t be told here, not yet, for the time is not quite right.

Edlon Teaches a Lesson

“You want a reason for fighting? Let me tell you the single most important truth you will ever learn. It continues… forever. You defeat the first, then someone stronger appears. If you manage to defeat them, then an even stronger opponent comes along. As long as humanity and its soul exists, there will be disputes, and those disputes will lead to battle. Those who have power will eventually be drawn into conflict. Compared to the “righteous” greed of the rulers, the villains of the world seem much more honourable. At least we are honest about being the shit you scrape off your heel.”

Sammael Abbot

Indecision insomniaWalking