Exhibit A: Charles(Now, please remember that I lack all the rule books and whatnot. This is my stab at it.)
Charles is a four trick creature. As a departure from the other sword slingers you all know me for, this poor guy wouldn't last too long in combat. But he had communicate by magic over long distances, heal by magic a bit, is a fantastic lawyer, and is a first rate teleporter. Most of the magic is aided by rune tattoos all over his body ... which can make some activities awkward at best. (Please see attached mini story ... yes ... that IS mini ... for me.)
I am going to trust you guys to make an acurate (as best you can) and fair sheet for him. I don't need to tell you that INT, and WILL are going to be key here. If you have any questions let me know.
Some basics: He's 40, 5'11'', colors shown above (blue eyes ... which may be hard to see). He would much rather talk his way out of an issue than fight (obviously). He has the annoyinghabit of knowing how to push people's buttons, and takes pride in being hard to noticeably rattle.
(Story time! Everyone have their juice boxes and cookies?)
“Charles! Drop what you’re doing!” Stone, of the Stone, King, and Smith stuck his head into the very black and very posh office of Charles Jouskonsudt esq. “You’ve been summoned to the Hall of Thaumatergical Law.”
“Well,” Charles said, removing his feet from his desk, “That wasn’t expected for another month. Is it really that time again?”
“Nope,” the senior partner saluted him. “Rumors of active duty. Have fun, soldier!”
“This certainly puts a cramp in my day,” Charles said to the empty room. “Cynthia,” he pushed the intercom icon and called his assistant. “Cancel my appointments for today.” Finally he got up and headed for the door, buttoning up his black suit coat in one fluid motion. “And I was SO looking forward to that flounder for lunch,” he muttered to himself as he made his way to the elevator, wishing he had worn black boxers instead of purple.
* * * * *
“Specialized Wizard Jouskonsudt,” said one of the board members from his high shadowy seat. “What have we told you about that name?”
“I like making opposing council try to say it,” Charles smiled up at the board members. He stood in a spotlight in the center of a gleaming white floor. They were in a dark crescent of shadow looking down at him. He was fairly sure most of them were scowling. But he didn’t make it where he was today by being unnerved by a few scowls. “I find watching someone stumble through my name puts me in an intellectually superior position in the eyes of some juries. I stick with it for that.”
“Very well. After this examination, if you are found fit, you will be assigned a unit of ASSs to assist and advise should they need it.” He couldn’t even tell which one of them was speaking any more. Spooky bastards. “We heard that! Disrobe now.”
A rack with hangers on it materialized next to him, and Charles went about the task of stripping down to the boxers with the unfortunate color. Usually, he liked his clothing to match. The purple was a bit of a fluke. A gag gift from someone special. He had worn them to spite her and ruin her fun today. If she could see what he was up to now, she would laugh. Once all his clothing was hung neatly and his shoes paired in a most orderly fashion, the rack melted back into the shadows. He knew the drill. This was the fifth such examination he had endured. He spread his arms and turned so his back faced the board members.
Runes were tattooed symmetrically across his shoulders, down his back and even down the back of his legs. There were thirty-seven of varying size. Charles cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders and adjusted his spine. “Activate them, please,” said one of the board members.
Charles took a deep breath, centered himself and opened his mind as he had been instructed. The runes began to radiate a potent deep purple light. Presumably, it was the color of his aura. Whatever. They came in handy when he needed to move things around and impressed women. Or … the one who had ever seen them anyway. He could feel the tingle under his skin around the complicated designs and knew they were all working as they should.
“Very good, Charles,” said the same board member. “Now I would like you to sense-link yourself with the man in the field who has been marked with your rune.”
Fighting a very inappropriate yawn, he touched the odd 37th rune on the back of his neck, then passed his hands over his head to link the rune’s energy with his eyes and ears. First he saw the inside of a prison cell. It was well decorated with very familiar items; the inhabitant would be there for a very long time from the looks of it. But he wasn’t afraid of this. He knew who that was. Sure enough, it was her face in the mirror. When she looked up and he saw through her eyes, Charles had to fight a smile. He had connected with the person he wanted to see through, not the one assigned, and he was sure the board members knew about it. He pulled out of the woman’s mind and began to search. Normally, a connection over the huge distances being required here was nearly impossible, and required a wizard with more skill and practice than he had. But it was all in the runes. They made such long distance links possible. Charles and the Hall stood in the near center of Allied space, he managed finally to open his eyes and see through the visor of an ASS in the field. The soldier looked out into space, perhaps wondering why he was there. Through his eyes, Charles saw a big gorge. The man was standing in a little cove in the cliff face.
“Hey, Charlie!” The soldier said, then waved his hand in front of his eyes in a friendly fashion. These where the times when he most wished he could do this anonymously. People could be SO annoying. But that was the way of it. His touch wasn’t gentle enough to go unheeded. “Welcome to Warthog Gorge! Tell the board members that the password is ‘Soy Milk’.”
Charles’s face withered for a second. What? He turned around and stared at the board members with his own eyes. “Soy Milk? Are you kidding me?”
“What? I like it,” said one of the unspecified voices. “What were you expecting? ‘Eye of Newt’ and bullshit like that?”
“Well no, but … fine. The password is … that.” Charles shook his head and continued to relay other symbols and sounds required for the test. When the connection had been broken, he turned around and addressed the board members again. “Charlie?”
“Usually, we require soldiers in the fields to address our wizards in a more proper fashion, but as you have chosen to retain your ungodly difficult to decipher last name, against our best advice, we had to improvise. You brought it on yourself.” This time a female board member spoke.
He didn’t suppose he could argue with that and win, so he let it drop. Fantastic. He would be Charlie to the troops at large. Fine. Life is neat. “Very well, Ma’am.” Charles inclined his head. “What is my next task?”
“We would like you to summon various people and items we have designated."
Charles smiled to himself. This is what he was good at. One by one, items began to appear on the floor around him. Depending on the weight and potency of the item, a different pattern of runes would illuminate on his body. He pulled in a shopping cart, then a child who giggled as though he had just been on the best amusement park ride ever. A grown woman, a grown man, a horse, then lastly a large armored vehicle with three occupants. The last teleportation had been such a heavy item and had come from so far away that Charles lowered himself to hands and knees in order to better catch his breath and gather his wits. As he watched the room spin, two men got out of the vehicle and opened the back hatch. The pulled out the third occupant, a man on a stretcher who appeared to be bleeding profusely. He didn’t have to be told what his final task was. Taking a deep breath, he crawled across the floor to the man and pulled himself up so he could see. The poor soul had a large gash in his leg. Charles pressed his hand to the wound, cast his spell, and the bleeding stopped. Completely drained, he collapsed leaving a smear of the man’s blood across his chest and face as he fell to the floor.
* * * * *
He woke in his own home hours later with a letter of commission glowing next to him. He had passed their tests again this year. And his reward was to be shipped off to the middle of the nowhere universe to help a bunch of ASSs.
He stopped by the prison and said goodbye to the woman in the mirror, then reported for duty. He left three cases pre-trial. Though the board members had assured him that his practice would be waiting for him when he returned, it occurred to Charles as he boarded the ship, that the practice may very well be waiting forever. For the first time in years he was scared. This he hid behind a quirked smile and off-color comments about today’s state of affairs. Rich, spoiled and completely unaccustomed to this conflict up close, Charles was shipped off to war.
