Sigil: City of Doors

Basic Information
Name: Nicholas Millin
Aliases: Nick
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 22
Profession: Currently works for a Merchant by the name of Jach Sensbane..
Languages: Common, Elven, Slyvan
Accent: A slight old western accent

Physical Information
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 195
Body build: Toned, lean
Skin type: Rough Callused hands, otherwise Dry smooth skin
Hair style: Keeps his hair cut to a point where it falls naturally, but not long enough to reach past his ears
Scars: None immediately noticable, with a few deep scars on his hands.
Tattoos: no
Colouring: -----

[b]Hair:[/b] Dark brown [b]Eyes:[/b] Deep Green [b]Skin:[/b] slightly tanned face and hands, otherwise fair [/li]

Mental Information
Alignment: True Nuetral
Philosophy: "Life is but a series of Crossroads."
Deity/Beliefs: Apparently None, or at least he doesnt say so.
Personality:

[u]Courteous[/u] [i]Generally keeps to his manners.[/i] [u]Nervous[/u] [i]Not always, perhaps around a certain someone.[/i] [u]Helpful[/u] [i] AIms to help others to whatever extent he can.[/i] [u]Trusting[/u] [i]It takes little for him to befriend and be trusting of someone.[/i] [/li]

Additional Information
Gear: A Thinblade (rapier) always at his side, sometimes a bow across his back. When in armor it is always light, with his bladearm virtually free of any armor, and his free arm just the opposite. Out of armor he often wears heavier sets of clothing, and almost always a scarf around his neck and a brimhat atop his head.
Jewelry: None
Habbits/hobbies: Reading, fishing, riding, travel
General Health: is generally always in a steady condition of good health.
Favorite Drink: Simple wines and ales. Nothing too fancy, and nothing in particular.
Weaknesses: Nick is a very courteous and kind, expecting the same from others. It takes very little, sometimes just some small talk, before he becomes trusting of someone. He is Naive, and though he may appear very comfortable around the opposite sex, if he has any interest or feels the same returned, he becomes very nervous and shy.

“Calm down Lancer… just a few more moments.”

The words were but a break in the silence of midday, soon replaced by a small stream of hot air passing from the east. They came from a lone man speaking down to his horse. The day was nothing special; the same as most dayÂ’s in and around MullenÂ’s Pass- Hot, dry, and most of all... quiet.
He enjoyed the quiet. To him it meant that this moment in time would be peaceful. The view ahead of him, dry sandy flatlands that soon rose into darker shades of brown hills, followed by deep purple mountains too far away for even a days ride. His eyes were on the East, a constant desert that would soon turn into rocky mountains and dangerous passes. The East was also home to dangers beyond those natural- tribes of bandits ranging from the common highwaymen to scores of Orcs. This is why his eyes fell upon this direction.
Nicholas Millin was an inhabitant of MullenÂ’s Pass, a small town that was the gateway to the East, seldom traveled, and seldom spoke of. It consisted of a small town center with several outlying Ranches. One of these Ranches belonged to his Father; and on most days Nicholas would serve as one of the Hands, doing any odd jobs his father threw at him. Today, however, was not one of those days. Today was one of the days that Nicholas served the town as part of its small Militia, patrolling the outlying areas to give first warning of any bandits. Nicholas was tasked with watching the East this midday, no easy task, and not so rewarding either. He was alone for the most part, his job to ride fast and hard to alert the town. MullenÂ’s Pass was easily able to defend itself, given proper warning.
Nick raised a hand and pulled off his Brim hat, running a hand through his hair and scratching the back of his neck. Dusting off the hat he slipped it back on, and unconsciously glanced over himself in a check of equipment. He of course wore the standard Militia uniform- dark shades of blue most prominent among the boiled leathers and heavy clothing. An unstringed longbow was hooked along his saddle, and at his side was his trusty thinbladeÂ… perhaps a bit odd for a man of MullenÂ’s pass. Many of the men sported curved blades, or at least heavier blades. Nick appreciated the mobility and dexterity a thinblade could afford him, and though his weapons were no good on horseback, he preferred to fight on his own two feet.
Lancer gave a start again, moving a bit, and this brought Nicks attention ahead, where this time no mountains were seenÂ… not even the sandy foothills. What lie ahead was only a storm, a rapidly moving sandstorm, coming right for him. It was time to make haste to shelter, however the storm would easily beat him to town. His eyes scanned around him- wait, what was thatÂ… a glint in the distance?
Kicking his heels into Lancer, he galloped the horse towards the source of the glint, which appeared to be coming from a ravine just ahead. As the horse slipped downwards into the Ravine, his eyes caught his shelter- a cave along the side of a small cliff. Conveniently placed, no? Moving Lancer towards it the hot air blasted the back of his neck. The storm was growing closer. He could have sworn he could see light from this cave and his gut instinct told him that going inside would be a bad ideaÂ… butÂ… whatÂ’s the worst that can happen, Right?
He would soon find out.

CalmÂ… CalmÂ…

Nick thought as he patted the neck of his Mare, Lancer. The horse was still pressing further into the entrance of the cave, which surprisingly, was large enough for the two.. just barely.
Pushed against a wall Nick was pressed between a rockwall and his horse, who was now sheltered as well. With a grunt he gave the horse a look, and Lancer in response licked his face.

“Gah!! Dammit!..”

He pushed the Horse back a bit and assessed the situation. Outside was nothing but a sandy void, with sand still managing to blow into the cave. The only noise, save a grunt from his horse and the constant scratching of sand around him, was the constant dull noise of loud wind. He simply sighed. This storm could last for hours... and he was stuck in here. At least it was somewhat cooler in here. He slipped off his glove to wipe his face off and rub his eyes free of sand. Smacking his gloves against his arm he slipped them back on. It was time to get to work.

He first got his saddle off of Lancer, setting it in a corner and patting down the mare. After making the horse more comfortable he began to do the same to himself, removing piece by piece of the armor he was wearing. He was down to his final wrist guard when something caught his eyes. He was sitting now, and from his level he could see further into the cave, which grew much smaller the further it went. However, he was almost certain that he was seeing a light source. At first he thought it could be just an exit, but he realized this light was brighter, much brighter, compared to what shined through the blasting sand outside. He immediately stood, and drew his thinblade. If a group of Bandits, or worse, Orcs, were hidden this close to MullenÂ’s PassÂ…

It took a few ducks, and even some crawling. There was even a point where he had to stand sideways and slide. Despite this, he was much closer. The Light source had disappeared, which furthered his suspicion. Worse, light continued to fade as he ventured deeper into the cavern. He was certain he was getting near, when he reached a rather open area.

The chamber had a high ceiling, and was about the size of a small tavern. It was odd, different from the rest of the cavern...
Nick jumped as from distantly behind him Lancer let out a loud whine. He turned around and practically shouted down the chamber to be quiet. Breathing heavily, he started moving deeper. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, his boots making prints in layers of dust and sand. He was studying the area carefully. No prints. No sign of life. Hell, he was probably seeing things with this light. His free hand pulled at his canteen, which he opened and swallowed down a mouthful of water. Slipping it back on his belt, he took a sigh of reliefÂ… and then his luck kicked in.

*CRACK!* *BOOM!* *SNAP!*

There was a flash of light. He stumbled back, covering his eyes, screaming. Then there was only white. He felt as if he was falling from the top of a mountain, forever and ever, until his feet met solid ground again.

Immediately he felt a cool blast of air, not cold as winter, but nice like the lands to the west. His eyes opened, but closed quickly again. It was bright, and he rubbed his eyes. His ears, ringing, drowned out any noise, but the noise replacing it made him stop. There was conversation. The sound of walking traffic, passing carts, a few muttered whispers. A cool wind blew against his face. He opened his eyes.

It was a city. The largest he had ever stepped foot upon. People were staring at him, though many just simply kept walking by. Odd clothes, people and races of all kinds, many he did not know. His eyes searched frantically, looking around for any sign of recognition. The roads of cobblestone went both ways. Turning around, he was in front of an Inn; he did not bother to read the sign but noted that it sported a picture of a hammer. Spinning around he continued searching, and then stopped.

“No… it can’t be… I’ve not seen her for…?” His whispers stopped as he moved quickly, passing folk to move towards a particular woman, who could only give him the oddest of looks.

Sigil.


Some mornings Nick had to stop and look around him. It wasÂ… unable to describe. He walked by creatures of legend, bartered with creatures of nightmares, and befriended creatures of Myth. There was more magic here then he had ever thought existed, so much going on all at once. And that was just the City.
It had been some timeÂ… a long timeÂ… since he first set eyes on Neli LaÂ’meor long ago. She had taken him in, teaching him the ropes of the city. This, apparently, is where she disappeared to, and for some time, he suspected that this is where she called home. At first she was a rather tough shell to crack, as she was back in MullenÂ’s Pass, but he soon started to get her to talk- not at all very much, but plenty more then ever before. ThatÂ’s when something started to happen; Unexpected and ill prepared he was for it, but nevertheless it happened. He grew feelings for her, and eventually, a Love he could not contain. That was long ago, when he pulled her aside and blurted it out. Nick was often awkward and nervous, but not then. Yet, to him, it felt like only moments had past. But even in the shortest moments, time can change.
In storybooks such words would have ended in relationships, but not for him. Neli was, as she put it, already taken, and the happiness that had emitted from her and her lover was enough to make him happy. He learned that his feelings did not dictate possession. He could still feel for her, but through other ways than relationship. He was learning many things during his stay in Sigil.
Jach Sensbane, the man that had first taken in Neli as an Enchantress, eventually pointed him towards alchemy. It was a rather odd profession to take up, but then again, this was Sigil, whereÂ… everything was rather odd. Nick spent many nights reading and studying the profession, going from the basics to concentrations and mixtures, and even learning to make some of his own. He even got to the point he was comfortable selling his creations. Nick, of course, was nowhere near Neli in popularity and sells as a merchant, afterall, the famous Enchantress was able to put magic into armors and weapons and most items, where as he, a rather new alchemist, was stuck to simple creations. Sales wereÂ… stable, but he found himself still finding odd jobs to make jink.
Kelth McEwan, another name he knew well. This was the man teaching him many things, from using his thinblade properly to using his mind properly. This man had taken him as an apprentice, to teach him the ways of a warrior. While this was just beginning, it was admittedly what he looked forward to most. Nick wished to be able to protect those he cared about.
Nicholas MillinÂ’s story was slowly starting to emerge among the many pages of SigilÂ’s, and to him, he could only wait and see what the next page would bring, where the next crossroads would lead.