Ispir Sione
"I'm always at my happiest when I'm making other people smile. From one small child to a whole tavern of patrons doing good by others is my calling."
- Ispir Sione
Appearance
Standing at an imposing five-foot-nothing Ispir cuts a svelte, tiny figure to nearly everyone he meets. Those who look upon the Wandering Minstrel swear that he must be an Elf or use some sort of magic to enhance his appearance because the first thing anyone notes about him is how absolutely, abnormally perfect his skin is. It would almost be unsettling if it wasn't so beautiful. No mark exists upon it anywhere. Folds, creases and wrinkles vanish without leaving any sort of indents or lasting lines in his skin even during normal movement and even on the rare occasion he has been injured scars never last long and never remain permanently.
The second things people tend to gravitate towards where the Minstrel is concerned are his bright aquamarine eyes and dyed(?) tips of his twintails. Ispir denies dying his hair and simply claims they have always been this way though most simply guffaw and claim he is spinning a yarn. The last, but most obvious, aspect of his appearance people tend to settle on is the svelte figure the Minstrel seems to keep despite drinking, eating and partying at every tavern he performs at. No amount of wine or beer results in a gut forming, no pile of sweets seems to stick to his bones, and indeed though he possesses a ravenous appetite Ispir's appearance always remains starkly, unnaturally beautiful and lean. If not particularly muscular.
The second things people tend to gravitate towards where the Minstrel is concerned are his bright aquamarine eyes and dyed(?) tips of his twintails. Ispir denies dying his hair and simply claims they have always been this way though most simply guffaw and claim he is spinning a yarn. The last, but most obvious, aspect of his appearance people tend to settle on is the svelte figure the Minstrel seems to keep despite drinking, eating and partying at every tavern he performs at. No amount of wine or beer results in a gut forming, no pile of sweets seems to stick to his bones, and indeed though he possesses a ravenous appetite Ispir's appearance always remains starkly, unnaturally beautiful and lean. If not particularly muscular.
Skills and Abilities
Magical Musical Prodigy
Though Ispir claims to never use magic in altering his appearance he does utilize magic in the playing of various instruments and can even alter the sounds that they make up to a certain degree. He could, for example, make a simply lyre or lute sound like a modern electric guitar but not like a drum. Or he could make a small drum sound much, much deeper than it could ever truly be but he could not make the drum sound like a clarinet, and so on. There does not seem to be a single instrument on Arethil he cannot play either by hand with his magic.
Omnivocal
Ispir possesses the ability to make his voice sound like any voice he can imagine. This includes perfectly mimicking the voices of others and even projecting his tone, pitch and frequency to a drastic degree. He can even make his own voice echo as if in a giant, empty room while in the middle of a tavern; Cause his voice to overlap with itself and his words to echo nearly on top of one another; To 'throw' his voice and have it seem to originate from anywhere in eyesight and generally twist his voice in any way he can think of.
Omnisciac
Ispir possesses the very odd ability to choose to forget things he doesn't want to remember. Which was, initially, an ironic ability since after forgetting the memory he doesn't remember why he chose to forget it in the first place. Nowadays he is loathe to use this ability as he blames it, and himself, for why his earliest memories are of waking up on Mount Dincia, alone. This ability does grant him virtual immunity to being hypnotized or otherwise mentally influenced as it seems this ability to force himself to forget things extends to commands and thoughts implanted into his mind by others as well.
Forgotten Weapon Mastery
The lyre that Ispir carries is enchanted to be able to, as far as Ispir has tested, turn into any weapon he can imagine. What's more is that the lyre seems to interact with his ability to force himself to forget things and forces Ispir to remember a great degree of skill with seemingly any weapon he can think of. Ispir himself has speculated that maybe the lyre itself is simply enchanted to give him skill with whatever it turns into but never admits that with that skill comes vague memories of using the weapon the lyre has turned into in battle. But against what.... he cannot remember.
Natural Astronomist
Ispir has the uncanny ability to know any constellation he looks at at a glance as well always being able to navigate via the stars. He calls it a 'gut feeling' and simply 'just knows' these things. This even extends to possibly aiding him in seeing through illusions or other falsities that attempt to mimic the night sky. As of yet this intuitive sense has never failed him.
Though Ispir claims to never use magic in altering his appearance he does utilize magic in the playing of various instruments and can even alter the sounds that they make up to a certain degree. He could, for example, make a simply lyre or lute sound like a modern electric guitar but not like a drum. Or he could make a small drum sound much, much deeper than it could ever truly be but he could not make the drum sound like a clarinet, and so on. There does not seem to be a single instrument on Arethil he cannot play either by hand with his magic.
Omnivocal
Ispir possesses the ability to make his voice sound like any voice he can imagine. This includes perfectly mimicking the voices of others and even projecting his tone, pitch and frequency to a drastic degree. He can even make his own voice echo as if in a giant, empty room while in the middle of a tavern; Cause his voice to overlap with itself and his words to echo nearly on top of one another; To 'throw' his voice and have it seem to originate from anywhere in eyesight and generally twist his voice in any way he can think of.
Omnisciac
Ispir possesses the very odd ability to choose to forget things he doesn't want to remember. Which was, initially, an ironic ability since after forgetting the memory he doesn't remember why he chose to forget it in the first place. Nowadays he is loathe to use this ability as he blames it, and himself, for why his earliest memories are of waking up on Mount Dincia, alone. This ability does grant him virtual immunity to being hypnotized or otherwise mentally influenced as it seems this ability to force himself to forget things extends to commands and thoughts implanted into his mind by others as well.
Forgotten Weapon Mastery
The lyre that Ispir carries is enchanted to be able to, as far as Ispir has tested, turn into any weapon he can imagine. What's more is that the lyre seems to interact with his ability to force himself to forget things and forces Ispir to remember a great degree of skill with seemingly any weapon he can think of. Ispir himself has speculated that maybe the lyre itself is simply enchanted to give him skill with whatever it turns into but never admits that with that skill comes vague memories of using the weapon the lyre has turned into in battle. But against what.... he cannot remember.
Natural Astronomist
Ispir has the uncanny ability to know any constellation he looks at at a glance as well always being able to navigate via the stars. He calls it a 'gut feeling' and simply 'just knows' these things. This even extends to possibly aiding him in seeing through illusions or other falsities that attempt to mimic the night sky. As of yet this intuitive sense has never failed him.
Personality
A playful, charming person Ispir is friendly to everyone he meets one would have to actively try and make an enemy of this playful Minstrel. This doesn't mean, however, Ispir is incapable of taking things seriously nor of being a considerate ear to listen to the plights of those he meets. He seems to even have a knack for quick-thinking quips and jokes to lighten even the most dour moods. Though he is what many would describe as 'easy to get along with' it is not impossible to find him grating by any means. More than one surly patron or person with little patience for a suspiciously friendly attitude from a stranger have found the small Minstrel more annoying than endearing.
Despite this Ispir is always willing to go out on a limb even for strangers. Stating on more than one occasion that "strangers are just friends you haven't met yet!" and indeed few have the bleak, severe outlook so ingrained as to maintain it in Ispir's presence for long.
Despite this Ispir is always willing to go out on a limb even for strangers. Stating on more than one occasion that "strangers are just friends you haven't met yet!" and indeed few have the bleak, severe outlook so ingrained as to maintain it in Ispir's presence for long.
Biography & Lore
The soft, cold kiss of snow upon skin is the first sensation in Ispir's mind. The vague rousing to consciousness being met with a cold and strangely familiar embrace as the snow pulled the heat from his body to melt beneath him. Lightly dampening his clothes he his aquamarine eyes burst open in a startled awakening. Warm breathe left his lungs with each exhale even as cold mountain air was drawn in with every inhale. Thin arms would push him up to his knees, sitting back on his calves, he would scoop up his lyre without a single active thought telling him to do so. Somehow he knew it was simply... part of him.
Aquamarine eyes would sweep the lonely mountaintop he found himself on. Confusion paramount in his mind as he had no recollection of how he found himself here or even how to get down. Distress settled lightly over his heart at first, like the first coiling of a serpent around one's chest as he frowned softly. Why was he here? What had he been doing before he was here? What memories did he have aside from his name, his personality and how to create music? No immediate answers rose from the depths of his mind to provide clarity and Ispir would swallow gently in worry.
Next his mind turned to food, he needed to eat, and feeling around his person he found a hefty bundle of dried meats, nuts and berries in one of the pouches on his hip. This provided some relief but even more confusion. Why was he on a mountaintop with a full bag of food? He would turn to look down the mountain path, wondering if perhaps he had brought other supplies and left them on his trek but... no. No discarded bags of food, no smoldering fires shielded from the snow, nothing even so telling as a trail of footprints leading to his currently crouched position.
Plopping back onto his rear Ispir would huff and pull up a piece of dried meat, munching it absentmindedly, and scratch his head as he began to simply give up on finding answers for the moment. If he sat up here for too long he would freeze to death, or maybe starve, and surely someone somewhere knew something about him? That thought concerned him because the only reason he could think of to be found one a random mountaintop with a bunch of food was that either someone who didn't like him had dumped him here as a sort of game or that someone ELSE had wiped his memories. Which, he suddenly realized, was a novel experience as much as it was aggravating.
Wait.
How did he know he could erase his own memories? Had HE done this for some reason? His frustration, confusion, and aggravation suddenly turned inward and after finishing the dried meat he would tug his cap down over his ears fitfully, stretching the fabric as he huffed to himself.
"Well that's just great.'
He thought before standing up, dusting the snow off his butt, and drawing his cape about himself as he began to trek down the mountain.......
Months Later.....
Those questions that had once seemed so pressing only just lingered in the back of his mind as things he would "get to someday" as he finished a performance at a tavern in Elbion. Enjoying drink, friendly faces, snacks and merriment he was confident he could push down the questions about his past.
At least.... for a little while longer.....
Aquamarine eyes would sweep the lonely mountaintop he found himself on. Confusion paramount in his mind as he had no recollection of how he found himself here or even how to get down. Distress settled lightly over his heart at first, like the first coiling of a serpent around one's chest as he frowned softly. Why was he here? What had he been doing before he was here? What memories did he have aside from his name, his personality and how to create music? No immediate answers rose from the depths of his mind to provide clarity and Ispir would swallow gently in worry.
Next his mind turned to food, he needed to eat, and feeling around his person he found a hefty bundle of dried meats, nuts and berries in one of the pouches on his hip. This provided some relief but even more confusion. Why was he on a mountaintop with a full bag of food? He would turn to look down the mountain path, wondering if perhaps he had brought other supplies and left them on his trek but... no. No discarded bags of food, no smoldering fires shielded from the snow, nothing even so telling as a trail of footprints leading to his currently crouched position.
Plopping back onto his rear Ispir would huff and pull up a piece of dried meat, munching it absentmindedly, and scratch his head as he began to simply give up on finding answers for the moment. If he sat up here for too long he would freeze to death, or maybe starve, and surely someone somewhere knew something about him? That thought concerned him because the only reason he could think of to be found one a random mountaintop with a bunch of food was that either someone who didn't like him had dumped him here as a sort of game or that someone ELSE had wiped his memories. Which, he suddenly realized, was a novel experience as much as it was aggravating.
Wait.
How did he know he could erase his own memories? Had HE done this for some reason? His frustration, confusion, and aggravation suddenly turned inward and after finishing the dried meat he would tug his cap down over his ears fitfully, stretching the fabric as he huffed to himself.
"Well that's just great.'
He thought before standing up, dusting the snow off his butt, and drawing his cape about himself as he began to trek down the mountain.......
Months Later.....
Those questions that had once seemed so pressing only just lingered in the back of his mind as things he would "get to someday" as he finished a performance at a tavern in Elbion. Enjoying drink, friendly faces, snacks and merriment he was confident he could push down the questions about his past.
At least.... for a little while longer.....
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