Satan
08-29-06, 08:10 PM
Name: Paracelsus Lacil
Age: 13
Race: Human
Hair Color: Blue
Eye Color: Blond
Height: 5'3
Weight: 96
*Occupation: Necromancer
*Personality: Paracelsus is extremely gifted in intellect for his age, demonstrating a fluency in the Craft rivaled by few within his age group, with any specialization. He can be considered a bit immature, especially in contrast to his intelligence, though compared to anyone from his own age group, he is uncharacteristically dark minded, with an almost inhuman dedication and work ethic. Accordingly, while he may have a healthy sense of humor, it has been described as an act by those that have travelled with him, and a cover for what is macabre fascination. Paracelsus subscribes to a strict reciproctity ethic that has no strictures against typical moral qualms against violence and 'perversion'.
Appearance: Paracelsus, though thirteen, hasn't preceeded into puberty very much, and due to some accidents of growth spurt and genetics, hasn't entirely bloomed into masculinity. On top of this, he wears his hair long, and in a ponytail that he has a bad habit of playing with absent mindedly. As such, much to his chagrin, he has a bad habit of being mistaken for a tomboy of a girl, which leads to awkward moments with people that had otherwise candid intentions. He tends to wear travellers garb consisting of brown leather boots with steel toes and heels, secured to his feet by straps, rough leather brown pants tucked into the boots, and a troll-bone breast plate formed out of the rib-cage, with shoulder guards made out of the femurs. His arms are wrapped in a similar leather to to that which he wears on the rest of his body, all of it showing signs of wear; his are forearms protected by black leather gloves that run up to nearly his albow, secured tightly by leather straps, like his boots. Both are made so that with a little bit of growth, they can merely be loosened a rung.
Over his breastplate, hanging from his shoulders, is a black leather cloak, torn and work to the point that its frayed at its edges; the cloak is even more treated then the rest of his leather garb, to the point of no staining whatsoever appearing on its surface. It is complimented with a hood that Paracelsus almost never wears, usually straddling his back with the rest of it.
History: In Raiaera, Paracelsus was born to a peasant family that lived in a village near the Red Forest; the family had a tradition of being skilled in the art of folk medicine, and named the boy for Paracelsus, a character from a story telling of a fictional empire, in which the namesake served as a doctor. At a very young age, a proverb attributed to the wiseman was commanded to the young boys memory by the healer of the village, his father, a man revered for his command over treating all manner of fever and infection:
"All things are poison and nothing is without poison; only the dose makes that a thing is no poison."
It was shortly after that, when the attacks upon Raiaera began, by the legions of the undead. Regardless, the small village that Paracelsus spent his young adult life in was very rarely exposed to the rigors of battle, or the infection of the undead. Growing up in relative safety, Paracelsus didn't understand the agitation of the adults, or why the grown men were donning arms, and going off into war. For four months, as the nights grew mysteriously quiet around his village, and as the sounds of crickets disappeared, a six year old Paracelsus didn't know why the adults always spoke to one another in whispers around the children, or why the other children all wore such long faces. It wasn't until a night in which the enemy finally appeared in the middle of his village, the dead warriors that had departed their village alive, standing before them decomposed, and with open mouths stained with blood, that Paracelsus had some understanding. But as the others hid within their houses, until the zombies began to move out with the rising of the sun, Paracelsus couldn't tear his gaze from them, as though he'd been caught within the tendrils of some strange hypnosis of a spell. When the zombies left, he followed them, deep into the darkest depths of the forest, that had fallen to the infection of undeath. And as though he belonged there, the undead did not touch him. However, he had never ventured out of the village so swiftly or so far, and now that he was no longer under the strange consequences of some spell, he did not know how to return whence he came.
It was thus that he began to understand that he had an affinity to necromancy, though at first he didn't know its name. In the wilderness, amongst the soulless husks, he exercised his powers of mesmerism upon the loosely enthralled to enemies of the realm, making them do any number of things ranging from dancing to jumping off cliffs. Due to a sense of loneliness, he stuck to the undead; though they never payed him any mind, many of the carniverous flora and fauna avoided the group, and (by proxy) him at all costs. Eventually, the zombies ceased functioning, however, and inbetween episodes of confusion due to the new fact of the lack of a master that seemed to perpetuate among them, all of the corpses eventually collapsed to the fertile soil, and decomposed as they ought have done in the first place.
He lived for two more years in the forest, alone except for the intermittent traveler that happened through. He had to learn to live off the land, and to use fire to avoid the blood vines. He also had to learn more then his father ever taught him, including what plants warded off carnivores, and what was healthy for human consumption. He continued living like this until he happened upon the bodies of several travelers slain by the beasts of the forest. Instinctively, he turned them into zombies, and after a time, came to better realize the nature of his necromantic power. Though these too rotted, he came to understand a great deal about decay, and how to slow, speed-up, start or stop it. With these guinea pigs, and more that came through the forest, he soon mastered the basics of the art of animating and warping the dead, even as he began to develop a greater affinity for the forest around him. As he became more and more confidant in his skills, he became more bold in his explorations. He ventured out in the clearings, in the protection of his zombies that had been reduced to tattered skeletons, held together only by unrotted sinew, and aether force. He began searching through shrubberies, overgrowth and caves, and eventually came to find a number of sites that had once been Durklan wonders, but were now reduced to stained and stunted ruins. He entered one of these, the first time finding that his skeletons were set upon by protective creatures upon venturing no further then the threshold, being torn to bits by similar creatures that seemed to have been, of the same nature and power that he possessed. He observed, just outside the opening, as the creatures retreated inside. He then sat there, before the opening, watching and observing, for a total of two long nights and days. He was about to give up on the prospects of finding a way inside, when an odd sensation came over him, like a tingling of inner heat. He understood that he was permitted to enter, though the how remained a mystery. He entered cautiously, and immediately began inspecting every single room, the random assortment of necromantic creatures ignoring him. He collected and studied a great many of the miscellaneous items throughout, paying particular attention to the shapes of the architecture, and the carvings on the doors, floor, and walls, the entire temple he eventually knew to be shaped and divided in the form of a pentagram. In one of these rooms, the center antechamber, and upon an altar, he came across a box that contained what he later knew to be called 'the Ouroboros Egg' (amongst other names), a coiled ball of something like silver, that had an aether pulse that seemed to call out to him. He made this temple, complete with a number of undead creatures tied to the grounds, that he came to understand that he was also able to control, his home for a number of days, as he poured over the tomes he found within, all of them relating to the Craft, more specifically his own. At first, he couldn't understand the language, but that was unimportant. The diagrams seemed to speak to him, most of them related to spell circles and anatomy. He spent two years in the temple, amongst the undead guards that served as little more then guinea pigs to him. He had come to understand the ancient dialect in the tomes, and had come to understand basic anatomy, spell forms, and the basic design of the soul. Satisfied, he pocketed the Lamarck Egg, amongst other things, he left the ancient repository, setting back out into the woods with renewed spirits.
He journeyed North for a while, following the Northern Star, now unafraid of the vines, the plants, and the carnivores. He presented an aura of power, and they were now far more afraid of him, for the most part, though far more likely respectful. He didn't bother them, they didn't bother with him, and each acted as though the other didn't exist. He eventually happened upon a small town, not his own, but still better then nothing. He headed to the Inn, and requested a room, but was quickly reminded of the most important aspect differentiating the wilds from civilization; money. He needed money for food, money for lodging, and money for most other services, including the a replacement for what had become very much worn clothing. He was at a loss for a while, having to spend a night in a vacant doorway, until it finally occured to him how he might acquire some currency. There were people that needed guides and protection to travel deep south into the forest. For princely sums, he began volunteering his services, and in no time had accumulated more money then he could hope to immediately spend, without using his gift in the least.
He spent another year performing miscellaneous tasks in the forest, from hunting down criminals, to guiding and protecting travelers. He became better at forestry, and practiced his necromancy when alone, or hunting. He eventually became bored with this, however. He had heard of the academy known as Istian University, and resolved to attend, to see if they had anyone there that knew anything of worth that he could teach him. He was also torn to venture after a power that he could feel calling from the opposite direction. He felt as though he needed to travel to the empty fortress at the Obsidian Spire, and began having strange dreams at night concerning it.
It was in the beginning of his eleventh year of life that Paracelsus had a new customer to guide. He at first had a rather adverse reaction to the man, as he mistook him for a girl, which left him supressing a rather large urge to beat the man upside the head. The man's name was Cyanide Ruin, which sounded to him to be an alias. Though it is often said that an alias is closer to the truth.
Skills: Has an excellent understanding of Herbology and Toxicology, as explained to him by his father, and also learned through living in the Red Forest on his own for almost half of his life. He also has a slight back-ground in accupuncture, and anatomy. It's a given that he has at least basic forestry. Also has a very basic skill with the bow, crossbow, and various hunting traps.
His magical abilities include:
Detect Magic (Paracelsus has the ability to sense magic in any number of forms, unless specifically engineered to be undetectable)
Necromantic Affinity (An affinity for the undead, and for necromantic arts/objects. Has the ability to detect the undead, and has the ability to command unintelligent undead that don't already have a master, as well as go unmolested by generic unintelligent dead. If necromantic monsters already have a master, but have been left in an area with a generic 'kill' command, the minions cannot attack Paracelsus until their master acknowledges him as a specific target.)
Animal Magnetism (Through the connection of all living things via life-force, and the way in which his own gift leans towards the necromantic, Paracelsus has a deeper connection to all things, on all sides of fecundity, then ordinary humans, and through his time spent in the forest, has come into being able to convey his feelings to them, and develop empathy for them. By exercising this trait of understanding and subverting the natural processes of life, he is also able to suggest courses of actions to other lifeforms. The simpler they are, the more likely they are to follow his advice. Effects on people, or more complex organisms are negligible. People with a more powerful aether magnetism can overcome his own.)
Understand Magic (As long as concepts are rudimentary enough, Paracelsus can understand magic that he's looking at, remember it, and recreate it, given enough time to memorize the components. His current understanding encompasses the Ying-Yang principle of opposites and balance, and he can create spell forms in etchings, sand circles, and blood circles. Invocations include the Ouroboros and Cadecaus, as archetyes of primal aspects)
Necromantic Binding (Since he is currently unable to use the Egg of Ouroboros, Paracelsus can only bind basic dead and shades that already exist to his person as long as they have no master, and can also bind basic shades, and unintelligent nosferatu-spawn, etc. He actually prefers to bind existing undead, and the stronger, the better. He can bind up to five undead at a time, and can revive only one corpse into a zombie at a time. He is currently raising a Soul Blossom, with the intent that he can use the souls it gathers to unlock the Egg of Ouroboros)
Aether Venom (With the assistance of a knife or even a needle, Paracelsus can stab an enemy, and transfer his own life force into theirs, causing an overload that can incpacitate the victim, and even kill the incredibly weak. Paracelsus is trying to devise a method by which to specifically target their neurological systems, but has so far been unsuccessful.)
Necromantic Healing (Paracelsus can heal members of his party, with the risk of transforming them into intelligent undead if the wound is especially severe. SHOULD NOT be used in conjunction with healing magic associated with the Light.)
Paracelsus is actively devising new techniques and strategies, though they're admittedly slow in coming.
Equipment:
On his belt, a blow gun with ten darts prepped with a dose of blood vine venom capable of incapacitating an adversary for up to three hours, and another with a lethal dose of venom belonging to the brightly colored scorpions of the desert.
Has a stilleto of troll bone ivory on his lower left leg (stained with a high dose of the same scorpion poison), and a hunting knife sheathed on his upper right leg.
He also carries a satchel on his back, behind the cloak, in which he can store any number of containers and such for the collection of new poisons and herbs. He also carries a flask of white wizards sand in it, for the off chance that he might need a formal circle not consisting of blood. Beyond that, he carries typical stuff in there, like money, water, etc.
*Familiars: The Ouroboros Egg acts as a familiar. It's a coiled ball of tendrils of silver, which can uncoil inside of a body, acting as a mechanical replacement for the soul. The Egg has a will of its own, and will not lend itself to the uses of the unworthy, even going so far as to inhabit a person in ownership of it, if the current owner does not have the Gift, or attempts to treat is as a simple minion. It's as indestructable as anything when still coiled into a ball. It's other names are 'The Lamarck Egg', and accordingly, 'The Composite Soul'. Though the Ouroboros Egg permits Paracelsus to carry it, it still won't permit him to wield it
The Fealotë seedling also counts as a familiar. He carries the plant around in his satchel, intent to allow it to nourish itself on the souls of enemies, and potential enemies. Due to his affinity properties, he is able to avoid being its target by making the simple promise of continuing to gorge on multitudes, and long as it doesn't gorge on him. Much like with the Ouroboros Egg, potential problems can arise if another person with a high level of affinity attempts to supersede his own relationship with the seedling, by making a better offer, along with presenting an obvious superiority to Paracelsus. In other words, Paracelsus will get to witness first-hand the capacity of lifeforms to syphon souls.
Age: 13
Race: Human
Hair Color: Blue
Eye Color: Blond
Height: 5'3
Weight: 96
*Occupation: Necromancer
*Personality: Paracelsus is extremely gifted in intellect for his age, demonstrating a fluency in the Craft rivaled by few within his age group, with any specialization. He can be considered a bit immature, especially in contrast to his intelligence, though compared to anyone from his own age group, he is uncharacteristically dark minded, with an almost inhuman dedication and work ethic. Accordingly, while he may have a healthy sense of humor, it has been described as an act by those that have travelled with him, and a cover for what is macabre fascination. Paracelsus subscribes to a strict reciproctity ethic that has no strictures against typical moral qualms against violence and 'perversion'.
Appearance: Paracelsus, though thirteen, hasn't preceeded into puberty very much, and due to some accidents of growth spurt and genetics, hasn't entirely bloomed into masculinity. On top of this, he wears his hair long, and in a ponytail that he has a bad habit of playing with absent mindedly. As such, much to his chagrin, he has a bad habit of being mistaken for a tomboy of a girl, which leads to awkward moments with people that had otherwise candid intentions. He tends to wear travellers garb consisting of brown leather boots with steel toes and heels, secured to his feet by straps, rough leather brown pants tucked into the boots, and a troll-bone breast plate formed out of the rib-cage, with shoulder guards made out of the femurs. His arms are wrapped in a similar leather to to that which he wears on the rest of his body, all of it showing signs of wear; his are forearms protected by black leather gloves that run up to nearly his albow, secured tightly by leather straps, like his boots. Both are made so that with a little bit of growth, they can merely be loosened a rung.
Over his breastplate, hanging from his shoulders, is a black leather cloak, torn and work to the point that its frayed at its edges; the cloak is even more treated then the rest of his leather garb, to the point of no staining whatsoever appearing on its surface. It is complimented with a hood that Paracelsus almost never wears, usually straddling his back with the rest of it.
History: In Raiaera, Paracelsus was born to a peasant family that lived in a village near the Red Forest; the family had a tradition of being skilled in the art of folk medicine, and named the boy for Paracelsus, a character from a story telling of a fictional empire, in which the namesake served as a doctor. At a very young age, a proverb attributed to the wiseman was commanded to the young boys memory by the healer of the village, his father, a man revered for his command over treating all manner of fever and infection:
"All things are poison and nothing is without poison; only the dose makes that a thing is no poison."
It was shortly after that, when the attacks upon Raiaera began, by the legions of the undead. Regardless, the small village that Paracelsus spent his young adult life in was very rarely exposed to the rigors of battle, or the infection of the undead. Growing up in relative safety, Paracelsus didn't understand the agitation of the adults, or why the grown men were donning arms, and going off into war. For four months, as the nights grew mysteriously quiet around his village, and as the sounds of crickets disappeared, a six year old Paracelsus didn't know why the adults always spoke to one another in whispers around the children, or why the other children all wore such long faces. It wasn't until a night in which the enemy finally appeared in the middle of his village, the dead warriors that had departed their village alive, standing before them decomposed, and with open mouths stained with blood, that Paracelsus had some understanding. But as the others hid within their houses, until the zombies began to move out with the rising of the sun, Paracelsus couldn't tear his gaze from them, as though he'd been caught within the tendrils of some strange hypnosis of a spell. When the zombies left, he followed them, deep into the darkest depths of the forest, that had fallen to the infection of undeath. And as though he belonged there, the undead did not touch him. However, he had never ventured out of the village so swiftly or so far, and now that he was no longer under the strange consequences of some spell, he did not know how to return whence he came.
It was thus that he began to understand that he had an affinity to necromancy, though at first he didn't know its name. In the wilderness, amongst the soulless husks, he exercised his powers of mesmerism upon the loosely enthralled to enemies of the realm, making them do any number of things ranging from dancing to jumping off cliffs. Due to a sense of loneliness, he stuck to the undead; though they never payed him any mind, many of the carniverous flora and fauna avoided the group, and (by proxy) him at all costs. Eventually, the zombies ceased functioning, however, and inbetween episodes of confusion due to the new fact of the lack of a master that seemed to perpetuate among them, all of the corpses eventually collapsed to the fertile soil, and decomposed as they ought have done in the first place.
He lived for two more years in the forest, alone except for the intermittent traveler that happened through. He had to learn to live off the land, and to use fire to avoid the blood vines. He also had to learn more then his father ever taught him, including what plants warded off carnivores, and what was healthy for human consumption. He continued living like this until he happened upon the bodies of several travelers slain by the beasts of the forest. Instinctively, he turned them into zombies, and after a time, came to better realize the nature of his necromantic power. Though these too rotted, he came to understand a great deal about decay, and how to slow, speed-up, start or stop it. With these guinea pigs, and more that came through the forest, he soon mastered the basics of the art of animating and warping the dead, even as he began to develop a greater affinity for the forest around him. As he became more and more confidant in his skills, he became more bold in his explorations. He ventured out in the clearings, in the protection of his zombies that had been reduced to tattered skeletons, held together only by unrotted sinew, and aether force. He began searching through shrubberies, overgrowth and caves, and eventually came to find a number of sites that had once been Durklan wonders, but were now reduced to stained and stunted ruins. He entered one of these, the first time finding that his skeletons were set upon by protective creatures upon venturing no further then the threshold, being torn to bits by similar creatures that seemed to have been, of the same nature and power that he possessed. He observed, just outside the opening, as the creatures retreated inside. He then sat there, before the opening, watching and observing, for a total of two long nights and days. He was about to give up on the prospects of finding a way inside, when an odd sensation came over him, like a tingling of inner heat. He understood that he was permitted to enter, though the how remained a mystery. He entered cautiously, and immediately began inspecting every single room, the random assortment of necromantic creatures ignoring him. He collected and studied a great many of the miscellaneous items throughout, paying particular attention to the shapes of the architecture, and the carvings on the doors, floor, and walls, the entire temple he eventually knew to be shaped and divided in the form of a pentagram. In one of these rooms, the center antechamber, and upon an altar, he came across a box that contained what he later knew to be called 'the Ouroboros Egg' (amongst other names), a coiled ball of something like silver, that had an aether pulse that seemed to call out to him. He made this temple, complete with a number of undead creatures tied to the grounds, that he came to understand that he was also able to control, his home for a number of days, as he poured over the tomes he found within, all of them relating to the Craft, more specifically his own. At first, he couldn't understand the language, but that was unimportant. The diagrams seemed to speak to him, most of them related to spell circles and anatomy. He spent two years in the temple, amongst the undead guards that served as little more then guinea pigs to him. He had come to understand the ancient dialect in the tomes, and had come to understand basic anatomy, spell forms, and the basic design of the soul. Satisfied, he pocketed the Lamarck Egg, amongst other things, he left the ancient repository, setting back out into the woods with renewed spirits.
He journeyed North for a while, following the Northern Star, now unafraid of the vines, the plants, and the carnivores. He presented an aura of power, and they were now far more afraid of him, for the most part, though far more likely respectful. He didn't bother them, they didn't bother with him, and each acted as though the other didn't exist. He eventually happened upon a small town, not his own, but still better then nothing. He headed to the Inn, and requested a room, but was quickly reminded of the most important aspect differentiating the wilds from civilization; money. He needed money for food, money for lodging, and money for most other services, including the a replacement for what had become very much worn clothing. He was at a loss for a while, having to spend a night in a vacant doorway, until it finally occured to him how he might acquire some currency. There were people that needed guides and protection to travel deep south into the forest. For princely sums, he began volunteering his services, and in no time had accumulated more money then he could hope to immediately spend, without using his gift in the least.
He spent another year performing miscellaneous tasks in the forest, from hunting down criminals, to guiding and protecting travelers. He became better at forestry, and practiced his necromancy when alone, or hunting. He eventually became bored with this, however. He had heard of the academy known as Istian University, and resolved to attend, to see if they had anyone there that knew anything of worth that he could teach him. He was also torn to venture after a power that he could feel calling from the opposite direction. He felt as though he needed to travel to the empty fortress at the Obsidian Spire, and began having strange dreams at night concerning it.
It was in the beginning of his eleventh year of life that Paracelsus had a new customer to guide. He at first had a rather adverse reaction to the man, as he mistook him for a girl, which left him supressing a rather large urge to beat the man upside the head. The man's name was Cyanide Ruin, which sounded to him to be an alias. Though it is often said that an alias is closer to the truth.
Skills: Has an excellent understanding of Herbology and Toxicology, as explained to him by his father, and also learned through living in the Red Forest on his own for almost half of his life. He also has a slight back-ground in accupuncture, and anatomy. It's a given that he has at least basic forestry. Also has a very basic skill with the bow, crossbow, and various hunting traps.
His magical abilities include:
Detect Magic (Paracelsus has the ability to sense magic in any number of forms, unless specifically engineered to be undetectable)
Necromantic Affinity (An affinity for the undead, and for necromantic arts/objects. Has the ability to detect the undead, and has the ability to command unintelligent undead that don't already have a master, as well as go unmolested by generic unintelligent dead. If necromantic monsters already have a master, but have been left in an area with a generic 'kill' command, the minions cannot attack Paracelsus until their master acknowledges him as a specific target.)
Animal Magnetism (Through the connection of all living things via life-force, and the way in which his own gift leans towards the necromantic, Paracelsus has a deeper connection to all things, on all sides of fecundity, then ordinary humans, and through his time spent in the forest, has come into being able to convey his feelings to them, and develop empathy for them. By exercising this trait of understanding and subverting the natural processes of life, he is also able to suggest courses of actions to other lifeforms. The simpler they are, the more likely they are to follow his advice. Effects on people, or more complex organisms are negligible. People with a more powerful aether magnetism can overcome his own.)
Understand Magic (As long as concepts are rudimentary enough, Paracelsus can understand magic that he's looking at, remember it, and recreate it, given enough time to memorize the components. His current understanding encompasses the Ying-Yang principle of opposites and balance, and he can create spell forms in etchings, sand circles, and blood circles. Invocations include the Ouroboros and Cadecaus, as archetyes of primal aspects)
Necromantic Binding (Since he is currently unable to use the Egg of Ouroboros, Paracelsus can only bind basic dead and shades that already exist to his person as long as they have no master, and can also bind basic shades, and unintelligent nosferatu-spawn, etc. He actually prefers to bind existing undead, and the stronger, the better. He can bind up to five undead at a time, and can revive only one corpse into a zombie at a time. He is currently raising a Soul Blossom, with the intent that he can use the souls it gathers to unlock the Egg of Ouroboros)
Aether Venom (With the assistance of a knife or even a needle, Paracelsus can stab an enemy, and transfer his own life force into theirs, causing an overload that can incpacitate the victim, and even kill the incredibly weak. Paracelsus is trying to devise a method by which to specifically target their neurological systems, but has so far been unsuccessful.)
Necromantic Healing (Paracelsus can heal members of his party, with the risk of transforming them into intelligent undead if the wound is especially severe. SHOULD NOT be used in conjunction with healing magic associated with the Light.)
Paracelsus is actively devising new techniques and strategies, though they're admittedly slow in coming.
Equipment:
On his belt, a blow gun with ten darts prepped with a dose of blood vine venom capable of incapacitating an adversary for up to three hours, and another with a lethal dose of venom belonging to the brightly colored scorpions of the desert.
Has a stilleto of troll bone ivory on his lower left leg (stained with a high dose of the same scorpion poison), and a hunting knife sheathed on his upper right leg.
He also carries a satchel on his back, behind the cloak, in which he can store any number of containers and such for the collection of new poisons and herbs. He also carries a flask of white wizards sand in it, for the off chance that he might need a formal circle not consisting of blood. Beyond that, he carries typical stuff in there, like money, water, etc.
*Familiars: The Ouroboros Egg acts as a familiar. It's a coiled ball of tendrils of silver, which can uncoil inside of a body, acting as a mechanical replacement for the soul. The Egg has a will of its own, and will not lend itself to the uses of the unworthy, even going so far as to inhabit a person in ownership of it, if the current owner does not have the Gift, or attempts to treat is as a simple minion. It's as indestructable as anything when still coiled into a ball. It's other names are 'The Lamarck Egg', and accordingly, 'The Composite Soul'. Though the Ouroboros Egg permits Paracelsus to carry it, it still won't permit him to wield it
The Fealotë seedling also counts as a familiar. He carries the plant around in his satchel, intent to allow it to nourish itself on the souls of enemies, and potential enemies. Due to his affinity properties, he is able to avoid being its target by making the simple promise of continuing to gorge on multitudes, and long as it doesn't gorge on him. Much like with the Ouroboros Egg, potential problems can arise if another person with a high level of affinity attempts to supersede his own relationship with the seedling, by making a better offer, along with presenting an obvious superiority to Paracelsus. In other words, Paracelsus will get to witness first-hand the capacity of lifeforms to syphon souls.