Happy Life
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Name:
Amos Selig.
Nationality:
Catharian.
Characteristics:
Strength -- 7
Constitution -- 7
Agility -- 7
Intelligence -- 25
Willpower -- 20
Speed -- 7
Perception -- 7
Skills:
Servant
Subjugation
Death Mark
Soul Chain
Veil
Rest
Religion:
Atheism.
Biography.
"I don't like the world around me," Amos Selig told his mother when he was four years old. "Not surprising, since it used to be destroyed by demons. But don't worry, son, everything will eventually get better," his mother replied.
She turned out to be almost right and lived to ninety-two, happily dying in her bed, surrounded by relatives and offspring, but nevertheless people remained the same scum, garbage as always spilled directly out the window, and Amos Selig's stepfather still slept in the ground, accidentally falling on a dinner knife that the eldest son fished out to defend himself from his drunken attacks. "People are imperfect, son," his mother said, hugging him and sitting him on her lap while the coroner examined the scene. - "To achieve something more, a person needs faith, which will help him adhere to his own virtues." "Thank you, Mom. And thank you for giving me life," Amos replied to his mother, watching the bizarre pattern formed by the splashes of blood that flew in all directions at the moment when the stool fell on the lying stepfather with a pierced belly and crushed his head. After this incident, young Amos became interested in healing and firmly decided to become a doctor when he grew up. His mother was very proud of her son's decision and supported him in all his endeavors.
For ten years, Amos Selig studied this difficult science, but when the time came and he opened his own practice, it turned out that there was little demand for traditional medicine. No one except complete scammers would stoop to bandages and scalpels, because there is convenient, effective, and painless healing magic, bestowed upon suffering humanity by the merciful Elysea. Then, completely disappointed, Amos began to introduce notes of creativity into his useless activity: he spat and urinated in elixirs, added small portions of rat poison, soaked his instruments in dirt before use, and much more. And each time, as he sent away another stinking patient, he said: "may Elysee help you," after which he shook with laughter in his miserable room where he lived and operated. This could have continued for a long time if one day a desperate rich man, carefully trying to hide his face under baggy clothes, did not visit him. He had a problem of a peculiar kind, which he could not seek divine healing for and which he could not advertise anywhere. Amos Selig did an excellent job and received good money, after which he reoriented his work solely to treating diseases of the genitourinary sphere. By prolonging the adulterous lives of adulterers, putting them on drugs that they had to return for again and again, he made many good connections and in six months earned more money than he had in his entire life. For some time, Amos Selig lived happily until he realized that these people were no more than garbage, and that he would most likely have to rummage through their organs until the end of his days.
"You don't mean..." began the tipsy and relaxed count, barely managing to speak, during a session with Amos, whom the devil prompted to share his experiences. "Well, of course not. You are my only true friend!" Zelig assured him, imagining how he cuts pieces off his skin and feeds them to street dogs. "Then come with me and I will show you something exciting that will cheer you up!" - suddenly the Count's eyes lit up. He led the doctor to a secret sanctuary in his estate, crammed full of black magic artifacts and folios. "I collected a small collection here and there," he mumbled, swaying. "You can't imagine how much you can find in the ruins of a devastated world. But, of course, I didn't use anything! Because I am a law-abiding citizen of the confederation! Ha-ha-ha!", he burst out laughing, after which he vomited everything he had consumed that evening on the floor. "Well, what about you, Count?" Amos Selig fussed. - "After all, I warned you about the consequences of mixing alcoholic beverages with your painkiller." "I do not care!" cried the Count. "Such a moment! Take it! If you want, take it all!" - he tore his shirt open and his fat hairy belly came out.
Amos Selig took nothing, but began to visit the count's dwelling more often, spending long hours in this sanctuary, fascinated by its contents and thinking about how incredibly lucky he was. "Has anyone ever been so fortunate as to discover secret chambers filled to the brim with black magic relics, allowing one to independently learn the art of magic without any mentors or academies? No, sir, I don't think so." Here it is – knowledge inaccessible to ordinary biomass, something truly worthwhile. He spent considerable time learning the forbidden science himself; many people who did not make it home at night never returned to their pigsty. Over time, the elderly count began to decline completely until he finally passed away. Some said that he was not old enough to die naturally, but no one could dispute the conclusion of his respected attending physician, Amos Selig, who determined that stress and poor ecology had finally finished off this great man. It took Amos a whole month to secretly remove all these valuable things from the sanctuary shortly before his patient's death and continue his inhumane research in his own apartment. This continued until the situation in the city became very tense, when he moved to a beautiful suburban area, continuing to practice medicine and witchcraft equally at home, in comfort and peace, away from prying eyes, ears, authorities, and rabble, and happy patients visited him every week for ten miles each way just to get another dose of the surrogate that nourished their empty lives. However, time went on, states waged endless wars, the rich grew poorer, the poor died, and things got worse and worse. When people began to be taken out of their homes in the middle of the night to go to the front, Zelig left his homeland and went west, to a rich and fabulous land, a land of great opportunities, freedom, and permissiveness.
Equipment:
Knife, money.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
