Alaric Thorne
Human, Sorcerer, Acolyte
Class: Sorcerer
Background: Acolyte
Age: 24
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Faith: The Church of Ioun, Goddess of Knowledge and Hidden Truths
Gender: Male
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 160 lbs
Hair: Dark brown, kept long and tied back—depending on “things”
Eyes: Light green (shifting when surges occur)
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Alaric grew up within the stone walls of the Sanctum of a Thousand Eyes, a secluded monastery devoted to Ioun, where orphans with sharp minds were raised to become scribes, scholars, and truth-seekers. His early years were spent recopying ancient texts, brewing inks, and praying over tomes before ever being allowed to read them. He was dutiful, patient, and devout.
That changed the day he was assigned to transcribe an unsorted, dust-caked scroll simply labeled "Waking Fire." The moment he touched the parchment, reality cracked. Symbols ignited with neon flame, chanting filled his ears, and he briefly saw himself as a creature of raw chaos and radiant sparks. His fellow acolytes said he screamed for ten minutes straight—levitating, glowing, surrounded by quills that scribbled on the walls in tongues no one recognized.
After the incident, his magic surged unpredictably. Candles flared when he sneezed. His hair shifted color with his mood. Once, he polymorphed a squirrel into a chandelier.
The monastery elders declared him "Touched by the Unwritten"—both blessed and cursed. Fearing him but unwilling to exile him, they sent him on pilgrimage to discover the source of his power—whether it could be mastered, or must be destroyed.
Alaric departed with a traveler’s pack, a holy symbol of Ioun, and the Waking Fire scroll—now blank.
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• “I seek knowledge in chaos—every wild surge is a message I haven’t learned to read yet.”
• “I laugh when I’m nervous. Or scared. Or thinking too hard. Or anytime, really.”
• Truth: No knowledge should be hidden, no matter the cost.
• Chaos as Pattern: If you look closely enough, even madness follows laws.
• The monastery is still my home, and I write letters to the librarian who raised me.
• I carry the scroll that woke my powers—it’s my only clue to who I really am.
• I don’t always control my emotions… or the reality around me.
• Sometimes I try to cause surges, just to see what happens.
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• His eyes briefly show stars when he casts spells.
• He always smells faintly of ozone and cinnamon.
• Small objects float gently when he’s focused.
Alaric Thorne
Race: HumanClass: Sorcerer
Background: Acolyte
Age: 24
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Faith: The Church of Ioun, Goddess of Knowledge and Hidden Truths
Gender: Male
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 160 lbs
Hair: Dark brown, kept long and tied back—depending on “things”
Eyes: Light green (shifting when surges occur)
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Backstory: "The Scroll That Screamed"
Alaric grew up within the stone walls of the Sanctum of a Thousand Eyes, a secluded monastery devoted to Ioun, where orphans with sharp minds were raised to become scribes, scholars, and truth-seekers. His early years were spent recopying ancient texts, brewing inks, and praying over tomes before ever being allowed to read them. He was dutiful, patient, and devout.
That changed the day he was assigned to transcribe an unsorted, dust-caked scroll simply labeled "Waking Fire." The moment he touched the parchment, reality cracked. Symbols ignited with neon flame, chanting filled his ears, and he briefly saw himself as a creature of raw chaos and radiant sparks. His fellow acolytes said he screamed for ten minutes straight—levitating, glowing, surrounded by quills that scribbled on the walls in tongues no one recognized.
After the incident, his magic surged unpredictably. Candles flared when he sneezed. His hair shifted color with his mood. Once, he polymorphed a squirrel into a chandelier.
The monastery elders declared him "Touched by the Unwritten"—both blessed and cursed. Fearing him but unwilling to exile him, they sent him on pilgrimage to discover the source of his power—whether it could be mastered, or must be destroyed.
Alaric departed with a traveler’s pack, a holy symbol of Ioun, and the Waking Fire scroll—now blank.
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Personality Traits
• “I seek knowledge in chaos—every wild surge is a message I haven’t learned to read yet.”
• “I laugh when I’m nervous. Or scared. Or thinking too hard. Or anytime, really.”
Ideals
• Truth: No knowledge should be hidden, no matter the cost.
• Chaos as Pattern: If you look closely enough, even madness follows laws.
Bonds
• The monastery is still my home, and I write letters to the librarian who raised me.
• I carry the scroll that woke my powers—it’s my only clue to who I really am.
Flaws
• I don’t always control my emotions… or the reality around me.
• Sometimes I try to cause surges, just to see what happens.
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Wild Magic Quirks
• His eyes briefly show stars when he casts spells.
• He always smells faintly of ozone and cinnamon.
• Small objects float gently when he’s focused.
Species
Children
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