Wrath of Asmodeus
Mephisto Israfen is a 26 years-old Half-Elf. He stands 6 feet tall and has a lean body with fair skin. His clean-shaven face has two turquoise and sharp eyes, and short silver hair is neatly swept back behind his slightly pointy ears. His leather armour is covered by a handsome full sleeved emerald-green shirt with fingerless leather gloves covering his hands, up his arms, to nearly his elbows. His simple pants, earth-brown, are tied to his waist with a pitch-black belt. A rapier in a simple black scabbard is situated at the right of his hip, with a dagger with a similar sheath on his left. An elegant silvery-white cloak, from his neck to feet, covers his back and sides and is buckled to his front. On his back is his dark-brown backpack, with a bedroll neatly tied to its top, a water skin strapped to the side, and bagpipes fitted at the bottom. A lyre is slightly jutting out of said backpack. Black, leather shoes cover his feet. He wears a slight, trustworthy smile under most circumstances.
Mephisto never knew his elven father, and soon after he was born into his human village, his mother remarried. Feeling out of place and succumbing to wanderlust, he renounced his surname and left his home at a tender age of 14 and embarked on a journey to nowhere in particular. Eventually lost, exhausted and hungry, he collapsed and was saved by a travelling bard, Lazurus Israfen. Upon hearing Lazurus’ wonderful skill with a Lyre, Mephisto begged Lazurus to take him under his arm. Soon they grew very close, enough for Mephisto to take his mentor’s surname and become Mephisto Israfen. The pair traveled quite a lot, and Mephisto learned and heard of many stories about all the islands. Unfortunately, on a moonless night they were attacked by goblins and his mentor was killed. He received his adoptive father’s last words and lyre, and currently cherishes them both dearly.
Now 21 and feeling aimless, he wandered once more and found himself in The Clawes, a port town facing the endless sea. There he heard of a peculiar legend of a mythical and unearthly beautiful sound that sailors would hear from the sea on moonlit nights, a music that would calm the very seas at once. Intrigued but skeptical, he decided to pursue this incredible tale, feeling his inner bard lean in. That night, a full moon rose and he set out slightly away from the town, towards a rockier area and climbed the tallest formation there and waited. What felt like hours passed and before he knew it, a terrible storm swept in in the blink of an eye. Cowering under feeble shelter, he was sure that his end was nigh, but with his eyes closed he heard it. The music he heard could be from no instrument, nor by mortal hands. No, even the gods could not do this he felt. He did not open his eyes for fear it would stop, and when he finally peaked, he saw the storm had vanished faster than it had come. Mephisto returned to his inn dazed and slept. Waking up the next day he realized that what he saw and heard was not a dream for sure, because such music was unimaginable for him. Feeling a fire ignite within him, he sets out in order to acquire as much information and gold as he can so as to procure a magnificent ship and able crew to find the source of the music in the endless expanse of the seas, alongside the goal to become a truly amazing bard that could create the feelings in others the kind he felt from the music.