A 19 year old teenager boasting a height of only 5’8” while weighing only 9.5 stones (133 lbs.) His brown hair is long, his bangs go to his nose to hide his eyes and the back of his hair goes to his shoulders. He has dark bags underneath his eyes due to a lack of sleep, not because he won’t get enough sleep, but because he can’t for long periods of time. As a cultist, he was exposed to the nightmarish presence of the Eldritch Beings, like worms burrowing into his mind, they keep him awake with their occasional spasms, securing themselves deeper within. These same terrors caused his eyes to turn from its natural hazel to an iodine yellow, rimmed with a faint pinkish-red from his eyes being opened for so long. You can barely see his eyes through his hair, but you can’t maintain eye contact long because his eyes are constantly shifting around, looking at everything. He is lanky but coordinated and capable of lifting his weight. Due to a job that relies on his own speed and wittiness, he is good at parkour and scaling walls, even sheer brick ones. Due to this constant practice, his fingernails are chipped and jagged. He has thick calluses on his hands and scars line his legs and arms, from falling off building sides and trees, as well as running through bramble and thicket. He wears a simple shirt and shorts, all covered by his dirty cultist robes. He tried to keep them as clean as he could, after tearing out any obvious designs, but age and fatigue had left it permanently worn and the edges frayed. His robe also sport similar cuts to that on his arms and legs, proof of how much he wears it. He doesn’t wear it as a memento of his past, but rather because it’s warm and comforting. more expensive than anything he could afford. He tries to maintain his cleanliness, washing his body in rain barrels, so his hair isn’t greasy and his hands and feet aren’t grimy.
An ex-cultist, part of a minor sect that was eradicated after being successfully able to summon an Eldritch being in an abandoned church in the outskirts of the city. It was not a major one, or even a powerful one for that matter, but toying with the powers above you still had the same sacrifice. Madness was not a force to be trifled with, or to be toyed with. The fools begged for money, begged for power, but their wishes fell on deaf ears. The monster did not see those in front of it as anything more than livestock. Descending upon them with a deathly howl, it washed itself in the blood of the cultists and filled its stomach with their flesh.
Zach’s parents held tightly onto their son and as it drew close to them, they shoved him forward and ran for it. However the beast tracked movement, and it looked from the distraction quivering before it, to the two running figures in the distance and lunged after them, clearing over Zachary’s head. He couldn’t turn around, only capable of listening to his parents’ final cries of mercy and death. The beast’s rampage however did not come with its own consequences. Its large body could not navigate the halls and the rooms without crashing about, shaking the building to its very foundation, before the weak wooden beams that supported the structure gave in, collapsing the building on top of them. Zachary was buried underneath beams and roofing, but the beams collided into each other, creating a teepee that protected the boy from the wreckage around him. The monster was not as lucky, being crushed underneath thousands of pounds of brick and mortar.
He can’t remember how long he stayed hidden, afraid and in shock, unable to process what he had just been witness to. However he knew he could not die here, he had to stop the Eldritch Beings from rising once again, their power was too vast and their minds too corrupted that they would not bring the power he had heard the leaders preach about. So once he was able to escape from his protective alcove, he began sifting around the ruins, looking for anything salvageable. He found trinkets and baubles hanging off the limbs of dismembered corpses and quickly pocketed them, in the shed in the back was a shovel. He knew that just himself wouldn’t be able to do much about the situation but he couldn’t just sit there. One of his numerous job was as a grave robber, so he decided that he would continue that trade to hopefully pay for his livings and would also use the career opportunity to perhaps track other sects of the cult and then get the constables to stop them.
Personality: He constantly rubs his eyes, then shaking his head to focus. He’s a very cautious and observant boy, capable of getting the high ground to get a good look at everything. He’s a very quiet boy who often communicates by pointing and writing, his voice weak and thready.
Attributes: He has a natural gut instinct that the closer he gets to a cultist’s hideout, the more scared he gets. He knows the slums and parts of the city that are near cemeteries like the back of his hand. He can easily get himself lost amongst the confusion of alleyways and scaffoldings. He has quick fingers and can pickpocket as well as lockpick.
Weapons/Equipment: A shovel, lock pick set, and a notepad with a coal stick
