Physical Features
- Height:
- Uncertain - 6'9" prior to death, tends to be a bit harder to measure now that he doesn't much have a body anymore.
- Weight:
- Weightless.
Strikingly large and broad in appearance. Strongman build.
- Complexion:
- Spooky fog. Dim, flickering, dusky violet glow. Sometimes appears as a man with dusky skin weathered by age and elements worn by a strangely youthful face and body.
- Hair:
- Dark and tightly curled, cropped short.
- Eyes:
- Empty sockets containing a dense, murky fog with vivid pupils of green light.
Other Features
Appears dressed in his Fellsgrad guard uniform from nearly a century ago. It is well maintained but his general being appears a bit immaterial and fog-like, as though his is coming apart particle by particle.
Social Interactions
Relationships and Companions
Slaine Eramus, daughter (adopted): A mess, let me tell u.
Possibly has living family members still though was not heavily in contact with them outside of his daughter. Highly involved in his work as a Fellsgrad guard, was regarded as a very good guard both to the public and professionally. More technically good than morally good, perhaps knowing the guard.
Personality
Good-hearted and well-meaning Nigel had always tried to do what he thought was right, though time and again he found himself falling just short of being able to confidently call his deeds in life "good". Unfortunately, that evidently makes for a restless eternal slumber as Nigel did not go peacefully into death, but lingered, afraid to pass on for what judgement he might face.
A capable man with a moral compass that always pointed in the direction it needed to, he overcame obstacles in life by any means necessary, proving adaptable and keen despite often being mistaken for being witless or gullible.
It is no surprise that a spirit was once obsessive in life as well, unwilling to move on. Failure is not an option that Nigel embraces easily. His expectations of himself and others are not set high, but they do exist and when they are not met his disappointment can be shattering. Rather prone to stoicism than any dramatic show of emotion, Nigel was considered fiercely secretive, rarely entertaining guests at home and preferring to meet in public places with plenty of personal space available. That was not to say that he was reclusive - though quiet he was considered friendly and charming by many in life, viewed as a rock among his peers.
Deeply guilty and regretful and now wrenched from his wallowing about the Fellsgrad cemetery near an unmarked grave on foggy mornings by an unknown disturbance, he in truth seems to feel that he is a martyr for his devotion to all things good, often unwilling to admit the fault in his choices though he may grapple with the personal ethics of his choices to some degree or another..
Background
- Origin:
- Fellsgrad
History
When Nigel Eramus was but a boy, he dreamed of one day being a hero. When he grew up, he would be a protector, a guardian - someone to look up to. Someone to respect.
He was on track, for the most part. He grew fast and big, so big the boys his age could hardly keep up. He was nearly the height of a grown man when he was ten, and by twenty when he joined the army he stood out among his peers, a head or better taller than those beside him.
From seventeen to thirty-two, Nigel served Fellsgrad faithfully and lived up to his dreams of becoming a guardian after some fashion. He did what was necessary for the city, expressing no remorse for doing the things that his job demanded, though he treated his duty with a degree of respect and reverence that gave his blind adherence to the laws that had given him a life that was nearly perfect, just nearly-
It was late fall when he came across a woman described as "spitting mad" by concerned citizens, a strangely specific description that Nigel found to be unfortunately literal as she proved about as easy to restrain as an angry cat, giving him an earful for every attempted approach.
She was a lunatic, Nigel was convinced. She spoke of magic, of things that would turn his poor little brain if he'd ever seen them in person. Things that were so much larger and out of his control than he cared to admit or think about, things that could threaten the very safety of Fellsgrad herself... and yet somehow she came home with him. From the moment he'd met her and on, Nigel entertained a strange fascination with the fearsome wild woman, though always at a distance, never thinking to lay a hand on her - she had told him not to. To disobey... He could not.
Slaine was born not long after the woman arrived, and only days after that, the woman vanished again - Nigel did not think it strange he could not recall asking her name though she lived with him for months and did not think to look for her again. With her out of sight she soon slipped from mind as well as Nigel found himself the accidental dad to a newborn that the midwife had called "unhealthily small", a runt they never expected to last more than a few months with her mother apparently fled.
She lived, however, and soon, like her mother, she consumed his thoughts. Whether some act of compulsion or simply the fact that Nigel had found the one thing that his city could not simply give him and that his workaholic tendencies denied him. He changed his schedule, he learned how to change diapers, he hired a nurse to care for the girl in his absence and by grams and ounces she slowly grew into a voracious toddler with the destructive capabilities of a healthy hurricane and an unnerving tendency for things to go strangely screwy in her presence, events that Nigel willfully refused to acknowledge as anything but a mundane baby, sleep deprivation, and the simple fact that he had absolutely no clue how to do this whole "dad" thing.
At thirty-nine, Nigel found the "screwy" incidents had evolved into parlor tricks - fairy lights, charmed brooms, needles that could pull their own thread - no longer could he ignore her growing fascination with magic, intentionally seeking it out, even in public where he feared she might not only give herself away, but him as well. Life for the two of them became much more isolated as, rather than risk exposure, Nigel converted their home to something more like an over-sized birdcage.
The expense of Slaine's expected dependency in adulthood and Nigel's sense of responsibility drove him into the corruption scandals surrounding the Thieves Guild, the guard, and various other criminal elements, trading his dreams of heroism away for the promise that Slaine could live a comfortable human life without really ever needing to leave their home - his plan was foolproof if he could only keep the careful balance of shenanigans and good faith balanced for a lifetime.
Nigel was sixty when he retired, and though visually iconic and marvelously good at acting the part of a good guard through out the end of his career, he was forgotten relatively soon. Ten years later, when his health deteriorated to the point he could no longer leave his home and Slaine took to his bedside care, he began to see some cracks in his plan forming. Slaine was nearly forty now and yet scarcely looked a day over twenty. Time did not seem to touch her in the way it had himself, and much to Nigel's frustration he realized that perhaps he might not have put enough aside to make absolutely good on his plan.
At eighty-two, Nigel passed. He was buried and was survived by his adopted daughter who did not show up to the service but did arrive later to insist the grave marker be removed per his wishes. Nigel had done the best he could, yet it hardly seemed enough. Still, unable to face his failures he decided to stay in the graveyard and skulk on a limited schedule, keeping largely to himself. Something has changed, however, and now quarter of a century after his death he finds himself more restless than usual for reasons unknown.
