The Mad Bomber
The man that would one day be known as "The Mad bomber" was born the only son of a single human mother and the forgotten offspring of a traveling Elven bard. Even in the most welcoming and understanding of communities a half elf can(and usually is) looked at and treated like a bastardization of the races. Most of the other children would shy away from him, make fun of his ears or his slighter frame. He used books as a mean to escape from the realities of his life. Countless hours would be spent reading anything he could get his hands on. It was at an early age he developed a taste for learning about both the natural world and the mystical arts, particularly how the two could work together.While the rest of his peers were out in the sun light working their bodies to exhaustion, Tyden was locked away in his own little world..expanding his mind as best he could. His natural intelligence lent well to the study of all things that piqued his interest. He would often visit the local apothecary, learning what ever he could. It was a few years before he realized he was reading the same books over again, that his trips to the apothecary were becoming less stimulating and more boring. He needed more, wanted more knowledge. As soon as he was of age he set out with a group of traveling merchants, paying his way with his knowledge and the skills he acquired through his long study.
Still young (for a half elf), Tyden found himself absolutely excited to be traveling with the merchants. With them he was able to see and study anyplace they went. It was on this first journey that he found his true interest.. alchemy, a science to some and a mystical art to other. He poured himself into any book he could get his hands on, asking questions of any who knew about the craft. Much to his disappointment he found that most held alchemy as a hobby rather then as a way of life. Eventually there came a time when he felt he no longer benefited from traveling with the merchants. With a thank you and a fond farewell the still sane boy left them. He took up resident within the walls of an expansive city-state, there he enrolled in a magical college. happy he was to find true alchemists, to discover that the so called hobby held much more then just what was presented in the outside world. Years passed in there, many a night he could remember an experiment going awry (hell for one whole month he had no eyebrows). Some say the experiments are what caused him to eventually lose a hold on sanity a bit, though if you ask Tyden himself if he is mad his response would be a soft smile and only the word "Slightly". Eventually he had squeezed all the information he could from his professors and from the books and grimoire found in the library. Once again, he would thank those that helped him along his path and took his leave.. this time out into the world.
Years passed as he explored the world around him, following any trace of information he could. He would scour through ancient libraries. Seek out collectors of strange and esoteric knowledge and ask 9or buy0 permission to study it. It came to be that if you were searching for him, you could usually find him at a table in the back of a tavern with scrolls and books strewn about it. Him hunched over and reading them by candle light as he seamed to mutter in a mixture of seven different languages and jot down strange notes and mathematical formula in a battered leather bound journal of sorts. The quest for knowledge itself was wonderful, but after one such instant he found himself badly wounded. Unable to even get out of bed, His feverish dreams dotted by moments of crystal clear lucidity and borderline madness. What if their was a way to speed the bodies rate of healing, to render even the deadliest of wounds into a mere scratch in just a few moments. The general search for knowledge had turned into a goal, a quest to redefine his very being. It was after this moment that he earned the title the mad bomber, his personal quest took him into the heart of danger to find even a shred of information he could use. His path littered with scorched earth and echoing with the blasts of his bombs and alchemical creations. To accomplish his goal he knew he would need more then just madness: he would need patience, funds, and companions.
Edit: Removed from Play.