Cloud Louise Candlelit
Speaks in Maroon
"If you choose to do something, do it all the way."
Age: Cloud is an adult. Older than Alexis. Not sure if he's getting any older.
Alignment: Forceful, Heartless, Steadfast, and a little Hedonistic. Lawful Neutral. White Mana. The sign of the Lady. Type O blood. Cancer zodiac.
Class/Profession: Demi-god Warrior-Priest
Power Rating: 7, or S-
Description: Cloud is a big, musclebound guy with taut dark skin covered in a veritable maze of scars, hair in cornrows, and a fair amount of red-and-gold jewelry, from rings, to ear studs, to little loops braided among his hair. A sprawling tattoo of a scorpion covers a lot of his torso. He is generally found wearing an elaborate priestly outfit: white robes, giant collar, golden cords, orange monastic scapular with an embroidered image of a scorpion lifting up the sun, silken prayer strips fluttering from his long sleeves, sashes and scarves and more. There's a halo around his head, a glowing ring of gold, exactly the color of his eyes.
Personality: Cloud is generally a good person, but he is not a particularly nice person. He is direct, and stubborn, and mocking.
He doesnít want to go back through where heís been.
Cloud drives a drill-tank that he took from some very unfriendly mole-people.
He carries an archaic wheellock pistol, a harpoon gun, and an enchanted silver sickle effective at cutting through armors.
The passenger compartment leads straight on to the driver's seat, and whilst the vessel's interior is designed for the short stature of the Diggers, there's plenty of unused room for spare equipment and several bags hang from hooks on the ceiling, alongside two spare Digger harpoon-guns, a length of spare chain, and a weapon similar to the harpoon-guns but without the chain; next to it are five short spears that look like they should fit.
The vessel has a small screen showing a topographic map of the area around the subterranean tank, which also marks the hardness of the surrounding earth. To aid in surface steering, there's a pair of levers that brake one track each, much like a human-built tank's braking mechanism. There's a fair few other, miscellaneous buttons and switches, but they're all labelled. The Digger's script appears to use a non-Latin alphabet and none of the buttons are legible to those that can't speak the tongue, but the acceleration pedal and steering levers are pretty obvious.
You can generally find a collection of miniature holy texts chained to his belt.
One of the bags is filled with coal to fuel the mole-machine's furnace.
Another contains three wheel-lock pistols, a smaller bag of pistol balls made of copper, four horns of gunpowder and a kit to make pistol balls from spare lead or other soft metals.
A gold ingot, a bronze ingot, and three copper ingots, plus a bag of marble discs which the Diggers use as currency and a jade sculpture of a four-fingered hand. The final bag is filled with tins of food, all unmarked and produced by the Diggers; the tins are mostly mushroom soup, but two contain stewed rat meat. What Cloud finds rather depends on which bag he's looking through.
The Diggers don't have magic of their own, so none of the items in the tank are enchanted, but the tank itself is surprisingly advanced in certain areas- the coal-fired engine is incredibly efficient, and they mass-produced wheel-lock pistols- humanity didn't do that.
She also has a small bag of mixed coins, a silver amulet shaped like a skull with chips of jet set into the eyesockets.
Cloud's main thing is using his halo(s) in unlikely ways. Throwing it as a razor-sharp chakram, detonating it like a bomb, lassoing an escaping foe, riding it like a surfboard, etc.
But he also has a wide variety of miraculous cleric powers.
"He's not nearly on Message's level, though. He can't make clerics out of people, but perhaps he could empower one person as a Consort or Messenger if he felt very strongly about it." He doesn't.
"A fiery halo. Heat, fire, light? He'll have to find out for himself what it means exactly, but at least his halo makes for a good divine symbol. Though it might behave a bit oddly now that it's special. It might become even more unruly than merely slipping down like it has, alive like the snakes on the Caduceus. Perhaps it'll merely glow, or turn on its side and become his own little sun-disc."
The boy who wasn't yet named Cloud grew up in a big, poor, noisy family in a mining village deep underground, on the shores of a subterranean sea. He didn't have a knack for much except getting into trouble. He dreamed of the day he could go off to the big city to find his fortune. Maybe even travel to the surface one day.
In time, the boy got involved in a coffee-smuggling operation with ludicrous profit margins and even more ludicrous risks. After several circuits, by accident or sabotage, there was a colossal blast of light and the ship was reduced to matchsticks and scrap. A handful of survivors paddled a lifeboat desperately towards where they hoped the nearest shore was. Food ran low. Disliked coworkers went on the menu, followed shortly by friends. Two starving monsters that had once been smugglers made it ashore. The hunger had changed them. It would never quite leave. The cold, too, had changed them. They were not quite human anymore, in body or mind.
So Cloud joined the church, and moved up quickly. His obvious usefulness combined with his seeming inability to tend to even a simple shrine led to a reorganization of the clergy's ranks, and he came to rest at the goddess's left hand, sent out to strike down the wicked, destroy their enemies, and blaze new paths.
His friend Clara made a deal with the Season who had cursed him, and he was unexpectedly restored to his previous human form.
Cloud asked the djinn Pat for power in order to make things easier on Leah and got more than he had hoped for, his mana now fueled by an eternal smokeless flame, and elevated to almost the heights of the deity he served.
Pat snaps her fingers, and for a moment the colors of the world flicker and bend as energy both familiar and entirely alien flows into Cloud. And then he's himself again, only himself is not the same. His halo, held up from his own power. Tremendous skill with a punching ring, his own. A gamut of little divine spells and miracles, well, that's a part of him, too.
Wake up in the morning, maybe itís a hotel bed, maybe itís the temp room of a shrine, maybe itís the back of the tank. Floss and brush your teeth straight away, thatís important. It wasnít easy as a monster but dental hygiene was even more important then. Stretch and do some light exercises. Wash up. Breakfast there. Get on the road. Heal the sick, preach happiness-in-the-moment, cut up zombies. Conjured lunch. Prayer. More of the morning stuff. Dinner somewhere. Socializing, go home with someone. Fall into sleep.