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Crustacean » Lair » Tremain
Level 25
Skydancer Male
Jun 03, 2014 (5 years)
Stats Growth
PrimaryCrimson Piebald
SecondaryBlood Paint
TertiaryDenim Basic
Eye TypeShadow Unusual
Energy: 46 / 50
Apparel & Skins
Head Doctor

+ Altruistic, idealistic, dedicated
- Insecure, stubborn, overzealous

"Knowing what we know, knowing what we do not know... this is going to change our world."



No one thought Tremain would live to see adulthood. He had simply been born too late, too small, and too sickly. Every chill in the air brought fevers, and the slightest exertion left him breathless. And, as if to add insult to injury, Tremain's wings were stunted, twisted and small. He would never be able to fly. For a Skydancer, that was practically a death sentence in itself.

And yet, Tremain survived. He clung stubbornly to life, almost seeming to thrive on defying the expectations of his family. But while his peers were out making friends and enjoying their youths, Tremain spent most of his time too sick to leave his home. Instead, he found his escape in books. Any genre, any subject, he would happily read anything. It offered a welcome distraction, a break from the monotony, but more than that, it offered an opportunity to learn, and that gave him hope. Hope that someday, perhaps, he could be more than this. More than a burden on a small family in a small town in the backwoods. It wasn't long before Tremain decided on a particular area of study: he was going to become a doctor. His family cautiously encouraged his ambition, and with their blessing, he threw himself fully into his studies. Years of hard work paid dividends in the form of a scholarship. A university in the Sunbeam Ruins offered him the opportunity for further his education, and he jumped at the chance. Tremain packed his things, said his goodbyes, and left the Driftwood Drag behind him forever.

Tremain made few friends during his time at university. Between his frail constitution, the sunlight (painfully bright for eyes more adapted to shadow) and his habit of burying himself in work, he hardly left his room except to attend classes. It didn't take long for rumors to abound about the reclusive scholarship student. For some of his classmates, his presence alone was offensive enough- a Shadowborn, here, in the Ruins? But more than that, Tremain simply never made much of an effort to be liked. He made no secret of the fact that his work took precedence above all else. He knew people talked, of course. He knew what they said, and he remembered every comment about his eyes, his wings, the way he talked, the way he carried himself. But he also knew that it was only temporary. Once he'd graduated, once he'd proven himself, they'd see the error of their ways.

Tremain left the Ruins almost as soon as he'd graduated. He wasn't about to go home, but the Tangled Wood offered a familiar place for him to begin his practice. A humble traveling tent became his home and office, and he spent his days wandering the forest. He traveled between villages and settlements, offering his services to anyone who needed them. He charged his patients only what they were able to pay- no more, and no less. Over time, he began to make a name for himself. People still talked, but now they talked about an eccentric wandering healer, a good doctor, certainly... but a bit strange. Tremain heard the rumors, remembered them, and kept on wandering. Eventually, though, the inevitable happened: Tremain ran out of woods to wander. Standing on the edge of the Wandering Contagion, staring out over the putrefacting wastes, Tremain couldn't help feeling like he had finally found his way home.

Tremain formally founded the Hospital shortly after crossing the border. His practice had already outgrown his tent, but that was fine. A decent contractor is a difficult thing to find out in the desert, but enough gold can make any process a little smoother. And once the Hospital started growing, it didn't stop. Tremain continued working, funneling the money he earned directly back into the Hospital, spending it on construction and supplies and pay for bright-eyed new employees. It didn't take long for it to outgrow Tremain's original plans. It was enormous, built from white bricks that almost shone in the sunlight. It was prepared to recieve and house as many patients as possible, and at Tremain's constant (and often meddlesome) insistence, it was state-of-the-art.

But success wasn't enough for Tremain. He had to prove himself. He had to do something big, something challenging, something that would shake the scientific community to its core. And he did. The Afterlife Project, in Tremain's mind, would revolutionize sornieth's understanding of medicine and healing. It would blur the line between magic and science, and prove that hard work could perform the same miracles as the often unpredictable and dangerous arcane arts. It would change the way the world looked at life and death, reunite families, cement his place in the annals of history...

And, as Tremain's projects tended to do, it got out of hand. A single mistake was all it took to cause an outbreak. Once all was said and done, Tremain was directly responsible for dozens of accidental deaths, disappearances, and an outbreak that affected nearly twenty settlements. Not to mention the creation of potentially hundreds of undead- something that directly spat in the face of the Plaguebringer, goddess of survival. He was decried as a necromancer, a madman, a dangerous fool. He was banned from returning to the university. Warrants were put out for his arrest. His already shaky reputation had been completely ruined. His beloved Hospital was left a shell of its former self.

Left alone in the Abiding Boneyard with nothing but an empty building, a growing horde of monsters to care for, and his last remaining friend, Tremain got to work. There was no time to dispair. He was far too busy for that. They would just have to start again, he decided. With some more resilient employees this time. He could fix this. He could make things right.

Yes, he would show them. He would show them all.



Tremain's reputation may be in shambles within the scientific community, but fortunately, the scientific community is a long way away from the Abiding Boneyard. He and his establishment have never been fully accepted by most followers of the Plaguebringer, but he has carved out a unique niche in the wasteland, gathering those seeking answers and cures for their ills. Tremain feels a certain kinship with the sick and downtrodden, and he truly wants to make the world a better place. He tries to be the person he wishes he'd had in his life when he was younger. He's always considerate and courteous to his patients, and can be fiercely protective of them when the need arises. He treats his fellow doctors just as well: as far as Tremain is concerned, their well-being comes first.

While he means well, though, Tremain isn't always the most attentive person. Trying to hold a conversation with him can be like talking to a very chatty steamroller. He's always been a little self-absorbed, and casually ignoring the opinions of others has become like second nature. In addition, he loves to talk, and will happily go on for hours. It almost doesn't matter if anyone is listening. Tremain is so used to people walking out mid-conversation that he hardly notices anymore. Once something does catch his attention, though, his absent-mindedness turns to almost manic hyperfocus. It's not unheard of for him to disappear for days at a time, forgetting work, food and sleep in favor of his latest project. Once Tremain has started something, he can't let go of it, even when he knows he should. His insecurity and need to prove himself and fix things can take precedence over common sense, often at the expense of everything around him.

Regardless, Tremain isn't all flaws. He's the head doctor for a reason, after all. In certain circles, he's (perhaps begrudgingly) considered a genius, if a misguided one. He's caring, hardworking, and dedicated above all else. And everything he does, he does with a dogged, apparently endless enthusiasm. "Taking a break" is a foreign concept. Tremain can sleep when he's dead. Right now, he's got too much to do, and too many people who need him!

Notes wrote:
- Learning is still one of Tremain's great passions, and he's amassed an impressive library over the years. He welcomes visitors to the Hospital to take advantage of its resources. He's always happy to see people taking an interest in literature- and to have the chance to show off a little.

- There are a great many things Tremain tries to hide; among them, his normal accent. He believes it makes him sound hickish and uneducated, and instead affects one that he thinks is more becoming of a gentleman scientist.

- Tremain harbors a deep-seated fear of heights, in large part due to his inability to fly. He goes to great lengths to hide it, and would be absolutely mortified if anyone found out.

- Tremain has greatly enjoyed Royal's presence at the Hospital. It's rare that someone actually takes an interest in his work. Tremain greatly enjoys a lot of things about Royal, actually.


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