Sysysphus is a dark figure. Much of his early life is kept hidden. He was born in the year 924, somewhere near the city of Goldheart Oasis. After experiencing great tragedy, he dedicated himself to the cause of the god Hecate. In the year 966 he disappeared, and resurfaced 100 years later, in the year 1066, in a strange dungeon north of Hornfallow, in the country of Sheershire. There he met a rogue named Autolycus, and an ogre named Mugthar.
Some of his hair is gray or white, but some remains blond. His facial features are rough, that of a tired poet; old, long, tall, and ugly. He has light blue eyes. He is missing his right index and middle fingers, which is problematic as he is right-handed in everything other than shooting. He is a strong and disciplined man, capable of working through problems that would hinder other men. He is unusually tall, as an adult, his height is roughly that of 6'3".
Sysysphus is a patient man, rarely acting on instinct. He believes that slow and easy wins the race, but he is by no means to be considered lazy. He believes that those who have become bored with their lives should take to the roads, and explore the world around them. Due to his troubled past however, Sysysphus is prone to brooding silently in his own depression. To alleviate this he will often attempt to bring levity to his surroundings, even if the moment does not warrant such a attempt. Most of the time his humor is perceived as dark and unsympathetic, however this is simply his mind attempting to make the best out of a bad situation. Sysysphus does not believe in waste. He was taught that upon making a kill, to utilize all possible from the corpse. This works well in cohesion with his inherent skills in both Alchemy and Undeath. As a archer he is the same way. He does not believe in wasting precious ammunition, and when it comes to taking a shot, he will take his time in firing. Sysysphus despises monotony, and absolutely hates the repetitive nature of the city life. He strives to overcome this by meeting new people, and traveling the world, while selling his wares.
"In all honesty, my childhood remains somewhat of a mystery to me. My earliest memory is that of flame and terror - screams in the night - heat - broken glass. As I aged I would often find myself awake in the midst of the night, always returning to this scene of madness. What I do know is this - the jackals saved me. Hecate saved me through them. Was it divine intervention or some manner of coincidence? That question permeates all of life for us all, doesn't it? But I digress. For many years as a child I wandered alone in the world. It was in the city however that I learnt my trade. A woman by the name of Enodia took pity on me, the wretched ill mannered feral child I was. She instilled in me the teachings of faith, and the disciplines of hard work. Patience was her greatest gift to me, for it guides me in everything I do. "The key to everything is patience," she would say, "You get the chicken by hatching the egg, not by smashing it." With her tutelage and her blessings, I left her home on a happy note. For the first time in my life I had purpose. I made great coin by selling perfumes and soaps to those higher in class, and by selling explosives to those with other interests. In two circumstances I learnt the price of greed however. Through the desert there lies a trade route only spoken of, never traveled. This part of the wastes is filled with dangerous creatures, and the heat is ungodly. I risked it. The fact that I remain alive today from this journey is due to a odd man by the name of Sitis. As I lay dying on my coffin of sand, it was him who found me, and him who nursed me back to health. He too was a man devout to Hecate, and upon seeing my holy symbol, he taught me how to survive in the desert, and the secrets of the sands. It was by the sea that I lost my fingers. I curse the ocean, and hate it, for the darkest creatures known to us dwell there. At that point in my life I did not fear the sea, because I was not keen on it's dangers. Now I know. I had gone to the ocean to make my bi-annual collection of salts for trade in the nearby towns. I had decided to rest near the ocean, and fall asleep to the sound of the waves hitting the shore. It was a foreign sound to me, but I still found it soothing. As the night progressed, I slept well, but I was awakened by a horrible chittering sound that drew close too fast for comfort. Still half asleep, I jutted upward from my bedding, and beheld a horrific site. A monstrous lobster-man, with pincer claws which snapped and jabbed madly. I was perplexed at first by my reflection in it's mottled carapace. The creature was upon me with such haste. Instinctively I attempted to push the monstrosity away with my bare right hand. Alas, it was folly. Red pain shot through me at first, as the creature dexterously snipped off the fingers I now lack. The pain was not to last however - a fowl poison surged through my veins, numbing my whole body within seconds. I lay there limp, as the monster began to drag me towards a watery grave, where no doubt it would have made a meal of me. My salvation you ask? Ahh... That's a clever secret that I only share with a select few... But humbly trust me in this - I did overcome that fate, because there are far greater tasks that await me in the future."