Arwin Alsh'alt

The Mage of Marketmain Lane

The wall behind Clarissa Statice parts suddenly, as if it consisted of fine silk and cashmere curtains and not of brick and mortar, of any solid material. A man of clear demonic origin steps out and behind him one can see a dark hallway, stairs leading up, shapes in the dark—then the drapes fall back and before anybody can even say anything the hole in the wall is no more.
His features looks like that of a Siamese cat, the colours and their arrangement producing a feline face. His horns are little and are barely visible from under the fluffy, curly mess that the hair on top of his head (the sides perfectly shaved) is. The man raises a cigarette holder—ivory, about 30 centimeters in length, painted red details, used heavily, cleaned often—and takes a drag from the cigarette mounted within. He expells a cloud of violet-coloured smoke.
He is dressed in his laziest—what seems to be a rather dark red suit jacket, a vest of a similar shade, a tie of the same shade, and a white shirt on top. The vest, however, seemesto widen and grow longer than its counterparts and as it moves lower, stopping just short of the floor, it resembles the back half of a skirt or a cloak, stiff but swishing as he walks. The silver belt really brings the outfit together. Those keen of eye notice, however, that he has no shoes on and this is often the case.
As the violet smoke floats up and disperses into the room’s air, Arwin Alsh’alt grins, his fiendish tail raised high behind him.
"You called? Well, I’ve arrived. A pleasure to meet you all.” The man takes out a notepad out of a pocket that can't possibly hold it. “Your names?"

by Pexels

Alsh'alt's shop sells many, many magical components. And a lot of them happen to be in powder form. Incidentally, the shop also sells spices. Gods help you if you mix them up.

A History

Where had our young mage, Mister Alsh'alt, even come from? What do we know of him, except that his mind is so prehensile to the ways of magic? How old is he? Has he any family? One wonders if Alsh'alt is even real at all or merely a persona meant to amuse us into giving the true owners of this lucrative store all of our coins.
Where did our young mage, Mister Alsh'alt, spring forth from? What do we truly know of him, apart from his uncanny affinity for the arcane arts? How old is this enigmatic spellbinder? Does he hold any family secrets? One might even ponder if Alsh'alt is nothing more than a masterful ruse, an illusion woven to charm our purses of their precious coins.
In the bustling heart of our sprawling metropolis, whispers about the enigmatic magician are as frequent as the trills of street vendors hawking their wares. A fleeting glimpse of him in the urban throng, his features reminiscent of a siamese cat with playful horns, might catch the eye. But don't be beguiled – there's more to this conjurer than meets the eye.
His shop, nestled within the labyrinthine alleys of the city, is a spectacle to behold. Amidst the eclectic array of elixirs and oddities, he summons forth mystifying enchantments that leave witnesses spellbound. If fortune favours you, you might even find yourself in the midst of one of his bewitching displays, a witness to the impossible brought to life.
And yet, amidst the dazzle and glamour, Alsh'alt remains an enigma. Beyond his mastery of magic, his origins remain shrouded in secrecy. An immigrant to our sprawling urban expanse, his beginnings are a tapestry of mystery and intrigue. The vessel known as the "Lovely Dagger" deposited him on our bustling shores in 3769 ADK, yet the origins of his journey are known only to him.
Enrolling in the hallowed halls of the Aprisian Academy of the Arcane, he immersed himself in his studies with fervour. Here he had soon exceeded the "limited knowledge which they served [him and other students]" (as Alsh'alt said in a private correspondence, overheard in the autumn of the year 3777). By 3772 ADK, just as he was becoming a familiar face, he vanished like a shadow at dusk, muttering something about "some family business to attend to, really sorry, couldn't be avoided, quite tragic, all right, goodbye!"
However, as if emerging from an illusion, he reappeared three years later. Like a conjurer stepping onto the stage, he unveiled a shop that brims with magical marvels. From spellbound parchment and quills to a sword whose history stretches across legends, his emporium is a treasure trove of the mystical.
But the tales and speculations linger on. Is Mister Alsh'alt a wizard of prodigious power or a maestro of deception, pulling the strings while another dances in the spotlight? The question remains, a puzzle that adds to the allure of our city's enigmatic mage. In this urban theatre of magic and intrigue, only time will unveil the true secrets behind the magician's curtain.

— An op-ed from an edition of the The Moons' Port Volumes.

The main man himself.

Flowers.

Belladonnas imply Pride in the Victorian language of flowers, whilst white Camellias mean 'waiting' in Hanakotoba, a Japanese language of flowers.

Current Location

Wuchun-Morios

Eyes

A misty blue

Hair

Short, curly, cream

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Cream, caramel, and dark brown

Height

195cm