Personality

Silvanus's personality is as ever-changing as the faces he wears, his personality adapting to fit the face he wears that particular day. However, some things remain the same. Silvanus is very secretive, and rarely opens up to others. He is even-tempered and rarely angers, and is often quiet, not wanting to speak fifty words where five would do just as well. He is artistic and creative, and prone to losing himself in his work. 

To those who know his criminal side, a much different picture is presented. Silvanus is strict and harsh at times, demanding of his dues and willing to throw others aside to protect his secret. He can be kind and caring, but if you pose a threat to him or threaten to reveal his secret he will be cruel and have no boundaries in what he will do to keep himself safe. 

However, he does not like to take such drastic measures. He is happiest painting, or selling his wares. His absentmindedness when painting can be considered a fault, but he is also perceptive and watchful. No one can steal his works from under his nose. He is fair when haggling, caring less about making large profits than being able to recoup his costs. Perhaps unsurprisingly, with a power like his, he is also quite vain.

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History

Jasper was born to an extended family of artists, the eldest of the grandchildren. As non-mages, they took pride in their work, at how their paintings were so lifelike that the characters might fly from the canvas, how their sculptures could capture sheer fabric and exquisite intricacies of expression, how their actors and dancers could move an audience to tears. They did not need magic in order to astound and amaze. Though they weren't against mages in general, they did not want mages in their troupe, to show up the non-mages. 

 Jasper's talents for painting became apparent when he was young, around seven years old. His mother, Miriam, gave him to his aunt, Lillian, to apprentice under. She taught him how to properly wield paint and brush, to bring a still image into clarity and focus. His paintings of landscapes and still objects were good, but his portraits were exquisite. They captured the beauties of the body, the anatomy of both mage and non-mage, even moving into the realm of fantasy, and yet that fantasy was realistic and beautiful. 

When he was fifteen, he was working on a self portrait, looking at his image in the mirror, wishing that his body was more willowy like the dancers in his family, for he hated his stocky body and all it could not do with the grace of his cousins and siblings. He painted a few more strokes and looked into the mirror, expecting to see his usual self in the reflection-

But he was different. Gone was the heavier musculature, the thickly boned legs- instead, he was taller, his body thinner, his legs more delicate. He gasped, watching as his lack of concentration forced him back into his own skin. He concentrated, picturing the image in his mind, blending together muscle, bone, tendon, and feather, and suddenly a massive pair of green wings hung from his side. Silvanus grinned, his soul taken over by delight, and then he heard a suspicious thud behind him.

His aunt Lillian lay unconscious behind him, shocked at the wings growing from her nephew's flanks. 

From that day, Jasper was distanced from his family. They still loved him, since they did not hate mages, and he was still one of their own, but he was looked over, ignored slightly in favor of his non-mage relatives. His paintings, once highly praised, now were criticized because he must have used his magic as a reference- something the troupe did not approve of. The family head now rarely offered Jasper's paintings up for sale, and if they did, they were at discounted prices. Something that had been rare and treasured now become a commodity, selling for scarcely higher than the apprentices' work. The love his family showed him did not measure up to how they treated his works, and while Jasper's cut of his profits remained the same, the money he received was far less than before. 

So, at eighteen, he left. He ventured into the south, departing from his family's traveling troupe, and found a teacher in the Wild Clans. For five years, he studied his magic, studying anatomy and physiology, so that his artistic eye might combine with the knowledge it took to create functional forms, whose wings actually flapped and whose antlers did not rot due to lack of blood supply. 

When he finished his magical apprenticeship at the age of 23, he was offered a place in the Clan, but Jasper's heart longed for the open road again, and, with his scant savings, he purchased a wagon, a few supplies, and canvases and paints, setting off once again to follow his own path. 

Under a new name, Silvanus, and a new form, granted to him by his own ceremonies, he took to the roads of Ivras, selling his paintings to earn a profit, and offering his other artworks- living, breathing disguises that cannot be removed, either to help people become who they want to be, or to hide the identity of those in dire straits- to those in the know. While not overly wealthy, Silvanus has enough money to live comfortably, and his skills allow him cuts of profits from those who would perform less-than-honorable ways of earning a living. 

To most these days, Silvanus is a talented painter- nothing more. His scales and fins are from a brush of magic whilst he was in the womb, most unfortunate, but not because of any magic he has himself. However, those who are in need of a fresh start or a body that matches what they know themselves to be have heard of his alias- the Giver of Faces- and will come and find him to receive his help. 

Now, with the Archon in charge and unrest spreading across Ivras, Silvanus is more cautious than ever, keeping to the shadowy recesses of taverns and inns, helping only those he can trust to be truthful and honest with him- and none that could land him in deep shit. He simply can't afford to be caught and dragged to the Order in chains.

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