<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Anaximander</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/0c/9334683-portrait-of-handsome-man-with-long-hair.jpg)<br/></div><strong>Name:</strong> Anaximander (“Mandy” if you absolutely must) (birth name Martin Chore)<br/><strong>Sex:</strong> male<br/><strong>Concept:</strong> poor little rich boy/perpetual student<br/><strong>Path:</strong> Acanthus<br/><strong>Order:</strong> Mysterium<br/><strong>Virtue:</strong> Hope<br/><strong>Vice:</strong> Lust (interpreted primarily as an unhealthy thirst for knowledge)<br/><br/><strong>Physical Description:</strong> 6’2”, thin, hazel eyes, longish brown hair, carefully trimmed stubble—the grunge look 20 years too late<br/><br/><strong>Personality:</strong> Anaximander is a nice guy, a good listener, who manipulates people by telling them the truth as he wants them to hear it. He is a bit conflict-averse and will try to mediate disputes even when his mediation is unwanted.<br/><br/><strong>History:</strong> Martin Chore was born with an entire silver tea service in his mouth, his mother a CEO traded between Fortune 500 companies like a ballplayer, his father a business consultant in the petroworld. Having borne a child just to prove she was a “real woman” as well as a financial shark, mother had no idea what to do with Martin, and father was never home; Martin was raised by nannies and au pairs, and attended the best boarding schools. He was a sufficiently gifted student to have attracted unpleasant attention from his peers, but he made an effort to be outgoing and friendly, and managed to avoid the worst bullying as a result.<br/><br/>Martin’s parents had no concrete expectations for him, since there was no family business to inherit; thus he was permitted to do whatever he wanted after reaching adulthood, and what he wanted to do was study. He skipped through half a dozen majors in college before settling on linguistics, and eventually pursued graduate study in that field. His fieldwork in northern Pakistan, studying the near-extinct Burushaski language, set the chain of thoughts in motion that would lead to his Awakening. Burushaski is a “linguistic isolate,” unrelated to any other language on Earth, but Martin found in it tantalizing hints of a larger scheme of language and thought, a proto-language dramatically different from any postulated by contemporary theories.<br/><br/>It was after returning from Pakistan, however, that Martin actually touched the Supernal. During a drunken bout of elevator-surfing with some engineering students, the elevator he was riding kept going up, and up, and up, far past where the roof of the building had to be. He dropped back into the cab, but could not find the “stop” button; in fact, the walls of the elevator cab seemed to have been overgrown with silver thorns and foliage. The bell rang, and the doors opened on a moonlit rooftop garden. At its center was a reflecting pool encircled by ornate runes inlaid in the pavement. One of them was missing, so Martin pricked his finger on a thorn and drew in the character that logically had to be there. He returned to his senses in the elevator cab, with his friends shouting his name.<br/><br/>The Mysterium found him within days after his Awakening, and he received his basic magical training in the New York City Consilium. After some thought, Martin took the shadow name “Anaximander,” after a pre-Socratic Greek natural philosopher, tutor of Pythagoras, who postulated that infinite worlds are created from boundless ultimate reality and destroyed according to necessity.<br/><br/>After successfully defending his thesis, Martin received a call from a recruiter for the NSA. Divination told him that his destiny lay in that direction, so he turned his Prospect Park condo over to a leasing agent and departed for the Norfolk, VA naval base. He purchased a dilapidated mansion, nearly uninhabitable, on several acres of overgrown land, and set about renovating it as a Sanctum, one piece at a time. A local mystagogue called “Orchid” has joined him, contributing effort in the renovation and care of the minor Hallow in the root cellar in lieu of rent.<br/><br/>The Dots (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=583497)<br/></div></div>