Aldebaran grew up with the other urchins on the streets and alleyways. Often protected by one that he grew with, patching them up after with what little scraps of medicine knowledge he had. He has always disdained animals, considering them dumb creatures. As such, his studies into death and how the inner workings of the body works often came from them. [! I will not be roleplaying animal cruelty, though it is in his background !]

This rocky childhood brought him to grow up as a distrustful adult, sour in attitude. Intimately familiar with the inner workings of the body and a rather adept surgeon, typically preferring that over magic. Casual use of magic for healing often disgruntles him as a disrespect to the effort of common medicines, preferring to use it only when more dire needs arise. He operates a small, dingy clinic now, offering treatment first and demanding payment after. What payment he takes is inconsistent, often ranging from a crate of supplies to simple gold.

His eyes are an open book. Typically veiled behind the lens of his half mask, strapped to his head. A long white coat mended and patched many times, thin dark gloves that go up to his elbow. Dressing sharply, appearance kept meticulously clean. His voice is rough with smoke, though his teeth are excessively white from treatment.