Vellos Ahrim of Istan
08-14-09, 10:32 AM
Name: Vellos Ahrim of Istan
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Nationality: Fallien
Alignment: Chaotic Evil, Mitra Fanatic
Age: 26
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 160 pounds
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Dark Brown
Appearance:
“I only saw a glimpse of his face, it was a mere second before he struck me down, but it was enough to fill my heart with horror. Such a keen face, such charismatic features, and so much blight and abhorrence in his eyes that made a monster of what could have been so…human…” – Irrakam (Spice)Tradesman, Mikar L’endul
A clean shaped and trimmed goatee mark the chin of Vellos Ahrim Istan’s face, before both his typical Fallienese nose and glinting eyes disappear in the shadow of his hooded robe.
His skin is typically, strongly tanned as that of most of Fallien’s populous – and he is thus rather immune to the scorching sun, unlike most that do not hail from the country.
His physique is easily described as lean and muscular, providing him with the agility and strength that not many have in this combination, although his leg muscling is extraordinary due to his training in the sands of Fallien. Whilst mottled in dark grey robes at most times, the Mitra Cult often wrap themselves in one’s of shining white during daytime assaults. The fierce desert sun reflected by the fabrics often blinds their foes and gives the Mitra warriors an advantage in battle. Ahrim of Istan usually adapts to the situation as do his brethren.
Features that do not change though, are both the cut of the robe – an arm free dress -, as well as the many spiked and bladed gauntlets and rings affixed around his extremities. From his elbows extrude a set of (steel) spikes, on his upper and lower arms he wears a set of thin rings with spikes applied to them – making it hard for anyone to grapple him without injuring themselves. Whilst poison could be applied to the spikes at all times, Vellos chooses to do this only on special occasions.
Concealed beneath his robe are steel capped knee guards, a double advantage; on one hand protecting him, on the other increasing the amount of pain a thrust of his knee can cause due to the squared edges.
His footwear turns out to be typical for the region, sturdy leather with many small slits to allow the sand to pass through and not gather in endless amounts around the foot. You can imagine his shoes as a mixture of rather closed sandals, lacing up to his knees.
Personality:
“The hate he spat his words with sent a chill down my spine, it paralyzed me…within seconds he was upon us like a sandstorm. There was nothing we could do. The day still haunts me, and the faces of my fallen comrades plague my sleep, begging for help that wasn’t coming. But what was I supposed to do!? I know I am a coward, but had I stopped running, had I turned only once more, had I not ignored their beckoning cries of anguish I too would be food for the harpies by now! Damn the Mitra! Damn them!” - Astaka officer, guardsman to an Outlander Trade Caravans, Abd El Marrakesh
Few words are necessary to describe Ahrim of Istan’s mannerisms. He is a quiet, brooding, and remorseless creature, whilst creature is to be all but a synonym for human. Ahrim of Istan is said to not possess a heart, or any moral boundaries for that matter. He speaks little, mostly only when of necessity, and preferably only to those of similar standpoint – and there are few outside of his cult. As most followers of the Cult of Mitra, Vellos Ahrim of Istan is no exception to a commonly spread demeanor, always wary – preying on the weakness of those around him. His voice is intimidating and low, but mostly calm. Yet when enraged or enmeshed in battle his mouth becomes a waterfall of forsaking chants and damning insults. Whilst he shares the xenophobic trait that every human from Fallien has implemented within themselves, the hate towards any other religious belief or lawful following is added to his distaste by his ideological belief.
Vellos Ahrim of Istan is a fanatic. Punishing those that do not share his belief, and purging the lands from the blasphemy of the traitors is all he truly desires – at what cost is unimportant to him.
Grudges/Anathemas: All beliefs differing from the Mitra Cult, in specific the Jya and Suravani followings.
Items:
- Vials of sorts strapped to his belt with various lethal and less lethal poisons, as well as a fair account of Fallien oils.
Will not be used during battles against other Player Characters
- Poisonous Diary: A logbook of poisons, attached via a chain to his belt, with yet many pages to fill, but with a myriad of useful information nonetheless filled.
For usage perimeters see “Venomous Knowledge” in section: Skills
In Storage:
/
Weapons:
Steel Battle-Scythe (5’7”)
Magic:
“Is not a necessity, in contradiction to faith and cunning, my scythe will demonstrate!“ – Vellos Ahrim of Istan
Skills:
“A true threat to Jya, and versatile in his ways…” – Irrakam official, Tugba Nyosa Varadda
*Skilled Scythe Handling – Relentless training under harsh and unforgiving Elders of the Scythe has made Ahrim a formidable warrior, although there is still much he can learn.
Skill will rise proportionally with level.
*Varmakkalai – (See Rough Guide to Fallien, Ed. 1 – VII, Military, c-Fighting Techniques)
*Bandesh – (See above…)
*Increased Physical Capacity – Through generations the eyes of those living in the “Ruins” have adapted to “deserts blight”. Their eyes have grown strong, almost impervious to the dazzling sun and ever swayed sands. Thus things such as their eye sight is in “normal” conditions heightened compared to that of an ordinary human.
*High Endurance – Endurance training in the sense of sprinting through sand several hours. Difficult footing and the blazing sun of Fallien’s deserts has made Ahrim of Istan attain an almost inhuman level of endurance. He can run for several miles without tiring, and thus usually is able to set the pace in battles.
The skill rises proportionally logical to level, nothing unrealistic.
*Falter Resistance – Due to the fanatic indoctrination of his Cult’s priests, Vellos Ahrim of Istan has become a fatal warrior who’s mind is too hard to budge for any amateur. Mind affecting spells or any other behavior disheveling magic would be unlikely to affect him if in a wary state of mind. (Caster would need to be 1 level higher for half effect, 2 levels higher for full effect.)
Skill rises proportionally with level, and thus becomes gradually stronger.
*High Pain Tolerance – Battle hardened and indoctrinated to carry out his doings to the bitter end. Having undergone pain suppression training like other Mitra warriors via poison and physical beating to several degrees, Ahrim of Istan has learned, as his brothers, to suppress pain extremely well. He will not do much as but budge or bat an eyelash at a punch square in the face by someone equally strong. Nevertheless he will withdraw when injuries begin to compromise his body’s wellbeing extremely, such as large gashes and hard jabs to vulnerable organs, he simply won’t withdraw as fast as your average human warrior would.
*Venomous Knowledge- Something every Cult of Mitra follower learns, the art of poisoning. It is practiced almost religiously, and every follower possesses some sort of logbook for all the poisons he has learned. Most warriors learn to apply poisons to their weaponry in order to attain advantages in battle, most others usually learn to create poisons applied to covertly kill people in assassinations via the consummation of fluids by the touch of something. That is a far more difficult version of poisoning, as the substance itself needs to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Currently Ahrim of Istan’s knowledge reaches so far, as that he is able to produce lethal poisons, but only to a certain extent. Most of his poisoning skills still only hover around in the areas between nauseating and temporarily paralyzing poisons. He is still at a beginner’s level compared to many elders of the Cult.
**Scorching Enlightment – This is a status similar to trance, into which Vellos falls if he is angered immensely or wounded greatly. His physical attributes multiply in a sense sheer unthinkable to any normal human being. Istan becomes enabled to smash and drive his fist through objects of very dense (hard) material. His reflexes and speed also enhance immensely, in fact his entire physical aspect multiplies itself for a certain amount of time. Additionally his sensory becomes numb, blending out all sorts of pain and other disturbances. The downside of awakening from this fit of rage when being wounded greatly is that he will then feel the full effect of his wounds, if not [B]double, just as any other human. This means that his abnormal pain tolerance will be void. The result of this could possibly even be fatal/mortal depending on the dimension/extent of the damage done to his body.
Characteristic Information:
- His pupils dishevel and then melt away like some sort of mucky fluid. What is left visible is the white of his eye. Vellos will begin to speak in an arcane language, reciting chants of Mitra every now any then, making him seem no longer in possession or control of what he is doing and succumbed only to the primal urge to destroy. Meaning that his thirst for blood(shed) and his lust for violence will increase. This usually results in his favoring of using his own body to butcher and dispose of his opponent rather than using his primary weapon, the scythe.
Specific Information:
- Example of Power: Under the effect of “Scorching Enlightment” Vellos Ahrim Istan is able to smash/break/tear apart a tier 1 metal with ease.
[Though by realistic matter, once metal surpasses Tier 4 Vellos Ahrim of Istan will at most be able to bend the material, and not shatter it. This however only counts for metallic materials, cloth, bone and wood will remain destructable beyond level 4.]
(Power linked with Level)
- Duration: 1 posts. (Duration linked with Level)
Duration and power both increase proportionally with each gained level.
Notes:
(*) = Passive Ability
(**) = Circumstantial Ability
- Vellos Ahrim of Istan does not possess a single, truly magical ability. Thus his physical abilities are to be considered above average.
History:
“…Nyakka Tuga Kelehk, Rayuh of Kamadan, Ahrkare Merkur Varakka, Vellos Ahrim of Istan, Ahman Sebbet Naguhr, Sekarha Mach’ur of Sebbek, Vishna MinRa, Akratra Iris of Medor…”
Their eyes peered forth solemnly, almost lifeless, waiting for something that seemed an eternity.
“Prodigies of Mitra, enemies of Jya.”
Nothing moved, not even a grain of sand dared letting itself be carried by the wind. It was an uneasy silence for anyone not familiar with the sermon that was taking place. Bowls filled with oil mixtures blazed purple flames skyward in a dancing, jittering manner, shooing up shadows against the walls. Fragrances released by the oils soothed the setting, spices of most exotic type. A myriad of robed figures, at least 40 to the count, remained still, heads lowered, each kneeling before their scythe, perfectly aligned towards the podium.
“You have been blessed with the knowledge of truth, perfected with the wisdom of Mitra...”
The speaker carried forth words that filled the silent crowd before him with pride, their breasts swelling up visibly, but their mouths remaining still.
“…and you have been hardened by the sun, turned into a dangerous and lethal shard by its relentless blaze, you have become the lethal weapon at Mitra’s side – you have become the most valuable of tools in the aid to rid this world of false belief, of Jya and her sympathizers!”
The speaker paused, passing his gaze into the eyes of those kneeling before him.
“El Ahk! Il Nihr! Maha er Mitra!“
The crowd dashed their hands forward from behind their backs, grappled their scythes and swung them in an arc before slamming the shafts into the ground. A whirlwind of sand shot about, flames hissing and crackling as the dry matter passed through them. It was miraculous that none of the wielders decapitated either person to their side during this action, but everything seemed perfectly calculated within their movements, there wasn’t a single shuffle, a single error, let alone the split second of a hesitation. Having buried the bladeless side of their weapon in the sand, they began to chant.
“El Ahk! Il Koh Noihr! Maha er Mitra!”
Over and over, louder with each time, the flames in the oil bowls still shivering from the sudden rush of 40 people to their feet, though it almost seemed as if the world around them was being intimidated by their arcane reciting. Though all once again came to undisturbed silence with the sudden thud of an oversized drum, the base wave shivered the architecture and sand sifted from the cracks of the ruined buildings in immediate proximity.
“You all have learned what is necessary to begin growing with your own force, and in the name of Mitra. Each of you has been informed with tasks that await their dealing with, some of you may venture distant, whilst others will shield our brethren from imminent threats…”
The crowd remained silent as the speaker stepped down from his podium, sand crunching beneath his steps.
“You are not warriors. You are not soldiers. You are nothing. You are shadows. You are rays of light. You are the death bringing. You are the aid to the beckoning of Mitra. You are the scorching light that sears right through the hearts of our enemies. Your weapons will not harm lives, they will shatter them. You will not kill, you will slaughter what stands against you. You will not stop at any cause, be it your own death, to carry out the bidding of our cause. Hail Mitra! Koh Noihr!”
At those words the room emptied itself, scythe wielders spun on their heels and exited the auditorium, leaving behind flickering flames in a quiet room and a malicious grin on the speakers face.
[El Ahk: He is the Sun // Il Koh Noihr: He sears the night // Maha er Mitra: The remorseless Mitra]
History will be revised with time, but the core essence of it will remain, through which the story itself will not change. Regard this history of a first edition of what will end up more elaborate with time and the growing of the Cult of Mitra.
Additionally, if I am to make any changes - please notify me via PM. Thank you.
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Nationality: Fallien
Alignment: Chaotic Evil, Mitra Fanatic
Age: 26
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 160 pounds
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Dark Brown
Appearance:
“I only saw a glimpse of his face, it was a mere second before he struck me down, but it was enough to fill my heart with horror. Such a keen face, such charismatic features, and so much blight and abhorrence in his eyes that made a monster of what could have been so…human…” – Irrakam (Spice)Tradesman, Mikar L’endul
A clean shaped and trimmed goatee mark the chin of Vellos Ahrim Istan’s face, before both his typical Fallienese nose and glinting eyes disappear in the shadow of his hooded robe.
His skin is typically, strongly tanned as that of most of Fallien’s populous – and he is thus rather immune to the scorching sun, unlike most that do not hail from the country.
His physique is easily described as lean and muscular, providing him with the agility and strength that not many have in this combination, although his leg muscling is extraordinary due to his training in the sands of Fallien. Whilst mottled in dark grey robes at most times, the Mitra Cult often wrap themselves in one’s of shining white during daytime assaults. The fierce desert sun reflected by the fabrics often blinds their foes and gives the Mitra warriors an advantage in battle. Ahrim of Istan usually adapts to the situation as do his brethren.
Features that do not change though, are both the cut of the robe – an arm free dress -, as well as the many spiked and bladed gauntlets and rings affixed around his extremities. From his elbows extrude a set of (steel) spikes, on his upper and lower arms he wears a set of thin rings with spikes applied to them – making it hard for anyone to grapple him without injuring themselves. Whilst poison could be applied to the spikes at all times, Vellos chooses to do this only on special occasions.
Concealed beneath his robe are steel capped knee guards, a double advantage; on one hand protecting him, on the other increasing the amount of pain a thrust of his knee can cause due to the squared edges.
His footwear turns out to be typical for the region, sturdy leather with many small slits to allow the sand to pass through and not gather in endless amounts around the foot. You can imagine his shoes as a mixture of rather closed sandals, lacing up to his knees.
Personality:
“The hate he spat his words with sent a chill down my spine, it paralyzed me…within seconds he was upon us like a sandstorm. There was nothing we could do. The day still haunts me, and the faces of my fallen comrades plague my sleep, begging for help that wasn’t coming. But what was I supposed to do!? I know I am a coward, but had I stopped running, had I turned only once more, had I not ignored their beckoning cries of anguish I too would be food for the harpies by now! Damn the Mitra! Damn them!” - Astaka officer, guardsman to an Outlander Trade Caravans, Abd El Marrakesh
Few words are necessary to describe Ahrim of Istan’s mannerisms. He is a quiet, brooding, and remorseless creature, whilst creature is to be all but a synonym for human. Ahrim of Istan is said to not possess a heart, or any moral boundaries for that matter. He speaks little, mostly only when of necessity, and preferably only to those of similar standpoint – and there are few outside of his cult. As most followers of the Cult of Mitra, Vellos Ahrim of Istan is no exception to a commonly spread demeanor, always wary – preying on the weakness of those around him. His voice is intimidating and low, but mostly calm. Yet when enraged or enmeshed in battle his mouth becomes a waterfall of forsaking chants and damning insults. Whilst he shares the xenophobic trait that every human from Fallien has implemented within themselves, the hate towards any other religious belief or lawful following is added to his distaste by his ideological belief.
Vellos Ahrim of Istan is a fanatic. Punishing those that do not share his belief, and purging the lands from the blasphemy of the traitors is all he truly desires – at what cost is unimportant to him.
Grudges/Anathemas: All beliefs differing from the Mitra Cult, in specific the Jya and Suravani followings.
Items:
- Vials of sorts strapped to his belt with various lethal and less lethal poisons, as well as a fair account of Fallien oils.
Will not be used during battles against other Player Characters
- Poisonous Diary: A logbook of poisons, attached via a chain to his belt, with yet many pages to fill, but with a myriad of useful information nonetheless filled.
For usage perimeters see “Venomous Knowledge” in section: Skills
In Storage:
/
Weapons:
Steel Battle-Scythe (5’7”)
Magic:
“Is not a necessity, in contradiction to faith and cunning, my scythe will demonstrate!“ – Vellos Ahrim of Istan
Skills:
“A true threat to Jya, and versatile in his ways…” – Irrakam official, Tugba Nyosa Varadda
*Skilled Scythe Handling – Relentless training under harsh and unforgiving Elders of the Scythe has made Ahrim a formidable warrior, although there is still much he can learn.
Skill will rise proportionally with level.
*Varmakkalai – (See Rough Guide to Fallien, Ed. 1 – VII, Military, c-Fighting Techniques)
*Bandesh – (See above…)
*Increased Physical Capacity – Through generations the eyes of those living in the “Ruins” have adapted to “deserts blight”. Their eyes have grown strong, almost impervious to the dazzling sun and ever swayed sands. Thus things such as their eye sight is in “normal” conditions heightened compared to that of an ordinary human.
*High Endurance – Endurance training in the sense of sprinting through sand several hours. Difficult footing and the blazing sun of Fallien’s deserts has made Ahrim of Istan attain an almost inhuman level of endurance. He can run for several miles without tiring, and thus usually is able to set the pace in battles.
The skill rises proportionally logical to level, nothing unrealistic.
*Falter Resistance – Due to the fanatic indoctrination of his Cult’s priests, Vellos Ahrim of Istan has become a fatal warrior who’s mind is too hard to budge for any amateur. Mind affecting spells or any other behavior disheveling magic would be unlikely to affect him if in a wary state of mind. (Caster would need to be 1 level higher for half effect, 2 levels higher for full effect.)
Skill rises proportionally with level, and thus becomes gradually stronger.
*High Pain Tolerance – Battle hardened and indoctrinated to carry out his doings to the bitter end. Having undergone pain suppression training like other Mitra warriors via poison and physical beating to several degrees, Ahrim of Istan has learned, as his brothers, to suppress pain extremely well. He will not do much as but budge or bat an eyelash at a punch square in the face by someone equally strong. Nevertheless he will withdraw when injuries begin to compromise his body’s wellbeing extremely, such as large gashes and hard jabs to vulnerable organs, he simply won’t withdraw as fast as your average human warrior would.
*Venomous Knowledge- Something every Cult of Mitra follower learns, the art of poisoning. It is practiced almost religiously, and every follower possesses some sort of logbook for all the poisons he has learned. Most warriors learn to apply poisons to their weaponry in order to attain advantages in battle, most others usually learn to create poisons applied to covertly kill people in assassinations via the consummation of fluids by the touch of something. That is a far more difficult version of poisoning, as the substance itself needs to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Currently Ahrim of Istan’s knowledge reaches so far, as that he is able to produce lethal poisons, but only to a certain extent. Most of his poisoning skills still only hover around in the areas between nauseating and temporarily paralyzing poisons. He is still at a beginner’s level compared to many elders of the Cult.
**Scorching Enlightment – This is a status similar to trance, into which Vellos falls if he is angered immensely or wounded greatly. His physical attributes multiply in a sense sheer unthinkable to any normal human being. Istan becomes enabled to smash and drive his fist through objects of very dense (hard) material. His reflexes and speed also enhance immensely, in fact his entire physical aspect multiplies itself for a certain amount of time. Additionally his sensory becomes numb, blending out all sorts of pain and other disturbances. The downside of awakening from this fit of rage when being wounded greatly is that he will then feel the full effect of his wounds, if not [B]double, just as any other human. This means that his abnormal pain tolerance will be void. The result of this could possibly even be fatal/mortal depending on the dimension/extent of the damage done to his body.
Characteristic Information:
- His pupils dishevel and then melt away like some sort of mucky fluid. What is left visible is the white of his eye. Vellos will begin to speak in an arcane language, reciting chants of Mitra every now any then, making him seem no longer in possession or control of what he is doing and succumbed only to the primal urge to destroy. Meaning that his thirst for blood(shed) and his lust for violence will increase. This usually results in his favoring of using his own body to butcher and dispose of his opponent rather than using his primary weapon, the scythe.
Specific Information:
- Example of Power: Under the effect of “Scorching Enlightment” Vellos Ahrim Istan is able to smash/break/tear apart a tier 1 metal with ease.
[Though by realistic matter, once metal surpasses Tier 4 Vellos Ahrim of Istan will at most be able to bend the material, and not shatter it. This however only counts for metallic materials, cloth, bone and wood will remain destructable beyond level 4.]
(Power linked with Level)
- Duration: 1 posts. (Duration linked with Level)
Duration and power both increase proportionally with each gained level.
Notes:
(*) = Passive Ability
(**) = Circumstantial Ability
- Vellos Ahrim of Istan does not possess a single, truly magical ability. Thus his physical abilities are to be considered above average.
History:
“…Nyakka Tuga Kelehk, Rayuh of Kamadan, Ahrkare Merkur Varakka, Vellos Ahrim of Istan, Ahman Sebbet Naguhr, Sekarha Mach’ur of Sebbek, Vishna MinRa, Akratra Iris of Medor…”
Their eyes peered forth solemnly, almost lifeless, waiting for something that seemed an eternity.
“Prodigies of Mitra, enemies of Jya.”
Nothing moved, not even a grain of sand dared letting itself be carried by the wind. It was an uneasy silence for anyone not familiar with the sermon that was taking place. Bowls filled with oil mixtures blazed purple flames skyward in a dancing, jittering manner, shooing up shadows against the walls. Fragrances released by the oils soothed the setting, spices of most exotic type. A myriad of robed figures, at least 40 to the count, remained still, heads lowered, each kneeling before their scythe, perfectly aligned towards the podium.
“You have been blessed with the knowledge of truth, perfected with the wisdom of Mitra...”
The speaker carried forth words that filled the silent crowd before him with pride, their breasts swelling up visibly, but their mouths remaining still.
“…and you have been hardened by the sun, turned into a dangerous and lethal shard by its relentless blaze, you have become the lethal weapon at Mitra’s side – you have become the most valuable of tools in the aid to rid this world of false belief, of Jya and her sympathizers!”
The speaker paused, passing his gaze into the eyes of those kneeling before him.
“El Ahk! Il Nihr! Maha er Mitra!“
The crowd dashed their hands forward from behind their backs, grappled their scythes and swung them in an arc before slamming the shafts into the ground. A whirlwind of sand shot about, flames hissing and crackling as the dry matter passed through them. It was miraculous that none of the wielders decapitated either person to their side during this action, but everything seemed perfectly calculated within their movements, there wasn’t a single shuffle, a single error, let alone the split second of a hesitation. Having buried the bladeless side of their weapon in the sand, they began to chant.
“El Ahk! Il Koh Noihr! Maha er Mitra!”
Over and over, louder with each time, the flames in the oil bowls still shivering from the sudden rush of 40 people to their feet, though it almost seemed as if the world around them was being intimidated by their arcane reciting. Though all once again came to undisturbed silence with the sudden thud of an oversized drum, the base wave shivered the architecture and sand sifted from the cracks of the ruined buildings in immediate proximity.
“You all have learned what is necessary to begin growing with your own force, and in the name of Mitra. Each of you has been informed with tasks that await their dealing with, some of you may venture distant, whilst others will shield our brethren from imminent threats…”
The crowd remained silent as the speaker stepped down from his podium, sand crunching beneath his steps.
“You are not warriors. You are not soldiers. You are nothing. You are shadows. You are rays of light. You are the death bringing. You are the aid to the beckoning of Mitra. You are the scorching light that sears right through the hearts of our enemies. Your weapons will not harm lives, they will shatter them. You will not kill, you will slaughter what stands against you. You will not stop at any cause, be it your own death, to carry out the bidding of our cause. Hail Mitra! Koh Noihr!”
At those words the room emptied itself, scythe wielders spun on their heels and exited the auditorium, leaving behind flickering flames in a quiet room and a malicious grin on the speakers face.
[El Ahk: He is the Sun // Il Koh Noihr: He sears the night // Maha er Mitra: The remorseless Mitra]
History will be revised with time, but the core essence of it will remain, through which the story itself will not change. Regard this history of a first edition of what will end up more elaborate with time and the growing of the Cult of Mitra.
Additionally, if I am to make any changes - please notify me via PM. Thank you.