Aurelianus Drak'shal
11-09-12, 04:07 PM
Name: Aurelianus Drak'shal
Alias('s): Aurelius, to his friends. Aran Sicht to his allies, and employers.
Age: 26 years
Race: Tiefling
Hair: Aurelianus' hair is an unkempt mop of dark red-black quills, hanging down to just above his shoulders. He has a bad habit of chewing on these spikes of hair without realising. Every few months he gets irritated by his hair, and simply shears it off with a knife, but no matter the length, he cannot help but resemble a demonic hedgehog.
Eyes: Aurelius' eyes are definitely not those of a normal human. In fact, they are decidedly serpentine. With orbs of purest black, broken by glowing, golden irises, and slit pupils, the tiefling's eyes mark him out as one of the planetouched.
Height: 5' 9''
Weight: 172 lbs
Occupation: Warlock, Seeker of Knowledge, Plane-traveler, Anarchist
Skills: Knife-fighting, deception and subterfuge, emotional manipulation, lore, linguistics (written and spoken: Tradespeak, elvish, Infernal, Aleraran, Dwarvish), literacy, tracking, parkour, sleight of hand, study of portals and transdimensional gateways, artifact restoration (documents, fetishes, totems, jewellery, etc.), trap-detection, stealth, surgery, first aid, pickpocketing
Spell Abilities: Shahab's Lash- This invocation summons a roaring cone or ball of black flame from the palms, which Drak'shal can then launch at his enemies. If any unfortunate is caught in these flames, the Hellfire will cling like liquid, rather than normal fire. Despite his resistance to normal fire, this invocation always leaves Aurelius himself burned, at least a little. To those who manage to extinguish the flames in time, Shahab's Lash only causes moderate burns.
Freki's Shield- This spell allows Aurelius to summon forth a protective bubble of magickal heat, which can deflect missiles, blades, and sometimes even other spells. But, the tiefling is not completely immune to the heat called forth, so he only uses this invocation in short bursts. He can keep it active long enough to stave off a few attacks, though a sufficiently strong one can shatter it. (Usable- twice per thread)
Eldritch Blast- This is a simple invocation all Warlocks know- essentially just a blast of pure arcane energy, which Aurelius has learned to use both defensively and offensively; either blasting at his foes with the force of a strong punch, or smashing aside an incoming blade.
Appearance: His heritage is not as apparent as some of the denizens of his home city, but to most in the many planes he has visited he is a foul half-breed. With his snake-like eyes, a long, black fork-tongue, pronounced fangs, pointed ears and scalpel-sharp finger nails, the tiefling is met with outright hostility by some. But, the most obvious sign of his "tainted" blood are the four black, slender horns rising from his brow like a crown of thorns. Though not as huge, or elaborate as the horns of some others of his kind, they nonetheless set alarms bells ringing with most.
More often than not, Aurelius looks rather weather-worn and roughed up; his unsettling eyes are ringed by bluish circles, a pale contrast to his alabaster flesh; his jaw is usually lined with rough stubble, until he can bother himself shaving; and Aurelianus is usually bruised or cut from some altercation or other. But, if not for all of these, the tiefling might almost pass as handsome. His features are oddly regal-looking, and charming. This, coupled with his mesmerising eyes, makes it usually quite easy to charm women: a common hobby for Aurelius.
His physical fitness makes this easier as well. The Warlock, despite his magickal ability, likes to keep his body toned, and ready for physical combat. He may look slight, but Aurelianus' muscles are toned and well-trained. He's no barbarian, but the tiefling is more than ready for a vicious little knife-fight.
After a lifetime of hard-living, first on the streets of the Hive (Sigil's deadly slums), then later on his travels through the planes, even so far as Baator, and finally to Althanas, the Warlock's body is marred with countless scars. Some are from simple knife-fights, back-alley shivs or battle with fiends; while others are products of Drak'shal's Art- burned by the Hellfire he summons. The most noticable of his scars are the burn marks on his arms, faint from the elbow, getting more noticeable towards his hands. The tiefling's palms are marked from old fires, despite his demonic heritage.
Still, it is in his minor self-mutilation that the Warlock finds pleasure. Aurelius has a liking for piercings and tattoos, his body decorated with plenty of both. He has his right eyebrow pierced with three obsidian rings, volcanic glass from the Hellish realm of Avernus, as well as simple steel bars through his nipples and several small fangs and bones hanging from rings through his elf-like ears. But, nestled among these other earrings is a small gold glyph- one of the four marks of the Anarchists, dangling from his left ear. The other three are hidden about his person, one on a leather cord round his neck, one disguised as a buckle on his right wand-bracer, and the final one has been worked into a ring, worn on his left forefinger: All of these bear minor enchantments, to aid the Anarchist in his faction's work. As for tattoos, these range from kabalistic sigils, mystic runes, barbed vine designs, and tribal markings to simple kill-markings from his days as a hive-ganger, reaching over his shoulders, his back, his torso, and arms- all done in ink, mixed with Aurelianus' own blood. The demonic glyph branded on his left forearm is the mark of the Glaabrezu, Skar'am'bhuls- the source of Drak'shal's Warlock abilities.
Personality: Aurelius believes whole-heartedly in chaos and is as likely to break someone's nose as he is to say "good morning" to them. This volatile nature has, from an early age, brought the tiefling into trouble with law enforcement of every stripe and creed, giving him an almost palpable hatred of authority, and their perverted idea of justice. He would like nothing more than burning every gods-damned court to the ground, preferrably with the self-proclaimed "Judges" still inside.
Now, while he may hate those who believe in "law and order" passionately, the Anarchist is not some simple-minded killer. He has many friends and companions across several planes, and has even managed to make some since arriving in Althanas a few years ago. While rather taciturn at first, once you get through his shell, you'll find a womanising, arrogant, paranoid, power-hungry, young half-fiend with a love of knife fights, and a penchant for burning people and things... it is understandable why many people agree you're safer not penetrating Aurelianus' shell. But, if that's the course you're set on, alcohol does help a great deal.
While the Warlock may try to kill guards and tax collectors on sight, he can be very open and friendly when he needs to appear that way. But, not far under the surface still lives that hive-ganger child who trusts no-one, and killed daily to survive- and that kid has a cruel-streak a mile long. If one were to rouse his ire, they would soon meet the sadistic bastard that inhabits Drak'shal's blood- his demonic side, so to speak. It is better not speaking of the atrocities committed on those who cross the Warlock. Suffice it to say, when your enemy trafficks with demons, your soul is not even safe in Hell.
Earning Aurelius' respect isn't easy as he views the majority of people as idiot whoresons. His exact words on the subject were, "Wouldn't piss on them if they were on fire." And if Aurelius had his way, many of them would be. Always looking for a thrill, or a decent fight, the tiefling is brave to the point of recklessness and never backs down; while this may seem almost heroic to his comrades, it has left the Warlock closer to death than he would like, on more occasions than he would care to recount.
Usual Garments and Armour: The eclectic mix of clothing and armour the Warlock wears mark him out as not being a local of Althanas. Many of the pieces hail from different planes entirely.
His basic clothing consists of a simple leather tunic, leather breeches, fingerless leather gloves and a pair of hobnailed boots. Occasionally, Drak'shal will also be seen wearing his knee-length leather coat- the dark leather being modified with armoured plates, and, like his armour, many straps and buckles. The inside of the coat has been sown with dozens of extra pockets and pouches for storing the multitude of things Aurelius usually has stashed about his person.
Along with these are the collection of fetishes, tokens, fangs, claws, locks of hair (or fur) and mystic knick-knacks the plane-traveler always wears. Round his neck hang many cords, all bearing some form of curious talisman or amulet. The same goes for his wrists and forearms. Some of these could pass for simple jewellery, while others are obviously arcane in nature.
When it comes to armour, though, his attire marks him to be a little different; the tiefling's armour consists of hardened, black leather plates (reinforced throughout with thin strips of bone), held in place with dozens of straps and buckles, and decorated with all sorts of blades, barbs and spikes. To get too close to Aurelius in a fight is an oft-times painful mistake. The suit protects his left arm thoroughly, with a series of interlocking plates, leaving the right bare for no apparent reason (with the exception of the special bracers worn), along with the torso, thighs, shins and shoulders. This asymmetrical armour is further modified with the addition of certain kill trophies, and collected mementos; numerous fangs, claws and even ears hang all over his frame.
Without doubt, though, his bracers are the tiefling's proudest creation- a work of genius, if you were to ask him. Running down the centre of each bracer, held fast by steel rings, is a slim wand, each carved from the bones of dead mages, and intricately scrimshawed with glyphs of power. These wand-bracers allow Aurelius to augment his Warlock invocations, adding that little extra kick to his powers. Although he is already a formidable magick-user, these implements allow him to tap into an extra little font of energy, improving their power and effectiveness, or range. And, as the old adage goes- a little bit can go a long way.
Weapons: Personally, Aurelius knows that his invocations are his most powerful weapon- while not as versatile as, say, a Sorcerer or Mage, the Warlock can call upon his powers as often as he damn well pleases. But, he learned young, never go anywhere unless you're armed to the teeth, and old habits die hard. To this end, he has several weapons he carries about his person.
His first and foremost weapons are the two long knives strapped to his lower back; these weapons are forged from the famed Baatorian Green Steel- this ore makes for strong blades, which keep their keen edges much longer than normal steel. The blades themselves are slightly curved, their edges lined with vicious serrations, and the grips are wrapped in the tanned skin of a Cornugon- a general of Baator's armies. They were a gift from the fiend who granted Aurelianus his powers.
Always handy as a back-up, the Warlock keeps a cleaver strapped to his right calf. This blade is simple steel, with a broad, machete-like blade, and has proven handy on more than one occasion. Drak'shal's other back-up blade is the wickedly curved and hooked blade hanging from his belt. Looking more like a surgical tool, than an outright weapon, it has been used as both many-a-time. Originally, it belonged to a friend of the tiefling, another plane-traveler, who died on their travels many years ago. Herzaa, may you rest in peace.
The final weapon in Aurelius' arsenal is the quarrel of steel shurikens holstered under his left arm. Each projectile is a three bladed disc, each with barbs and serrations aplenty. They may enter flesh easily, but will tear it to bloody rags upon removal. An eldritch blast behind one of these nasty little toys is enough to ruin anyone's day.. or internal organs.
Years of practice have left the tiefling quite adept in the use of all his weapons.
Inventory: Journal of portal locations and keys, assorted tomes and grimoires, ink, parchment, quills, small brushes, various vials and empty flasks, whetting stone, needle and thread, various bones and gems, flints, coil of rope
History: There is much to be said of Aurelianus' past. Too much, as it happens. It would take a lifetime and more to describe some of the things he has seen in his time travelling the Planes, and he has neither the time nor the inclination to do so.
So, he prefers to tell the short version of his history.
Born and (self) raised in Sigil, the City of Doors, Aurelius was always left to fend for himself. This, more than anything else, has made the tiefling a natural survivor. Now, while he didn't have to worry so much about racial prejudice (living among other tieflings, Aasimars, Githzerai, and other, wierder creatures), he did have to worry about every other gutterspawn thug trying to knife him for their own gain.. Or fun.
Like most Hive-dwellers, he eventually joined one of the marauding gangs, making murder, robbery, assault, and worse his favourite hobbies. Perhaps it was this corruption which paved the way to the Hells, but that will never be known for sure.
Like everyone eventually does, he grew up.
Moving away from the petty gangs of the Hive, Aurelius joined the Revolutionary League- the Anarchists. His near-constant brushes with everyone else's "law" had made him the perfect recruit for the faction, and in no time, the teen was an experienced orator, arsonist, and political agitator. And, for a time, it was good.
But, as the tiefling got older, he drew more and more attention to himself, and eventually drastic measures were employed to get rid of the young Aurelianus. The Mercykillers were called in. Now, for you Althanians, think of a marauding Mammoth with an axe and a head full of self-righteous zeal, and you're not far off.
Exit, stage right.
Aurelius fled, and rightly so, deciding to take one of the many portals out of Sigil, not particularly caring which. This was Drak'shal's biggest and smallest mistake of his life. The tiefling fled one herd of bloodthirsty butchers, just to end up somewhere infinitely worse.
Baator.
What torments Aurelianus suffered in the Lower Planes of Hell, he refuses to say (or possibly to remember...), but after two years, he emerged into another plane, a sigil burning on his left arm, and a new set of Warlock powers to abuse. The secrets of what happened in the depths of that nightmare plane, he will take to his grave.
Fast forward another decade, and the Warlock tiefling had travelled many of the planes, going where his feet took him, seeking out knowledge to increase his powers, tearing down governments and "ruling classes", visiting some of the most logic-twisting, and mind-bending places in existence, or simply getting blind drunk, and finding a whore-house. Whatever he had been up to, he enjoyed it immensely. His powers were rather formidable, and after his travels, the tiefling had a multitude of adventures (and misadventures) under his belt.
This was Aurelianus Drak'shal as he appeared in Althanas, over three years ago, now. This was not his first trip to the Prime Material Plane, but it was his first time on this world. While seeking out a repository of ancient demonic lore, he unwittingly triggered some form of ancient arcane alarm, and found himself catapulted through the planes. His journey may have taken days, or decades, it was impossible to tell- time became a relative concept in the swirling maelstrom of the ether between worlds. But eventually, he found himself hurled out of what he now knows to be the Nexus, landing in Althanas for the first time. Dusting himself off, the Warlock turned to exit the portal behind him... only to find that when he stepped through, he was spat back out in Althanas. Irritated, he tried again. And again. And again.
Always with the same result.
Over the past couple of years, he has managed to make it to other planes via the Nexus, but after so long (a day, or a month, but never longer) he finds himself pulled back to Althanas, whether he utilises a portal or not, dumped back on the familiar soil of this world. What and why he has been shackled to this plane he doesn't know, but he does intend to find out. But, while he's here, Aurelius has decided he's taken a liking to Althanas.
So far, he has travelled as far afield as Salvar, Fallien, and Terrinore; he has met many people, made some friends, made many more enemies; he has slain many monsters; and (as he proudly admits) bedded many women. But, the tiefling always seems to be looking over his shoulder for something. Whether he still fears the Mercykillers finding him, or whether it is something.. else.. from his plane-travelling that has him so paranoid is unknown to anyone but him.
Drak'shal hads been back to Baator a few times over the years, and after every visit seems to be just that little bit more powerful, or has a new invocation to master. What happens down in the fiery depths of the Hells is a mystery; Has he signed away more of his soul for greater power, or is he simply reaping greater rewards from the source of his abilities? As seems to be the pattern, only Aurelius knows for sure, and he seems to be keeping tight-lipped about the whole situation.
One thing is for sure, his master (or "patron", if you ask him) has the ability to break his deadlock on plane traveling- when the Warlock is ready to advance his powers, Skar'am'bhuls tears the tiefling from wherever he is and brings him to the lower vaults of the Hells. Why he has not granted Drak'shal freedom from his binding, the Warlock doesn't know, but he has the feeling the Demon Lord has plans in motion...
Nowadays though, the Warlock still seeks out forbidden and lost knowledge, and manages to find work from other anarchistic individuals and organisations, taking contracts, or simply instigating mayhem for laughs. Still, something seems to have happened to the planetouched in recent years: His tastes seem to grow more depraved with every passing year, the tiefling always looking for something new, and more degenerate to satisfy his lusts. It seems his demonic blood is finally beginning to gain a higher foothold on Drak'shal. To what end, none can say.
So, as always, there's fun to be had and chaos to be sown...
Alias('s): Aurelius, to his friends. Aran Sicht to his allies, and employers.
Age: 26 years
Race: Tiefling
Hair: Aurelianus' hair is an unkempt mop of dark red-black quills, hanging down to just above his shoulders. He has a bad habit of chewing on these spikes of hair without realising. Every few months he gets irritated by his hair, and simply shears it off with a knife, but no matter the length, he cannot help but resemble a demonic hedgehog.
Eyes: Aurelius' eyes are definitely not those of a normal human. In fact, they are decidedly serpentine. With orbs of purest black, broken by glowing, golden irises, and slit pupils, the tiefling's eyes mark him out as one of the planetouched.
Height: 5' 9''
Weight: 172 lbs
Occupation: Warlock, Seeker of Knowledge, Plane-traveler, Anarchist
Skills: Knife-fighting, deception and subterfuge, emotional manipulation, lore, linguistics (written and spoken: Tradespeak, elvish, Infernal, Aleraran, Dwarvish), literacy, tracking, parkour, sleight of hand, study of portals and transdimensional gateways, artifact restoration (documents, fetishes, totems, jewellery, etc.), trap-detection, stealth, surgery, first aid, pickpocketing
Spell Abilities: Shahab's Lash- This invocation summons a roaring cone or ball of black flame from the palms, which Drak'shal can then launch at his enemies. If any unfortunate is caught in these flames, the Hellfire will cling like liquid, rather than normal fire. Despite his resistance to normal fire, this invocation always leaves Aurelius himself burned, at least a little. To those who manage to extinguish the flames in time, Shahab's Lash only causes moderate burns.
Freki's Shield- This spell allows Aurelius to summon forth a protective bubble of magickal heat, which can deflect missiles, blades, and sometimes even other spells. But, the tiefling is not completely immune to the heat called forth, so he only uses this invocation in short bursts. He can keep it active long enough to stave off a few attacks, though a sufficiently strong one can shatter it. (Usable- twice per thread)
Eldritch Blast- This is a simple invocation all Warlocks know- essentially just a blast of pure arcane energy, which Aurelius has learned to use both defensively and offensively; either blasting at his foes with the force of a strong punch, or smashing aside an incoming blade.
Appearance: His heritage is not as apparent as some of the denizens of his home city, but to most in the many planes he has visited he is a foul half-breed. With his snake-like eyes, a long, black fork-tongue, pronounced fangs, pointed ears and scalpel-sharp finger nails, the tiefling is met with outright hostility by some. But, the most obvious sign of his "tainted" blood are the four black, slender horns rising from his brow like a crown of thorns. Though not as huge, or elaborate as the horns of some others of his kind, they nonetheless set alarms bells ringing with most.
More often than not, Aurelius looks rather weather-worn and roughed up; his unsettling eyes are ringed by bluish circles, a pale contrast to his alabaster flesh; his jaw is usually lined with rough stubble, until he can bother himself shaving; and Aurelianus is usually bruised or cut from some altercation or other. But, if not for all of these, the tiefling might almost pass as handsome. His features are oddly regal-looking, and charming. This, coupled with his mesmerising eyes, makes it usually quite easy to charm women: a common hobby for Aurelius.
His physical fitness makes this easier as well. The Warlock, despite his magickal ability, likes to keep his body toned, and ready for physical combat. He may look slight, but Aurelianus' muscles are toned and well-trained. He's no barbarian, but the tiefling is more than ready for a vicious little knife-fight.
After a lifetime of hard-living, first on the streets of the Hive (Sigil's deadly slums), then later on his travels through the planes, even so far as Baator, and finally to Althanas, the Warlock's body is marred with countless scars. Some are from simple knife-fights, back-alley shivs or battle with fiends; while others are products of Drak'shal's Art- burned by the Hellfire he summons. The most noticable of his scars are the burn marks on his arms, faint from the elbow, getting more noticeable towards his hands. The tiefling's palms are marked from old fires, despite his demonic heritage.
Still, it is in his minor self-mutilation that the Warlock finds pleasure. Aurelius has a liking for piercings and tattoos, his body decorated with plenty of both. He has his right eyebrow pierced with three obsidian rings, volcanic glass from the Hellish realm of Avernus, as well as simple steel bars through his nipples and several small fangs and bones hanging from rings through his elf-like ears. But, nestled among these other earrings is a small gold glyph- one of the four marks of the Anarchists, dangling from his left ear. The other three are hidden about his person, one on a leather cord round his neck, one disguised as a buckle on his right wand-bracer, and the final one has been worked into a ring, worn on his left forefinger: All of these bear minor enchantments, to aid the Anarchist in his faction's work. As for tattoos, these range from kabalistic sigils, mystic runes, barbed vine designs, and tribal markings to simple kill-markings from his days as a hive-ganger, reaching over his shoulders, his back, his torso, and arms- all done in ink, mixed with Aurelianus' own blood. The demonic glyph branded on his left forearm is the mark of the Glaabrezu, Skar'am'bhuls- the source of Drak'shal's Warlock abilities.
Personality: Aurelius believes whole-heartedly in chaos and is as likely to break someone's nose as he is to say "good morning" to them. This volatile nature has, from an early age, brought the tiefling into trouble with law enforcement of every stripe and creed, giving him an almost palpable hatred of authority, and their perverted idea of justice. He would like nothing more than burning every gods-damned court to the ground, preferrably with the self-proclaimed "Judges" still inside.
Now, while he may hate those who believe in "law and order" passionately, the Anarchist is not some simple-minded killer. He has many friends and companions across several planes, and has even managed to make some since arriving in Althanas a few years ago. While rather taciturn at first, once you get through his shell, you'll find a womanising, arrogant, paranoid, power-hungry, young half-fiend with a love of knife fights, and a penchant for burning people and things... it is understandable why many people agree you're safer not penetrating Aurelianus' shell. But, if that's the course you're set on, alcohol does help a great deal.
While the Warlock may try to kill guards and tax collectors on sight, he can be very open and friendly when he needs to appear that way. But, not far under the surface still lives that hive-ganger child who trusts no-one, and killed daily to survive- and that kid has a cruel-streak a mile long. If one were to rouse his ire, they would soon meet the sadistic bastard that inhabits Drak'shal's blood- his demonic side, so to speak. It is better not speaking of the atrocities committed on those who cross the Warlock. Suffice it to say, when your enemy trafficks with demons, your soul is not even safe in Hell.
Earning Aurelius' respect isn't easy as he views the majority of people as idiot whoresons. His exact words on the subject were, "Wouldn't piss on them if they were on fire." And if Aurelius had his way, many of them would be. Always looking for a thrill, or a decent fight, the tiefling is brave to the point of recklessness and never backs down; while this may seem almost heroic to his comrades, it has left the Warlock closer to death than he would like, on more occasions than he would care to recount.
Usual Garments and Armour: The eclectic mix of clothing and armour the Warlock wears mark him out as not being a local of Althanas. Many of the pieces hail from different planes entirely.
His basic clothing consists of a simple leather tunic, leather breeches, fingerless leather gloves and a pair of hobnailed boots. Occasionally, Drak'shal will also be seen wearing his knee-length leather coat- the dark leather being modified with armoured plates, and, like his armour, many straps and buckles. The inside of the coat has been sown with dozens of extra pockets and pouches for storing the multitude of things Aurelius usually has stashed about his person.
Along with these are the collection of fetishes, tokens, fangs, claws, locks of hair (or fur) and mystic knick-knacks the plane-traveler always wears. Round his neck hang many cords, all bearing some form of curious talisman or amulet. The same goes for his wrists and forearms. Some of these could pass for simple jewellery, while others are obviously arcane in nature.
When it comes to armour, though, his attire marks him to be a little different; the tiefling's armour consists of hardened, black leather plates (reinforced throughout with thin strips of bone), held in place with dozens of straps and buckles, and decorated with all sorts of blades, barbs and spikes. To get too close to Aurelius in a fight is an oft-times painful mistake. The suit protects his left arm thoroughly, with a series of interlocking plates, leaving the right bare for no apparent reason (with the exception of the special bracers worn), along with the torso, thighs, shins and shoulders. This asymmetrical armour is further modified with the addition of certain kill trophies, and collected mementos; numerous fangs, claws and even ears hang all over his frame.
Without doubt, though, his bracers are the tiefling's proudest creation- a work of genius, if you were to ask him. Running down the centre of each bracer, held fast by steel rings, is a slim wand, each carved from the bones of dead mages, and intricately scrimshawed with glyphs of power. These wand-bracers allow Aurelius to augment his Warlock invocations, adding that little extra kick to his powers. Although he is already a formidable magick-user, these implements allow him to tap into an extra little font of energy, improving their power and effectiveness, or range. And, as the old adage goes- a little bit can go a long way.
Weapons: Personally, Aurelius knows that his invocations are his most powerful weapon- while not as versatile as, say, a Sorcerer or Mage, the Warlock can call upon his powers as often as he damn well pleases. But, he learned young, never go anywhere unless you're armed to the teeth, and old habits die hard. To this end, he has several weapons he carries about his person.
His first and foremost weapons are the two long knives strapped to his lower back; these weapons are forged from the famed Baatorian Green Steel- this ore makes for strong blades, which keep their keen edges much longer than normal steel. The blades themselves are slightly curved, their edges lined with vicious serrations, and the grips are wrapped in the tanned skin of a Cornugon- a general of Baator's armies. They were a gift from the fiend who granted Aurelianus his powers.
Always handy as a back-up, the Warlock keeps a cleaver strapped to his right calf. This blade is simple steel, with a broad, machete-like blade, and has proven handy on more than one occasion. Drak'shal's other back-up blade is the wickedly curved and hooked blade hanging from his belt. Looking more like a surgical tool, than an outright weapon, it has been used as both many-a-time. Originally, it belonged to a friend of the tiefling, another plane-traveler, who died on their travels many years ago. Herzaa, may you rest in peace.
The final weapon in Aurelius' arsenal is the quarrel of steel shurikens holstered under his left arm. Each projectile is a three bladed disc, each with barbs and serrations aplenty. They may enter flesh easily, but will tear it to bloody rags upon removal. An eldritch blast behind one of these nasty little toys is enough to ruin anyone's day.. or internal organs.
Years of practice have left the tiefling quite adept in the use of all his weapons.
Inventory: Journal of portal locations and keys, assorted tomes and grimoires, ink, parchment, quills, small brushes, various vials and empty flasks, whetting stone, needle and thread, various bones and gems, flints, coil of rope
History: There is much to be said of Aurelianus' past. Too much, as it happens. It would take a lifetime and more to describe some of the things he has seen in his time travelling the Planes, and he has neither the time nor the inclination to do so.
So, he prefers to tell the short version of his history.
Born and (self) raised in Sigil, the City of Doors, Aurelius was always left to fend for himself. This, more than anything else, has made the tiefling a natural survivor. Now, while he didn't have to worry so much about racial prejudice (living among other tieflings, Aasimars, Githzerai, and other, wierder creatures), he did have to worry about every other gutterspawn thug trying to knife him for their own gain.. Or fun.
Like most Hive-dwellers, he eventually joined one of the marauding gangs, making murder, robbery, assault, and worse his favourite hobbies. Perhaps it was this corruption which paved the way to the Hells, but that will never be known for sure.
Like everyone eventually does, he grew up.
Moving away from the petty gangs of the Hive, Aurelius joined the Revolutionary League- the Anarchists. His near-constant brushes with everyone else's "law" had made him the perfect recruit for the faction, and in no time, the teen was an experienced orator, arsonist, and political agitator. And, for a time, it was good.
But, as the tiefling got older, he drew more and more attention to himself, and eventually drastic measures were employed to get rid of the young Aurelianus. The Mercykillers were called in. Now, for you Althanians, think of a marauding Mammoth with an axe and a head full of self-righteous zeal, and you're not far off.
Exit, stage right.
Aurelius fled, and rightly so, deciding to take one of the many portals out of Sigil, not particularly caring which. This was Drak'shal's biggest and smallest mistake of his life. The tiefling fled one herd of bloodthirsty butchers, just to end up somewhere infinitely worse.
Baator.
What torments Aurelianus suffered in the Lower Planes of Hell, he refuses to say (or possibly to remember...), but after two years, he emerged into another plane, a sigil burning on his left arm, and a new set of Warlock powers to abuse. The secrets of what happened in the depths of that nightmare plane, he will take to his grave.
Fast forward another decade, and the Warlock tiefling had travelled many of the planes, going where his feet took him, seeking out knowledge to increase his powers, tearing down governments and "ruling classes", visiting some of the most logic-twisting, and mind-bending places in existence, or simply getting blind drunk, and finding a whore-house. Whatever he had been up to, he enjoyed it immensely. His powers were rather formidable, and after his travels, the tiefling had a multitude of adventures (and misadventures) under his belt.
This was Aurelianus Drak'shal as he appeared in Althanas, over three years ago, now. This was not his first trip to the Prime Material Plane, but it was his first time on this world. While seeking out a repository of ancient demonic lore, he unwittingly triggered some form of ancient arcane alarm, and found himself catapulted through the planes. His journey may have taken days, or decades, it was impossible to tell- time became a relative concept in the swirling maelstrom of the ether between worlds. But eventually, he found himself hurled out of what he now knows to be the Nexus, landing in Althanas for the first time. Dusting himself off, the Warlock turned to exit the portal behind him... only to find that when he stepped through, he was spat back out in Althanas. Irritated, he tried again. And again. And again.
Always with the same result.
Over the past couple of years, he has managed to make it to other planes via the Nexus, but after so long (a day, or a month, but never longer) he finds himself pulled back to Althanas, whether he utilises a portal or not, dumped back on the familiar soil of this world. What and why he has been shackled to this plane he doesn't know, but he does intend to find out. But, while he's here, Aurelius has decided he's taken a liking to Althanas.
So far, he has travelled as far afield as Salvar, Fallien, and Terrinore; he has met many people, made some friends, made many more enemies; he has slain many monsters; and (as he proudly admits) bedded many women. But, the tiefling always seems to be looking over his shoulder for something. Whether he still fears the Mercykillers finding him, or whether it is something.. else.. from his plane-travelling that has him so paranoid is unknown to anyone but him.
Drak'shal hads been back to Baator a few times over the years, and after every visit seems to be just that little bit more powerful, or has a new invocation to master. What happens down in the fiery depths of the Hells is a mystery; Has he signed away more of his soul for greater power, or is he simply reaping greater rewards from the source of his abilities? As seems to be the pattern, only Aurelius knows for sure, and he seems to be keeping tight-lipped about the whole situation.
One thing is for sure, his master (or "patron", if you ask him) has the ability to break his deadlock on plane traveling- when the Warlock is ready to advance his powers, Skar'am'bhuls tears the tiefling from wherever he is and brings him to the lower vaults of the Hells. Why he has not granted Drak'shal freedom from his binding, the Warlock doesn't know, but he has the feeling the Demon Lord has plans in motion...
Nowadays though, the Warlock still seeks out forbidden and lost knowledge, and manages to find work from other anarchistic individuals and organisations, taking contracts, or simply instigating mayhem for laughs. Still, something seems to have happened to the planetouched in recent years: His tastes seem to grow more depraved with every passing year, the tiefling always looking for something new, and more degenerate to satisfy his lusts. It seems his demonic blood is finally beginning to gain a higher foothold on Drak'shal. To what end, none can say.
So, as always, there's fun to be had and chaos to be sown...