Reinhardt
02-13-07, 01:59 AM
Name: Reinhardt Lain
Age: Twenty Three
Race: Unknown; human in appearance, shows elvish characteristics
Hair Colour: Bright, Light Blonde
Eye Colour: Acid Green
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 163 lbs
Occupation: Nomad Jewelcrafter/Crystal Spinner
Personality: Reinhardt is somewhat of a mystery, especially when it comes to his actions. Usually calm, collected, cold and direct, he can often come across as imposing or just plain nasty. He is rarely forthcoming with his words and dares not mince them, his expansive vocabulary adding to the tone of superiority inferred by most of the unfortunate souls who cross his path. He is not evil, however- Mr. Lain does what he desires with little regard for law and order, but not quite to the point of anarchy- and indeed he remains a quiet spectator of most events. If, by chance, he were to meet an agreeable lass (or lad), with a little hesitation and a lot of time it’s quite possible a friendship could be sparked.
Reinhardt maintains an egotistical, if open, view of himself. He believes the path he is walking is at all times the correct one, but can take criticism (albeit grudgingly and with more than a little spite).
Appearance: Reinhardt stands at 6’1”, his slightly lithe but nonetheless muscular body filling out his clothes nicely. His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a relatively thin waist, his arms and legs muscular but moreso sinewy than, say, your average run-of-the-mill body-builder like warrior. A dull orange tattoo winds around his left forearm, from just below his elbow to the top of his wrist.
Reinhardt’s face is traditionally masculine, with several slender features highlighting his lineage. A strong jaw line and wide jaw coupled with small eyes and nose contribute to his masculine appearance, while thin, slightly pointed ears and very light stubble emanate a somewhat ethereal grace. His mouth is always in a very slight downturned pout, giving him an overall attractive but gritty, realistic appearance. His eyes are a very bright, acid green, and were unusual in Ecylia, although not as much on Althanas. Short, blond hair crowns his head, and thin downy hairs of the same shade adorn his forearms and legs.
Mr. Lain has two sets of garb which he finds himself in. The most common is his travelling gear; a tight, light brown shirt (which always seems to be forever unbuttoned at the top, much to the glee of the bar maids and wenches Reinhardt meets in his travels) and a pair of darker brown, frayed shorts. Protecting his feet are heavy wooden sandals laced with iron and leather. He really should get some new clothes, but insists the current state of things is fine. The second set of clothes is Rein’s battle dress- The Crystal Sheath bound to him during the Crimson Ceremony, consisting of dark robes worn in three layers.
The Primary Layer of the Crystal Sheath comprises of tight fitting, midnight-black, silk-like shirt and trousers. The buttons of the shirt are of obsidian, and like small stars they glint even in absolute darkness. What is even more remarkable about the shirt are the two expansive wings sprouting from just inside the shoulder blades, reaching out to an impressive 6 feet. Pure white, the wings are tarnished by a thick, black, tar-like substance which seems to originate from random points at the top of the wing and trickles down the otherwise perfect feathers to drip slowly onto the ground. The trousers are also tight, with very dark orange bands of onyx running periodically down their length, and are made of the same unknown substance as the shirt.
The Secondary Layer of the Crystal Sheath consists of a loose fitting black robe and a similar belt. The robe is flowing and mercurial- almost like water- has holes at the back for the wings, and is such a dark shade that it seems to be made of night itself. A cowl accompanies the robe, but is not often raised when worn. The belt is very similar, a silken cord of pure black used to keep the robe in place. Both the robe and belt seem to absorb light rather than reflect it, and are made of the same substance as the Primary Layer.
The Tertiary Layer of the Crystal Sheath is a simple, black scarf with a dull orange border and tribal design down the middle. The scarf is draped around Rein’s neck, the ends wrapping around his arms and hanging from around his wrists down to a foot above the ground when his arms are by his sides. As it is made from the same enigmatic material as the rest of the sheath, the orange, while dull and drained, seems bright against the impenetrable darkness of the black substance.
Reinhardt has a small, discreet nape piercing made of platinum, with a brightly glowing diamond at each end of the bar. The piercing can never be removed- not that he has ever tried, of course.
History:
Althanas is a world of intrigue, death, terror, honour, deceit, and magic. Frigid tundras give way to scorching desert plains; dangerous mountainous ranges guard peaceful, fertile farmland. Huge cities of ancients lie in ruin while country villages blossom. And even beyond all of this, beyond Althanas’ expansive geography, lie other worlds. Beyond the realm of the Prime Material Plane, countless unknown cosmos’ exist; worlds where huge glaciers continue their slow, inevitable dances undisturbed by animal life; planes of beauty and form so perfect, the human mind can not comprehend; places of terror, of nightmare, of torment; even realms comprising of the force of life itself. It is from one of these planes which Reinhardt hails from, a realm where energy and matter coexist in a state of controlled chaos.
Auryl. Capital of the land of Nausica, the largest region of Ecylia; Jewel of the North, Bastion of the Pure- it goes by many names, but no matter what moniker is uttered, visions of colossal, extravagant glass towers and huge crystal castles fill the mind of any within earshot. While politically and technically the capital of Nausica and the eastern fringes of the Frozen Sea, Auryl’s existence was the only obstacle in the path of complete destruction to Ecylia. Who did not know the importance of The Channelling and the place where it was maintained? Thus, neighbouring Kingdoms did not hesitate to comply with the harsh but fair wishes of Aetrial Lain’Dor Eckhart, Ruler of Auryl. Her people saw her as a strong and fearless Queen, continuing in the stoic footsteps of those before her… And those to follow.
Reinhardt Lain’Dor Eckhart sat hunched in one of the many ornate armchairs of the Eastern Tower Balcony, his left arm hanging loose between his legs while his right, balanced on his knee, supported his hand which in turn formed a fist balancing his chin. The sun, now a large crimson orb hovering inches above the horizon, cast a dull red glow over the land far below. The expansive array of translucent towers and castles stretching for miles around caught and refracted the light, causing a cascade of beauty and colour to shine with an ethereal shimmer all around the latest of the Lain’Dor Eckhart lineage, and the figure several feet behind him.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the figure remarked, causing Reinhardt to flinch in his seat in surprise.
“No matter how many times I see Auryl in the sunset, her beauty catches my breath.”
“Liradonna… You scared me.” Reinhardt relaxed in the jewelled seat, tilting his head slightly to his left. He had never really taken notice of the way the colours danced around the crystal city, and had not once thought it beautiful.
“Moreso extravagance and needless grandeur.” he muttered, drawing a slight chuckle from the Guardian.
“Perhaps. But it is the appreciation of beauty and the force of life to which it can be attributed-”
“’-That is the driving force of The Channelling and the kingdom of Auryl itself.’” He interrupted.
“Yes, Lira, I know. I’ve known ever since I could walk. I’ve been taught of the Channelling and Aetrial’s lineage ad nauseum. It’s all anyone ever talks to me about, other than the trite, small conversation I get from the Palace Guards.” He once again leaned forward, hunched, his golden brow furrowed in thought and irritation. Liradonna stepped forward, bringing her inches from the high, arched back of Reinhardt’s chair. She remained silent for several minutes, the faraway musical sound of the city carried to her ears by the soft breeze.
“The Queen’s Lineage is your own, Reinhardt Lain’Dor Eckhart.” She murmured in a soft, low voice.
“All has been done to prepare you for the Crimson Ceremony. You know the importance of your task, and I know that you must be prepared. The Storm can only be kept at bay by the actions you take on the path destined for you. Do not blame the Watch for their sympathy… They only seek to alleviate your solitude.” The Guardian’s eyes filled with a fleeting sorrow for the man before her, a mere child seemingly days ago, before she steeled herself and cleared her throat pointedly. Reinhardt took the hint.
“Yes… I know.” He breathed a deep sigh and stood, facing the one who had cared for and protected him since he was a child; the one whom he considered his mother despite his ancestry.
“It’s not long now.” He whispered softly, and she smiled despite her sadness.
“Three days.” Reinhardt nodded slowly and brushed past her, through the magnificent glass doorway and into the upper Castle. Liradonna stood still, staring into the twilight sky. Soon it would be dark, and the very edges of the storm would become visible in the corners of the vast tapestry above. For all the beauty engulfing her, she could do naught to douse the spark of lamentation within.
“Three days…” She sighed.
“Three days until your death.”
*
The crowd, for all its size, was silent as the twilight just before the sun’s awakening on the coldest day of winter in the middle of the Frozen Sea. The entire population of nobles, barons, wealthy merchants and famous, powerful mages of Ecylia were gathered around the immense Circle of Ritual in the Citadel of the Palace to bear witness to the ceremony. Far above them all, aligned with the exact centre of the circle, hovered the only thing that stood between the peoples of Ecylia and the violent power of the Storm- the Soul Stone, a pure white orb of crystal. Reinhardt stood on a raised dais, garbed in The Crystal Sheath; the set of black ritual robes worn by the first Lain’Dor Eckhart, before the mass of hundreds. A hundred meters behind him, on the edge of the circle, sat the Queen, an impassive, stone look etched on her face.
“People of Ecylia.” Spoke Reinhardt, his deep voice magnified by the natural acoustics of the stone citadel. He breathed deeply, steeling himself for the imminent events. This was everything he had lived for, everything he had been taught from the moment it was possible to teach him, and he was not going to let anxiety or fear of doom lead to failure. Swallowing softly, he spread his arms to the side and addressed the gathering.
“It was over Three Hundred years ago that the cataclysm struck Ecylia. What the causes were, it was never certain; but it is clear that a great disturbance and perversion in the laws of magic and life triggered a devastating event. The evidence is seen every moonless night.” Rein lifted his arms to the sky and closed his eyes.
“The Cataclysm shook the land and burned the sky, and as it advanced, the destruction of our world was certain. Mages toiled on spells of such complexity that for months they worked tirelessly in Arcanum Libraries, but they had no effect on the encroaching annihilation. That was when my ancestor, Silver Lain’Dor Eckhart, stepped forward.” The latest in the Lain’Dor Eckhart line opened his eyes and stepped down from the dais, coming to rest a few feet in front of the marble altar.
“At the cost of his life and immortal soul, he utilised his mastery of the crystal arts to create a jewel of such power that it could subvert the chaotic energies that tore at the very existence of this world and channel them into ordered, lawful force. This is the energy you see around you at this moment, powering our light sources, contraptions, and magical efforts. Without it, Auryl would be a dark shadow of its current state.” Of course everyone knew this, from the wealthiest Duchess to even the lowliest commoner. It was basic History and the sole founding reason of the Kingdom now blossoming around them all. But the ceremony had to be done, Reinhardt thought with an internal sigh. It had all seemed like such a short time ago.
“The Soul Stone, the jewel of life; the only thing standing between us all and our doom, must be recreated every Thirty-Three Years. Like my ancestors before me, I, Reinhardt Lain’Dor Eckhart, have stepped up to meet the path destined for all males of the Lain’Dor Eckhart line. As your Prince and member of your court, I sacrifice myself for the good of Ecylia.”
Reinhardt bowed his head and stood still. The first part was over. Queen Aetrial surveyed the muted crowd with an apathetic eye, and spoke.
“Let the Crimson Ceremony Begin.” Immediately a soft, deep melody began to resonate throughout the citadel’s marble floor, enveloping the surroundings in song. Reinhardt straightened and walked slowly forward to the south-western point of the Circle. There lay a cut diamond the size of a man’s fist, dull and lifeless. Picking it up gently, he took it in his right hand and held the point to his forehead.
“With my Mind, I think thoughts of salvation and clarity.” Digging the point into his flesh, a small trickle of blood began to run down from the point his skin was pierced. A thin, silver wisp of energy erupted from the wound and flowed into the diamond. Placing the jewel on the ground, he turned and began walking to the south-eastern point of the Circle, a trail of silver smoke linking him and the stone. His feelings of anxiety and nervousness began to leave him, as if he did not even have to think upon them any longer.
Reaching down for the ruby that lay in wait, he held the gem in his left hand, pointing the sharp edge towards his bare chest.
“With my Heart, I pray for eternal protection and guidance.” Forcing the ruby into his skin, a red wispy trail now joined him and the stone. Placing it gently upon the ground, he suddenly felt indifferent and emotionless. Liradonna had warned him this would happen so he would not panic, but it didn’t matter now. There was nothing to panic about at all. Turning to face the northernmost part of the circle and his mother, Reinhardt crossed the vast space slowly, two threads of his own life anchored to the jewels of lore.
Arriving at the Queen’s Throne, he took the sapphire at her feet and held it to his solar plexus, feeling the sharp point against his stomach.
“With my Soul, I seek purity and kindness.” A glinting flash, a trickle of blood, and a faint, ghostly blue thread joined him to the final gem. There was nothing now, he was hollow. Returning to the dais far below the Soul Stone, he lay across it, his Mind, Heart and Soul splashing down the steps of the marble platform and into the jewels far across from him. The streams continued up from the stones of lore and into the white orb, commencing the final stage of the Crimson Ritual.
“My Body, I sacrifice for the people of Ecylia.”
A guard robed in robes of bright crimson with a heavy cowl concealing his identity stepped forward from the edge of the circle. A dagger made entirely of crystal was at his side, sharpened to a razor’s edge. Approaching Reinhardt’s gently breathing body, he raised the dagger into the air and dramatically brought it down into the chest of the Prince of Auryl. His vision blurring as the blood surged from his body, the latest Lain’Dor Eckhart’s consciousness faded.
*
“Lain! Lain! Come to your senses!”
Huh?
Pure White was all that lay in all directions, and Reinhardt wasn’t sure if he was blind or dreaming.
Is this what death is like? He thought to himself while fruitlessly trying to get a bearing of his surroundings.
“Not exactly, Lain.” The ethereal voice echoed around him.
“You’re in the space between existence and non-existence. This is the realm where your soul will reside until the next will take your place. Commonly referred to as the Soul Stone.” Reinhardt tried to glance around to see where the voice had originated, but all that he could see was the endless white. Looking where he assumed was down, he realised there was nothing where his body should be either.
I can’t see you… Who are you? What’s going on?
“Forget your confusion. All will become apparent in time, Lain. In this place, to see, you must simply imagine. For all that exists here is your consciousness, and mine. I was known as Lance Lain’Dor Eckhart before I came here. Do you know of this name?”
Reinhardt’s eyes widened as the name was recognised to be his uncle’s- the last to perform the ritual a few years before Rein’s birth- and he suddenly realised he was once more. Patting his body to check for any wounds and broken bones, he heard the voice chuckle.
“There is no corporeal form here, Lain. You have nothing to fear.”
Reinhardt stopped his semi-frantic search short and cleared his throat.
“Where are you?”
“The same way you found the memory of your body, you will find my location. Come to me; I’d like to see my successor, Lain.”
Rein glanced around him. The same way he found the memory of his body? But the location of this being was not something he had ever learned, much less had the ability to recall. If he-
“There!” He shouted suddenly as a point of darkness flared in the distance. He set off towards it, a half run- hesitant but curious. Before he knew it he was there; a dark opening like the mouth of a cave, against the snow-white backdrop of the never ending dimension contained within an orb the size of a man’s fist.
“As I said, Lain.” The voice echoed louder this time; he was very close.
“In this place your imagination is reality.”
Reinhardt paused and looked into the gaping maw that lead into a cavernous environ.
“This is my imagination. Come. There are some things we should discuss in person.”
Reinhardt breathed slowly and stepped into the cave. The light was low, but he could still make out the sides of the cavern and the large boulders and rocks scattered around. A path heading down into the… Earth?… was the only feature distinguishable from the otherwise brown, rocky surroundings. After a few meters, the path took a sharp turn to the left. Golden dappled light was spilling onto the ground from around the bend, and Reinhardt could only guess that it was the abode of Silver Lain. Stepping down into the sliver of darkness that was the final threshold between the path of light separating him and his long-dead uncle, Reinhardt took a deep breath and stepped into the light.
The room was circular and smooth; small, lined with golden tiles and small yellow gemstones. The light source was non-directional, seemingly coming from the walls themselves. A large, imposing man stood in the middle of the room with his back to Reinhardt. Clearing his throat, he spoke.
“Silver?”
The man turned around with a smile on his face, a greeting ready to spring from his lips. As sudden as the warm face appeared, his smile turned into a shocked snarl.
“Reinhardt! What are you doing here!?” he barked, and Rein fell back in surprise.
“T-the Crimson Ritual of course.” He stammered, unsure of Silver’s sudden outburst.
“You shouldn’t be here! Something has gone terribly wrong!” he yelled, and Reinhardt could not help but feel confused.
“But… The Crimson Ceremony, every Thirty years… You went thirty years before me... My mother is-”
“Thirty years? Aetrial? Aetrial is the current Queen of Auryl? What has…? Plunged all of… No-one stopped her?!”
Reinhardt just looked at Silver with a look of confusion and panic on his face.
“I don’t understand. Stop Aetrial? Why? She’s been ruling Auryl with a harsh but fair agenda… I don’t know wha-”
Reinhardt was cut off as a violent tremor knocked him off his feet. Several of the yellow crystals adorning the walls of the room exploded, embedding shards in his face and arms. Silver fiercely grabbed Reinhardt’s arm and dragged him off the ground.
“What’s happening?” he cried.
“Let us go and see the destruction that greed brings upon our land!” Reinhardt threw a bewildered glance at Silver and tried to stand when another explosion of force sent him reeling out of the room and into the shadowy cavern, Silver with him. Scrambling towards the exit, he came to the expanse of white- although it was no longer so.
In the distance, gargantuan bands of black spread across the white, dark grey lightning flashing, splinters of white flurrying around the faraway storm.
“What…?” he gasped.
“The Soul Stone.” Silver breathed quietly behind him, even though his voice was tinged with panic.
“It’s is breaking. I do no know why you are here, Lain, but you should not be. Something as gone incredibly awry.” As if to accentuate his point, an explosion rocked them both several feet forward as the cave collapsed behind them. A huge shard of crystal, at least as big as the castle of Auryl, fell several hundred meters to their left, raining gems the size of men’s heads around the two figures. Reinhardt cowered to the ground, his head covered with his arms; Silver stood, a look of controlled panic and anger set in his iron features. Reaching down as another explosion sent tremors under their feet, he took Reinhardt’s wrist and picked him up off the ground as if he were a rag doll. Closing his eyes as several house-sized fragments of stone fell some yards behind him, Silver lifted his foot, stamping it down with considerable force. A faint, dark fracture ran from where his foot met the ground to several feet away. There it widened; a sable, formless hole of darkness.
“Lain! You must find the re-” Silver was cut short as a gargantuan shock tore through the space around them, releasing Rein from his uncle’s grasp and sending him skittering across the rubble-strewn ground, into the hole. His hands struggling to grip the fast-crumbling edge of the gouge in the white that seemed to lead into never ending darkness, a deep, spreading panic took hold.
“Silver! Help me!”
A transparent fragment of stone dislodged from the murky temporal disturbance high above. As large as several men abreast and many times as heavy, it fell with a sickening whistle towards the blonde prince. He looked up, his stomach sinking. He could do nothing but let go and fall into the gaping shadow.
*
Silver… “SILVER!” Reinhardt sat up gasping for air, his eyes wild with panic and confusion. It was dark; a soft breeze caressed his face, and what sounded like trees were rustling around him. He felt dirt and dead leaves underneath his hands.
“Ugh… Where… Am I?”
And it was thus that Reinhardt Lain’Dor Eckhart, Son of Aetrial Lain’Dor and Prince of Auryl, found himself on the cold ground of the edge of the forest of Concordia.
Skills:
Without a Body, Without a Soul: The awry Crimson Ritual and the sapping of Reinhardt’s Mind, Heart and Soul, while incomplete, has left him with a strange characteristic. Quite simply, he cannot die. While he may be beaten, shot, stabbed, cut, mauled or otherwise wounded, his trans-planar origin combined with his hollowed spirit do not allow for permanent death. If he is damaged to the point of death, even through decapitation or disembowelment, his body will enter a non-animated state. After several weeks pass, the body will begin to regrow and within several days, it will be as if nothing happened- albeit for a painful few weeks afterwards. Keep in mind this does not mean he can withstand any more trauma than a regular human, and is just as quick to dispatch of. Just not as permanently.
Flightless Avian: Although wings attached to the Crystal Sheath can be manipulated as if they were his own, Reinhardt cannot fly or indeed use them very deftly. Best he can attempt is a slow a fall, with limited success.
Crystalism/Jewelcrafting: Reinhardt’s kingdom on his home world focused heavily on magic and the manipulation of energy, especially through the use of jewels and crystals. As the Prince of Auryl, it was Rein’s duty to become a powerful and competent master Jewelcrafter and Crystal Spinner in preparation for the Crimson Ceremony.
Crystalism entails infusing gemstones and crystals with a temporary magical effect that can be utilised in a few ways. Crystal Spinning involves taking an infused crystal and spinning it in mid-air. There it hovers, the vibrations of the particular gem working with its magical infusion to create an area of effect. The effect and its range are dependant on the skill of the Spinner, the gem’s type and quality, and the infusion. A more basic and common way to use infused crystals is by throwing, tapping, breaking or crushing them; although these methods usually only unleash an instant effect. Most infused crystals fracture or break after the infusion is released, rendering them useless.
Jewelcrafting is the creation and enchantment of amulets or pendants and jewels to create either repeatable or permanent effects. It is different to Crystalism in that the process of Jewelcrafting is slow and can often take days and even weeks to complete. Also, the permanent magical properties of the jewels are often weaker than their temporary counterparts, sacrificing power for longevity.
A Light to Guide:
Reagents: Any crystal fit for infusion.
Chanting a quick incantation over the stone, Reinhardt can infuse it with a bright, green light. This can stay illuminated for several hours, but the longer it is used the larger the chance of the crystal fracturing. In times of emergency, the glowing stone can be broken to cause a brilliant flash of light which can illuminate a large area for several minutes. It is not bright enough to blind anyone unless they have severe photosensitivity.
A Flame to Burn:
Reagents: Quartz or any quartz variants. The higher the quality, the better the infusion.
Charging the crystal with energy, it can then be thrown or hit to release a small burst of searing heat upon fracture. Once a crystal is fractured, it cannot be reused.
Equipment:
Geode: A 7’ staff made of clear crystal with a cluster of sharp black gems at both ends, Geode is bound to Reinhardt. Where it came from he does not know, but it was with him when he appeared on Althanas. It has so far proved to be indestructible, although serves little use as of yet. However, the dark gems at the end of the staff can be broken off, new ones growing to take their place in several days. They appear to be a quartz variant.
Gem Pouch: A small black silken bag attached to Rein’s belt, his Gem Pouch can carry up to 20 infused crystals.
The Crystal Sheath: The dark ritual robes worn by Reinhardt in the Crimson Ceremony, they have changed appearance slightly on Althanas. Now an unnatural black, they also have a set of wings growing out of them. How or why they are like this is uncertain.
Hrm. That took a little longer than I would have hoped. Anyway, hey Cyrus, Witchblade. Nice to see you guys again.
Age: Twenty Three
Race: Unknown; human in appearance, shows elvish characteristics
Hair Colour: Bright, Light Blonde
Eye Colour: Acid Green
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 163 lbs
Occupation: Nomad Jewelcrafter/Crystal Spinner
Personality: Reinhardt is somewhat of a mystery, especially when it comes to his actions. Usually calm, collected, cold and direct, he can often come across as imposing or just plain nasty. He is rarely forthcoming with his words and dares not mince them, his expansive vocabulary adding to the tone of superiority inferred by most of the unfortunate souls who cross his path. He is not evil, however- Mr. Lain does what he desires with little regard for law and order, but not quite to the point of anarchy- and indeed he remains a quiet spectator of most events. If, by chance, he were to meet an agreeable lass (or lad), with a little hesitation and a lot of time it’s quite possible a friendship could be sparked.
Reinhardt maintains an egotistical, if open, view of himself. He believes the path he is walking is at all times the correct one, but can take criticism (albeit grudgingly and with more than a little spite).
Appearance: Reinhardt stands at 6’1”, his slightly lithe but nonetheless muscular body filling out his clothes nicely. His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a relatively thin waist, his arms and legs muscular but moreso sinewy than, say, your average run-of-the-mill body-builder like warrior. A dull orange tattoo winds around his left forearm, from just below his elbow to the top of his wrist.
Reinhardt’s face is traditionally masculine, with several slender features highlighting his lineage. A strong jaw line and wide jaw coupled with small eyes and nose contribute to his masculine appearance, while thin, slightly pointed ears and very light stubble emanate a somewhat ethereal grace. His mouth is always in a very slight downturned pout, giving him an overall attractive but gritty, realistic appearance. His eyes are a very bright, acid green, and were unusual in Ecylia, although not as much on Althanas. Short, blond hair crowns his head, and thin downy hairs of the same shade adorn his forearms and legs.
Mr. Lain has two sets of garb which he finds himself in. The most common is his travelling gear; a tight, light brown shirt (which always seems to be forever unbuttoned at the top, much to the glee of the bar maids and wenches Reinhardt meets in his travels) and a pair of darker brown, frayed shorts. Protecting his feet are heavy wooden sandals laced with iron and leather. He really should get some new clothes, but insists the current state of things is fine. The second set of clothes is Rein’s battle dress- The Crystal Sheath bound to him during the Crimson Ceremony, consisting of dark robes worn in three layers.
The Primary Layer of the Crystal Sheath comprises of tight fitting, midnight-black, silk-like shirt and trousers. The buttons of the shirt are of obsidian, and like small stars they glint even in absolute darkness. What is even more remarkable about the shirt are the two expansive wings sprouting from just inside the shoulder blades, reaching out to an impressive 6 feet. Pure white, the wings are tarnished by a thick, black, tar-like substance which seems to originate from random points at the top of the wing and trickles down the otherwise perfect feathers to drip slowly onto the ground. The trousers are also tight, with very dark orange bands of onyx running periodically down their length, and are made of the same unknown substance as the shirt.
The Secondary Layer of the Crystal Sheath consists of a loose fitting black robe and a similar belt. The robe is flowing and mercurial- almost like water- has holes at the back for the wings, and is such a dark shade that it seems to be made of night itself. A cowl accompanies the robe, but is not often raised when worn. The belt is very similar, a silken cord of pure black used to keep the robe in place. Both the robe and belt seem to absorb light rather than reflect it, and are made of the same substance as the Primary Layer.
The Tertiary Layer of the Crystal Sheath is a simple, black scarf with a dull orange border and tribal design down the middle. The scarf is draped around Rein’s neck, the ends wrapping around his arms and hanging from around his wrists down to a foot above the ground when his arms are by his sides. As it is made from the same enigmatic material as the rest of the sheath, the orange, while dull and drained, seems bright against the impenetrable darkness of the black substance.
Reinhardt has a small, discreet nape piercing made of platinum, with a brightly glowing diamond at each end of the bar. The piercing can never be removed- not that he has ever tried, of course.
History:
Althanas is a world of intrigue, death, terror, honour, deceit, and magic. Frigid tundras give way to scorching desert plains; dangerous mountainous ranges guard peaceful, fertile farmland. Huge cities of ancients lie in ruin while country villages blossom. And even beyond all of this, beyond Althanas’ expansive geography, lie other worlds. Beyond the realm of the Prime Material Plane, countless unknown cosmos’ exist; worlds where huge glaciers continue their slow, inevitable dances undisturbed by animal life; planes of beauty and form so perfect, the human mind can not comprehend; places of terror, of nightmare, of torment; even realms comprising of the force of life itself. It is from one of these planes which Reinhardt hails from, a realm where energy and matter coexist in a state of controlled chaos.
Auryl. Capital of the land of Nausica, the largest region of Ecylia; Jewel of the North, Bastion of the Pure- it goes by many names, but no matter what moniker is uttered, visions of colossal, extravagant glass towers and huge crystal castles fill the mind of any within earshot. While politically and technically the capital of Nausica and the eastern fringes of the Frozen Sea, Auryl’s existence was the only obstacle in the path of complete destruction to Ecylia. Who did not know the importance of The Channelling and the place where it was maintained? Thus, neighbouring Kingdoms did not hesitate to comply with the harsh but fair wishes of Aetrial Lain’Dor Eckhart, Ruler of Auryl. Her people saw her as a strong and fearless Queen, continuing in the stoic footsteps of those before her… And those to follow.
Reinhardt Lain’Dor Eckhart sat hunched in one of the many ornate armchairs of the Eastern Tower Balcony, his left arm hanging loose between his legs while his right, balanced on his knee, supported his hand which in turn formed a fist balancing his chin. The sun, now a large crimson orb hovering inches above the horizon, cast a dull red glow over the land far below. The expansive array of translucent towers and castles stretching for miles around caught and refracted the light, causing a cascade of beauty and colour to shine with an ethereal shimmer all around the latest of the Lain’Dor Eckhart lineage, and the figure several feet behind him.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the figure remarked, causing Reinhardt to flinch in his seat in surprise.
“No matter how many times I see Auryl in the sunset, her beauty catches my breath.”
“Liradonna… You scared me.” Reinhardt relaxed in the jewelled seat, tilting his head slightly to his left. He had never really taken notice of the way the colours danced around the crystal city, and had not once thought it beautiful.
“Moreso extravagance and needless grandeur.” he muttered, drawing a slight chuckle from the Guardian.
“Perhaps. But it is the appreciation of beauty and the force of life to which it can be attributed-”
“’-That is the driving force of The Channelling and the kingdom of Auryl itself.’” He interrupted.
“Yes, Lira, I know. I’ve known ever since I could walk. I’ve been taught of the Channelling and Aetrial’s lineage ad nauseum. It’s all anyone ever talks to me about, other than the trite, small conversation I get from the Palace Guards.” He once again leaned forward, hunched, his golden brow furrowed in thought and irritation. Liradonna stepped forward, bringing her inches from the high, arched back of Reinhardt’s chair. She remained silent for several minutes, the faraway musical sound of the city carried to her ears by the soft breeze.
“The Queen’s Lineage is your own, Reinhardt Lain’Dor Eckhart.” She murmured in a soft, low voice.
“All has been done to prepare you for the Crimson Ceremony. You know the importance of your task, and I know that you must be prepared. The Storm can only be kept at bay by the actions you take on the path destined for you. Do not blame the Watch for their sympathy… They only seek to alleviate your solitude.” The Guardian’s eyes filled with a fleeting sorrow for the man before her, a mere child seemingly days ago, before she steeled herself and cleared her throat pointedly. Reinhardt took the hint.
“Yes… I know.” He breathed a deep sigh and stood, facing the one who had cared for and protected him since he was a child; the one whom he considered his mother despite his ancestry.
“It’s not long now.” He whispered softly, and she smiled despite her sadness.
“Three days.” Reinhardt nodded slowly and brushed past her, through the magnificent glass doorway and into the upper Castle. Liradonna stood still, staring into the twilight sky. Soon it would be dark, and the very edges of the storm would become visible in the corners of the vast tapestry above. For all the beauty engulfing her, she could do naught to douse the spark of lamentation within.
“Three days…” She sighed.
“Three days until your death.”
*
The crowd, for all its size, was silent as the twilight just before the sun’s awakening on the coldest day of winter in the middle of the Frozen Sea. The entire population of nobles, barons, wealthy merchants and famous, powerful mages of Ecylia were gathered around the immense Circle of Ritual in the Citadel of the Palace to bear witness to the ceremony. Far above them all, aligned with the exact centre of the circle, hovered the only thing that stood between the peoples of Ecylia and the violent power of the Storm- the Soul Stone, a pure white orb of crystal. Reinhardt stood on a raised dais, garbed in The Crystal Sheath; the set of black ritual robes worn by the first Lain’Dor Eckhart, before the mass of hundreds. A hundred meters behind him, on the edge of the circle, sat the Queen, an impassive, stone look etched on her face.
“People of Ecylia.” Spoke Reinhardt, his deep voice magnified by the natural acoustics of the stone citadel. He breathed deeply, steeling himself for the imminent events. This was everything he had lived for, everything he had been taught from the moment it was possible to teach him, and he was not going to let anxiety or fear of doom lead to failure. Swallowing softly, he spread his arms to the side and addressed the gathering.
“It was over Three Hundred years ago that the cataclysm struck Ecylia. What the causes were, it was never certain; but it is clear that a great disturbance and perversion in the laws of magic and life triggered a devastating event. The evidence is seen every moonless night.” Rein lifted his arms to the sky and closed his eyes.
“The Cataclysm shook the land and burned the sky, and as it advanced, the destruction of our world was certain. Mages toiled on spells of such complexity that for months they worked tirelessly in Arcanum Libraries, but they had no effect on the encroaching annihilation. That was when my ancestor, Silver Lain’Dor Eckhart, stepped forward.” The latest in the Lain’Dor Eckhart line opened his eyes and stepped down from the dais, coming to rest a few feet in front of the marble altar.
“At the cost of his life and immortal soul, he utilised his mastery of the crystal arts to create a jewel of such power that it could subvert the chaotic energies that tore at the very existence of this world and channel them into ordered, lawful force. This is the energy you see around you at this moment, powering our light sources, contraptions, and magical efforts. Without it, Auryl would be a dark shadow of its current state.” Of course everyone knew this, from the wealthiest Duchess to even the lowliest commoner. It was basic History and the sole founding reason of the Kingdom now blossoming around them all. But the ceremony had to be done, Reinhardt thought with an internal sigh. It had all seemed like such a short time ago.
“The Soul Stone, the jewel of life; the only thing standing between us all and our doom, must be recreated every Thirty-Three Years. Like my ancestors before me, I, Reinhardt Lain’Dor Eckhart, have stepped up to meet the path destined for all males of the Lain’Dor Eckhart line. As your Prince and member of your court, I sacrifice myself for the good of Ecylia.”
Reinhardt bowed his head and stood still. The first part was over. Queen Aetrial surveyed the muted crowd with an apathetic eye, and spoke.
“Let the Crimson Ceremony Begin.” Immediately a soft, deep melody began to resonate throughout the citadel’s marble floor, enveloping the surroundings in song. Reinhardt straightened and walked slowly forward to the south-western point of the Circle. There lay a cut diamond the size of a man’s fist, dull and lifeless. Picking it up gently, he took it in his right hand and held the point to his forehead.
“With my Mind, I think thoughts of salvation and clarity.” Digging the point into his flesh, a small trickle of blood began to run down from the point his skin was pierced. A thin, silver wisp of energy erupted from the wound and flowed into the diamond. Placing the jewel on the ground, he turned and began walking to the south-eastern point of the Circle, a trail of silver smoke linking him and the stone. His feelings of anxiety and nervousness began to leave him, as if he did not even have to think upon them any longer.
Reaching down for the ruby that lay in wait, he held the gem in his left hand, pointing the sharp edge towards his bare chest.
“With my Heart, I pray for eternal protection and guidance.” Forcing the ruby into his skin, a red wispy trail now joined him and the stone. Placing it gently upon the ground, he suddenly felt indifferent and emotionless. Liradonna had warned him this would happen so he would not panic, but it didn’t matter now. There was nothing to panic about at all. Turning to face the northernmost part of the circle and his mother, Reinhardt crossed the vast space slowly, two threads of his own life anchored to the jewels of lore.
Arriving at the Queen’s Throne, he took the sapphire at her feet and held it to his solar plexus, feeling the sharp point against his stomach.
“With my Soul, I seek purity and kindness.” A glinting flash, a trickle of blood, and a faint, ghostly blue thread joined him to the final gem. There was nothing now, he was hollow. Returning to the dais far below the Soul Stone, he lay across it, his Mind, Heart and Soul splashing down the steps of the marble platform and into the jewels far across from him. The streams continued up from the stones of lore and into the white orb, commencing the final stage of the Crimson Ritual.
“My Body, I sacrifice for the people of Ecylia.”
A guard robed in robes of bright crimson with a heavy cowl concealing his identity stepped forward from the edge of the circle. A dagger made entirely of crystal was at his side, sharpened to a razor’s edge. Approaching Reinhardt’s gently breathing body, he raised the dagger into the air and dramatically brought it down into the chest of the Prince of Auryl. His vision blurring as the blood surged from his body, the latest Lain’Dor Eckhart’s consciousness faded.
*
“Lain! Lain! Come to your senses!”
Huh?
Pure White was all that lay in all directions, and Reinhardt wasn’t sure if he was blind or dreaming.
Is this what death is like? He thought to himself while fruitlessly trying to get a bearing of his surroundings.
“Not exactly, Lain.” The ethereal voice echoed around him.
“You’re in the space between existence and non-existence. This is the realm where your soul will reside until the next will take your place. Commonly referred to as the Soul Stone.” Reinhardt tried to glance around to see where the voice had originated, but all that he could see was the endless white. Looking where he assumed was down, he realised there was nothing where his body should be either.
I can’t see you… Who are you? What’s going on?
“Forget your confusion. All will become apparent in time, Lain. In this place, to see, you must simply imagine. For all that exists here is your consciousness, and mine. I was known as Lance Lain’Dor Eckhart before I came here. Do you know of this name?”
Reinhardt’s eyes widened as the name was recognised to be his uncle’s- the last to perform the ritual a few years before Rein’s birth- and he suddenly realised he was once more. Patting his body to check for any wounds and broken bones, he heard the voice chuckle.
“There is no corporeal form here, Lain. You have nothing to fear.”
Reinhardt stopped his semi-frantic search short and cleared his throat.
“Where are you?”
“The same way you found the memory of your body, you will find my location. Come to me; I’d like to see my successor, Lain.”
Rein glanced around him. The same way he found the memory of his body? But the location of this being was not something he had ever learned, much less had the ability to recall. If he-
“There!” He shouted suddenly as a point of darkness flared in the distance. He set off towards it, a half run- hesitant but curious. Before he knew it he was there; a dark opening like the mouth of a cave, against the snow-white backdrop of the never ending dimension contained within an orb the size of a man’s fist.
“As I said, Lain.” The voice echoed louder this time; he was very close.
“In this place your imagination is reality.”
Reinhardt paused and looked into the gaping maw that lead into a cavernous environ.
“This is my imagination. Come. There are some things we should discuss in person.”
Reinhardt breathed slowly and stepped into the cave. The light was low, but he could still make out the sides of the cavern and the large boulders and rocks scattered around. A path heading down into the… Earth?… was the only feature distinguishable from the otherwise brown, rocky surroundings. After a few meters, the path took a sharp turn to the left. Golden dappled light was spilling onto the ground from around the bend, and Reinhardt could only guess that it was the abode of Silver Lain. Stepping down into the sliver of darkness that was the final threshold between the path of light separating him and his long-dead uncle, Reinhardt took a deep breath and stepped into the light.
The room was circular and smooth; small, lined with golden tiles and small yellow gemstones. The light source was non-directional, seemingly coming from the walls themselves. A large, imposing man stood in the middle of the room with his back to Reinhardt. Clearing his throat, he spoke.
“Silver?”
The man turned around with a smile on his face, a greeting ready to spring from his lips. As sudden as the warm face appeared, his smile turned into a shocked snarl.
“Reinhardt! What are you doing here!?” he barked, and Rein fell back in surprise.
“T-the Crimson Ritual of course.” He stammered, unsure of Silver’s sudden outburst.
“You shouldn’t be here! Something has gone terribly wrong!” he yelled, and Reinhardt could not help but feel confused.
“But… The Crimson Ceremony, every Thirty years… You went thirty years before me... My mother is-”
“Thirty years? Aetrial? Aetrial is the current Queen of Auryl? What has…? Plunged all of… No-one stopped her?!”
Reinhardt just looked at Silver with a look of confusion and panic on his face.
“I don’t understand. Stop Aetrial? Why? She’s been ruling Auryl with a harsh but fair agenda… I don’t know wha-”
Reinhardt was cut off as a violent tremor knocked him off his feet. Several of the yellow crystals adorning the walls of the room exploded, embedding shards in his face and arms. Silver fiercely grabbed Reinhardt’s arm and dragged him off the ground.
“What’s happening?” he cried.
“Let us go and see the destruction that greed brings upon our land!” Reinhardt threw a bewildered glance at Silver and tried to stand when another explosion of force sent him reeling out of the room and into the shadowy cavern, Silver with him. Scrambling towards the exit, he came to the expanse of white- although it was no longer so.
In the distance, gargantuan bands of black spread across the white, dark grey lightning flashing, splinters of white flurrying around the faraway storm.
“What…?” he gasped.
“The Soul Stone.” Silver breathed quietly behind him, even though his voice was tinged with panic.
“It’s is breaking. I do no know why you are here, Lain, but you should not be. Something as gone incredibly awry.” As if to accentuate his point, an explosion rocked them both several feet forward as the cave collapsed behind them. A huge shard of crystal, at least as big as the castle of Auryl, fell several hundred meters to their left, raining gems the size of men’s heads around the two figures. Reinhardt cowered to the ground, his head covered with his arms; Silver stood, a look of controlled panic and anger set in his iron features. Reaching down as another explosion sent tremors under their feet, he took Reinhardt’s wrist and picked him up off the ground as if he were a rag doll. Closing his eyes as several house-sized fragments of stone fell some yards behind him, Silver lifted his foot, stamping it down with considerable force. A faint, dark fracture ran from where his foot met the ground to several feet away. There it widened; a sable, formless hole of darkness.
“Lain! You must find the re-” Silver was cut short as a gargantuan shock tore through the space around them, releasing Rein from his uncle’s grasp and sending him skittering across the rubble-strewn ground, into the hole. His hands struggling to grip the fast-crumbling edge of the gouge in the white that seemed to lead into never ending darkness, a deep, spreading panic took hold.
“Silver! Help me!”
A transparent fragment of stone dislodged from the murky temporal disturbance high above. As large as several men abreast and many times as heavy, it fell with a sickening whistle towards the blonde prince. He looked up, his stomach sinking. He could do nothing but let go and fall into the gaping shadow.
*
Silver… “SILVER!” Reinhardt sat up gasping for air, his eyes wild with panic and confusion. It was dark; a soft breeze caressed his face, and what sounded like trees were rustling around him. He felt dirt and dead leaves underneath his hands.
“Ugh… Where… Am I?”
And it was thus that Reinhardt Lain’Dor Eckhart, Son of Aetrial Lain’Dor and Prince of Auryl, found himself on the cold ground of the edge of the forest of Concordia.
Skills:
Without a Body, Without a Soul: The awry Crimson Ritual and the sapping of Reinhardt’s Mind, Heart and Soul, while incomplete, has left him with a strange characteristic. Quite simply, he cannot die. While he may be beaten, shot, stabbed, cut, mauled or otherwise wounded, his trans-planar origin combined with his hollowed spirit do not allow for permanent death. If he is damaged to the point of death, even through decapitation or disembowelment, his body will enter a non-animated state. After several weeks pass, the body will begin to regrow and within several days, it will be as if nothing happened- albeit for a painful few weeks afterwards. Keep in mind this does not mean he can withstand any more trauma than a regular human, and is just as quick to dispatch of. Just not as permanently.
Flightless Avian: Although wings attached to the Crystal Sheath can be manipulated as if they were his own, Reinhardt cannot fly or indeed use them very deftly. Best he can attempt is a slow a fall, with limited success.
Crystalism/Jewelcrafting: Reinhardt’s kingdom on his home world focused heavily on magic and the manipulation of energy, especially through the use of jewels and crystals. As the Prince of Auryl, it was Rein’s duty to become a powerful and competent master Jewelcrafter and Crystal Spinner in preparation for the Crimson Ceremony.
Crystalism entails infusing gemstones and crystals with a temporary magical effect that can be utilised in a few ways. Crystal Spinning involves taking an infused crystal and spinning it in mid-air. There it hovers, the vibrations of the particular gem working with its magical infusion to create an area of effect. The effect and its range are dependant on the skill of the Spinner, the gem’s type and quality, and the infusion. A more basic and common way to use infused crystals is by throwing, tapping, breaking or crushing them; although these methods usually only unleash an instant effect. Most infused crystals fracture or break after the infusion is released, rendering them useless.
Jewelcrafting is the creation and enchantment of amulets or pendants and jewels to create either repeatable or permanent effects. It is different to Crystalism in that the process of Jewelcrafting is slow and can often take days and even weeks to complete. Also, the permanent magical properties of the jewels are often weaker than their temporary counterparts, sacrificing power for longevity.
A Light to Guide:
Reagents: Any crystal fit for infusion.
Chanting a quick incantation over the stone, Reinhardt can infuse it with a bright, green light. This can stay illuminated for several hours, but the longer it is used the larger the chance of the crystal fracturing. In times of emergency, the glowing stone can be broken to cause a brilliant flash of light which can illuminate a large area for several minutes. It is not bright enough to blind anyone unless they have severe photosensitivity.
A Flame to Burn:
Reagents: Quartz or any quartz variants. The higher the quality, the better the infusion.
Charging the crystal with energy, it can then be thrown or hit to release a small burst of searing heat upon fracture. Once a crystal is fractured, it cannot be reused.
Equipment:
Geode: A 7’ staff made of clear crystal with a cluster of sharp black gems at both ends, Geode is bound to Reinhardt. Where it came from he does not know, but it was with him when he appeared on Althanas. It has so far proved to be indestructible, although serves little use as of yet. However, the dark gems at the end of the staff can be broken off, new ones growing to take their place in several days. They appear to be a quartz variant.
Gem Pouch: A small black silken bag attached to Rein’s belt, his Gem Pouch can carry up to 20 infused crystals.
The Crystal Sheath: The dark ritual robes worn by Reinhardt in the Crimson Ceremony, they have changed appearance slightly on Althanas. Now an unnatural black, they also have a set of wings growing out of them. How or why they are like this is uncertain.
Hrm. That took a little longer than I would have hoped. Anyway, hey Cyrus, Witchblade. Nice to see you guys again.