Stryful_Blood
07-08-07, 04:56 AM
Name: Stryfus Vlosogglinn
Age: 129
Race: 1/2 Elf, 1/2 Drow
Hair Color: Nearly black with platinum streaks
Eye Color: Crimson
Height: 6' 1"
Weight: 189 lbs
Occupation: Asshole
Personality: Angry and distant, Stryfe is not a man of many words. While his emotions run deep, he cares not to show them. He has all the worst traits of Drow selfishness and Elvin politeness, making for a world class jerk. His disgust for any and all Raiaerans runs deeper than a normal Alerian's should, but it pales in comparison to his contempt for himself.
Appearance: Stryfus has dark hair that almost appears to be a dull matte black, interspersed with a fine layering of platinum streaks that seem to shine like beacons from the darkness. For that metaphor alone, he hates himself all the more. His eyes are crimson, as if blood had pooled in the irises, and his pupils are sometimes swallowed into invisibility by the strange hue. His coloring is as pale as any elf's, and a red tattoo stands out harshly against the wan background of his skin. The tattoo is of the Drow symbol for the phoenix, which is a cursed animal among the subterranean clans.
He wears a long sleeved dark gray shirt, and a pair of black slacks.
History:
Skills: Dirzyl Arabarn was a beautiful maiden among Drow. Her smile and face was legendary, even among the elves that lived near the Alerian border. She succeeded in all things that had to do with beauty and grace, including the art of dance. A drifter at heart, she wandered with a caravan of Salvic performers, who routinely swept up and down the border between the two hostile nations. The thing that many people forget is that not all elves are kind and gentle. There are madmen among them, murderers and rapists. While these strange personalities don't run as rampant as they do among humans and Drow, they still run, quietly under the cover of night. The rape of a Drow woman by a Raiaeran elf is rare, but it has happened. It happened on a dark and stormy night, when Dirzyl's pleas for help and mercy went unheard.
When a pale child was born, crying in a voice that was almost heavenly, Dirzyl lost what little heart she had left. She resolved to drown the baby, letting it rot in whatever hell it's cursed blood would take it. As she approached the river, however, she found that she was getting weak. Her steps grew heavy, and she could not hold the child any longer. She collapsed on the ground, curling her body around the child who cried for her milk, but whom she had no intentions of feeding. It regarded her with the same serious expression that she knew graced her features, and she knew in her heart that it hated her as much as she despised it. She made many attempts afterwards to kill it, but each time, she found that she simply could not.
One day, not being able to stand the failed attempts to kill the boy, who had become her Stryfe, she sought the assistance of a powerful warlock. He placed a spell on the child, and told Dirzyl that the powers that were developing inside him would sleep forever, or at least until a matching soul to his was born. He cautioned her, however, that should he die in infancy, a terrible curse would come down upon her. And so, she resolved to wait until he was walking and talking, in fear of what might happen to her if she didn't.
She never got a chance, however, to lay him to rest. When he was 5 years old, still just a baby to elves, something strange happened. When Stryfe's crying refused to quell, Dirzyl raised her hand to strike him. Again, like those times she had tried to end his life, she felt weak. Too tired to fight anymore, and angry with the child for being such a waste of oxygen, she gave him up for adoption. He was taken in by a pair of humans living as miners in Alerar, but his rocky childhood had already had time to set in. He grew up hating them for not being Drow, and hating himself for being tainted with the blood of the pale ones.
On his 50th birthday, he decided to leave his foster father, who would soon be following his foster mother's footsteps into the afterlife. Without so much as a goodbye, he went searching for his birth mother, whose name he bore on his quickly deteriorating soul. It took him 25 years of wandering Alerar to find her, but when he did, he stood before her proud and angry. She could not hide her hate for him, and when all was said and done, her blood pooled around his feet. The feelings it invoked, staring at her lifeless form, brought a disgust so strong to his mind that he wanted to stop it at all costs.
He could feel the emotion burbling under his skin like a monster, and so he cut to let it out. He didn't want those feelings, those colorful splashes in the darkness inside. It felt foreign and hated, and so he let it out the best he knew how, in blood.
Before his mother died, she told the story of his childhood, and how she could never kill him. For over 50 more years he wandered, searching for someone who shared his talents, his dark soul, and searching for a way to strengthen his powers, to bring down the unworthy.
Skills:
Heightened Senses
Being of Elven blood, Stryfe has hearing and eye sight the equivalent of 1.5x that of a normal human.
Blood Touch
This is Stryfe's bloodmage ability. He can manipulate the blood of others.
Currently: He can mapiulate 2 oz. of blood for the following spell skills
---Fatigue - If he is touching the skin of a bleeding person, it opens up channels for him to thin the blood in their brain, causing them to grow tired. Once the person falls to sleep and he releases his hold, the blood again thickens and they can be roused normally. He can only keep blood thin for 30 seconds. This skill is non lethal. This skill must be approved by opponent to be used.
---Heal: He can manipulate blood smeared on a small wound to cause it to clot faster, stemming the flow. This does not close up skin, rid infections or poisons. It merely stops bleeding twice as quickly as the targets normal immune system. He must be touching the wound. Mortal wounds cannot be healed. The Skill must be approved by an opponent to be used on them.
Stab
Light dagger skills. Against the majority populace, he has an edge, but anyone trained in bladed combat, and he's toast.
Equipment:
Silver Dagger - Olath Zanjur
Taken from his mother after he killed her, it carries hieroglyphs in ancient Drow calling it The One who Brings the Darkness. It appears to be a simple silver dagger.
Languages
Stryfe speaks Drow and Tradespeak, but refuses to ruin his tongue with Elvish.
Age: 129
Race: 1/2 Elf, 1/2 Drow
Hair Color: Nearly black with platinum streaks
Eye Color: Crimson
Height: 6' 1"
Weight: 189 lbs
Occupation: Asshole
Personality: Angry and distant, Stryfe is not a man of many words. While his emotions run deep, he cares not to show them. He has all the worst traits of Drow selfishness and Elvin politeness, making for a world class jerk. His disgust for any and all Raiaerans runs deeper than a normal Alerian's should, but it pales in comparison to his contempt for himself.
Appearance: Stryfus has dark hair that almost appears to be a dull matte black, interspersed with a fine layering of platinum streaks that seem to shine like beacons from the darkness. For that metaphor alone, he hates himself all the more. His eyes are crimson, as if blood had pooled in the irises, and his pupils are sometimes swallowed into invisibility by the strange hue. His coloring is as pale as any elf's, and a red tattoo stands out harshly against the wan background of his skin. The tattoo is of the Drow symbol for the phoenix, which is a cursed animal among the subterranean clans.
He wears a long sleeved dark gray shirt, and a pair of black slacks.
History:
Skills: Dirzyl Arabarn was a beautiful maiden among Drow. Her smile and face was legendary, even among the elves that lived near the Alerian border. She succeeded in all things that had to do with beauty and grace, including the art of dance. A drifter at heart, she wandered with a caravan of Salvic performers, who routinely swept up and down the border between the two hostile nations. The thing that many people forget is that not all elves are kind and gentle. There are madmen among them, murderers and rapists. While these strange personalities don't run as rampant as they do among humans and Drow, they still run, quietly under the cover of night. The rape of a Drow woman by a Raiaeran elf is rare, but it has happened. It happened on a dark and stormy night, when Dirzyl's pleas for help and mercy went unheard.
When a pale child was born, crying in a voice that was almost heavenly, Dirzyl lost what little heart she had left. She resolved to drown the baby, letting it rot in whatever hell it's cursed blood would take it. As she approached the river, however, she found that she was getting weak. Her steps grew heavy, and she could not hold the child any longer. She collapsed on the ground, curling her body around the child who cried for her milk, but whom she had no intentions of feeding. It regarded her with the same serious expression that she knew graced her features, and she knew in her heart that it hated her as much as she despised it. She made many attempts afterwards to kill it, but each time, she found that she simply could not.
One day, not being able to stand the failed attempts to kill the boy, who had become her Stryfe, she sought the assistance of a powerful warlock. He placed a spell on the child, and told Dirzyl that the powers that were developing inside him would sleep forever, or at least until a matching soul to his was born. He cautioned her, however, that should he die in infancy, a terrible curse would come down upon her. And so, she resolved to wait until he was walking and talking, in fear of what might happen to her if she didn't.
She never got a chance, however, to lay him to rest. When he was 5 years old, still just a baby to elves, something strange happened. When Stryfe's crying refused to quell, Dirzyl raised her hand to strike him. Again, like those times she had tried to end his life, she felt weak. Too tired to fight anymore, and angry with the child for being such a waste of oxygen, she gave him up for adoption. He was taken in by a pair of humans living as miners in Alerar, but his rocky childhood had already had time to set in. He grew up hating them for not being Drow, and hating himself for being tainted with the blood of the pale ones.
On his 50th birthday, he decided to leave his foster father, who would soon be following his foster mother's footsteps into the afterlife. Without so much as a goodbye, he went searching for his birth mother, whose name he bore on his quickly deteriorating soul. It took him 25 years of wandering Alerar to find her, but when he did, he stood before her proud and angry. She could not hide her hate for him, and when all was said and done, her blood pooled around his feet. The feelings it invoked, staring at her lifeless form, brought a disgust so strong to his mind that he wanted to stop it at all costs.
He could feel the emotion burbling under his skin like a monster, and so he cut to let it out. He didn't want those feelings, those colorful splashes in the darkness inside. It felt foreign and hated, and so he let it out the best he knew how, in blood.
Before his mother died, she told the story of his childhood, and how she could never kill him. For over 50 more years he wandered, searching for someone who shared his talents, his dark soul, and searching for a way to strengthen his powers, to bring down the unworthy.
Skills:
Heightened Senses
Being of Elven blood, Stryfe has hearing and eye sight the equivalent of 1.5x that of a normal human.
Blood Touch
This is Stryfe's bloodmage ability. He can manipulate the blood of others.
Currently: He can mapiulate 2 oz. of blood for the following spell skills
---Fatigue - If he is touching the skin of a bleeding person, it opens up channels for him to thin the blood in their brain, causing them to grow tired. Once the person falls to sleep and he releases his hold, the blood again thickens and they can be roused normally. He can only keep blood thin for 30 seconds. This skill is non lethal. This skill must be approved by opponent to be used.
---Heal: He can manipulate blood smeared on a small wound to cause it to clot faster, stemming the flow. This does not close up skin, rid infections or poisons. It merely stops bleeding twice as quickly as the targets normal immune system. He must be touching the wound. Mortal wounds cannot be healed. The Skill must be approved by an opponent to be used on them.
Stab
Light dagger skills. Against the majority populace, he has an edge, but anyone trained in bladed combat, and he's toast.
Equipment:
Silver Dagger - Olath Zanjur
Taken from his mother after he killed her, it carries hieroglyphs in ancient Drow calling it The One who Brings the Darkness. It appears to be a simple silver dagger.
Languages
Stryfe speaks Drow and Tradespeak, but refuses to ruin his tongue with Elvish.