Loex'Vutha "Lo" Darastrix'Sjach, Tainted Mage
Aug 28, 2023 12:04:14 GMT -5
Post by Loex on Aug 28, 2023 12:04:14 GMT -5
Loex'Vutha "Lo" Darastrix'Sjach
Gender: Non-Binary
Age: 24
Race: Draconynh
Nationality: Ashlands
Appearance: Standing approximately 5' 6" tall, Lo is small for a Dragonborn, with a gaunt appearance and sharp, bony features. Their ebon-black scales are streaked with green, while a pair of horns curl forward from the sides of their head. Crested with a flexible fin and sharp spines, their expression is often withdrawn and seeming to lack interest in most things. They wear a plain black robe tied with a patchwork leather sash and carry a simple staff of dark stained Willow wood. Their days are spent combing through an unsettling tome, and scavenging the area for food and ingredients for their bizarre experiments.
Personality: Withdrawn and antisocial, Lo often wanders aimlessly mumbling gibberish and prodding at carrion they find. While they do speak to others, it is often in cryptic phrases and strange metaphor. They seek a clarity of purpose and end to the cacophony within, though their traumatized mind can barely keep it's fragments in some semblance of a personality. Still mostly unaware, another entity has hijacked the young mage's soul and invaded their mind. A Fiendish entity of undeath, decay and torture assaults their mind and drives them to profane acts at every chance...
History: Born into a dark and horrid nightmare, Lo has lived a difficult life from the moment they first broke free of their eggshell. A wailing woman stared horrified at the hatchling, bile and vomit staining her velvet dress as she knelt in muck in some dank swamp of twisted darkness and decay. Upon meeting eyes with the newborn, she scrambled back on her hands and knees before getting up and running away. Cold, uncoordinated, the tiny creature tried to shrug out of it's shell. Some ominous and foreboding instinct screamed in their mind they needed to move, to not be in this place any longer. Flopping about, the tiny scaled being expelled every bit of energy it could to climb free of the hole where they'd hatched. Looking back, the putrid scent suddenly made a gruesome sense as their clutch mates had not been so lucky. The tiny creature wailed into the dark and stormy swamp, exhausting itself and passing out.
Bright beams of light cut into the modest room where Lo awakened some time later, a strange woman paced back and forth in a small wooden cottage. Her voice was homely and her plump form waddled about with a strange glee that made Lo uneasy. She spoke quietly to seemingly no one, milling about an elaborate kitchen that filled with tantalizing smells. The muffled, bubbly sound seemed to mesmerize the newborn as they were brought a slab of steaming meat. Drooling, Lo fell upon the heap of precious calories ravenously, a beastly hunger falling upon them. This went on for some time, the mumbling woman feeding her ravenous creature and it obediently obliging. Now plump and filled with stores, the mumbling grew more frantic and aggressive over the following few weeks.
A dark mood fell over the cottage one evening, the woman had been preparing some sort of meal for two days in a large black pot. Foraged ingredients had been added and stirred several times, and the sheer hint of it's scents had been tormenting the poor dragonborn each time the lid was opened. They cried out, warbling and growling and trying to mimic the sounds she made walking about the house. The woman held a gleaming tool in hand, and had been muttering to it for the last while when her reverie was broken. As she turned, Lo fell silent as the grisly face that met his gaze was full of spite and rage and gluttonous hunger. Terror gripped the tiny Dragonborn, who watched as the now screaming woman came charging at them with the strange tool. Gleaming metal had been bent on itself back and forth before reaching a tapered point. Howling, she slashed at the now skittering creature as it flailed and panted for it's very existence.
Cornered, Lo stared at the face of the woman as they relived those first moments of life in vivid detail and sobbed heavily. Her head snapped unnaturally towards the door, which came flying off the hinge a moment later. Frozen, the hatchling watched as a figure in dark robe strode into the room to confront the woman, who began to throw bolts of dark sickly green magic from her free hand. The figure side stepped the first, then shoved a simple wooden pole capped with iron bands into the stream and the spell burst apart. With a flourish, the cloaked figure closed in and brought their staff overhead with a great deal of momentum. While the plump witch managed to throw her arms up, the staff and it's wielder had too much leverage. Her arms went numb as the bones shattered and fell to her sides, and while they'd spread the force out, it wasn't enough. The iron band cracked brittle bone and sent powerful shockwaves into soft tissues. She dropped to the ground, a crimson pool spreading beneath her.
Exhausted, Shocked and Traumatized, the tiny Dragonborn was taken to an orphanage run by the state where they spent the next few years keeping to themselves, barely speaking or showing interest in others. On cold or particularly dark nights, Lo would wake up wailing and cower under their bed. When this was bad enough to wake the other kids, they would often gather in a group and abuse the poor creature. Devoid of a sense of self and seeing no reason they might ever be taken in by others, they began to sneak out at night when the moon was bright out and explore the evening world. Fascinated by the dance of stars, shadows and the workings of the world, they became immersed in learning what made things work. This gained the attention of a mage who regularly did inspections, who tested the child's aptitude for magic.
Days later, the man returned with a colleague and spent a good portion of the morning in the Headmaster's office. The pair exited and waited beside their carriage as one of the Caretakers fetched Lo from the children's hall. The older woman carried the dragonborn out flailing and screaming, dumping the raggedly clothed child into the wagon with venomous words. The two men looked at each other as if disappointed and judging the dirty creature at their feet. The wagon made regular stops along it's journey, where everyone was given modest meals and time to rest before moving on. The caravan traveled in shifts, with wagons for extra personnel to rest between. The group began to dwindle and split off with each passing town, until only the one wagon and the stranger who now traveled alone with Lo.
They arrived at a mansion of deep grey stone speckled with white and black. Accented in darker marble, with carved figures of twisted and nightmarish visage watched from the tops of gaudy pillars as guests strolled down a lifeless paved walkway of gravel and rough stones. A strangeness tugged at the instincts of the youngling, who slowed and watched their surroundings for some unseen threat. When the heavy stone entry way swung open, Lo retreated at first as their nose filled with the putrid smell of decay. It was gone a moment later, replaced by the scent of succulent food and heady flowers. Salivating, the scaly child followed their nose out of sheer habit and a desire for a full belly without a second thought as to why they'd been so terrified a moment before.
The heavy door slammed shut with a startling boom that echoed through the dimly lit halls of the manor. Candles flickered with a dingy light that seemed to struggle against the pervasive darkness of the shadows. A low table was set to one side and a hefty roasted fowl was sitting on a sturdy wooden board. Knowing nothing of manners, the child scrambled up to the table and began to tear away chunks of warm flesh with a gleeful vigor. Enamored by the savory flavor and buttery richness of the meat, Lo did not notice the man approach from behind, or that he had something heavy and dark in his hands. In fact, until it closed with a very final metallic click, the dragonborn didn't notice anything but the pile of dwindling flesh at the end of their muzzle. Their eyes widened in terror as they looked up to the devious grin of the man behind them. He shouted a word and a searing pain shot through the creature who clawed pitifully at the collar now firmly latched. It subsided a minute later, but the man's fury was not so easily quelled. He booted Lo hard across the gut, cracking a rib and sending them sprawling across the room. Overwhelmed, startled and mortified by the realization that their situation had gone from bad to worse again, the creature heaved up all the precious food violently as their guts twisted and cramped. The man watched and laughed, before commanding bizarre servants to clean up the mess. Graciously, the dragonborn passed out before further perturbing their new captor and was hauled off.
Time passed in fits and feverish bursts for an unknown amount of time. Each time Lo was brought a meal, it tasted of bitter chemicals that kept the dragonborn awake for days on end jittering and parched. When finally brought a drink some time later, it tasted oily and vaguely of sour sap and would cause severe hallucinations followed by fits and extreme pain. The man the mage had brought performed cruel experiments on anyone or anything unfortunate enough to be a part of his underground menagerie. Barely aware, years passed and Lo grew, having to be regularly moved to a larger vacant cage. Each time was a terrible shock to the shattered psyche, a reminder that between the hazy hallucinations and agonizing pain was a horror shared amongst many others.
A peculiar scent wafted through the dank dungeon one day as Lo pitched and slept fitfully. They woke alert and scanned the deep gloom, though could see little but the flickering light at the end of the hall. Bloody screams rang out from above, the sounds of metal clashing against metal… a battle was waging. From the shadowy halls, the clanking of metal jangling and banging into things grew louder. Other subjects stirred, their cries and shouts and tantrums drowning out the sound from above as figures cloaked in inky black swept through the lower levels and extracted the tormented beings from the terror of their existence. Scooped up by arms that seemed to defy sight, the dragonborn was shoved through a door that hummed with energy.
They popped out in a brightly lit room of slick metal walls and tall elegant figures dressed in flowing robes of white and gold. Their words were like songs to the dazzled mind of the traumatized mass of beings, who sat enthralled and swaying as others swept over the crowd and took notes as they stopped at each life. Slowly but surely the group was sorted out from worst to least severe and ushered off on carts of clean linen by workers in a soft blue outfit with masks over their faces. After being treated for the many toxins and curses that had been inflicted upon the group, the white robed strangers took each being aside one at a time. When the first few didn't return, the others grew anxious and jittery they'd met some cruel fate.
Several others were taken off before someone finally came for Lo, who resisted at first but was again soothed by the gentle song of one of their voices. While unable to understand or communicate in return, the dragonborn tried their best to appease the melody speakers as they presented bizarre puzzles and games for the youngling. More notes were taken, then one of the pair left the room for a short while. Lo found fascination in colorful blocks of wood with carved shapes on their faces and stacked them in various arrangements until the second person returned. They set a sphere of clear crystal down on a table and beckoned the youngling over. Curious, they scurried across the room and stared at the orb as the person placed their hand upon it. The sphere began to emit a green light that swirled with browns and reds, startling Lo who tumbled off the bench. Beckoned again by the song-voice, they climbed up to the clear ball and put their hands on either side. A purplish, hazy cloud swirled around the edges of the crystal as a shadowy blackness filled it's core. A field of stars swirled in the pitch as bolts of sickly green and purple radiance cut across the maelstrom. The pair stared at each other, then one shook their head and both left the room as the child stared into the abyss.
The next day, Lo found themselves standing on a warm, rainy street with a holey poncho draped over their drenched scales. A stern, lavender skinned woman towered over the children before her with a thin stick of wood marked on it's edges. At first the dragonborn was confused by their stern tone and stared blankly ahead, before their mind filled with a stirring energy. The voices lost their garbled confusion, cut through the haze by a sharp and impatient clarity. The woman lectured the group about their new life at length, before marching them inside a building of stone blocks and wooden beams. Inside, there were dozens of others dressed in similar uniforms. A myriad of insignias and details sorted the members by role and responsibility, or so they were told. Days here passed with format and monotony, but at least there was a bed to sleep on and hot meals for everyone who worked hard. Lo's years passed by with study and hard work, training body and mind to be of use to some part of society as yet mentioned. At the end of the first year, the group was put through a series of tests to determine their aptitudes and growth. This is when Lo finally discovered the meaning to the crystal and it's ability to discern one's affinities for magic.
Soon after, new assignments were handed out to the group. Some were off to military academy to learn the ways of martial combat, others were taken off to become laborers, crafters and smiths. Lastly, the few remaining would be heading to the Arcane Academy to complete their studies and find a path. Books, reports, files and academia filled much of their next seasons. With little break from the feverish routine of life, Lo continued to struggle through it all. The Academy was a tough life, but full of exotic wonders and the knowledge to expand one's horizons. While searching for information about magics and the meaning of every test of affinity they'd taken, the dragonborn came across a tome unlike any other. Bound in a patchwork of leather scraps and inscribed with some kind of strange shimmering symbols, the book seemed to call out.
A hand shook Lo's shoulder as they stared off at the wall, startling them back to reality. Looking up, the attendant informed them the library was closing at it was time to return to the dorms. What had they been researching? There was something important to remember, but what and why? The dragonborn shook the feeling off as dozing off and drew their exhausted body up to make way back to their modest room. Opening the wooden door with a simple brass handle, Lo disrobed and crawled into bed to fitful nightmares of death and terror. They awoke in the gloom of the night, to a starless black sky that flashed with lightning and blasted thunder into the quiet stillness. On the desk at their bedside was an odd book that the scholar felt was familiar yet alien to them. Tracing a hand over it's cover, the words on it's leather swirled in bizarre patterns that ended in jagged sharpness.
Weeks of fitful sleep and inattentive days passed, and Lo would disappear from their duties for countless hours only to be found alone and dazed by another to shuffle off back to the dorms. Most whispered of shock, trauma and abuse, attributing the distant oddness to the circumstances of their entry into the Academy. Slowly, over the following months, the dragonborn seemed to become more closed off and less interested in the duties they'd seemed to enjoy in their earliest days. A malignant voice invaded Lo's dreams, whispering terrible ideas and maddened secrets to the scarred mind and battered soul. It spoke of profane power, secrets of life and death and torment of unspeakable horror… night after night with virulent glee.
As Lo approached maturity, the madness pushed into the edge of every waking moment of their life. A terrible whisper that could not be escaped and beckoned the black scaled scholar to bring torture and pain to any and all. Having barely been able to get through prior classes, they tried to focus on studies to drown out the hellish laughter floating around their psyche. Instructors and Administrators alike had been relentless in recent months in trying to discern the nature of their behaviors, though even Lo couldn't fathom why or seem to recall more than a fuzzy static when questioned about the lapses of time in their study. Flustered, they made changes to the teen's classes and had put them into courses involving demonology and anti-magic study. One instructor seemed to take particular delight in putting Lo in the spotlight, grilling them with only the most obscure and difficult situations.
During practical training one day, the Instructor stepped into the ring opposite Lo. He held a padded staff with familiar comfort, but something about the way he did so made the dragonborn cautious. Striking out with their own weapon, each blow was carefully tapped away with nearly no effort. Growing frustrated at the smug grin on the man's face, they switched tactic and tried for a less than pleasant trick to strike at his shins. Ducking a sweep across the man's midsection, Lo bunched their legs and pressed the staff into the dirt before twisting on their heels. The wood strained before snapping out at the man's shin, to which he leaped clear and brought his own weapon down on the teen's shoulder. A moment of recognition at the move passed over their features before they were slammed into darkness once again.
Dark whispers awoke Lo some time later, who came to in their dorm again. They sat up, trying to peer into the shadows for some clue at the voices. Nothing moved but the flickering shadow of a candle on the desk, and the dancing shapes of the cold meal that had been left. Dragging themselves up, they tossed on a light robe and sat down to devour the food with exhausted sighs. Another sigh cut through the darkness and the dragonborn whirled around, knocking their chair to the floor. "Who's there? Come out!! Show yourself, coward!" shouted the startled and frustrated teen into the night. No response… at first… then a figure stepped from the gloom and into the dim candle light.
"YOU!! Why are you in my room!" Lo exclaimed, backing up into the desk as the same Instructor stared wordlessly at them. Frantic, they grabbed for the wooden utensils and brandished them in some vain effort to protect themselves. "Starting tomorrow, I will be teaching you during your study periods myself. If I have to come looking for you, the regimen will be much more… delightful." He said, before walking away just as mysteriously as they'd appeared. The dragonborn sank to the floor, utensils clattering to the ground as they curled against the desk and stared furiously into the growing gloom until sleep consumed their exhausted mind again.
Another year of relentless training, study and work passed, and while the fitful nightmares and missing periods of time diminished greatly, Lo would still disappear to a secluded corner of the Academy if left to their own devices for more than a short time. The dragonborn still would stare at shadows in the late evening, watch flickering flame dance as if enthralled by some power unseen. Training grew more intense after the Instructor revealed their purpose to the teen, a member of the Crown who sought out outcasts and talents to keep order amongst mages and casters across the land. Using martial techniques and study, the man could bat aside spells of all kinds and even turn them against foes or use them to the benefit of allies. The idea of being able to fight any caster was the sole spark of determination for Lo, who endured the lessons and bruises thankful for reprieve from the madness in the shadows.
Several of the staff, including Lo's mentor, set out for a spring assessment of some of the soon to graduate students. They would be gone for the final two weeks of break leading into the next year's lessons. The dragonborn tried to maintain their vigorous training, but with no partner grew distracted quickly. The next day, the teen disappeared after breakfast and secluded themselves in a dusty storeroom that was seldom used. Two weeks seemed to pass in a tortured blink, and people had been whispering rumors of Lo's disappearance. When the Instructors finally found the scholar, they were mortified by the discovery. Rats were pinned to rough boards with crude nails, dissected, maggots and carrion feeders infested the room. Profane symbols were scrawled across the walls and floor, encircled in bones and various other harvested parts. One person stepped out of the room and lost their meal to a bucket as the others backed out to discuss what to do. Lo noticed none of this, their green eyes milky and unfocused as they mumbled softly and rocked on the floor amidst the gore.
Lo awoke on a hard stone floor, cold and clammy against their scales. A steel torch complained as a dank breeze blew through the tall corridor outside. A pattern of barred shadows danced against the stacked slab wall, prompting the dragonborn to sit up and take a closer look at their surroundings. An iron barred wall with a heavy gate made the strange pattern and a slab of stone with a splintered hole set into one end served as both bed and privy… this was the dungeon, where miscreants and those who posed a threat to the Academy or Crown were sent. Why were they here? When did they get here? What were they being accused of? They'd done nothing wrong… but couldn't recall much of what happened after the Instructors had left for the pre-year training… What day was it? Something… hazy… aaaggghh… Lo grabbed their head and cried out as a jolting, acrid pain and darkness pushed back against their probing. A cacophony of laughter and tortured screaming followed as they writhed on the floor.
"Now now little whelpling, I cannot have you digging about and disturbing my hard work… our hard work… not until it's ripened for harvest… hehehehhhhahahahahhahahAHAHAHAH!!!" A grinning visage with glowing yellow orbs and jarring features dropped down from the shadow of the ceiling, laughing maniacally. "Your existence is mine now, your power will belong to me in time… and I shall enjoy twisting every tiny joy and distraction to my own ends. Farewell Loex'Vutha Darastrix'Sjach, may your name become the infamy and terror of this realm…" The shadows raced forward, maw opening wide to engulf the prone lizard who stared terrified into the seemingly inevitable oblivion. The next morning, aching and startled by the clatter of a small bowl against the stone floor, Lo crawled across to hungrily devour the meager bits of scrap and foul water, famished for some inexplicable reason. The face… they remembered the smoldering gaze and hideous laughter and looked around the room at every shadow. There it was, in the darkened corner against the wall between cells… a patchwork tome with strange crimson writing.
Stripped of their old life, Lo only received one visitor over their stay in the dungeon. Their mentor had come by but only stared solemnly into the cell for a short while before leaving without a word. No matter, what could such mundane creatures know of their own reality? Wait… what?! After the man had spent countless hours tirelessly instructing the young dragonborn to fight against this madness in every form… confusion and pain flooded their mind again. Days stretched on into months, bitter cold and steaming warmth seemed unable to break Lo from their peculiar state as it worsened. Late at night, they would start to scream about horrific torture before descending into unsettling cackling laughter that would echo through the ward. Darkness, death and madness consumed their every thought as they feverishly combed the pages of a tome they couldn't begin to make sense of for even a moment.
One night, in a strangely lucid moment, Lo sat curled against the bars of their cell, clinging to the meager light coming between the bars. A pair of golden eyes stared with glee from across the room, waiting, watching patiently as the dragonborn quivered in fear. A guard came in and demanded they move away from the door… away from the light… They began sobbing profusely and begging the surly veteran not to leave the flickering torchlight. He responded by walking over to the wall, taking the torch from it's holster and capping it's flame. An unnatural quiet filled the gloom as he turned back. A small beam of light pierced the darkness from outside to reveal that Lo was no longer cowering by the door… though they couldn't be seen in the cell's inky blackness either. The guard opened the door and stepped inside, turning to secure the latch before searching for the cowering mage. The edges of his vision darkened as a sickening purple-black light punched it's way through the man's torso. He flailed for a moment, trying to reach for a whistle on his belt before falling to the floor as his life spilled out on the stone. Quiet as a wraith, Lo disappeared from the halls and has eluded authorities since by living a secluded life away from the wider world.