Elymas

[Elymas]

Elymas faithful one. The pathway is broken and the signs are unclear and I don't know the reasons why You brought me here Basic Information: Race: Human - Benshira Birthday and Age: 45th Summer, 481 A.V.; 30 Gender: Male Physical description: Elymas is nearly six feet tall, with black hair and piercing blue eyes. His skin is naturally golden, an attractice mark of his heritage. Where once he was heavy with muscle, perhaps even the tiniest bit soft from the affections of his mother, he is now lean and hard, the difficulty of his circumstances whittling away at the weight he once carried. He still strikes an imposing figure, broad shoulders and strong hands enough to accomplish that. The beauty that he was chosen for, however, has been marred. He has a collection of scars across his torso, and a single, thin one that trails from the corner of his right eye down along his cheek. Apart from this, there are few distinguishing marks, except perhaps the Y emblazoned into his palm. (Pending gnosis approval.) But just because You love me the way that You do I'm gonna walk through the valley if You want me to Character Concept: Elymas is a man who, at his core, wants to go home. It is the biggest part of his story. He lived most of his life perfectly happy in the desert, with his family and his God. He is an avid follower of Yahal, seeking his strength to persevere even in the midst of the turmoil his life has become in that familiar figure. His faith keeps his hope alive, even as he struggles through each day, hoping that the next might be the one that leads him home. Elymas is an intelligent man. He is quick to pick up new skills, and clever in their use. He is a survivor, unwilling to let go of his belief that one day he will be reunited with all that was stolen from him. He is a good man, through and through, though circumstances have often been debasing for him and forced him to act in ways he would never admit to. Faithful and true, he attempts to follow the edicts and mores of Yahal even in the most difficult of circumstances. He understands, however, that sometimes he has to act against his own conscience in order to stay alive. Cause I'm not who I was when I took my first step and I'm clinging to the promise You're not through with me yet History: Elymas was born in the dead of the night, his strong cry piercing the moonless darkness and bringing light and warmth to his mother’s heart. She had been barren for the first decade of her marriage and had spent those years pleading with Yahal for a son. Elymas was the answer to those prayers. He grew up in the desert of his homeland, learning to revere the great Yahal and to tend the herds, craft the things needed for life and sustenance in such a bitter land. Life was mostly uneventful for Elymas. His parents protected and cared for him, his siblings made him happy, and he loved being a part of the Benshira. His mother reminded him every night that he was a gift from Yahal, an answer to her desperate prayers. And so he grew with a deep love for the God of his fathers, so much so that when he was only a tiny boy he used to pile rocks high and pretend they were an altar upon which he could offer his favorite toy or snack as an offering to the Mighty One. He learned the art of copying their holy text and became quite skilled at transferring it with perfect duplication, and he tossed himself wholeheartedly into this task. In his late teens Elymas was visited by Yahal, and marked in His name. Elymas had loved his God with all of his heart before, but having actually seen the lines on that kind face, having felt the touch of a God.. well, his zeal and passion reached all new levels. Elymas couldn’t breathe if not to sing His praises. Elymas took a wife, Rashael, who was quiet and subdued, but had a heart true for Yahal as well. Together they began to create a family, three sons born to them in as many years. From the first moment he held his children in his hands Elymas would speak of Yahal’s greatness, telling them great stories and singing sweet words of worship as their lullabies. Life, for Elymas, was perfect. As his family migrated toward feeding grounds for their herds, Elymas was called away to his father’s tents. The old man was dying, and his sweet, soft-faced mother was heartbroken over the loss. He stayed for as long as he could manage, and then bade them goodbye – promising to return with Rashael and their children by the next nightfall. It was the most unfortunate case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Elymas happened upon a small caravan where he could see only weeping children, little faces bloody and wet with salty tears. He stopped, of course. He couldn’t possibly know that, as he swept tiny, trembling forms into his arms that his kindness would be his downfall. Before he could even get the oldest of the children to explain what had happened, they returned. He was nothing against the swarm of them, and for a man who had battled bandits and fought off wild animals all of his life, nothing could prepare him for what he witnessed. Whatever had become of the adults, the children were little more than a snack. Elymas fought blindly to protect them, to save them, but even the gift of Yahal wasn’t enough. He was injured greatly, they were lost, and the world went black. He awoke to find himself in a place that completely lacked natural light. As his wounds healed he realized that it was a cavern of some sort, and his only companions were the monsters who had stolen him away, or other unfortunate souls like him. Slaves. Life was miserable for Elymas, who ran out of tears for all that he had witnessed, all that he had lost. He numbly went through the day, doing as was commanded of him – whatever menial labor they required. He spent nearly two years like this, wasting the strength of his body on the beasts that were his captors. Until, at least, a certain Zith happened to be by the quarry where he was working. She was a collector, of sorts. A breeder in search of fresh genes for her pool. She coveted Ely’s dark hair and his piercing blue eyes, and soon he found himself occupied in an entirely different manner. His job, now, was to couple with the dozens of female slaves she possessed. She also taught him to ferry secrets about, to craft them in his own hand, to perceive what was written in order to return information to her. This job was the least terrible of the two. Every night his bed was filled with a new 'lover' for the sake of procreation. Half of them were simple humans, not so much different than himself. The others were all different races, creating strange hybrids out of their unions. It was miserable. Every night Elymas would pray for hours to Yahal, pleading for his mercies and his forgiveness. Every time a slave would be found with child, he would weep over its soul, it’s misfortune. He would refuse food, fasting in misery over the lot that had befallen him. His faith faltered, weakened, tested by the situation Yahal had yet to save him from. How could he go on creating innocent prey for these monsters? What was the purpose of living if Yahal had abandoned him and he his family? Elymas attempted to kill himself more than once, but his keeper became alert to it and kept him under a watchful eye nearly all of the time. This intense scrutiny led to the Zith’s near obsession with her slave, as she watched the tenderness with which he treated those she forced him to breed with. Eventually she summoned him to her personal pool, where she reclined in the inky black waters. She ordered him to disrobe, and he obeyed. She ordered him into the waters, and he followed. She ordered him to kiss her the way he kissed them, and Ely dipped his head to press gentle lips to the curve of her shoulder, just as he had the human who had shared his bed the night before. His keeper was enthralled with the affections he bestowed upon her, even if it took every ounce of his determination to remain rooted where he was. He knew he likely would not survive this coupling, as being a plaything of the Zith was never easy. And so, in the midst of their coupling, when her guard was down, Elymas drowned his Zith lover. His escape was difficult, and took days to fully accomplish. When he was free, however, Elymas ran for days and days. Cyphrus was an enormous mystery to the Benshira, but he could follow the stars, and he headed in the direction he thought to be home. Eventually he stopped, holing up in a cave he happened upon to prostrate himself before Yahal and weep over the sins of his captivity, including the murder that had granted his escape. He had absolutely nothing to give in offering, and so he sliced his palm and allowed his own blood to sizzle into the flames. Yahal had never commanded such an offering of His people, but Elymas had nothing else to give. He was locked away in his cave for two days and two nights before his spiritual state was well enough that he could move on. In this more calculated attempt to continue on his way, he plotted distances and foraged for food, feeling optimistic about life and the possibility of holding his children, who had been without him for over four years, once more. Along this journey he happened upon a young man who could change his form. Theirs was a distrustful beginning but once they realized the other was, literally, in the same position it became most logical to work together. When Ely learned that Xnn was the result of mating in a Zith colony, his guilt resurfaced. He was responsible for young creatures like this, helpless, innocent things. He apologized to Xnn, whether he understood it or not, and vowed to do anything he could to help the youth reach safety. Perhaps that would, in a very small way, begin to atone for the misery he had undoubtedly created. They traveled together a short while, and Elymas was beginning to feel a bit like himself again – though the soft edges, the blind optimism about life would be forever lost. One night, however, the encampment they had carefully created was happened upon by a group of bandits. They went for Xnn first, and Elymas was blinded with rage and the need to keep his word, to protect the helpless. And so he used the other-worldly strength Yahal had given him access to and managed to fight them off, demanding that Xnn run, even when he hedged. Eventually Xnn was obedient and disappeared into the dark night. Eventually, Elymas was overcome and found himself enslaved yet again. His journey was a slow, miserable one, but eventually Elymas was sold off to slavers in Ahnatep, with nothing more than his own scars, fresh wounds, and the determination to somehow, someday, make it home again. Skills: Cryptography 30/100 (15 SP, 15 RB) Forgery 15/100 (20 SP) Glyphing 10/100 (10 SP) Unarmed Combat 10/100 (10 SP) Gnosis: Ennervism - 1 Mark (Pending) Lore: Religion of Yahal Knowledge of Zith Culture Languages: Shiber - Fluent Common - Basic Zithanese - Poor Equipment: 1 Set of Clothing (cloak/coat & footwear included) 1 Waterskin 1 Backpack which contains: 1 Set of Toiletries (comb, brush, razor, soap) Food for a week or 1 bottle of embalming fluid (for Nuits) 1 eating knife Flint & Steel Ledger: Balance - 0 So if all of these trials bring me closer to You I will walk through the fire if You want me to Thread List: