Airell

[Airell]

Airell 'Like through the misty clouds a greywing soars, like that through the mists of the ages I walk, and know the Gods it is a song like light and a wailing shadow both.' General Information Race: Nuit Gender: Male Date of Birth: 12th of Fall, 413 BV Age: 926 years old Physical Appearance As with all of the Manyborn, Airell's visage is an unstable thing, changing as he changes bodies, but that is where the general similarity ends. Unlike most Nuits, the man has not shed this trapping of lost mortality like he has so many others - there is definitely a strong theme to his choices of bodies, remaining fixed as centuries pass. If he happened to cross paths with a familiar from ten years in the past, he would almost certainly be recognised - the face may be different, but the rest is not; despite all the impracticalities that come with this, the Nuit inhabits bodies of men near the end of their lives, and yet that is not the only constant - the vessel is always human, long of hair and long of beard, always tall and never with too much fat on his bones. And, as if this were not enough, Airell takes his attachment still further; before time can reduce his garments to dust, he has an exact copy - as exact as it can be, at least - sewn, thus carrying the fashion of dead Alahea - in principle, at least, as, apart from the embroidery on his cloak, the man's clothing did not actually reflect the nation's style in any specific way even when he was truly alive. This kind of attachment to a particular form brings many problems that a Nuit could easily do without - Airell has to plan each transfer weeks - if not months - in advance, choosing and hunting down the perfect candidate with careful precision. The man himself admits that the process can be a hindrance and generally distasteful at times - the hunting part of it especially; were it up to him, he would wait for his targets to die naturally, which, unfortunately, is rarely possible - but he refuses to take an easier route unless it is absolutely unavoidable. Airell claims that all this is to preserve an image as close to his original self as possible, although how well the Nuit manages that is questionable, as his memories of pre-Valterrian times have begun to slowly fade. Character Concept It is night; there is darkness in the woods. The moon is sitting above the treetops, but there is no light. Now it shimmers, shifts out of focus as if a God were adjusting the lens of the looking glass through which he watched the world, and now it's back again, and you are in another place entirely. There is music. Now a wind rises, a strong wind, and it goes through the needles of these trees. The needles whisper, and the wind whistles on; you follow it, and now you hear a groan. There is a wheel in the woods; it turns ever so slowly, pulling threads, and it groans. Beside it stands a man, watching it turn; his name is Airell. Once in a while he adjusts one of those threads. Once in a while he ties a new thread to the wheel, or removes one, a cold vibe to the movement of his hand and a kind smile twisting his lips, a detached air around him and excitement glinting in his eyes. At first glance, Airell may seem to be as far-removed from the world and its troubles as any other old Nuit, and, undeniably, there is some truth to that. Time - truly great lengths of it - has overturned the cauldron of boiling passions that he kept heated inside of him in his life, thus spilling its roiling contents into the maw of endless existence - thus leaving a different man, his heart a void waiting to be filled with colder things. These colder things now dominate most of Airell's outward psyche, forming an image of a greatly philosophical creature that hovers an inch above the grit of life, seemingly preferring to observe reality and, sometimes, attempt to tweak it to his liking rather than actively engage himself in it. Yet to the perspicacious eye, this cold, calculating, and sometimes even manipulative exterior is but a small side of this man - an unintended veneer, in a way. To Airell, this kind of demeanor comes naturally - hardly ever does the Nuit think about the way he presents himself to those around him, and even when he does, the man's attempts to bridge the distance between him and the rest of the world usually crumble miserably into dust - but that does not mean it reflects what goes on inside him. The work Airell does and the tasks and challenges he undertakes rarely match the aloof way he carries himself - many a time has he displayed some sort of strong will and altruism - thus denying the air of detachment he wears like a second skin; occasional flights of involved, if muted, ardour declaim that all is not yet dead and frozen at the man's core - just as strongly as his attachment to certain aspects of bygone mortality suggest that the Nuit is not as far above the living world as he may seem to be. That is not to say that Airell is a lively epitome of selflessness and compassion - truth to tell, he is still far from it; the man's darkened existence has instilled in him a habit to seek some kind of gain, and while his newfound purpose in the world is a constant source of excitement, it rarely shows on the surface. It has not always been this way, however. In his life, Airell was a man defined by everything that now hides beneath many coldly stoic layers - a man able to find joy in the smallest of things, a researcher passionate about his work, a kind-hearted citizen with a hand to offer. What makes the Nuit's undead existence particularly difficult to bear is the fact that he remembers all of this - he knows exactly what he used to be like, and the inability to summon the drive he has lost at some point in the passage of time and be that person again is a bottomless pool of pain. This inner torment abated with Airell's most recent discovery of a purpose, but nothing has been stable in his life since that fateful Daek-nuit, and so the man's self-search still goes on on some small level. History The first light that Airell saw in this world was the light of a quiet evening in Nial - a light that painted streets red and the sky orange. A beautiful thing, that, though he had no appreciation for it then - by the sound of his cries, appreciation for anything was a thing far beyond him. That was not meant to last for long, of course; for better or for worse, life changed things to suit its liking soon enough. Time passes quickly, and even more so in the memory of a mind as old as Airell's. Time passed quickly then, too, if not at such a racing pace. Airell grew under the watchful gaze of his loving if rather reticent parents, the frame of normality a perfect fit for his childhood days. He had all the cultural inclinations typical to those who made Nial their home, but that did not mean the boy connected with the world around him easily. There was a gap - an idealistic one, mostly - and he just was not meant to cross it - brushes felt awkward in his hand and melodies tripped and fell rather than flowed off his tongue, and damned be the Gods if he did not all but shudder at the thought of a man wasting his years away with such idle things. Never let it be said that Airell faced an aimless day in his life, however; for him, dreams were in no short supply, and the one that led him forward without cease was not at all uncommon in Alahea - even in his youth he knew that he wanted be one of those that wielded powers beyond the world's surface, and that knowledge never left him. The time of men like Zarik Mashaen and women like Areesa Tallshade was still far in the future then, but with his father a Shielder in service of the Empire, his mother a more than decent Magecrafter, and stories of the Seven Robes' greatness breeding like rats on the streets, there was no shortage of idols to inspire the child either. Perhaps it was this inspiration or perhaps it was something else, but this dream was one he eventually followed through with, if not how he had imagined he would. As a young man, Airell left his home to live in Treval, hoping to be apprenticed to a willing wizard, and that part of his plan went just fine, which, unfortunately, could not be said about the rest of it. Years passed and the man, gripped by his desire to try everything the field had to offer and failing to find a subject he would want to devote himself to in full, drifted from discipline to discipline and from master to master. And so, at the end of it all, he found himself with no more knowledge than he had brought to Treval; the results of his unfocused work equated to nothing, and if it did not exactly come as a surprise, Airell still left the capital disappointed. It was on Airell's way back to Nial that luck finally chose to shine upon him - a wandering wizard, and, as he would later found out, a creature that was not a man at all, let it slip that he had been looking for an apprentice for some time, and, as a final uninspired attempt, Airell mentioned that he had been looking for a master. Eventually, it turned out so that the Nuit, satisfied with the unassuming child's naivety and willingness to learn, accepted him as an apprentice; the wizard charmed the young man with tales of eternal life being within man's reach, spun his head with promises of all the possibilities that it could bring to one such as Airell - to someone who longed to try everything a man could try, feel everything a man could feel - and, strangely, Airell found himself believing the ridiculous man; still perplexed by the effects the Nuit's words seemed to have on him, he found himself placing his trust in that man, and ending his frantic search for the best of paths as he - unbelievably - settled on a specific field of the mystical arts, a thing called Reimancy. This strange apprenticeship lasted for decades upon decades, until, as promised, the ancient wizard spirited Airell, much older now, out of the cluthes of untimely death, helping him embrace eternity as a Nuit. The centuries that followed held the best and brightest years in Airell's truly long life - he had successfully thrown off the shackles of time, and was free to follow his scholarly pursuits as he wished, with an eternity for whatever else may capture his attention on the side; it was a blessed kind of life that Airell lived then, but, as for all Nuits, for him it was not meant to last. Eventually, immortality lost its glamour and its luster, revealing a state of being far less appealing than its sparkling coating implied. As years passed, the pit Airell found himself trapped in only deepened, earth crumbling beneath his feet again and then again; it was an unsettling place, that pit - decay ruled there with apathy and sorrow and disillusionment and its side. Airell was forced to watch with horror as his heaven crumbled, and its light failed, and its green things died, and then there was nothing but darkness, shadow and death and darkness, and he wanted to weep and he wanted to wail for dreams lost, for joy lost, and that was when the darkest of all days dawned, with the Valterrian not too many years in the past - a tragic thing, but its pain was lost to Airell then - and fear and fire and smoke still strong in the air; the darkest of all days dawned, and Airell wept for all that he had lost and for all that he still would, and his last pyre burned, and Airell wept, and then his tears brought an epiphany. Those tears, that pain, they were a measure of how closely tied he was to the world - the world was something he did not want to lose, and therein, Airell realised, lay the meaning and purpose of his deformed existence. He had wanted to feel and know the whole world once, and now he was surprised to find that flame rekindled by his sorrow - the world, it was such a different place now, with so many new things to offer. It would be a crime to leave without touching and feeling and seeing everything this place, suddenly more beautiful than ever, had to offer. And so, Airell was cast into the forge's flames and wrought anew. He chose a wanderer's life, longing to explore everything that the world and life held hidden, as likely to be captivated by the beauty of the land as by the deepest of philosophical ponderings. Airell still travels the world now, involving himself in various causes now and then, but all is not yet well - his passions may have been lit again, but years and fading memories weigh heavily on the man still, thus driving his spiritual search still further. Knowledge and Possessions   Skills Skill Type Points Acquisition Proficiency Embalming In. 10/100 10 RB Novice Intelligence In. 5/100 5 SP Novice Land Navigation In. 7/100 7 SP Novice Meditation In. 8/100 8 SP Novice Reimancy In. 20/100 20 SP Novice Rhetoric In. 5/100 5 SP Novice Wilderness Survival In. 5/100 5 SP Novice   Lores Lore Thread Shelter in the Wildlands N/A (Starting Package) The Streets of Sahova N/A (Starting Package)   Languages Language Fluency Common Fluent* Ancient Tongue Basic * Airell's dialect of common is riddled with all kinds of old-fashioned and sometimes outright strange constructions - courtesy of his ancient Alahean origins, no doubt - which, when mixed with more modern linguistic mannerisms that he has picked up over the last few centuries, make his speech as confusing as the sky is tall.   Housing None, apart from a simple tent - which is currently set up outside of Zeltiva - that Airell sometimes uses to hide from the harshness of weather.   Possessions Clothing High Leather Boots (Starting Package) Cotton Breeches (Starting Package) Embroidered Linen Cloak Linen Doublet (Starting Package) Embroidered Linen Hood Linen Robes Linen Sash Cotton Shirt (Starting Package) Linen Undergarments (Starting Package) Heirloom Ancient Alahean Ouroboros Cloak Pin (Silver Brooch) Miscellaneous Brush (Starting Package) Comb (Starting Package) Flint & Steel (Starting Package) Eating Knife (Starting Package) Hooded Lantern 1-Pint Flask of Oil Razor (Starting Package) Hemp Rope, 50 ft. Soap (Starting Package) Tinder, x3 Torch, x2 Shelter One-Person Tent Necessities Bottle of Embalming Fluid (Starting Package) Waterskin (Starting Package) Storage Backpack (Starting Package)   Ledger Date Type Description Amount Total --- Initial Starting Package +100 gm 100 gm --- Initial Shelter Cashed In +500 gm 600 gm --- Purchase Embroidered Linen Cloak -25 sm 597 gm 5 sm --- Purchase Embroidered Linen Hood -25 cm 597 gm 2 sm 5 cm --- Purchase Linen Robes -1 gm 596 gm 2 sm 5 cm --- Purchase Linen Sash -1 sm 596 gm 1 sm 5 cm --- Purchase Hooded Lantern -7 gm 589 gm 1 sm 5 cm --- Purchase 1-Pint Flask of Oil -1 sm 589 gm 5 cm --- Purchase Hemp Rope, 50 ft. -1 gm 588 gm 5 cm --- Purchase Tinder, x3 -3 cm 588 gm 2 cm --- Purchase One-Person Tent -2 gm 586 gm 2 cm --- Purchase Torch, x2 -4 cm 585 gm 9 sm 8 cm Spring 513 Seasonal Living Expenses (Squalor) -5 gm 580 gm 9 sm 8 cm A Note on Living Expenses: As per the suggestion provided here, this character's living expenses have been reduced to the Squalor category, and while that may not accurately represent Airell's lifestyle, he, as a Nuit, has no true need for food or shelter. Looking at the price list, I believe that 5 gm a season should cover basic hygiene needs. Purchases of other necessities (e.g. clothing or embalming fluid) will be treated and noted here individually, as will all the other irregular expenses. Thread List Date Thread Name Participants Skills Awarded Lores Awarded 11th of Summer, 513 AV Smoke and Fire Leila --- ---