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Alias: Isilzheha
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Character Age: 28
Race: Elf
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Specialization: Berserker
Occupation: Cultist
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Illex Sulahn

Warrior

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Jan 8 2018, 02:40 PM
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<center><i>13 Drakonis, 9:34</i></center><p>
It was difficult for sleep to cling to a mind abuzz with energy, thoughts swarming like flies that the elf allowed his consciousness to sift through. Despite the erratic ideas his body had been deprived of restfulness, shutting down from the days spent poring over the forge with a determination set into place to finish what he had started. Moments were stolen into unconsciousness, Illex unable to keep his eyes open and finally he allowed himself to succumb to the quiet of sleep. It was anything but silent, however, images flickering within his mind that would be forgotten upon waking. That did not stop him from recalling the feelings he felt during those dreams that had become so settled in a ominous red haze that it was the only color he could see. There is a belief that the Iron Clawed Lady plucked those encounters from him with steely claws, a nourishment to a mind gone mad for Illex <i>knew</i> it was she he dreamed of. He did not lament the loss of the dreams, more than willing to offer them up if they would add kindling to the flames of passion he held so close to his heart for the Forgotten One. Pale gray eyes rolled open, consciousness achieved once again only this time he felt far more energized. With vigor he sat up, hands curled along the edges of the swinging cloth supporting his body to prevent it from swinging over.<p>

The elf twisted, bare feet planted upon the grass as he stood with arms raising above his head to stretch out. Air was expelled from his joints audibly, Illex favoring the relief it gave him before relaxing his body and casting a curious gaze across the camp. Night had fallen, darkness doing little to impede the elf’s scrutiny of his clanmates as they tucked themselves away for much desired rest. He strode over to where the forge sat beneath its constructed roof, drifting closer to one of the walls where the tools hung so that he could touch them briefly before gliding steps set him in front of one of the tables. Without the light of the moon overhead darkness wrapped tightly around him in the corner, beat back only by a faint scarlet glow that seemed to twist and turn even as he stood in place. The garden sang to him in the near distance, far more lively than it had been the previous week though the clan had managed to find a rather bountiful deposit. Bountiful only in the bodies that were provided to feed the mineral, a delicate touch rendered in choosing the most suitable ones. Illex found some of them questionable, though it was not his place to question the Keeper’s decisions and thus he kept his opinions to himself.<p>

Pale eyes blinked, Illex unaware of when he had sunken into his thoughts. Pulling himself away from them focus fell upon the crafted metal that laid upon the table. So perfectly aligned they rested parallel to one another, Illex plucking one up to turn it over in his hand. The other stretched out so he could consider it, wiggling his fingers only to rotate his wrist to peer at the other side. They were barren and flawed in his eyes, and the time had come to finally take another leap of faith for the Iron Clawed Lady. The warrior had been deemed worthy of such a feat, and excitement burst through his mind that drove him to pull the rest of the claws and deposit them into one of the smaller bags hanging from the wall. With that he turned on his heel with vigor, long hair swaying with the energized motion as the forge was placed to his back. Silently he stalked, a familiar path taken that took him further into the trees until reflective eyes fell upon the elf he sought. Dark curls pressed against the hammock’s cloth as the small creature curled within it, a gentle breeze pulling it where it was secured between two trees and Illex took a moment to take in their peaceful visage.<p>

Beautiful red glow sifted through the air, coiled about that frame lacking in physical strength but more than making up for it with magical prowess. Illex had seen it firsthand, and even if they were still learning the practices fascinated the warrior. Knees bent, bringing Illex into a crouch as he tilted his head to watch Tahnarel sleep. He could not say he was loathe to steal away unconsciousness, far more interested in his current plans to let them continue sleeping. Reaching out Illex allowed a hand to touch against their flat stomach, a deep breath taken from the other when they stirred. Mismatched eyes did not open however, Illex watching his hand make a lazy trail up over the ribs that jutted against their darkened skin. Fingers applied the faintest pressure in the dips between the bone, pleasure spiking at the way Tahnarel’s spine bowed into the touch and Illex let out a gentle breath. Up their chest the hand went, following the slope of the throat to caress their face and shake lightly. <strong style=color:#732525>”Wake up, Tahnarel,”</strong> he murmured, lifting the bag to bounce it in the mage’s face. The metal clinked together within it, Illex unable to contain the wide smile that tugged at his lips. <strong style=color:#732525>”I have need of you.”</strong><p>

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Jan 6 2018, 09:56 PM
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<center><i>3 Wintermarch, 9:37</i></center><p>
Through the trees snaking, winding fingers of bitter cold reached, poor attempts made to dig a biting touch against any exposed flesh of the figure that crept low to the ground. Heat wrapped around the one blessed with the lyrium’s presence, the furs set in place across broad shoulders shifting with each calculated step if only to ensure that a body unfeeling of the cold would not perish because of it. Even though the winter did little to sway the desire to remain untangled within clothing the elf knew better than to think pale flesh would not become frostbitten if he trekked out long enough unprotected. The snow brushed away against the sweeping of the cloth that wrapped around his hips, those of which undulated as knees drew up only to extend and bring the creeping creature across the untouched terrain. It helped to cover his own tracks, pale gray eyes fixated on the ones set out before him that belonged to one who clearly did not hold such fears of being found. A simple wandering had turned to a curious hunt for the being that had left them in their wake, Illex tucking his body into the underbrush as much as was possible. Only three weapons had been brought with him, for he had not anticipated seeing someone venturing so close to the forests, though now all that remained were two when one of the spears had been broken and discarded earlier in the day.<p>

Patterns of trees began to break up into thin clusters, the expanse beyond the Tirashan able to be seen through the gaps but that is not what held Illex’s focus. A similar hunt had proved rather fruitful in the morning, the elf becoming sidetracked from returning to the clan when the unknown footprints drew his gaze. Beside one he crouched now, tilting his head as he considered it. The shape was small, clearly from the boots his newfound quarry wore, though the only other elves who would match the impression had been back at camp. Perhaps they were uncovered intentionally, or whoever walked where they shouldn't did not have enough intelligence to be wary of their surroundings. That thought brought about a small smile, cold metal brushing against his chin as lips twitched and Illex straightened out to continue his path. Several paces down the footprints diverged from the straight direction and gave the tall elf pause. There was hesitation in the way the telltale marks rested in the snow, indecision that Illex decided to exploit. He knew the area well, and he could only assume it was a shem that trailed along the forests for an elf would have been able to pick up on the way the ground began to dip and give way to a crevasse carved into it. Small in length yet wide, but it would put a hindrance in anyone's travels lest they backtrack and go around.<p>

Illex stalked to a larger tree at his flank, palms pressed against the rough bark only to move upwards and grab one of the lower branches. Metal claws gouged into the wood, adding leverage that was unneeded for strength along was enough to hoist himself up until he could perch on one of the higher branches. The branches were barren, offering little in the way of obstruction save for the way they clustered together so he inched along the side of the trunk and settled back carefully to wait for his prey to come to him. Dark tresses fell over his shoulders as his chin dipped down and eyes remained watchful even as he prepared himself. The longer weapon was removed from his back, Illex balancing it precariously on the branch beside him so that he could free his arm for his remaining spear. Fingers twisted around it in growing anticipation, a confidence placed in the one he now awaited with hope that it was not misplaced.<p>

Indeed it wasn't, the wait cut short by the sound of snow crunching beneath the weight of the nearing shem. Through the skeletal branches Illex took in the sight of the man as he came into view, gaze narrowing ever so slightly at his small stature. The snow pushed out where he walked, leaving a fresh trail behind him and with his approach came an odd sensation. Across the distance it stretched, a caressing touch that settled low in his gut and the elf leaned against the trunk of the tree, free hand braced against it and body pushing forward until the brush of the horns atop his head stopped him. Confusion found him next, for the creature that walked leisurely around the open space looked every bit a vile human yet Illex caught himself <i>admiring</i> him. Slowly it crossed his mind until it became a fixation, the elf almost feeling giddy with it even with angled features turning into a scowl. Lips tugged down with a frown, scrutinizing stare sizing up the dark-haired being. More of it fell along his jawline, wrapping around his lips and Illex had to stop himself from calling out. He didn't want to give away his position, not yet, despite the way a voice inside of him protested the silence.<p>

The shem stiffened, ever so slightly, head turning away as if hearing something in the distance but Illex heard nothing. Ears twitched as if he might be able to, wondering if he had missed something. Maybe this human could smell the blood that had dried across the warrior’s body, or maybe it was the small bag tied to the belt across his hips saturated with the liquid from the spoils of his hunt that sat inside of it. Humans did not have a good sense of smell, Illex knew, so it couldn't be that. Nostrils flared and he lifted the spear before the shem began to turn, positioning it carefully and waiting for his torso to turn. Much to his glee he did, taking several steps until he was nearly beneath him. Muscles flexed, and the elf threw the spear with as much strength as he could gather from his current position. He delighted in the noise it made, face instantly brightening and pale gaze meeting the human’s when he looked up. Only he couldn't be a human, not with the way his face remained passive. Illex didn't see much of it, already having begun to make his way down the tree and ducking beneath a branch with his glaive in hand. If anything the human looked annoyed, the smell of blood filtering towards the warrior as he dropped down.<p>

It only filled him with more curiosity, brows pulling together as the smaller body collapsed beneath his weight with ease. His frame jarred with the impact and it drove the spear in further, Illex tilting his head once the human was prone and trapped. His hair fell forward, the braided leather bands of his headdress following suit as he peered at the supposed shem. His weapon was planted against the ground with a fist clenched around it to brace himself, the other finding the rough face to touch his cheek. He didn't like the way hair prickled against him, Illex forcing the man's head back when he attempted to rise as hips drove down against him to keep him in place. The elf’s chest touched the blunt end of the spear, sinking down even as it ground in harshly to the breastplate. His furs had fallen off with the movement that set him upon the man, and lips twitched as claws curled to press none to gently into the human's face so he could turn his head. Their chests almost touched now, spear digging into the ground beneath the body that writhed. It stirred a sense of lust, one Illex was unsure of for he had never viewed human’s in such a way. It was frustrating. <strong style=color:#732525>”What are you supposed to be?”</strong> he murmured, an inquiry almost meant for himself but he looked expectantly upon the other. Blood welled from the pressure of the metal claws, skin puckered around them but Illex did not relent. <p>



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Jan 5 2018, 12:54 AM
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<center><i>21 Solace, 9:40</i></center><p>
The garden was dwindling, a greed placed within each action to pluck the precious stone contained within its cage of ice and death that took faster than it could grow. Insistence had been ushered to the Keeper to still those forever unsatisfied hands as those they belonged to clamored for more. That is how it always was, desperate pleas for <i>more</i> even if it did not display itself outwardly and Illex was determined to let the growths flourish where others did not. The warrior was content to sit along the edges, adorned ears twitching gently at the low hum as the song wrapped its caressing fingers around his mind. It washes everything away, not a trouble to be felt should there ever be any to plague an already plagued mind. The comforting call was quiet, however, dulled beneath the weight of absence and it is this reason that Illex found himself trailing away from the Tirashan. Reassuring weight fell across his back, the harness holding in place the tools of which he would use sparingly for the task at hand for he intended to make quick work of the information he had been provided.<p>

It was easy for his clan to keep their ears to the ground, plucking at their ties to the world outside of the forests where they resided in order to keep a relatively steady supply of the corrupted lyrium. It was no surprise that the garden would wane, as it often would be mined for whatever the clan desired, but this time was different. Some had taken just a little too much, and Illex would leave it to the Keeper to find those that indulged beyond what was necessary. Punishment would be enacted, and it was a small disappointment that the warrior would not be present to have a hand in dealing such reprimand. Sights were set on the trails laid out before him, carefully taken to avoid leaving one of his own as he weaved through the trees and crossed over the plains towards the expansive highway where many utilized it under the false safety it supposedly supplied the outsiders. Long, black hair had been braided back, brushing gently across the skin of his back not covered by the weapons he ached to use as he moved swiftly. A mount would have been simpler, cut the time in half, but he did not care to have another living creature to look after. Determination was set, and several days passed before he arrived at the edge of the crumbling stone.<p>

Archways towered high, the walls difficult to scale and so Illex kept parallel to it, pointed ears shifting as his head turned to hear any telltale sounds of what he was looking for. Red lyrium had been noted as passing by the highway, though the elf did not mistake the majority of the Templars to be fool enough to use the paved roads so openly. Several steps were taken before a shout was heard behind him, up upon the highway and Illex lowered his body to duck behind a grouping of fallen debris. Hooves clattered against the stone, Illex relying on hearing more than sight as the riders began to pass. Wheels churned, snorts heard from the beasts of burden as something large was carted along. When it sounded directly behind him the elf twisted to peer over the crumbled stone only to see a dark caravan wobbling almost precariously before the driver corrected the horses. Pale gaze shifted down the way to where another could be seen as a blotch of color slowly, ever so slowly, growing in size with its approach. Lips twitched, muscles flexing as a palm slid over the rough edge of the broken masonry. The points of metal claws scraped delicately against the surface with the motion, the elf pining for an opening to set against what appeared to be humans.<p>

No signs could be seen of any infection, nor could he hear the beautiful hum from within the caravan. Just as he was about to retract his attentions a foreign language was spat into the shuffling noises of the travelers, an arrow flying overhead and planting itself within one of the caravan guards’ skull. Illex’s stomach flipped, eyes widening and a grin splitting his lips as his head whipped around to find the source of the well-aimed arrow. The archer perched on a rock, a glance sent in the direction of the elf when he moved just enough to see over the edge and even from this distance the warrior could see the confusion. Another joined him, oddly shaped clothing wrapped about their figures and it took a moment for recognition to spark. <i>Venatori.</i> Excitement flooded through him then, and he pushed away from the rock as the bow was leveled towards him. The wood splintered upon impact, arrowhead clattering to the dirt and Illex reached behind him to free one of the stunted spears. An arm drew back, and returning to his previous spot he threw it with precision, delighting in the startled cry as the human was stricken in the chest. Such a satisfying <i>thud</i>, the elf already moving to retrieve the spear when another charged towards him with a sword swinging in a vigorous swipe.<p>

Freeing the spear Illex dipped low, one leg extended to brace himself and the sword missed his head by mere inches. He could feel the breeze in its wake, hear the singing of the metal as it hissed through the air, and with a forceful thrust upwards the spear was embedded into his skull beneath his chin. Rising with the strike it drove the Venatori back, blood falling freely in a pleasurable wave of warmth down his hands and arms. A shudder pulled down his spine, sharpened teeth flashing as he yanked the weapon free in a spray of blood. A low groan erupted from his throat, eyes alight and his free hand lifted to glide across his chest and smear the liquid across his skin. He could feel the upraised flesh of his scars, eyes fluttering but he pulled himself away when commotion from the road drew his focus. The guards were clashing with other Venatori, not very many of them, and Illex replaced the spear in favor of drawing his glaive.<p>

They did not expect him from either side, most of the shems doing the work for him as blood splattered the ground and pained shouts gurgled into silence. Bodies fell, curses yelled in that atrocious language and Illex pulled himself closer. The curved blade rested against the stone, scraping with his approach and turning the head of one of the caravan guards dressed in black armor. Silver flashed, and the other warrior charged towards him yet hesitation slowed his steps when he fully took in this unknown adversary. <strong style=color:#732525>”Please, come closer,”</strong> he murmured longingly, near breathless with the anticipation of what was to come. He did not know what the human said, nor did he care. All he cared about was the way his feet moved, the warrior clearly trained but Illex could not find a single shred of fear within himself. Indeed the shem moved closer, the elven warrior knocking the blade aside and allowing his own to slip through his grip until he grabbed it again, closer to the blade, and pushed it forward. Right into the softened core it dug, pushing past whatever useless armor he wore until it caught on bone. Illex yanked the man towards him, the other side of the blade hooked and catching further. The guard dropped his sword and the elf lifted a hand to his face, blood coughed from stained lips as the wounded balked.<p>

Claw tips grazed softly, Illex tilting his head and taking in the way the human’s face contorted in agony before a crushing grip was placed against his face. Fingers curled, and a scream tore from the afflicted one’s throat as the metal dug into flesh and bone, puncturing an eye only to press further until the prey ceased its struggles and fell limp. With little consideration muscles coiled, Illex pulling the glaive free and gaze honing in on the remaining two that dueled on the other side of the caravan. He could hear their labored breaths and struggling, shifting to the corner of the structure as the horses began to panic. For a moment he simply watched, humored by the view of the Venatori and what he could only assume to be a Tevene pushing against one another in a poor attempt to gain leverage. <strong style=color:#732525>”So wrong, so <i>graceless,</i>”</strong> he chided, chin tipping as the Venatori gained the upper hand and with a guttural cry the guard fell beneath his blade. The stench of blood was pungent, a split tongue prodding at some that had dotted against his cheek.<p>

Nostrils flared, and the Venatori lunged towards him. Space was limited, and so the elf used the long handle of the glaive to swipe the bloodstained sword and trap it against the side of the caravan. It lurched with the impact, clawed hand lifting quickly before the man could recover and counter the shove set against his throat. This one did not scream, voice seized with his very hand and Illex moved closer as the pinned hand began to tremble and the sword fell away with a resounding clang of metal against stone. Illex stood taller than the shem, crafted claws still dug into his throat even as his wrist rotated and fingers began to spread. Taking in a deep breath the elf removed his hand, satisfaction wrapping around him as he slid none too carefully until he leaned against the wheel clutching at the gaping wound in his throat. Air was expelled slowly, Illex planting his glaive against the stone after pulling it away. A side compartment began to fall open, and with a jolt of trepidation the elf scrambled to keep it closed lest the contents inside spill out.<p>

How close it had come to doing just that until Illex secured the latch and placed a hand over his chest as if to still a rapidly beating heart. Gray eyes fell to the motionless Venatori, a small laugh given. <strong style=color:#732525>”This is not mine, not yet,”</strong> he explained to nobody in particular, a shake of his head accompanying the steps that brought the elf closer to the deceased. <strong style=color:#732525>”It would not do to break it.”</strong> Careful consideration was placed upon the lifeless corpse, Illex kneeling down beside him as his gaze narrowed. The braid fell across his shoulder as he turned his head to eye the wound that trickled with excess blood even if the heart had ceased its beating. Bloodied claws pulled at the mangled flesh, a grimace taking hold of the elf’s angled features. <strong style=color:#732525>”That does not look good,”</strong> he commented gravely, yet despite the concerned tone no regret could be found within his mind. Eyebrows lifted and Illex shrugged, standing with a quickened motion so that he could reach and find purchase against the metal holding the wood together and hoist himself up. A foot planted against the Venatori, giving him a boost to his desired perch. He heard the wet <i>plop</i> as the man fell over but Illex paid it no mind.<p>

Sitting upon the top of the wagon as the horses shuffled nervously behind him the elf glanced down the highway to where the other vessel began to make itself know. A rider on a large, ebony horse surged forward ahead of the other, donned in black robes and with his approach Illex let out a disgruntled sigh. Not a single trace of red lyrium upon his body, the carnage around him all but forgotten as he laid his weapon down beside him and leaned forward against his crossed knees. <strong style=color:#732525>”You are not who I was hoping to see, you know,”</strong> he called down irritably as the horse and rider stopped a few feet away, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. Just another <i>human</i>, by the looks of it. A small hope had been placed in seeing the Venatori, for the elf had assumed that the Templars would have come in the place of the shems that seemed to surround him. How revolting.<p>


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Jan 4 2018, 05:00 AM
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<h1>Illex Sulahn</h1>
<h2>28 years old . Cultist . Warrior . Daisuke Ueda</h2>
<h3>Isilzheha . 27 . EST . PM or Discord</h3>
<div class="maincontent scroll">

<h3>Info</h3>

<ol>Other Characters</ol>
Freebie

<ol>Birthdate</ol>
14 Justinian, 9:13

<p>

<ol>Race & Nationality</ol>
Elf - Orlesian

<p>

<ol>Alignment</ol>
Chaotic Evil

<p>

<ol>Family Members</ol>
Unknown - <i>Deceased</i><p>

<p>

<ol>Weapons</ol>
Two-Handed (Glaives/Boar Spears) - <i>Expert</i><p>
Daggers - <i>Advanced</i><p>
Hand-To-Hand - <i>Expert</i><p>

<p>

<ol>Abilities</ol>
Warmonger - <i>The warmonger is a confident adversary, well-versed in taunting foes, cutting through them, and sending them to the dirt in a bloody heap.</i><p>

Vanguard - <i>These stalwart warriors protect their allies by making themselves the biggest target on the battlefield. When enemies take the bait, Vanguards pick them apart with brutal precision.</i><p>

<ol>Specialization</ol>
Berserker - <i>They sacrifice finesse for a dark rage that increases their strength and resilience. They are renowned as terrifying adversaries.</i><p>

<h3>Freestyle</h3>

<i><b>The Looks:</b></i> Illex is something of an anomaly among his people, standing at 6’0” tall and more often than not towering over his kin. Being a warrior he has cultivated his body as much as he can for one of his ilk, lean muscle honed over his frame in an athletic display of strength that is often laid bare at least partially to any who may be looking. His skin holds a pale pallor, a smooth complexion broken up only by a dusting of freckles along his high cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Further freckling can be seen along his shoulders and back, whatever of it that remains to be seen amidst the scars along the front of his torso and arms lying faintly upon his skin. His facial structure is angled and smooth, curving lines giving him a rather strong and yet beautiful appearance. Long, black tresses fall down his body in a layered fashion, all the way down to his lower back and the only part he has cut is along the left side of his head. It is cut close to the scalp there, nowhere else, and sometimes he will braid portions. Eyes of a pale gray rest within his skull, appearing nearly white yet tinged with crimson from an ethereal glow that seems to pulse from them and the thin, red veins that can be seen creeping from the corners to fade into his skin.<p>

Standing out in stark contrast is the vallaslin he has tattooed, a deep shade of red that seems to shimmer and glow much like red lyrium itself. The ink inlaid has the mineral mixed into it, sunken into his flesh yet goes no further much like others who had succumbed to the infection. It emits a dark, ominous song to those around him, although it is faint and not as maddening as when it comes from concentrated red lyrium. The patterns are slashes down his forehead and left cheek, crawling over his jawline and down his throat. They are broken up by the line down his chin and throat as well as the markings along the center of his nose, less aggressive-looking compared to the other markings. Should he smile one would be able to see blunt teeth, although his canines are sharp and pointed as is normal for elves. To further the rather eerie, menacing look he presents Illex has filed more of his teeth into sharpened points where they otherwise would have been blunt. There is no shortage of alterations to his body, and he displays them proudly.<p>

One of the more obvious ones would be upon his hands, fingers adorned with metal claws that stretch down his digits yet remain flexible and do not render his movements limited in that regard. They cannot be removed, having been planted against the bone and flesh after removal of the tips down to the first joint. The second would be the patterns of scarring across his chest, arms, and stomach. Plain evidence of scarification can be marked with but a simple glance at his body, self-inflicted along his upper body wherever the elf could reach himself without assistance from others. It is a continuation of his vallaslin, abstract lines and curving scars decorating his flesh. More simplistic modifications can be seen upon long, pointed ears where jewelry adorns it of varying sizes as well as a chain attached to two of them on his right ear along the longer part of it. His bottom lip is not spared either, twin spikes about a centimeter long pierced through the flesh. His tongue is another story entirely, split down the middle a fraction of the way and giving not one but two tips to the muscle.<p>

Fashion is primitive for Illex, although he does not tend to wear much of anything save various styles of skirts. The warmth the red lyrium gives off tends to beat back any chills he might feel, and so he does not cover his torso if he can help it. Often he will wear different necklaces and bracelets, sparing no flair he can give to his body if only to attract attention and comfort himself. The most disturbing, perhaps, would be the headdress he is keen on wearing. Overall it is black cloth and leather that pieces it together, the leather braided where it falls around his face when he wears it. Curled, hollowed out horns are fixated on top and held in place by golden metal. But one of many trophies he has gathered from those he has slain and decided were deserving of display. Black and red feathers are sewn into the base of it, a scarlet gem resting between his eyes the only color aside from the metal. A lace pattern rests between the stolen horns, various teeth and claws woven into it. If he is to wear armor it falls across his body to cover vital points yet remains somewhat primitive in nature as Illex does not want to impede his movement. He is a warrior, and one to be feared, but he moves with deadly grace that seems unbecoming of an elf of his size and stature. His gait is calm, smooth, like the serpent slithering closer to its prey before striking with ferocious precision.<p>

<b><i>The Depth:</i></b> Perhaps if red lyrium had not been placed within his life Illex would have grown to be a kind-hearted and well-rounded individual. This was simply not the case, and having prolonged exposure to red lyrium from a young age it has corrupted his mind. After joining the Sulahn clan and taking their name his volatile nature became known throughout. He is grown in body and intellect, but socially he has been stunted. In interactions he has no sense of personal boundaries, doing as he pleases on a whim and not caring for the repercussions. In fact, if they are negative he reacts in kind. Illex does not do well being rejected or pushed away, even if no harm is intended, and is quick to show his anger in such situations. In battle is consumes him in ways that leave others speechless, falling into it with a practiced ease as he gives in to the rise of irritation and sets it free on any who brings it out in him. He is a curious man, almost childlike in most aspects when others speak to him. It is all twisted and jumbled within his addled mind, social cues lost upon him and a bluntness to him that many tend to veer away from.<p>

He speaks his mind, often to the dismay of others, and will not hold his opinions back even where they are not called for. He thrives on violence, even if it is quick and clean, and grows energized because of it. Due to the red lyrium exposure he has possessive and obsessive tendencies towards a great deal of things that manages to hold his interests. Where other people are concerned if he grows attached to them, and he does so quite easily, he becomes a jealous sort and possessive over them. There is an openness to him others might find appealing, although it is not in a way that they will hold such thoughts for long once they see how he acts. He is religious, very much so, and does not tolerate any other beliefs that are spoken around him if they are not his own. Respect is held for the red lyrium he holds so dear to his heart, a delicate touch used when acquiring it for his clan and he resents those that resist it or demolish it. It is a piece of him and the religion he practices openly, and for any to go against it that is seen as an affront Illex has no issue in reprimanding.<p>

A man who is determined to get his way no matter the cost he cares little for the thoughts of others unless they are turned upon him in a positive light. Given the care he places in modifying and honing his body he has no issue with flaunting it to others whenever he sees fit to do so. He is not a modest elf, and will fall easily to compliments given to him. He does not handle rejection well in any aspect, petulant in his vocalization of such things and does not like to be spurned away from anything or anyone he sets his sights on. Given the nature of his mind he can be deemed insane, often turning to talking to himself when others are not around yet no nervous ticks can be seen in the calm way he carries himself. He harbors a deep fascination in blood, feeling it is better when it rests outside of the body and will be the first to help another in freeing the liquid from their veins so he can watch it pour. In the same breath he will collect trophies from creatures he deems worthy of having a piece of themselves displayed on his person. These creatures often come in the form of humans, no love held for the lesser race and any of the others as Illex views elves as superior in every way. This does not stop him from turning against his own kind, however. He does as he pleases, and damns any who attempt to keep him from doing so.<p>

<i><b>The Past:</i></b> When you are a child the world seems so small, those who gave you life doing everything in their power to shield you from the horrors it has to offer. They attempt to coddle you, to nurture you and make you stronger to brave the dangers laid out before you. Yet so easily can it all be changed only to crumble around you. Such an occurrence happened to the young elven boy born within a Dalish clan on the edges of the Blasted Hills. Unlike most Dalish clans who wandered freely or would often settle in certain areas only to uproot and travel elsewhere this one had constructed a small village where they dwelled. They lived off of the land, as everyone else, making full use of the mineral rich terrain to grow their crops and build their trade. It wasn’t just their seeds that took root, however, and within the hills not far from a dwarven thaig red lyrium had taken up residence. The village kept it at bay, leading their lives blissfully and telling their young the dangers of the infectious material. A younger scout had been roaming the hills when he found the outcrop, an elf of weak mind who could not resist the alluring call and collected a small portion of it and took it back to the village in secret. He wanted to pore over it, hoard it to himself and listen to the haunting song within the comfort of his own home. It wouldn’t be long before it started to affect him, twisting his mind and corrupting it. The elf became greedy, lashing out at others and grew almost manic in his obsession.<p>

Illex was six years old at the time when the scout attacked another, a curiosity taking him over as over the same course of time the village became restless. Many stirred from the presence of the red lyrium yet none had been so thoroughly taken over, the mystery becoming solved when the lyrium was found and subsequently purged. Some of it was missed, an oversight of a subconscious no doubt nagging to not look beneath the earth where the small hut stood. Everyone thought the matter was settled, the clan relaxing with the removal of both scout and red lyrium but Illex could still hear the song. It called to him so gently, a coaxing that urged him to find where the hut once stood in the dark of night. He dug for hours until he finally found it, becoming entranced by the mineral though he would not be so foolish as the scout had been. A young child, yet observant in the way it had overtaken the other elf and he did not want to become so greedy that it harmed him in such a way. No, Illex came to delicately remove it and bring it back to his home. His parents were none the wiser, and he kept it locked away so that none would steal it away from him as readily as they had done to the no doubt killed scout.<p>

It was but a small shard, so miniscule in its effects on the young elf that gradually spread throughout his mind as he grew. He became irritable, restless, and craved the song so much that he would often lock himself away simply to hear it. It spoke to him in ways no other had, although it would weave a web of manipulative strings with which it plucked to get the elf moving in whichever direction it so desired. During the middle of winter, when all was dead and quiet, a darkness settled within Illex’s mind. It was the sort of darkness that blocked all around him save for a single shred of light that illuminated a singular focus on taking the lives of those who dwelled within the village. It was clarity, it was <i>purity</i>, and he knew he had to do it. Some unknown entity drove him forward with the act, starting with his parents as they slumbered so peacefully in their beds. Their names became lost on him, as it did with all of those around him, and it was as if he was being reborn. Being so young he did not understand it fully, but with childlike innocence he accepted it without question. Into the bitter cold he stole, robbing his clanmates of more than their jewelry or money could ever offer him. It was there, in the middle of the village, that an older elven woman came to him as he knelt in the bloodstained snow. More of it was on him than upon the ground, and Illex was drawn to the way the warmth melted against the white only to congeal and halt its progression.<p>

He did not know the woman, but that intoxicating song emanated from her and when he looked upon her face even in the darkness he could see the scarlet shimmer. She welcomed him against her side, guiding him away from the village and back to a different clan within the Tirashan forests with a loving touch that calmed him more than his own mother’s ever could. She came to be known as the Keeper of the clan, stirred by the commotion Illex had caused and upon investigation found the young boy. Taking him back to the clan he was in awe, immersing himself almost immediately at the revelation of the red lyrium they held so close to their hearts. The Keeper had a baby, and left Illex to his own devices once he had been settled and she needed to return to the tiny offspring. Illex took to the others with ease, clinging to them within his mind and he felt more at home within the Tirashan than he ever did within the village. The tales and teachings of the gods was imparted upon him, Illex falling into the stories though it was one in particular that grabbed his interest the most. A goddess by the name of Aenwyn, a slave of the evanuris who was tortured relentlessly until she escaped. Illex came to believe that she had been exposed to the red lyrium just as he had, placed within a world that did not feel <i>right</i> until it all became so clear.<p>

It was her that he chose to follow, the Iron Clawed Lady the subject of his worship as he acclimated. He had been training with his father when he was old enough to wield a blade, studies that were not forgotten nor turned aside as the warriors of the clan began to tutor him. He tended to his studies daily, freed in ways unfelt before, and relished in the sight of the garden the clan kept to mine their red lyrium. Much in the same ways his own clan contained the spreading the Sulahn clan kept it from taking over entirely. Only instead of keeping it away they cherished it near, using it in diluted quantities to give the clan members their vallaslin once they completed their trials into adulthood. As the Keeper’s young grew older Illex found himself gravitating towards them, the two often spending time together throughout the day and did as they pleased. Illex was older, but that did not stop him from attaching himself to the other elf. Illex grew protective of them, even if it was unwanted, to the point of near obsession as the elf was prone to sink into such thinking patterns. He grew socially only within the clan, and learned all that he knows now from them but there is much that still gathers his interests and fascination.<p>

Tahnarel, the child was called, turned to blood magic at a young age and Illex encouraged the promising mage if only for the opportunities it presented in indulging in the sweet nectar the body held in its veins. Such machinations were allowed to flourish, Illex growing into his gangly limbs and awkward body as he honed it into a pure work of art. In that it became an obsession of its own, Illex turning to creating his own weapons and learning how to forge in order to do so. When he turned eighteen years of age he completed his trials, eagerly awaiting the receival of his vallaslin. In Aenwyn’s name he accepted the red lyrium into his skin, markings tattooed with the ink diluted with the organic material that infused with his psyche as well as his body. With his training newfound strength came to him, the song quieter but ever present within his mind, and a resistance was built against the infectious lyrium over time. It was at this point Illex deemed himself worthy of modifying his body, adorning his flesh with all manners of piercings upon his ears and even his lips in the form of small, metal spikes. His body was a canvas, and he aimed to paint it in ways most would deem grotesque. With care he extended the vallaslin, although not with the ink created and instead would use a sharp blade. Down his chest and torso he would make careful incisions, pain never numbed for he wished to feel it all, and layers of skin were peeled back in intricate fashion.<p>

It was done in increments, Tahnarel often helping him staunch the blood loss and aiding in the recovery between sessions until he had achieved the desired pattern. No others were allowed to do it, for Illex wanted it solely to be his own creation. The months passed in much the same way, although Illex set out on a self-made quest to find a Qunari so that he could test his mettle as a warrior. They were described to be fearsome and unrelenting in their strength, and Illex set against one of them after traveling. A beautiful beast, by the elf’s standards, and he took great joy in killing the Qunari. A fascination was found within the horns he had upon his head, Illex carefully removing them to take them back to the clan. There he hollowed the horns, using his craft to begin piecing together a headdress that would become another adornment to add to a rapidly growing collection. Feathers of slain beasts were added to the leather and cloth, the lace woven between the horns quickly becoming a placeholder for various trophies collected from those he felled over the years in the form of tooth and claw. When he turned twenty Illex decided to grow closer to his goddess, spending weeks crafting and perfecting metal claws with inspiration taken from Aenwyn. Growing excited he pulled Tahnarel into his plan, the other elf more than happy to assist with the removal of portions of his fingers so the claws could be attached.<p>

The first hand Illex did himself, the pain trivial compared to the happiness he would feel having completed the act. The second hand was done by Tahnarel, carefully so and the claws were attached. Fused to the flesh and bone to prevent removal Illex paid homage to the Iron Clawed Lady, a sense of peace coming over him. Tahnarel delighted in the whole ordeal, and Illex was glad to have provided them with just as much pleasure though it would never amount to the pleasure he felt at his newest additions. Tahnarel became one that would help further when Illex decided to have his tongue split, careful consideration placed in his work upon himself. His body was becoming the work of art he strived for, and he only continued to further it as the time passed. Another came to the clan then, barefaced and just as in awe as Illex had been when he first arrived. The wool was pulled from his eyes just as it had been done with Illex, and the newcomer introduced himself as Cetus. Hailing from a Dalish clan he turned away he was welcomed with open arms, turning to their customs and beliefs without hesitation. It is here that Illex resides within the Tirashan, the Breach and the chaos that came with it all but fateful events that were looked on with indifference. He travels outside of the clan as much as he will allow himself, aiding his clanmates in the gathering of red lyrium as well as turning to his own devices.<p>

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