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Character Age: 24
Race: Elf
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Specialization: Blood Mage
Occupation: Runaway Slave
Joined: 3-August 17
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Last Seen: Apr 19 2018, 02:05 PM
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Rak`han Eroan


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Dec 4 2017, 09:57 PM
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<center><i>27 August, 9:41</i></center><p>
Time was a thing lost upon a being forced from the walls of Minrathous by the hand of a man who should have played no part in such manipulation of fate. Valasan, the Dalish who came to pry far too deeply into a life that was not of his concern, was the cause of this discomfort which wrapped about the venture now being took South. So much more was attempted to be placed upon the tattooed elf’s crown as bitterness had lodged itself within Rak`han’s chest though it twisted like sickness within his stomach. Settling as it licked upon a calloused tongue but was battled with the reasoning of forgiveness and that it was not truly by the fault of one alone.
Weeks slowly tempered the elf and each lyric slowly came to rest far less violently upon each address though he still struggled to find true pardon upon broken vocals. Valasan was attempting to help. From the very beginning it was all the Dalish wished to do despite the denial that crossed the slave’s tongue. Though it was hard found acceptance even as the other had proven resourceful, helpful, on multiple occasions when it came to one who had been entrapped. Yet, Rak`han still struggled to find it in himself to let it go as conflict rose in each unapologetic tone that washed itself over trembling lips. Everything that had been known was now gone. A life lived for so many years stripped away in an instant. And for what? The freedom under the title of a runaway.
It was all so overwhelming and the freckled mage felt lost in this environment which should have been called home to a forgotten clan. So use had the boy grown to the customs of Minrathous that the world outside it was a far more terrible place. The woodlands was nothing but a foreign memory that clung to the very recesses of a broken mind. Anything that could have been was a life forgotten but all the same desperately clung to bring vague recollection within those fiery eyes as they twisted against the terrain. A light reflection found within them from the shade provided by the overhang the slave had settled himself beneath for some time away from the forced companion found in the Dalish, for he was the only thing that remained which offered some odd form of comfort and direction.
Everything offered a sense of conflict, even a title once set against the elf’s crown. This freedom, it was merely a ruse, a trick of the mind a demon wished to offer. Something went untold and it put the boy on edge for it seemed out of line to such a volatile creature as Andromalius. Pride had his fun and then, with nothing more than the gentle word of another, was the boy let go. Chased from the city as if there was no more use to be wrought from a disobedient dog. Far too many lashes placed upon the back of a being who bent so easily beneath the pressure. It didn’t fit into the pattern, this wasn’t supposed to be how things happened. And so desperately did a creature of habit reach for the familiar for moving forward was far more difficult than falling in line.
For in the exchange of the hand who held tight to a leash was as simple as learning their ticks. Figuring what pleased them and what did not. Learning to bend to their rules and fall victim to their desires. But here, out in the wilderness with the Dalish, there was not even a remote sense of guidance. There was only the babble of the brook that cut through the grove decorated in a scattering of dark stones arching from the earth. Dancing upon the shores of the rocky enclave which fed from the grasses before dipping into the gentle waters awaiting it. Nothing more than the hum of the wilds where there was once a being tugging upon the now broken tether that once strung a struggling thing up like a noose.
All of it coupled into a feeling of distress and it put Rak`han at a loss. It spiraled a mood which had already faltered into a deeper pit when it should have risen for at long last freedom had been granted. Yet now that what had once been longed for had been given it felt like it was nothing more than a curse. Where had the enthusiasm gone? That was a question asked for many years though it had tapered out from childhood till it became nothing. All it could be was a reflection of worth for a slave was nothing more than an object. That thought was what swallowed and suppressed a feeling of worth and even now still refused to come to light. So easily was it pushed back and repressed, clung to when it should have been let go – this was too difficult.
It left a beast of burden, a runaway slave of Tevinter, to wallow in silent conflict. What remained of mismatched ears tilted back as a gilded palm rose to press against sunken sockets. Pressing a little too firmly against those angled features as if it would help to dismiss what lingered upon each pulse, a thrum of pain that coursed through a body even at rest. Troubling, or so it should have been thought, but something within screamed everything had been deserved though another’s words claimed differently. It was what put distance between them and set a being adorn in dark fabrics stuffed by travel and dirt to dwell in the afternoon glow. The sun offered a warmth that was incomparable to the Northern temperatures of Minrathous. It was colder here but offered no discomfort to one whose mind was so enraptured with each weight set upon it.

Nov 17 2017, 09:16 PM
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</object><p><i>TBD, 3 AM</i><p></center><div style="width: 462px; padding: 0px 10px 10px 10px;">
At first awareness was filled only with the echo of Pride’s promise within those mismatched ears. A hum, a buzz that clouded the mind and stole away the fractured reality as a reminder of the Fade dared to hover above him. Claws sinking into a chest that dared to rise with shallow breathes, struggling against the weight as if a body could only latch onto the way bones had grated against one another within that crushing hold. Now it had passed itself into reality as the ghosting of a violent dream now slammed down in illusionary horrors. Though a stiffened frame did only as the slave was taught, even in broken senses, to deal with it. And though panic was so often a sensation crawling over the male’s skin this was different, it drove reaction as one horror lifted another was to begin in a not so silent refrain to the pain that lashed against the male’s hide.
Panic had seized every fiber of the waking being as pain washed against a physical form as a phantom reminder of the presence which had sought him out in the Fade. Rak`han could feel his pulse trace in pained lines at the pressure that built up in his skull as nerves sparked to life about a previously severed limb. For a moment muscles refused to work, unwilling to flex even as hysteria came to possesses the now risen elf. Torment laced itself within the echoes of breath that expelled themselves in fevered terror as a scream ruptured the silence. It was not all in fear that drove those vocals to rise as pain touched upon the sentiment and coiled about a bruised throat.
Forced from the realm of dreams the mage was not given a gentle stir into reality as a body sat up quickly, discarding the limb that had found itself around him. And for a fraction of time every sensation which had once been present within the Fade ignited against a trembling frame. Nausea embraced the deepest root of the male’s stomach though even as it lurched in sickness there was nothing there to rise against the dry heave. It stopped there, a shaken breath suppressing that feeling as a palm came to press harshly against those angled features. The other delayed as feeling slowly crept back in as the surreal binding released its ethereal hold upon corporeal being.
Wide eyes stilled as they stared blankly across the room as if expecting something to step out of the walls and enter into the closed off spaces. That phantom reflection of the bare faced elf’s eyes glinted in the darkness just as Valasan’s did when his own sights were forced to look through the shadows after being awoken. Though the slave was briefly lost to his own terrors as when that gaze finally pulled from the distance knees reflexively pulled up against his chest as trembling limbs wrapped about them. A heavy crown lowered till those freckled features pressed against the points of his knees.
Breath shook in hollow echoes from the boy’s lungs as fear refused to subside. Rather it amplified as a mind raced and those growled lyrics rolled against his memory as a haunting reminder. <i>“Do not fret, Rak`han, we can continue this conversation when you wake up.”</i> It was not a thing the slave wished to continue in either the Fade or the overwhelming reality that attempted to swallow him whole now. A promise upon a demon’s tongue only drove the knife that pressed taut to the elf’s throat to drive itself deeper. Horror was consuming as it struck against emotional chords till it lured tears to fall from stricken eyes.
A crown refused to rise and there was no offering given to the other body who hovered nearby. For after that scream had broken the silence of slumber, destroyed the peace that had briefly found each of the elven mages, the slave retreated upon himself. Refusal to acknowledge there was anyone but himself in the moment for if Andromalius sought him out, found him here, that would soon play into reality. The Dalish would be taken first and the being of Pride would be left with his plaything, a lamb lain on the altar to be left at the mercy of hungry fangs.

Nov 16 2017, 01:05 AM
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<center><i>3 Cloudreach, 9:41</i></center><p>
Six days. Was that truly all that had been since time had ceased to be? Since the moment were reality had become fragmented and claws came to find themselves pulling against the spine of the defeated? With how the seconds ticked by the beginnings of torment had seemed far grander than that. Violate palms were so easily found pressed against the slave’s throat in a growing desire to constrict chosen prey. Far too easily did a beast come to suppress a creature once allowed to shift freely without much worry cast towards the thoughts of a master. So easily, so quickly, it had all been taken away. All it took to bring peace to an abrupt ending as the forceful hand of a false presence of a being who should not have been part of this world.
Yet here he was, a demon walking beneath a guise within the realm of man. Rak`han knew such things were possible through summoning a spirit or even through possession, but this? Whatever this was exactly was new for a demon gave off no vapors of the Fade but there was certainly nothing living about the body it held. The only truth to the mask the creature wore was the way it had chosen to live. Placed within a stolen major where the trail of blood he’d wrought for such a purpose could be locked away behind silent tongues. The elven mage was only a piece to the puzzle, a witness to the outcome of one of a beast’s many crimes that rotated about crown which lacked horns.
No punishment would ever find him for a creature of Pride was clever. A monster such as he covers his tracks and erases evidence were it would have once been found. Even on part of the stolen slave, a tongue was silenced. Even if such wild claims were ever made, who would believe a worthless cretin such as the bare faced elf? Such a lowly creature would never convince another that a thing of the Fade conjured a body and now posed as a Magister they had accepted into the fold, it would only bring about laughter for a foolish thing. For they were prideful creatures who strangled one another within the upper levels of the Imperium and their minds were so often closed to suggestion.
Why would they ever suspect a demon of all things had been overlooked? Why would they trust a bruised slave over the rising tones of his master? No matter how hard they would have tried they would neither sense the Fade nor the pull of the demonic riding upon the flesh of the false one. Andormalius offered nothing to strangers, nothing in the sense of his connection to the Fade apart from a light show of magical talents. No one knew of the way the Fade once fractured at the thought of allowing the falsities of Pride to continue, they were now unnoticed.
It caused frustration to build within a fragile hear as palms so often found themselves set harshly against sunken features. Driving themselves a little too roughly against taut skin as if the pain and unease would melt away beneath the touch they were once more growing used to. For each moment twisted itself with nausea within Rak`han’s stomach and it drove a flighty creature to steal himself from the estate which now suffocated him. A very presence only strained the boy’s breath with collapsing lungs as it felt as if live sought to end itself, to finally bring about the end of the stolen property. And, were the elven mage completely honest with himself, at this point it was an outcome willingly accepted. Anything, including death, was more comforting than the actions of a demon.
That very sickness is what spurred steps to shift against the stone laden paths of Minrathous in an undirected path to seek comfort in the presence of one who had been there a year ago. Hesitance drove a gait to still as the elf came to stand before the smooth doors of the cathedral. The man within, a being known as Valefor Murmur, was perceived as a kind spirit who had offered a gentle and seemingly caring hand. He was a being who had been spotted many times hence though only a moment was spared of the slave’s time as often so many other things weighed upon a distracted mind.
Perhaps that is what brought upon worry coiling itself about the boy’s gut as an elaborate palm came to press against the heavy doors till they parted. Touch dragging out as silently the elf brought himself to stand in the entrance, pushing further as a palm slide away from the doorway. Question rose from desperate tones as Rak`han looked into the main hall, <strong style=color:#698492>“Father Murmur?”</strong> The only known title the dark haired male knew to lay upon the priest’s crown etched so carefully against the slave’s tongue. Fiery hues sought out the man who had offered a watchful eye and so often pried into the being doing Maurice’s bidding.
However, now it was Rak`han’s turn to seek out the man and allow a worried gaze to settle upon him. Going to the point of entering the large building without the prompting of the priest like before. Yet that gaze soon found the human, at least as the boy knew him, was not alone as a Templar was seated carefully at his side. Their tones died down with the interruption and it drove the gaunt elf to take a step back as he shrunk away from the duel gaze set upon him. <i>“Just a moment,”</i> tender lyrics echoed in the vast space provided around them before bright eyes returned to the Templar. Speech carried on though the slave dared not listen in. Instead eyes found themselves elsewhere as patience was everlasting upon a creature who was used to waiting.
Nov 12 2017, 09:52 PM
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Secrets found themselves coiled about the throat of a forgotten being. A worthless soul entrapped in the snares of the unholy who posed himself as the just. Fabricated lies coupled to a deceitful existence both in body and mind as one of the Fade ruptured the meaning of reality. Pride sought out man and with it the destruction of anything around it, though one was being careful. Ghosting along through the streets of Minrathous only to walk amongst the upper crust of the Imperium with falsity tracing every lyric which rose from a calculated tongue. Rak`han, having met the beast before, was the only unfortunate soul to know of the monster behind the man.
Though it brought about no changes in the way a beast acted. A false creature dancing beyond the reaches of the veil as he postured behind unknown magic, a force which drove away the sensation of a demon walking alongside those with blood in their veins. It was perplexing though a topic the elven mage did not divulge himself in fully as avoidance was more the route taken when it came to the creature known as Andromalius Xaphan. Yet on this day it was not a wish that was to be granted for that silent and ever haunting tone whispered against the elf’s mind. <i>“Rak`han,”</i> a pause as those enchanted melodies died out only to rise with as much vigor as before. A demand cradled itself upon the senses in a way that could not be ignored, <i>“Come here.”</i>
Hesitation wrote itself upon each step that guided the gilded slave through the twisted hallways of the estate. A gentle click resounding with each step as shoes slide against the hard floors till a lean frame was brought to the entrance of the beast’s chosen lair within the stolen estate. For a moment silence driven by an everlasting fear rode upon the slave’s tongue, stilled as those faded hues settled against the dark eyes of the proclaimed Magister. Words were unneeded, unwanted even, as the demon stood in wait knowing full well that the call would be answered. Yet even with the appearance of a slave there was not a word to be exchanged. Only action which ushered the boy to follow as the false entity shifted to the door and out into the streets of Minrathous.
Faithfulness, though it twisted like a dagger within Rak`han’s stomach, was the guise worn in that fallen expression as steps followed like a devotee to a broken religion. Defiance had found itself melted away over the past few months as it turned into loathing with no place to go but towards oneself. For it spiraled down with a disgust towards oneself as it branched from the feelings of the one trailed after. A creature with no qualms, a beast so ready to inflict damage upon stolen property, a demon who could only sink his teeth into a beating heart in hopes to still it. He shattered hope and had stolen away what now seemed to be fabricated happiness – though the slave dreamed to go back to it, even if it had been untrue within the hold of one once known as Maurice.
Breath rolled from the elf’s nose in a sigh as sights turned upon the buildings they now passed along the main street. Xaphan, the false one, seemed to have a goal in mind for it was not much longer before those dark eyes turned back to rest upon the slave. Spine stiffened as Rak`han stopped in his tracks and looked towards the form who had stolen himself from the entrance to an building he’d not realized they’d stopped at. Gaze flickered towards the one who’d made his presence known, a human notable as a Magister though the slave did not know his name nor did he care to find out. The time was not offered for such an action for the one who had pulled the slave from the manor now sought to be rid of him.
Claws soon raked at the elf’s spine through a hauntingly human hand as a sharp push was offered against the boy as if to drive him away quicker than steps alone would have offered. Harsh tones befell the demon’s tongue as it was made known this conversation was not meant for the unworthy. So the dark haired elf pulled from the touch, twisted till it he was able to displace himself from the quarry of the false one’s side. Attentions quickly turned away from those who were now at the slave’s back and Rak`han was more than eager to allow himself to wander. Yet no plans had been made, no guiding action pulled that gait in one direction, so a slave was left to hover in the distance. The knowledge that Xaphan would hunt him down only to impale him upon those incorporeal hooks when he found his business closed with that unfortunate creature who was now in his company.

Oct 12 2017, 12:14 AM
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</object><p><i>TBD</i><p></center><div style="width: 462px; padding: 0px 10px 10px 10px;">When the mage had allowed tentative steps to first touch upon the stone laden streets of Tevinter, the sun was only just beginning to crown the horizon of the early morn. It had not taken Rak`han long to come to the decision that as little time as possible would be spent within those unwelcoming walls of a stolen estate. Actions such as these had never been done beneath what had been perceived as a caring hold in Maurice’s arms and now it came as a foreign belief to the elf. A break of routine which had become settled into place years ago. Everything was changing and it wasn’t for the better.
Beneath the beast who played human the slave was left tense and stressed for amusement so often stemmed from a demon’s infliction upon those who surrounded him. No doubt was held in the mage’s mind that the demon prowled Minrathous to feed upon the downfall of man, but so often did it seem those hungry eyes bore into the back of a worried crown. So near did it seem the monster hovered about newly stolen prey only to reach out with a calloused and rough touch. Pressing boldly against a form that did not welcome it, but it didn’t matter, for the elf was property.
Property meant it was only to be fed by a master’s wishes, even if it were not for the better. An electric touch was set against bare skin so often to the point that now all which could be offered was a stifled cry each time contact was found. Muscles had worn themselves down though still they seized, tightened up painfully as nerves pulsed to life around them with no control. And when they released they could only scream out in agony as they grew ever sorer as they became overused merely due to a sensation running a chosen course. It was becoming too much.
And it was with each action of a spiteful being that the effects of his treatment within became more prominent upon a very mortal being. Bruises had bloomed in mismatched patterns against Rak`han’s skin from these repeated shows of physicality and magical prowess. Most of the damages done by Andromalius were concealed by what decorative clothing remained in the elf’s grasp. Fabrics of blackened charcoal adorn itself upon the slave as gold embroidered every edge. Stitching matching the jewelry that came to twist upon a golden collar and the elaborate designs which raced upon his chest, back, and arms.
Though just because clothing which was somewhat concealing was draped against a gaunt frame it did not mean damages were not presented towards the world. For the most noticeable of the bruising came to color itself in a multitoned pattern against the right side of the elf’s face. A label that it had been struck more than once, allowing one point to heal before another was put into place. However, it was not the most prominent mark if one were able to look past the dark hair which so easily fell against the slave’s shoulders in a ways of concealment.
Dancing across the slave’s back only to arch up against the left shoulder before fragmenting out against the bicep was a Lichtenburg figure of various different burn degrees. A byproduct not of brute force but from a demon’s persistence and continuous show of power against a worn down frame. The skin there was raw and angry in spots while others appeared more burnt, blackened, as scabs attempted to heal electrical marks. Such points of deadening resembling fingerprints, points of contact, were a demon touched down to issue theses assaults. Pain was off and on, highly dependent on which area of the mark was brushed against, though it mattered not in this case. For each aching step brought forth a twinge of pain to a body that was reaching a breaking point.
Such things drew questioning from the tongues of worried creatures as a slave moved through the poorer areas of Minrathous. Those who once saw him daily seeing less of the creature. It started with a sudden cut off, a timeframe of nothing, only for an elf to reappear in their region in this state. How desperately they took his hands, pleaded that the boy stay awhile, anything to bid him near for they feared the worst should they let him go. Yet it is denial that still finds a worried tongue, they did not deserve the titles of whatever crime Andromalius would surely place upon them should they be discovered housing what was not theirs. Rak`han could only grant them a weak smile with a lie lacing his tongue, <i>I’ll be fine</i>, though not even the slave could fool himself with those tones.
And even as the male pulled from worried eyes he found reluctance to return to the hold of a hateful Magister. It kept the boy lingering in the far reaches of the city long passed the time the sun came to hang low upon the horizon. The great bright light kissed the tops of the stone walls as it spat sunbeams to dance against the sky in brilliant oranges and purples. This was the light he would hide beneath from a man who would surely seek him out at some point. Yet a slave remained free in one sense for a tracking crystal, set so harshly against a worn down ear, had yet to be discovered by the Magister. For a slave proclaimed it was nothing but a gem so it would remain unbound to a pompous beast. It would be but a mystery which resided so near to carefully crafted golden hoops set against mismatched ears.
Though such things are functional in picking up the murmurs on the street. Questions rising from the tongues of the poor or enslaved folks of Minrathous as their sung of a tale of a strange Dalish roaming the streets as if looking for something. Noble’s crowns turned from such things as their eyes had declared these stories unimportant to them for the class which allowed them to ring from their tongues were the lowly, unworthy of being taken seriously. Though it did nothing to stop the thoughts of a stolen slave to drift into question. Who would be foolish enough to come here alone? The tales did not speak of traveling companions – yet Rak`han could not bring himself to care. A stranger was not his problem and he was not about to hunt down an irrational man.
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