Plucked Wings - Neohrai
Dec 12, 2015 21:44:08 GMT
Post by kaz on Dec 12, 2015 21:44:08 GMT
The man was rather tall though his most notable features were the sleek silver hair that covered his head and somewhat concealed his pointed ears as well as nesting a pair of horns that sat atop his head. Golden eyes gave an intense stare that contrasted with his kind facial features. When uncovered, his shoulders were seen donning tattoos of symmetrical incandescent and golden shoulder-plates that reflected the light cast upon it.
His demeanor was calm, neither prideful nor arrogant, and his bright eyes stared back at the darkness of the world with sorrow and determination.
His demeanor was calm, neither prideful nor arrogant, and his bright eyes stared back at the darkness of the world with sorrow and determination.
The boy could have lived in Muhlorand with his kin if it were not for the selfish thirst for power of a group of people. It was soon after his birth that Neohrai was stolen from his home by the Coven of the Blood Chalice, a community of witches that were known for their dealings with Hell and the Abyss and their persistence regarding acquiring lost and forbidden secrets.
But it was different this time, they had no interest in devils & demons but in something else, something new. The Elder of the coven was growing old – too old – and years of research and experimentation brought her to believe that celestials had the answers she sought. Except a baby had very little to offer in terms of life force, and so the coven raised the child as one of their own, grooming him and caring for him until maturity. He spent years surrounded by vipers, oblivious of his destiny.
Neohrai was nearing his sixteenth birthday when he woke up one morning and found himself bound to a sacrificial altar in the chapel he had always been told not to venture in. The masks had been torn and he wasn’t given the courtesy of an explanation. As a dagger plunged into his heart, time seemed to stop, and a winged figure traversed the eastern window as the sun began to rise. All he could feel in that moment, was the celestial blood of his veins boiling.
What happened afterward is known only to him, but he escaped from that chapel without bloodshed and within a week the coven had been uncovered and shut down by the local authorities. He technically did not exist, but he remained in Cormyr to wander and help those in need. He had seen the true faces of evil, and he knew that sometimes all that required to make a difference was a helping hand. In the years that followed, every righteous act gradually brought him closer to his heritage, and his powers grew under the guise of his guardian – Raziel.
The celestial paragon spoke to him through his inner voice and manifested as epiphanies or intuition, but he never showed himself physically after that day in the chapel. The aasimar left Cormyr and traveled to the west by land and by sea when he discovered a lead regarding his birth place. Despite the lack of concrete evidence, hope filled his heart, and he eventually reached the Sword Coast.
It was perhaps fate, or pure hazard, but on the journey from Baldur’s Gate to Neverwinter, a storm raged down on the cargo ship that belonged to a small company. The waves, the cold and the downpour overwhelmed them, and the ship lost its way once lightning had struck the mast. The morning after, the young man found himself alone in the shipwreck among the countless bodies of the crew that had kindly accepted him free of charge. The circumstances were morbidly peaceful.
The island soon proved to be more hostile than it seemed at first, and his purpose became apparent once he realized that the dead walked the earth. When Raziel called, he answered without hesitation.
But it was different this time, they had no interest in devils & demons but in something else, something new. The Elder of the coven was growing old – too old – and years of research and experimentation brought her to believe that celestials had the answers she sought. Except a baby had very little to offer in terms of life force, and so the coven raised the child as one of their own, grooming him and caring for him until maturity. He spent years surrounded by vipers, oblivious of his destiny.
Neohrai was nearing his sixteenth birthday when he woke up one morning and found himself bound to a sacrificial altar in the chapel he had always been told not to venture in. The masks had been torn and he wasn’t given the courtesy of an explanation. As a dagger plunged into his heart, time seemed to stop, and a winged figure traversed the eastern window as the sun began to rise. All he could feel in that moment, was the celestial blood of his veins boiling.
What happened afterward is known only to him, but he escaped from that chapel without bloodshed and within a week the coven had been uncovered and shut down by the local authorities. He technically did not exist, but he remained in Cormyr to wander and help those in need. He had seen the true faces of evil, and he knew that sometimes all that required to make a difference was a helping hand. In the years that followed, every righteous act gradually brought him closer to his heritage, and his powers grew under the guise of his guardian – Raziel.
The celestial paragon spoke to him through his inner voice and manifested as epiphanies or intuition, but he never showed himself physically after that day in the chapel. The aasimar left Cormyr and traveled to the west by land and by sea when he discovered a lead regarding his birth place. Despite the lack of concrete evidence, hope filled his heart, and he eventually reached the Sword Coast.
It was perhaps fate, or pure hazard, but on the journey from Baldur’s Gate to Neverwinter, a storm raged down on the cargo ship that belonged to a small company. The waves, the cold and the downpour overwhelmed them, and the ship lost its way once lightning had struck the mast. The morning after, the young man found himself alone in the shipwreck among the countless bodies of the crew that had kindly accepted him free of charge. The circumstances were morbidly peaceful.
The island soon proved to be more hostile than it seemed at first, and his purpose became apparent once he realized that the dead walked the earth. When Raziel called, he answered without hesitation.
