[Approved by Jade] Gurgeh

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User avatar
Posts: 31
Joined: Wed Apr 20, 2016 9:47 pm
Race: Qi'ora
Renown: -30
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1





Basic Information

Race: Yludih

Forms: Avriel, Human

Pseudonyms: Vyren

Date of Birth: 1st Saun 694, 21 Arcs

Languages Spoken:
Fluent: Lorien
Basic: Common

Current Profession: Slaver

Factions: Athartian Slave Radiers

The Avriel


Avriel is the form that Vyren is most comfortable in. He has large, muscular ivory wings with tinges of red at the edges which sets the colour scheme for the rest of his body. His head is feathered, and the short quills are similar to his wings as they extend down the back of his neck, eventually growing into his wings. He stands at an average height, and is rather unremarkable to most.

His eyes are an oddity, a feral red in regular light and darkening to look like almost maroon in the bright desert sun. His skin is light, and he has a large birthmark shaped like a coiled whip covering his upper thigh. He is rarely seen without his actual whip at his side, a gift from his father. His hands are long and scaly, talons extending from the tips to vicious points. He likes light mail, as does most of the Avriel race, however he dislikes heavy cloths, instead preferring airy, lighter fabrics draped around his broad shoulders.

The Human
Face Claim: Noah Mills

His Human form is slightly uncomfortable to him, as he still thinks of himself as mainly Avriel. The fact that he needs to stoop so low as to be landlocked bothered him for many breaks, and it was just recently that he accepted this as who he is, and embraced the form.

His colouring changes drastically between his forms. His hair grows, and becomes dark though it remains short. His skin looses is pale luster, and becomes swarthy, and bristly hair sprouts from his face. His red eyes dim, and become more akin to copper than true red.
Last edited by Gurgeh on Mon May 02, 2016 1:32 am, edited 5 times in total. word count: 334
User avatar
Posts: 31
Joined: Wed Apr 20, 2016 9:47 pm
Race: Qi'ora
Renown: -30
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1





Early Years
Vyren spent his first arcs at court. His mother, Valena, was a low level servant of a noble. She was a Yludih, and though Vyren never found out how, her master discovered her secret. However, rather than reporting her, or making it public knowledge, he in turn revealed that he too was Yludih.

One drunken night, as their crystals blazed with energy, they made Gurgeh. His father adopted the boy, but insisted that no one ever know who his mother was. She faded into the ranks of the servants, and rarely had a chance to see her son.

His father had no other children, due to him being Yludih, but that was for the best. He rarely had time, or the patience, to deal with Vyren. He was often left to the devices of various caretakers and nannies. As he grew, he accidentally discovered Uleuda by himself, and when he attempted to talk to his father about it, the man brushed him off. As such, he had very little formal education in Yludih.

He fooled around with many of the other Avriel young, however they were taught very little as children, due to their wild nature, and he spent most of his trials exploring the castle. He made several friends among the noble's sons, and would often play fight with swords, or spend the afternoon flying above the city.

From birth, Vyren had known how to change forms. It was normal to him, so he didn't realize that he was an oddity amongst the Yludih. However, for his formative arcs, the overall impression of humans was subpar, and that attitude rubbed off on Vyren, causing him to reject his human side for arcs.

He also, from a young age, had been surprisingly adept at convincing people. Be it through the use of bribery, intimidation, or his several attempts at seduction, he could occasionally get what he wanted.
The Wilds
When the time came, Vyren was released with the rest of the young Avriel. However, unlike the rest of them, he had no need for that time. His father had made it clear that he must go through with it in order to keep up appearances, so he soon found himself alone at the edge of the desert.

His father hadn't abandoned him though. Instead, several trials into it, an Avriel had appeared over the horizon, carrying a bag with some supplies, bolas and a whip. He hadn't recognized the dark-haired Avriel, but the woman had brought a letter from his father.

He spent several arcs exploring, and found he had a slight talent in tracking animals, and often found himself able to catch his game with naught but the bolas he had been given.

He slowly made his way back to Athart, and his reappearance was greeted with a minimum of celebration. His father welcomed him back, and made preparations for Vyren to join the Dominion.
The Downfall
However, before Vyren could join the Dominion, disaster struck. He was sitting atop one of his favourite spires, watching the world below, when he saw ranks upon ranks of Crown Guard entering his family's house. They came out a break later, dragging everyone- Avriel and Human, Servant and Master. His confusion grew, and feeling a pit in his stomach, he flew to a friends house.

There he learned that there had been evidence of treachery in the house, and it had been tied to his father. As such, the whole house was arrested, pending trial. There was a search warrant out for Vyren, but his friend gave him shelter for the night, before sending him on his way with food and new clothing.
The Fresh Start
Vyren fled the city, fearing the consequences if he were found. He flew for a full trial, before collapsing in a heap. He was found by a small Slave Trading caravan, who promptly clapped him in irons. Vyren spent the next two trials resting, and observing. Through a stroke of luck, he managed to turn two of the guards against each other, and slipped his chains in the ensuing chaos.

He was lost, in an unknown country and without supplies. He ran into several trader caravans, but avoided them out of fear, until thirst drove him to one. Again, his luck held and the Slaver had lost four guards in a recent attack, so hired Vyren on the spot.

He taught him the basics of the whip, and fundamentals of how and when to use the bolas. The man was stern, but fair. It was from him that Vyren got his moral compass, and it was this man who taught Vyren that the strong survive. He caught Vyren transitioning his forms, and was one of the principal reasons that Vyren came to accept his human form as part of him,

The arc spent with the slave caravan was incredibly insightful for Vyren, and helped him temper much of his anger towards his father, instead redirecting it towards Arthart in general.

This time period ended with him entering Korlasir. There, he met Raskalarn.

Servant of Raskalarn

Vyren clomped up the street after Harrow and Reden, his masters boots barely making a sound on the cobbled streets. They had arrived in Korlasir almost a fortnight ago, and were just about to sell off their most expensive slaves-two sister Sev'ryn animal trainers. They had caught the pair of girls as part of a caravan attempting to cross the Hotlands.

The girls had revealed themselves as animal trainers, in an attempt to get better treatment from the slavers. It had worked, and they had been given a lot of freedom during the march to the capital. But now their time together was at an end, and the sisters marched, laden in chains, up the hill.

Harrow hadn't said who was purchasing them, which was out of character for the coarse man. He believed in openness, and was actually very fair for a man who sold people for a living. He was tall and thin, his face covered with small scars.

Reden, on the other hand, was everything you'd expect in a slaver. He was cruel, petty and twisted, but he knew his place in the caravan and listened to Harrow. To Vyren, on the other hand, he showed no signs of respect. He would go out of his way to make Vyren's time more difficult, and many mornings Vyren would wake to find scorpions covering the ground in his tent, and bait buried under his floor. The two had butted heads more than once, just as much due to Vyren as Reden. Vyren would refuse to back down, and often bordered on mutinous when it came to the lieutenant.

As the five trundled up the street, the early morning sun just peeked over the horizon, casting long shadows as it dispelled the night's dew. Vyren's eyes were bleary, and he struggled to keep them open while they walked the city streets. They arrived at a nondescript house, gated walls separating it from the nearby buildings. Vyren looked around, not recognizing where they were. Huh, thats odd. I wonder where we are?

The gate swung open, but there didn't appear to be anyone there. Harrow confidently led the way, opening the front door as if it were his own house. He twisted and turned down hallways, and wound up in a large, empty room, a single Raskithecal waiting inside. His tail was long, and jet black, and his upper body was strong and lithe. Vyren was normally fine when dealing with the snake-people, but for whatever reason, he felt an instant loathing for the creature before him.

"Good Morning. I assume these are the ones I asked for?" His voice was quiet, and Vyren had to strain to hear it.

"Yes, that's correct. Do you have our agreed upon price?" Harrow's voice seemed to echo in the large chamber.

The Raskithecal pulled out two onyx nel, and Vyren's eyes widened. I've never seen this much money in one place! He wanted to touch it, to hold it, but he restrained himself. "Here it is."

Harrow took the coins, and handed the Raskithecal the chains, and the paperwork to confirm they were the snakes slaves. He nodded once, and left, Reden and Vyren following close after him. As he left the chamber, he felt the snake's eyes on him, burning a hole through his shoulders.

Back in the fresh air, Harrow smiled and relaxed, his tense muscles loosening. "Haha! We did it!" He smiled at the other two. "That one's one of the Order. Sorry for the secrecy, but this time I've got a reason. I got a message about a season ago without a name, simply stating that caravan, and all its details. I was instructed to go and capture these two, and return to sell them to him." He turned as he finished his explanation, and left to return to their Inn, Reden and Vyren jogging to keep up.
Arc 714, 25th Trial of Ymiden
Vyren was shaken, and he felt himself be pulled from Uleuda. He opened his eyes, and started as a woman stared down into them. His confusion lasted only a second, as she grabbed him, and easily hauled him upright. He tottered, disoriented, and she slowly spoke to him in a loud voice, making sure he understood her.

"Are you part of Harrow's Caravan?" Vyren nodded his head, still confused by what was happened. He took another look at the woman, and realized she was part of the guard. She wore armour, and upon his response, she procured a pair of manacles, and slapped them on his wrists.

"Then you are hereby arrested for treason." Her voice grew hard, and her eyes were flinty as they gazed upon him. She slithered out of the room, pushing him ahead of her. What, treason? What is she talking about? His thoughts spun around in his head, and he couldn't even form words. All through the Inn he saw the others from the Caravan pulled from their rooms in a similar fashion, disheveled hair and cuffed hands.

They were marched down the street, and were pulled into a courtroom. The massive hall was empty at the moment, but Vyren had seen how packed it would get for regular crimes, not to mention how well treason would go over. He attempted to talk to Harrow, chained next to him, but a firm rap with the but of a spear put an end to that. The remained standing for almost three breaks as Raskithecal slithered in from across the city. Soon, the room was packed, but the voices remained quiet, as Vyren had expected from the quiet Raskithecal. An old snake slid up to the front of the room, and pulled out a sheaf of paper.

Vyren remained in a daze as, one by one, the members of the Caravan were called in front of the room, and faced with evidence of their 'treason'. They were all found guilty, though the evidence was different for each one. His confusion grew until he caught sight of the Raskithecal they had delivered the slaves to. He was sitting in the middle of the crowd, but he met Vyren's eyes, and smiled, making a slitting motion across his throat.

Dawning realization broke across Vyren's faec. He did this! The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. The snake would have had access to the resources to set this up, but why? What did he have to gain? The questions flew around and around Vyren's head, until he was called to the front. He turned and looked up at the crowd, seeing no mercy in their faces. He looked back at the front as they began to describe the evidence against him. He zoned out, staring at the Raskithecal who set this all up. The snakes smile grew, and it taunted Vyren. I won it screamed. Vyren's eyes dropped to the front, and landed on one of the guards, a faint thrill of hope rushing through his body.

"I invoke the Law of Trial by Combat. " His voice interrupted the man describing his offenses, and he looked up in shock.

The old Raskithecal shook his head sadly, looking at the smaller Avriel with something akin to sorrow in his eyes. "You know what that entails?" His voice expressed hope that Vyren didn't.

But when Vyren simply nodded, the old Raskithecal gestured to the audience, and the snake from the audience came forward. The muscle bound torso was more impressive today than it had been the other morning, and as the snake drew a sword from a nearby guard he felt a small pit of worry in his stomach. His manacles were unlocked, and he was returned his weapons- several bolas and his whip.

The fight began simply, with the old judge nodding to them both. The Order snake circled him, the long body sliding across the stone floor. He dashed in, and Vyren felt a burning pain across his cheek before the snake was gone again. Looking up, he saw the realization of what he was cross the Raskithecal's face. Light energy poured from the wound, and a gasp echoed through the courtroom. Yludih, yludih, yludih.

He circled with the snake, trying to keep him in his sights, but it made no difference. Another dash in, and more pain flared across his body. Vyren was confused, realizing how out classed he was, but the snake seemed to be toying with him. He lashed out with his whip, but the snake easily batted it away, knocking it from his hands. Again and again it happened, the snake dashing in and out before Vyren even felt the wound. His body began to get weaker as he felt the light energy pour from wounds across his body.

He slowly realized how skilled the Raskithecal was, and started to put it all together. For whatever reason, the snake wanted revenge for something. Based on how closely the judge was watching the fight, he would call it soon. So the snake wanted to inflict as much pain as possible before the fight would be over.

When this clicked in his mind, he decided to go for it. He snapped his wings out, and flapped up, stirring up the dust across the ground, and almost making it out of reach. But a quick lunge by the snake and several feathers fell, shattering as they returned to crystals mid-air. Vyren couldn't recreate them fast enough, and he listed sideways, crashing heavily into a pillar. He fell, but managed to fold his wings up and land on his feet. Fear flitted across his face, and he felt his ankle crack as he landed. It was then that the Raskithecal decided to leap forward, using his tail as a spring. As Vyren fell, his ankle shattered, the Raskithecal leapt forward in a flourish, trying to show off for the crowd. But he hadn't planned on Vyren falling, and the momentum he had put behind his leap was too much to stop. He swung wildly, but missed the Yludih, and crashed heavily into the pillar, shaking the building.

A cloud of dirt rained down from the roof, and the dust obscured the floor. As it slowly cleared, it revealed the Raskithecal out cold, Vyren tottering atop the collapsed body. The judge nodded, as if he had known what would happen, and called out "Innocent". Vyren collapsed, that one precious word echoing in his mind.
Arc 714, 27th Trial of Ymiden
Vyren slowly awoke feeling refreshed, though stiff as if he hadn't moved in trials. He pushed himself up, wincing as cuts across his chest and back pulled. He shifted into a more comfortable position, and looked up. The room was simple, almost minimalist. A plain bed and three chairs, as well as a single dresser on the far wall. A small window let in a few rays of light, which lit up the dust motes floating through the air.

Vyren zoned out, staring at the dancing particles before he caught himself, and shook his head. Come on, focus. Where am I? Just as he thought that, a small human girl pushed open the door, her head down. In her arms was a set of clothing, and she pulled in a cart laden with various food and alcohol. She brought it in, and set it next to the bed, all without meeting Vyren's eyes. He noticed the brand on her arm, and nodded to himself. Ah, slave. I wonder if she's one of the ones I brought in... She shifted some things around, and began addressing him.

"Here you go mister. The clothing is to be worn when you meet her Highness, which it in three breaks. The food is to assist in your healing, and there has been a bath drawn for you when you are ready." Her head down, she spoke to the floor, and darted out of the room when she had finished speaking. Vyren stared after her, slightly annoyed. Dumb little girl, I wanted to ask where the baths were...Oh well.

He polished off the food and alcohol, feeling much stronger once the cart was clean. Standing was a chore, but he noticed a crutch on the wall, which greatly helped with his ankle. It hurt to put pressure on it, but it looked normal, so it should heal properly.

He opened his door to see two massive Raskithecal in armour. They looked down at him, and he quickly asked, "Which way to the baths?" He wasn't used to feeling so intimidated, and he didn't like it, but he refused to let it show.

Two breaks later it was time to meet Her Highness. He had heard Harrow speak of Raskalarn, but only in hushed voices when they were outside of the Empire. When inside the borders it was dangerous, and just plain foolhardy, when the natives could barely understand you. Afterall, they may assume you're plotting to kill her, or do something treasonous. He snorted, Not that it saved him from being labeled a traitor. His rumination were cut short as the door was pushed open, and another slave came, brusquely telling him to follow.

When he arrived in the small room, he was surprised. He had assumed he'd meet her in the throne room, but this obviously wasn't meant for the open court. They had twisted and turned down dozens of different passages on their way here, and hadn't seen anyone else for twenty or more bits.

She was standing, facing out the rooms sole window. Her long, raven hair cascaded down her back, and Vyren felt an implacable will emanate from her. As she turned to face him, he was transfixed by her deep green eyes.

"You're the Yludih?" Her voice was rich and strong, and the authority behind is awed Vyren. So this is true power and grace combined. Those Avriel think they're above this?

He cleared his throat, and responded. "Yes, your Highness, that's correct." Before she asked, he switched, feeling the hot-cold mix that he loved. Shivers went down his spine at the sensation, and he had to refocus on her after he was done.

Her eyes followed the motion, widening slightly at the change. Where a pale, red eyed Avriel had stood, a darker man remained. The change in appearance was drastic, and she never would have put the two together. She allowed a smile to cross her face at the thought of what she could accomplish with such a tool.

"My my, very impressive. What's your name?"

"Vyren, your Highness." He lowered his eyes, feeling like respect would be vital.

"Hmm, Vyren. Now tell me, Vyren, why are you not living in Athart like the rest of your 'kind'?" Her emphasis on the word made it obvious she had no respect for them.

"My father was arrested for treason despite never committing any, and his entire staff, including my mother, were clipped. The smug bastards didn't find me, and didn't even care that they hadn't. When I showed up a month later, it was as if nothing had happened, as if they didn't know who I was. I'm done with that city, and its rulers." His voice leaked anger, but he caught himself and controlled it.

Hmm, rage, but he can control it. This is perfect for me. Raskalarn thought, as she continued. "I would like you to return, as my spy. You will infiltrate the Athartian Slave Raiders, as a Human, and do your best to reduce the city to ruin, however possible. You will also keep in contact with me, and I will periodically update you with tasks I require of you."

She stopped, and looked at him, as if waiting for his response. He looked at her, unsure how to reply.

He made a mental list as he weighed the decision before him. First, he would get to leave here alive, and free, unlike the rest of the caravan. Second, he would get a chance to screw over Athart, and possibly even cause it to fall- he definitely liked that part. And finally, he would gain her approval, and despite just meeting her, he desperately ached for it. The power and conviction she gave off was like an aphrodisiac to him. "Yes. I'll do it."

She nodded at his acceptance, and reached out a hand to touch his brow. "You belong to me now. Do not forget."

As her hand made contact, Vyren felt a band snap out and around his head. As it did so, he felt his resolve grow stronger, and felt strength flow through him. His already strong impression of Rasklarn doubled, and he felt himself tied to her. She removed her hand, and he reached up, finding nothing but his skin.

"Now go, and return. I shall contact you by the method I determine best." She turned around, as if he had already left.

Vyren felt the urge to bow, but fought it, and left the room, his fingers playing across his brow, rubbing the lines he could still feel.

He eventually returned to Athart, however this time as a human. He worked his way into the Slave Raiders, and found himself a place. He hated Athart, and all it stood for, and decided that he would do whatever was necessary to bring the city to its knees.
Last edited by Gurgeh on Sun Jun 19, 2016 3:31 am, edited 6 times in total. word count: 3817
User avatar
Posts: 31
Joined: Wed Apr 20, 2016 9:47 pm
Race: Qi'ora
Renown: -30
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1






He does not change his personality much between the two forms, finding that how he acts and thinks are independent of his physical body. He has a tendency towards arrogance, however he is aware of it and often catches himself acting haughty. This is likely due to his upbringing as an Avriel. He self-identifies closest to an Avriel, however since he returned he has taken a greater interest in cutting out that part of his personality, instead attempting to become a Yludih in mind and spirit.

He has found that many of the traits Avriel possess have not infected him. He excels at waiting, and his patience is boundless. He has managed to get an impressive amount of control over his emotions, which assists him in making cold, rational decisions.

Despite many not affecting him, one Avriel feature that does describe him is mathematical. Vyren often finds himself making decisions without considering feelings, and this cold, calculating side to him has become more prevalent since he joined the Artharian Slave Raiders.

He firmly believes in the saying 'the strong survive', and it has become his motto. In his eyes, this can apply to any situation, and helps guide him in his actions. By choosing what serves him best, and assuming that everyone else is doing the same he removes any sense of guilt of responsibility for the effects of the decision. It is simply whoever is stronger will come out on top.

This is not to say that he is anti-social. Within the Raiders he has made numerous friends, and overall has found them to be a welcoming bunch. The fact that he is Yludih has helped him with the transition, from looking at Avriel as near Immortals to seeing them for what they truly are- deeply flawed creatures, like all others in Idalos. However, he has realized how intense the tensions are between the Raiders and the Aeire, and this has caused him to be extra careful when switching forms.
Starting Package+100GN100GN
Sold House+250GN350GN
Bought Starting Supplies(Leather Armour, Horse, Waterskins)-130GN220GN



Mark of Krorros


  • Words of Empowerment (Minor)
    • Can be in the form of poetry, lyrics, story, or speech. The character is able to empower and buff a single person or themselves with strength and focus. The effects only last for a short period of time.
  • Enduring Aura (Minor)
    • When this skill is activated, the user finds themselves better able to absorb damage for a short time, allowing them to defend their allies longer. This does not protect the bearer from fatal or disabling wounds, but minor wear and tear on the body can be withstood more easily.


Raskalarn's Blessing: Krorros
Favored: Empowering Speech
Favored: Ignore Pain
Overconfidence Can Still Get You Killed
Avoid Predictable Attack Patterns
Last edited by Gurgeh on Thu Jun 16, 2016 12:17 am, edited 8 times in total. word count: 489
User avatar
Posts: 31
Joined: Wed Apr 20, 2016 9:47 pm
Race: Qi'ora
Renown: -30
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1






Social Skills

SkillAcquiredPoints Spent

Physical Skills

SkillAcquiredPoints Spent
Whips (Bullwhip)23/10023/251
Thrown (Bolas)2/1002/251
Mount (Poko)2/1002/251
Unarmed Combat (Boxing)1/1001/251

Magic Skills


Intellectual Skills

Field Craft8/1008/251
Animal handling2/1002/251



Athart: Raiders Layout
Location: The Hotlands
Slaves: Control is Key
Location: Korlasir[ML]
Location: Uleuda[ML]
What it is to be a Slave[ML]
Belonging to a Disgraced House[ML]
Knowing the Look of a Defeated Slave
NPC: Aleia, the "Ice Queen"
NPC: Tygar, Slaver Commander
Pokos Can Sense a Rider's Attitude
Race: Avriel
Seeing Through a Mirage
The "Thrill of the Chase" Has its Limits

Whip: Can Cut or Trip
Immortals: Raskalarn's Home
Uleuda: Not to Be Discussed[ML]
Korlasir Custom: Trial by Combat[ML]
Ranged Weapon: Bola[ML]
Flex Weapon: Whip[ML]
Aleia: Easily Provoked
Avriel are Assholes Arrogant
Tygar: Easily Appeased Pride
Tygar: A Show-off and a Fool
Unarmed: Coiled Whip as a Cestus Weapon
Unarmed: Disarmed Does Not Mean Helpless
  • Clothing
    • Sandals
    • Leather Body Armour
    • Leather Fauld
    • Leather Greaves
    • Leather Pauldrons
    • Loose Fitting White Silk Shirt
    • Light Brown Mottled Cloak
    • Loose Fitting Trousers
  • Bullwhip, present from his Father
  • 4xWaterskin
  • 2xEating Utensils
  • Toiletries
  • Trained Riding Horse
  • Tinderbox
Last edited by Gurgeh on Tue May 03, 2016 10:39 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 260
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