Thazahlus Brem

Male, Corrupted by the Abyss (Human (Mulani)), Conjurer 5/ Human Paragon 3/ Fiend Binder 10/ Thrall of Demogorgon 4

DESCRIPTION
Age: 292
Born: Kythorn 13, 1083
Height: 5’ 10”
Weight: 160
Hair: Bald.
Eyes: Milky White. No pupils, no irises.
Skin: A sallow Tan, he is an excellent specimen of the Mulani race.
Facial Hair: Thick brown beard, with long braded moustache.
Handedness: Favours right hand, but has worked extensively with his left knowing all to well use of the right is not always guaranteed.
Scars/Tattoos: Tattoos decorate much of his unseen body, the ends of which protrude up his neck, and onto his head.


General Physical Description

Fairly lithe, a typical trait of the Mulani race, he remains for the most part un-toned despite his years, having done little -- short of simply existing as he pleases for nearly three centuries-- that could further define any underlying muscle.

His overall health is paramount to him, though the way he drinks any vintage of good brandy coupled with his enjoyment for fine cigars, might make on question such a drive for existence. While he likes to think of himself as fairly nimble on his feat, he relies more heavily upon magic to solve a problem, rather than make move to clear a foes path.

Despite his advanced age, he outwardly appears to be no more than in his early 30’s of life. Powerful necromantic magic has allowed him to steal the life of others to extend his own, and so far he neither regrets, nor has suffered for living as long as he has.

Thazahlus’s voice is deep, and heavily accented. He speaks several varied tongues quite fluidly -- The most impressive of which being a smattering of the vile Dark Speech --, though sees speaking outside his own native one, an affront to his rights as Mulani, and a man of the red cloth. While similar enough to be recognized as modern Thayan, it is somewhat archaic in its tone, as last time he stood on his home soil was well before the battle for Impiltur in 1110 DR

Having suffered many injuries, and several brushes with death, it is a wonder he still walks up right with such ease. All show of any wound ever being dealt, has been meticulously removed, along with in most cases the dealer of such an attack.

Clothing/Armour

Garbed in the heavy finery of Thay’s past, his robe is as well maintained --despite its many long years of use-- as all other aspects of his person are. The cuffs are trimmed in a course black with underlying white fur, and around his waste is loosely tied a sash of sunset orange, sporting a blue marble gem, of unknown origin, at it‘s centre.

On either hip rests comfortably an assortment of spell pouches, scroll cases, and a side bag for any manner of object not belonging in the previous two.

Heavy soled, deep Rothe hide boots round out the appearance though they make barely a whisper when the times comes for silence.

Weapons/Equipment

Possessing several staffs, and concealed magic weapons, he rarely keeps anything that is worth more in gold, than in every day use.

Items of Interest

His most prized possession --having acquired it only within the last few years -- Is an amulet designed specifically to keep thoughts of mind warping means, from entering and damaging what is clearly his most important feature. He wears several other rings of varied enchantments, yet none are visible beneath the dark leather gloves he perpetually wears.


PERSONALITY

Bitter, witty and bluntly short with most, Thazahlus has little time for those not indoctrinated into the strict guidelines set for by a society he wishes to be at the top for. He has no qualms with lording his superior intelligence over all about him, and is content in knowing that even when he’s wrong, he can yet work the situation in his favour. Laws are only to be broken if he is the breaker, and he detests those who counter his opinions with anything less than brilliant revelations.

He is a keenly intelligent man, of a passable charisma when the situation dictates. Destruction is often the preferred method of negotiation, as he sees someone willing to oppose him once, more likely to re-offend regardless of any pact made to the contrary.

His dislikes are many, though none more keenly so than the filthy degenerate undead. He loathes the walking corpses with every ounce of his being, and would like nothing more than to see them, and their foul masters both divine and demonic, crushed beneath the heels of their betters. Which ultimately stems down to himself.

He fears death more than anything else, not for the actual event but for the servitude he knows will unquestionably follow his demise. Situations that are clearly leading to that path will in most cases cause him to flee. Better to flee and live, than stay to die as the saying goes. After all a dead man can’t return to finish what his assailant started so poorly.

Outwardly he tries hard to keep all signs of disdain from his features, knowing that few take kindly to the type of berating belittling he is accustomed to dealing. There is nothing in existence he won’t look down upon at one point in time or another, yet he only openly expresses it to things who they themselves believe to be of better station than they truly are.

Simpletons and animals escape his notice for the most part, as they are just that. So far beneath him in his -- always correct -- opinion, they don’t warrant worrying about. On occasion this has gotten the better of him, but he yet lives as proof that such thoughts can’t be entirely wrong.

The world is but one small piece of the grander picture that should be his. He seeks absolute power over everything in existence, yet does not covet the seats of the gods. there is a divine codex to be followed, reducing the true powers any such being can ultimately wield and he will suffer no such restrictions. He’d much sooner remain mortal without limits, than become master through submission.


HISTORY

Birthplace:

Born in the now Priador port city of Bezantur early in Kythorn 1083, his outward appearance does not belay the centuries he has seen.

Hometown:

Currently on the run

Family

Having never met his mother, loathing his father, murdering his master, assuming his half-brother is long dead, and never seeing fit to procreate, he has no known family to which he is thoroughly pleased.

Friends

Throughout his long life, he has called no being friend --save in passing mockery. On occasion he has felt something deeper for some more than others, though they have often ended on poorer terms. Perhaps someday what he has missed will sink in, but thus far constant pursuit for social betterment has kept him thoroughly busy.

Enemies

Many, though most recently the highly unknown Xorthaul Bariath of Wyrmshadow, and the Zulkir Szass Tam of Thay

OTHER INFORMATION

Up until 1320 Dale Reckoning, Thazahlus had made excellent ground in avoiding any manner of divine calling. There was a brief period late in 1290 where he had called upon the demonic entity known to many as Demogorgon, petitioning him for aid in eradicating an old foe. With the assistance of the prince of Demons, he at last claimed revenge upon a small community of water dwelling creatures known simply as the Merrow, at last taking them from a long list to foes to reap ‘justice’ upon.

However an accident while bridging worlds to return home left him stranded in the princes dank realm, once more finding himself in need of the dark ones aid. Little seems to have changed since those long months within the nether realm, though time yet remains for much to be revealed..

Abel Yn Shafiq El Salim

Pronounced: “Ah- Bell In Sha-Fiik El Sa-Lim”

Male, Human (Calishite/ Tethyrian), Assassin Of Bhaal (Warlock 15)

DESCRIPTION
Age: 29. Born Midwinter 1343
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 160
Hair: Black, Shoulder length hair constantly kept pulled back in a tight ponytail.
Eyes: Brown
Skin: Dusky brown. Lineage heavily Calishite influenced.
Facial Hair: Clean shaven when possible. Shadow - Stubble while on the road.
Handedness: Ambidextrous to an extent, Abel nonetheless fights primarily right handed.
Scars/Tattoos: A face that is unmarred is the only part that does not speak to a violent past. Unclothed Abels body is riddled with scars, and improperly healed wounds. Furthermore, for those who have come close enough to see, he is missing his left testicle with the remaining scrotum being horribly mutilated.

General Physical Description

General Str, Health, Agility:

Strong, despite a thin frame, Abel prides himself on a hidden strength, that surfaces only in the most desperate of times. Coupled with quick hands, and an abuse trained body, he cuts quick and fast, opting to put down a foe with a thousand precision cuts, over the one barbaric blunt thrust.

Sadly, poor health is the sole thing standing between Abel and the mark of a top assassin. While his prowess with blade and blast is matched by few, the stamina to press the fight longer, and the ability to shrug of frenzied blows, are something long years of physical damage have left their mark on.

Voice:

A more pertinent question would be whether or not he still remembers the accent he once had. Beneath the forced personas, one can on occasion detect an undertone of a thick Amnish flare.

Having spent years away from his native soil, and much of the time in the guise of one mark or another, he has long since adopted the stilted style of more than a dozen dialects, and mannerisms. Whether he realizes the change is another question entirely.

Disabilities:

Years of violent abuse, exotic drugs and drink have left more than a passing stain on the still young Abel. Mentally he is detached, though on occasion lets slip a stutter, or twitch of unknown origin.

Whatever his reasons, he is clearly a man haunted in more ways than one.

Clothing/Armor

Fine mithril chain, lies hidden beneath a vest and breeches of off black leathers. More than that is hard to tell, however many a passing thug has paid dearly for underestimating the seemingly undefended man.

Weapons/Equipment

Openly Abel shows naught but a single blade to his person. Sheathed rather blandly on his lower back, long nights of practise have paid off with the speed with which he can draw it forth.

When pressed, surprised, or in a “playful” mood, nearly every bend of his body is defended by hidden steel. Knees, Elbows, Feet and wrists all sport retractable blades, though to date they have seen minimal action.

Several other items glow ominously under magical inspection, though the exact nature of their abilities is often left for the unfortunate recipient of blade of blast to find out.

Items of Interest

Should one find the means by which to draw away from him his belted Dagger, they will see instantly a Pommel and cross guard inlaid with the jeweled image of the fallen Lord of Murder. Tainted by the river running beneath the Boreskyr bridge, this otherwise seemingly harmless dagger, can be turned to a weapon of excruciating, bloody death in a matter of moments.

When the blade comes in contact with blood fresh from an open wound, it immediately begins burrowing into the surrounding flesh. Seconds become hours as the small blade tears violently through flesh and bone without abandon, and in a sick twist of irony, pulling the blade free oft proves worse for the unlucky victim.

Abel is known -- Or so he likes to think -- for piercing the flesh of a sleeping foe, and then reclining in amusement as the blade does his work for him.


PERSONALITY
General Personality Traits:

A chronic drug user, it is virtually impossible to find Abel not under the influence of anything he can get his hands upon.

Inducted at a young age into the world of Narcotics, since Bhaals death he has turned virtually full force into the numbing embrace of the illicit world. Drink, and drugs allow him to focus an addled mind, so much so that he no longer shows the symptoms of any but the most potent of intoxicating substances.

In truth, the drugs are the only means by which Abel can suppress the sporadic visions that assail his every waking moment. Bhaal’s death left with Abel a portion of his divine mind, leaving him virtually mad should ever he drift out of his self induced stupor.

General Int, Wis, Cha:

Of slightly above average intelligence and wisdom, Abels youthful Charm and sharp tongue make up for what his valid knowledge lacks.

Keen in the ways of battle, Abel often opts to weaken a mans spirit before taking it from him entirely.

Likes/Dislikes:

Blood always fascinated Abel, though whether this has to do with his divine patron, or some deeply seeded disorder, has never been explored.

On the flip side, he isn’t particularly enamoured of the water. The sea is a beautiful thing to behold, but the thought of chancing the unseen depths has turned him back from more than a few voyages.

Fears:

As much as he hates the cacophony of voices raging inside his mind, he fears the silence far more. No voices means no god. No god no power. No power, and he is nothing but the helpless little boy whom he despises and pities.

Attitudes towards friends/strangers

Quiet yet imposing, whether intentional or not, Abel tries to be the supreme presence in any verbal encounter. In most matters the role of silent listener comes the easiest, and perhaps in turn living alone for so long has lead to both this, and his demanding demeanour.

Regardless of it’s source, it is a problem for others to deal with, and one he could hardly be bothered to fix now.

Opinion of the World

Spiteful and alone, he spends a great deal of time repressing violent thoughts towards the masses.


HISTORY

Birthplace: Three hours walk outside Purskul, Amn
Hometown: Where Bhaal sends him, Abel goes. A Building is not but a place with more corners to become trapped in. The concept of a home is something best left in his past.

Family/Relationships

Father: Shafiq El Salim

Mother: Jamyll Ildriane

An untrusting loner by nature, Abel is the only surviving member of his family. His mother passed in child birth, haemorrhage of the brain the killer, his father the blunt instrument that dealt the damage prior, yet Abel found the blame for it even as a child.

He took great pleasure from the state in which he left his father. He very much doubts anyone would have cared anyway.

Friends

Every person he has known has betrayed, used or abused him, so the concept of Friendship is as alien as it is unsought for.

There are two types of people in the world, as far as he is concerned. Those who follow Bhaal, and those meant to be sacrificed for his return.

Enemies

When one hates the world, the world becomes ones worst adversary. While most escape his blade, there are three that never can. The Betrayer, the Usurper, and his Spawn.

Abel has dedicated his life in it’s entirety only to returning his master, and destroying those that have wronged him in act or deed.

OTHER INFORMATION

Religious preferences

Abel is an utterly devout, unwavering follower of Bhaal. It was Bhaal afterall who “Sheltered” him from his father. Bhaal again who saved him from the plague. Bhaal who coached him on how to destroy Shafiq. And Bhaal who has seen fit to pour an ounce of his divine essence into him.

To the end he serves the true Lord of Murder.

Other

OOC Info:

For all intents and purposes Abel is a Rogue/ Assassin. By the Game however he is a Warlock of some skill. He is built to reflect his life, and “job”, not for optimization or power. He has little in the way of offensive invocations, opting more-so for utility type enhancements.

His “Eldritch Blast” will come up frequently, but it is not seen as something from the Warlock theme. He is a Servant of Bhaal, and Bhaal has channelled what little power he can into his servant. Think Chosen Template, meets Cleric class.

He will never refer to, or think of himself as a warlock. The Blast is divine power, and his abilities are god given.

Editing.