Name: Benedin Skyrazer
Gender: Male
Race: Avariel
Age: He is over 5000 years old
Profession: Currently, explorer and magical researcher
Languages: Common, Elven
Accent: He has a winey, somewhat haughty way of speaking, and husky with age
Physical Information
Height: 5'9''
Weight: 108lbs
Body build: Willowy
Skin type: Very fair skin
Hair style: He has long white-blond hair
Eyes: blue
Notable: His right arm and hand is made of a silvery metal (mithril) It is possessed with a strength that is much beyond his frail body. It moves normally just like a real arm and hand, and he uses it for handshakes. He often leans on it at table for support
Mental Information
Alignment: Chaotic Good (leans to good)
Philosophy: Benedin is interested in understanding magic and its workings. He has learned that magic works differently in different worlds, and that has made him into something of a relativist, but he is still interested in learning about magic in each plane and prime world. He has a love of truth, even if he feels that love is a romantic one, and that truth depends on the world you're in.
Deity/Beliefs: Benedin fell in love with Gwynharwyf the barbarian consort to the Queen of the Court of Stars in her home plane. She grants him spells...and other things.
Personality:
Benedin is a very charismatic Avariel. This charisma mainly comes out as an expression of an extremely strong soul. His personality has force, and that is one of haughtiness, and quickness to anger. He once blew up a fortress with a massive fireball because one of the guards called his mother a Harpy. Despite this behavior, he strongly leans toward good in general and is a trustworthy friend who will stay with you in times of extreme danger.
He is obsessed with prolonging his life with magical means.
Backstory
After many epic adventures Benedin retired and built a mage school and lived there with his wife (whom he still loves). He became very old and discovered that he could prolong his life if he lived in the elven graveyard filled with wisps by feeding of the ambient energy there. He passed ages there until he was over 5000 years old, and was almost overtaken by death, when the Queen of Stars herself took pity on him and opened a portal to her demi-plane. There, time does not pass and he was able to live, albeit decrepit as he was. He spent his days from time out of mind, drinking from the fountain of beauty until its energies improved his appearance permanently and replenished his soul, but he is still very, very old. His knowledge of magic was useless on this plane, because magic worked totally differently on his home world. It was here that he met Gwynharwyf, the beautiful, wild Eldadrin barbarian. His love for her lasted millenia, but for some reason Benedin eventually left the Court of Stars, and has spent a few years planeswalking now. How he has learned to prolong his life outside the Court of Stars is unknown...
Weaknesses: Benedin can be overcome with anger if provoked too much, even though his age has tempered this weakness. His constitution is quite depleted. He flies a bit shakily but still quickly. He has a weakness in his love of (magical)truth and women. And his obsession and determination for life is something he will sacrifice for.
Benedin Skyrazer
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*Torfang
- Posts: 2
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Benedin slit his wrist, his lips tightening slightly at the pain, and then he watched with intent concentration as the blood spilled into a vial. When it was full he cast a minor cure spell to heal the wound. Dizzily he turned to his laboratory—the standard array of vials with bubbling liquid connected with tubes—and poured the vial of blood into a funnel at one end.
About an hour later he stood over what he had made. A bottle of brownish gold liquid that bubbled and foamed. He smiled a moment with his eyes closed, and then drank deeply until the bottle was empty. He felt life and youth spread from his stomach up his torso and into his head and limbs.
"It seems my luck keeps in me the game a bit longer" he thought, still dizzy from the loss of blood. "But I can't recover the magic in my blood fast enough, and the dizziness grows worse."
He sat down finally on the bed nearby. He was at the inn at the Bazaar in Sigil. He had paid for a room for the next year and his small room doubled as a bedroom and a potion lab.
His mind wandered over ages of memories beyond reckoning. The Court of Stars and the Queen's endless social graces and whims made him yawn. "This is more fun!" He assured himself... At his age it was roughing it though, he was used to the bodily ease of court life. Ever since he discovered this magical concoction his slightly younger body made a return of wanderlust. And of course there had been the "incident". No, there was no going back. He turned to his current plight.
"If others knew of this secret, my blood would fetch a good price on the market. Dragons blood as old as I am is a rare commodity... But I'd rather not have it known I'm in the market for blood from the oldest of dragons. What luck that I discovered it faintly flows in my veins, but how to get more... a great wyrm does not give away his blood... and slaying one..."
Benedin thought of long ago on his prime world. He slew a mighty dragon before, on a floating island of rock high in the sky. He was a brash young adventurer then, not knowing the value of his own life that he toyed with. Age had brought more caution, maybe too much. "Dragon slaying is an adventurer's job... I haven't adventured for—" He quickly lost count of years as he tried to recall. He would need money and supplies. Luckily, the bazaar was just the place to peddle some potions. He also needed top notch mercenaries who wouldn't ask questions about his lab equipment. It was imperative that the blood be fresh.
About an hour later he stood over what he had made. A bottle of brownish gold liquid that bubbled and foamed. He smiled a moment with his eyes closed, and then drank deeply until the bottle was empty. He felt life and youth spread from his stomach up his torso and into his head and limbs.
"It seems my luck keeps in me the game a bit longer" he thought, still dizzy from the loss of blood. "But I can't recover the magic in my blood fast enough, and the dizziness grows worse."
He sat down finally on the bed nearby. He was at the inn at the Bazaar in Sigil. He had paid for a room for the next year and his small room doubled as a bedroom and a potion lab.
His mind wandered over ages of memories beyond reckoning. The Court of Stars and the Queen's endless social graces and whims made him yawn. "This is more fun!" He assured himself... At his age it was roughing it though, he was used to the bodily ease of court life. Ever since he discovered this magical concoction his slightly younger body made a return of wanderlust. And of course there had been the "incident". No, there was no going back. He turned to his current plight.
"If others knew of this secret, my blood would fetch a good price on the market. Dragons blood as old as I am is a rare commodity... But I'd rather not have it known I'm in the market for blood from the oldest of dragons. What luck that I discovered it faintly flows in my veins, but how to get more... a great wyrm does not give away his blood... and slaying one..."
Benedin thought of long ago on his prime world. He slew a mighty dragon before, on a floating island of rock high in the sky. He was a brash young adventurer then, not knowing the value of his own life that he toyed with. Age had brought more caution, maybe too much. "Dragon slaying is an adventurer's job... I haven't adventured for—" He quickly lost count of years as he tried to recall. He would need money and supplies. Luckily, the bazaar was just the place to peddle some potions. He also needed top notch mercenaries who wouldn't ask questions about his lab equipment. It was imperative that the blood be fresh.