Basic Information
Name Rain Jarlais
Aliases None
Race Aasmir
Age 112, Looks like he is in his 20's
Profession Sorcerer
Languages Common, Elven
Physical Information
Height 6'2
Weight 190
Body Slim Medium build, leaning to slender
Skin Type Smooth and unblemished, unused to the rigors of hard physical labor
No scars or tattoos.
Coloring
Hair Black
Eyes Red, the only hints at his draconic bloodline
Skin Dark brown
Mental Information
Alignment Lawful Evil
Philosophy The ends justify the means, only the strong survive, and those with power are the only ones fit to wield it.
Deity/Belief A former Sharran whose divine link was severed upon arriving in Sigil, Rain follows no god, giving only homage to Shar in his heart
Personality
Cleanliness Rain takes meticulous care in making sure that his gear and himself are always clean and well groomed
Charming He has a golden tongue and strives to conduct himself as a proper gentlemen no matter the circumstances
Attracted to Power He is attracted to those with power considering he wields a large amount naturally. He finds the allure of the arcane magic simply irresistible
Role player He believes everything has a place and he firmly knows his. He is a sorcerer and will never engage in physical confrontations and will settle scores with his arcane might. Likewise everyone has a role to fill, destined by the very Gods themselves it's only a matter of reminding those with "lower stations" their rightful place
Arrogance Considering his beginnings, he considers few individuals his equal, save for Linda Oerthgrave and Shamus Idione. He holds his fellow mages, sorcerers, and priests in high regards and considers all else to be considerably lesser
Additional Information
Gear: Always wears red robes, a brown cap, and uses one of two staves
Jewelry: none though his ears are pierced
Habbits/hobbies: Rain has spent decades practicing painting and drawing, preferring to work on canvas. His pieces of art can considered top notch commanding praise as well as top dollar.
General Health:In perfect health.
Favorite Drink: Prefers wine, but will drink ale if he is the mood. Has no favorite wine, but prefers the darker colored older vintages.
Weaknesses: Loner. He prefers to be alone even wandering off right after a hunt or trip to the planes is done. This personality trait tends to make him over look his close friends and makes him tackles problems without the aid of others.
Rain Jarlais
-
*Cenpuppie
- Posts: 207
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Spell after spell was hurled at the undead horde as it descended in the Khaldearen Guild Halls. Focusing on his divine link with his Dark Lady, he summoned his trusted Succubus and instructs her to watch his back. His other summoned ally..the Greater Balrog holds the door, his bulk blocking the passage in the hallway. As the Balrog slays the undead with demonic glee, two small sized undead slip past it only to be be charred to a crisp as Rain let's loose a breath of own dragon fire.
He suddenly staggers and almost falls. The magical shielding he supported around the lower levels of the Guild Hall have been breached and no doubt, the Kaarkosan armies pour in. Near exhaustion and nearly fainting, his succubus easily holds him upright and the two take flight to the uppermost level of the tower, where the device is stored. Aided by the succubus, he places his hand on a crystal and is instantly teleported to the inner circle.
Once inside and still practically being carried by his own minion he gives a nod to the remaining mages as the device is ready to be activated. Seeing Shamus, he disengages himself from his trusted ally and dismisses her back to her infernal plane. Taking his own place at the device, he feeds all of mystical energy into the device and it starts to hum. He maintains consciousness through pure strength of will as he fills it drain away his remaining strength. Just as he starts to loose focus, his eyelids grow heavy and he cannot keep them open any longer..he gives a final plea to Shar, his loving and ever eternal Shar..then everything explodes and nothing but dazzling colors fill his vision.
Rain awakes in the gutter in Sigil. He stands and overcome by a bout of temporary dizziness. He looks around and remembers his last moments on a doomed world. He tries to call upon his succubus but is thwarted. His divine link to Shar has been severed. He quickly takes stock of his situation and is pained to see that is outfitted as a common beggar. He then summons his familiar, expecting to see his loving fairy, but is dismayed to see..a rabbit! He then goes to cast his most power spell..time stop.
He tries in vain for 10 more minutes to recall it's workings to no avail, then screams in rage! His mystical link to his loved goddess gone, his spells stripped, even his fairy is gone. Rain knows that he must claw his way to the top once more, but clenches his fist and nods in grim determination.
He will claw his way to his former station, maybe even higher. The ends justify the means...
He suddenly staggers and almost falls. The magical shielding he supported around the lower levels of the Guild Hall have been breached and no doubt, the Kaarkosan armies pour in. Near exhaustion and nearly fainting, his succubus easily holds him upright and the two take flight to the uppermost level of the tower, where the device is stored. Aided by the succubus, he places his hand on a crystal and is instantly teleported to the inner circle.
Once inside and still practically being carried by his own minion he gives a nod to the remaining mages as the device is ready to be activated. Seeing Shamus, he disengages himself from his trusted ally and dismisses her back to her infernal plane. Taking his own place at the device, he feeds all of mystical energy into the device and it starts to hum. He maintains consciousness through pure strength of will as he fills it drain away his remaining strength. Just as he starts to loose focus, his eyelids grow heavy and he cannot keep them open any longer..he gives a final plea to Shar, his loving and ever eternal Shar..then everything explodes and nothing but dazzling colors fill his vision.
Rain awakes in the gutter in Sigil. He stands and overcome by a bout of temporary dizziness. He looks around and remembers his last moments on a doomed world. He tries to call upon his succubus but is thwarted. His divine link to Shar has been severed. He quickly takes stock of his situation and is pained to see that is outfitted as a common beggar. He then summons his familiar, expecting to see his loving fairy, but is dismayed to see..a rabbit! He then goes to cast his most power spell..time stop.
He tries in vain for 10 more minutes to recall it's workings to no avail, then screams in rage! His mystical link to his loved goddess gone, his spells stripped, even his fairy is gone. Rain knows that he must claw his way to the top once more, but clenches his fist and nods in grim determination.
He will claw his way to his former station, maybe even higher. The ends justify the means...
-
*Cenpuppie
- Posts: 207
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Rain stand in the Abyss, in the middle of a crowd of demons and devils as they carry out there eternal and unending war. Safely within the confines of the partial ethereal, he snarls in frustration upon stepping out, blasting demons and devils alike with his arsenal.
He casts..snarls..and screams in frustration, beckoning the hordes to overcome his defense. But his depth of magical might is deep and his hatred burns bright, as his eyes glow bright red mimicking the light given off by the permeation of the evil energies in this plane. Soon the lesser demons scatter, leaving only the stronger demons to face his wrath. Stepping up to the challenge, he lets loose his most destruction spells and dominates a Cornugon..only to blast it in the back as it fight the other pawns.
After seemingly forever he slumps in exhaustion, sweating dripping like a torrent from his face..his delicate robes drenched in perspiration. Roaring in fury, he summons his Balor ally and motions to the endless horde. Instead of screaming out it's frustration, the balor looks at Rain with a wide grin, and let's loose a demonic chuckle. Rain straightens himself summoning his remaining grace and gazes deep into the eyes of balor and questions it.."Do you dare mock me?". The Balor merely shrugs and inclines it's head..all the respect it i willing to give before turning and happily slaying his comrades..and enemies.
Rain let's loose a viciously evil grin, his handsome countenance twisted in that very moment and roars once again depleting the rest of his magical energy. As he blasts, casts, and destroys, he feels any warmth contained in his heart being replaced by the icy embrace of anger and hate. The Balor pauses a moment and glances back at his summoner, offering a nod in understanding.
Rain and his Balor ally have a long history, his name whispered to him in his dreams on a distant world, during a different time, from a goddess whose strength knew no bounds. Rain storms in the Abyss, him and his ally taking delight in the vanquish of the lesser demons.
Nodding grimly and dismissing his own exhaustion he continues further in the Abyss in the...alone.
He casts..snarls..and screams in frustration, beckoning the hordes to overcome his defense. But his depth of magical might is deep and his hatred burns bright, as his eyes glow bright red mimicking the light given off by the permeation of the evil energies in this plane. Soon the lesser demons scatter, leaving only the stronger demons to face his wrath. Stepping up to the challenge, he lets loose his most destruction spells and dominates a Cornugon..only to blast it in the back as it fight the other pawns.
After seemingly forever he slumps in exhaustion, sweating dripping like a torrent from his face..his delicate robes drenched in perspiration. Roaring in fury, he summons his Balor ally and motions to the endless horde. Instead of screaming out it's frustration, the balor looks at Rain with a wide grin, and let's loose a demonic chuckle. Rain straightens himself summoning his remaining grace and gazes deep into the eyes of balor and questions it.."Do you dare mock me?". The Balor merely shrugs and inclines it's head..all the respect it i willing to give before turning and happily slaying his comrades..and enemies.
Rain let's loose a viciously evil grin, his handsome countenance twisted in that very moment and roars once again depleting the rest of his magical energy. As he blasts, casts, and destroys, he feels any warmth contained in his heart being replaced by the icy embrace of anger and hate. The Balor pauses a moment and glances back at his summoner, offering a nod in understanding.
Rain and his Balor ally have a long history, his name whispered to him in his dreams on a distant world, during a different time, from a goddess whose strength knew no bounds. Rain storms in the Abyss, him and his ally taking delight in the vanquish of the lesser demons.
Nodding grimly and dismissing his own exhaustion he continues further in the Abyss in the...alone.
-
*Cenpuppie
- Posts: 207
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
After returning to his room, Rain meticulously cleans himself. Afterwards he reads a tome on the lore of Sigil. Finally finding what he seeks he reads to himself, then feels pure elation. His spells, even though arcane do not work nor are cast as normal spells. With each casting, he feels a familiar pull, a tug. Not quite trusting his instincts, he brushed it off till he could obtain the proper information, information that is currently looking at him in the face.
Shar has a disdain for Mystra. Unknown to him, here she created a special magic for her followers, The Shadow Weave. Nodding in satisfaction he closes the book and clenches his fist in success. His adoration for his goddess has payed off, for she has not left him as he first believed.
Shar has a disdain for Mystra. Unknown to him, here she created a special magic for her followers, The Shadow Weave. Nodding in satisfaction he closes the book and clenches his fist in success. His adoration for his goddess has payed off, for she has not left him as he first believed.
-
*Cenpuppie
- Posts: 207
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Rain walks around casting small cantrips that light candles in his new home. This new villa he recently purchased came at a great expense. The derelict home was on the market for some time as the widow was selling it at an inflated cost.
Rain however, loved the view it provided and it contained extra rooms as well as having a second floor where the bedrooms are located. After buying the house, paying for furniture and repairs left him flat broke, and he even didn't posses enough jink to buy a easel! Mumbling while walking around his new home, he inspects every square inch with a critical eye as well as using a few spells to make sure that no scrying or eavesdropping magics are still present.
After long hours, his inspection is completed taking him into the late hours of the night. Nodding in satisfaction he withdraws into his master bedroom making mental notes of what is needed. He will need to retro fit a room to accommodate his artistic hobby, the only room filled with long windows. And he muses to himself, he will need a servant to maintain the dwelling. Flat broke, he sees many long days and nights bringing death and destruction to whatever plane he visit. And he will not allow his newly purchased house to degrade into the same state he bought it.
Drifting off to sleep, his lips curl into a faint smile. It may not be home..but this is as close as it can get.
Rain however, loved the view it provided and it contained extra rooms as well as having a second floor where the bedrooms are located. After buying the house, paying for furniture and repairs left him flat broke, and he even didn't posses enough jink to buy a easel! Mumbling while walking around his new home, he inspects every square inch with a critical eye as well as using a few spells to make sure that no scrying or eavesdropping magics are still present.
After long hours, his inspection is completed taking him into the late hours of the night. Nodding in satisfaction he withdraws into his master bedroom making mental notes of what is needed. He will need to retro fit a room to accommodate his artistic hobby, the only room filled with long windows. And he muses to himself, he will need a servant to maintain the dwelling. Flat broke, he sees many long days and nights bringing death and destruction to whatever plane he visit. And he will not allow his newly purchased house to degrade into the same state he bought it.
Drifting off to sleep, his lips curl into a faint smile. It may not be home..but this is as close as it can get.
-
*Cenpuppie
- Posts: 207
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Rain stands in his room, covered in paint. His canvas looks back at him, hauntingly. The stunning vista he saw along with Linda, Mir, and Marx is turning out to be a stunning piece of artwork! It has taken him days to hunt down the appropriate colors for the blues as well as the whites. He silently gives thanks to perhaps his new "friend", the painter he has befriended in the Lady's Ward, the only besides the entrance up the stairs working on canvas himself. Rain shakes his head chuckling to himself..canvas he feels is the only backdrop to work upon. The other mediums he finds to be too messy and amateurish, a stark contrast too he realizes, knowing he is covered in various shades of blue, white, and brown.
Just yesterday, he realized that the two talked the night speaking of various color combinations and particularly greens to rightfully simulate the plants in the Beastlands. Truly, he muses, he is a real friend as each other consult each other in their craft, perfecting it to their own personal satisfaction.
Suddenly and not knowing why he broods. Ever since he briefly lost consciousness in the bazaar, his dreams have been haunting. The dreams always end the same..he sees what is obvious to himself..a fallen angel perhaps..leading an organized army of Ta'nari into battle against others shadowy figures, whose figures are nothing but darkness and swirls. Unable to move, unable to speak he sees the angel descend into the chaos, reaping his enemies. And every time, at the battle's end, the angel says a word..his name. And the angel walks upon him, his blade held high, waiting to cut him down. But instead, the angel lays a hand a comforting hand on his shoulder. It speaks a word and Rain see's the same blood red eyes, he looks up at the angel and sees himself. Then he awakes..covered in sweat.
Rain gives a tired sigh. Painting is the only way he finds to rejuvenate himself, as he spends most of his time alone..or in among the minions of the abyss. The time alone has been both a boon and a curse. If he isn't talking with fellow artists around the city..he walks around lost in thought..brooding.
He conferred with his Ally, even dismissing it and summoning his subordinate...both times scowling in disgust. Rain spent many weeks in the bowels of the Abyss, talking with the denizens with his Ally present. All conversations have gone the same direction, they alluded to something...moving in the abyss. He sighs and dips his brush in one the darker blues, touching up the skyline for his canvas. A few more days and this master piece will be completed.
Suddenly realizing his thirst, Rain then drops the ink brush into a jar of water and walks over to a counter, drinking some refreshing wine..and broods once again. Someone is dominating the Balors in the abyss..he knows that. He even managed to bend the will of the ferocious Balor atop the mountain! His control last merely minutes, however he is sure someone is playing a hand in the struggle to come.
Feeling like he earned himself a break, Rain walks to his wash room and jumps into his awaiting hot bath. He will wash himself clean..and then speak with others. His heritage is starting to trouble him.
He starts to drift to sleep in the calming hot water, dreaming about the blood that courses through his veins.
Just yesterday, he realized that the two talked the night speaking of various color combinations and particularly greens to rightfully simulate the plants in the Beastlands. Truly, he muses, he is a real friend as each other consult each other in their craft, perfecting it to their own personal satisfaction.
Suddenly and not knowing why he broods. Ever since he briefly lost consciousness in the bazaar, his dreams have been haunting. The dreams always end the same..he sees what is obvious to himself..a fallen angel perhaps..leading an organized army of Ta'nari into battle against others shadowy figures, whose figures are nothing but darkness and swirls. Unable to move, unable to speak he sees the angel descend into the chaos, reaping his enemies. And every time, at the battle's end, the angel says a word..his name. And the angel walks upon him, his blade held high, waiting to cut him down. But instead, the angel lays a hand a comforting hand on his shoulder. It speaks a word and Rain see's the same blood red eyes, he looks up at the angel and sees himself. Then he awakes..covered in sweat.
Rain gives a tired sigh. Painting is the only way he finds to rejuvenate himself, as he spends most of his time alone..or in among the minions of the abyss. The time alone has been both a boon and a curse. If he isn't talking with fellow artists around the city..he walks around lost in thought..brooding.
He conferred with his Ally, even dismissing it and summoning his subordinate...both times scowling in disgust. Rain spent many weeks in the bowels of the Abyss, talking with the denizens with his Ally present. All conversations have gone the same direction, they alluded to something...moving in the abyss. He sighs and dips his brush in one the darker blues, touching up the skyline for his canvas. A few more days and this master piece will be completed.
Suddenly realizing his thirst, Rain then drops the ink brush into a jar of water and walks over to a counter, drinking some refreshing wine..and broods once again. Someone is dominating the Balors in the abyss..he knows that. He even managed to bend the will of the ferocious Balor atop the mountain! His control last merely minutes, however he is sure someone is playing a hand in the struggle to come.
Feeling like he earned himself a break, Rain walks to his wash room and jumps into his awaiting hot bath. He will wash himself clean..and then speak with others. His heritage is starting to trouble him.
He starts to drift to sleep in the calming hot water, dreaming about the blood that courses through his veins.
-
*Cenpuppie
- Posts: 207
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Rain stands in the middle of his art studio with a look of total confusion on his face. The light shining from the morning sun illuminated his room nicely, but semantics was far off his mind. If it wasn't for the fact that his half naked body was covered in paint, he would have suspected sabotage.
His canvas of the city skyline was thrown face down on the floor. The paint would have originally needed a little more than a week to dry, he knew it was ruined. However what stood in it's place..left him breathless. With only various shades of red and black, it looked like a battle scene within the abyss a familiar scene. With shadowy figures battling one another, he recognized it as one from his reoccurring dreams. I heard of sleep walking..but sleep painting! he roars in fury to himself. His masterpiece ruined and a mockery of his subconscious stares at him, defiant.
Uttering a common cantrip, he points a finger and watches as the painting is consumed in a small flame. When it is finally reduced to ashes, he clucks his tongue and pours some water on the ashes, from a decanter he uses to keep his brushes from drying out, then finally surveys the rest of his room. No other painting or even the furniture have been touched.
His eyes finally drift to his mixing table, were he keeps his precious colors..and screams in pure fury! He will not be surprised if the neighbors call the Harmonium after this outburst as he runs over to the table. All of his colors..are gone. The blues, the whites, and the expensive greens, all gone! Shaking, he tries to calm himself and feels a bout of weakness which brings him down is knees. He sunk over 10,000 jink for his collection, all gone in one night. In it's place are the different tones of red and black, the colors used on the burnt canvas. He stays still, focusing his will to overcome his rage, his frustration, his naivety.
After some time on the ground, he never moved from that position, he rises. He walks to his wash room, strips and begins to wash himself, with the leftover clean water from last nights bath. The paint is dry and requires much scrubbing.
At nightfall, Rain emerges from his villa. Feeling fully refreshed, but still deeply troubled he makes his way to the Styx Oarsman. His arrogance has already cost him dearly, for he would normally deal with a situation like this, alone. But his purse will be drained by buying new colors and his master piece is ruined, which he planned on selling for a good commission. He needs answers, and he needs them now.
Not paying attention while he was brooding, he walks to the lower ward in minutes. However he skids to a halt and comes out of his brooding state when he sees the Styx Oarsman. There is a line for entrance, and a long line. With nothing else to do, Rain stands in line and gives a sigh, which attracts the attention of the thug in front of him, who merely gives him a toothless before turning back around. After 3 hours of waiting he gives up and walks off.
Wandering the streets of Sigil late at night, Rain broods once again.
His canvas of the city skyline was thrown face down on the floor. The paint would have originally needed a little more than a week to dry, he knew it was ruined. However what stood in it's place..left him breathless. With only various shades of red and black, it looked like a battle scene within the abyss a familiar scene. With shadowy figures battling one another, he recognized it as one from his reoccurring dreams. I heard of sleep walking..but sleep painting! he roars in fury to himself. His masterpiece ruined and a mockery of his subconscious stares at him, defiant.
Uttering a common cantrip, he points a finger and watches as the painting is consumed in a small flame. When it is finally reduced to ashes, he clucks his tongue and pours some water on the ashes, from a decanter he uses to keep his brushes from drying out, then finally surveys the rest of his room. No other painting or even the furniture have been touched.
His eyes finally drift to his mixing table, were he keeps his precious colors..and screams in pure fury! He will not be surprised if the neighbors call the Harmonium after this outburst as he runs over to the table. All of his colors..are gone. The blues, the whites, and the expensive greens, all gone! Shaking, he tries to calm himself and feels a bout of weakness which brings him down is knees. He sunk over 10,000 jink for his collection, all gone in one night. In it's place are the different tones of red and black, the colors used on the burnt canvas. He stays still, focusing his will to overcome his rage, his frustration, his naivety.
After some time on the ground, he never moved from that position, he rises. He walks to his wash room, strips and begins to wash himself, with the leftover clean water from last nights bath. The paint is dry and requires much scrubbing.
At nightfall, Rain emerges from his villa. Feeling fully refreshed, but still deeply troubled he makes his way to the Styx Oarsman. His arrogance has already cost him dearly, for he would normally deal with a situation like this, alone. But his purse will be drained by buying new colors and his master piece is ruined, which he planned on selling for a good commission. He needs answers, and he needs them now.
Not paying attention while he was brooding, he walks to the lower ward in minutes. However he skids to a halt and comes out of his brooding state when he sees the Styx Oarsman. There is a line for entrance, and a long line. With nothing else to do, Rain stands in line and gives a sigh, which attracts the attention of the thug in front of him, who merely gives him a toothless before turning back around. After 3 hours of waiting he gives up and walks off.
Wandering the streets of Sigil late at night, Rain broods once again.