Difference between revisions of "Al-Ashrad"
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| + | '''Sobriquet:''' Amr of Alamut | ||
| − | + | '''Appearance:''' There is an aura of power to al-Ashrad that is less seen than felt, a slight stirring in the air around him, an invisible force that seems barely contained within his being, dormant only because he wishes it to be so. His skin is pale like ivory, unmarred by a thousand duels with demons and demon-touched Tremere. His appearance is an anomaly among the dark-skinned Assamites. A diamond replacement rumored to give the Amr sight beyond sight occupies the empty socket of his left eye. His right eye is a cool-burning blue, the color of the daylight desert skies that he has not gazed upon for centuries. Al-Ashrad's hair and beard were iron-gray before his Embrace, though he now shaves them nightly. He prefers to garb himself in simple white robes, loose and flowing and sewn with myriad pockets that contain innumerable components for his spells. The left arm of these robes remains pinned back, a continual reminder of Haqim's justice. AI-Ashrad's voice is deep and resonant, instantly commanding yet always calm and understated. The Amr moves with the ease of youth, and he has grown accustomed to compensating for the lack of his arm by using his magics to perform common tasks, an act that distresses many visitors to his laboratories who are unused to flasks leaping from tables to pour themselves. | |
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| − | + | '''Behavior:''' Although the rest of the Children of Haqim think you are the greatest magician in the world, you know differently, and the shame of the deception you are forced to continue gnaws at you like a demon chained within your belly. Your magics are mighty, true, but they are nothing compared to the might of your sire, he whose hand guided yours in breaking the Curse. You know better than any other what his awakening means, and the thought of what is to come fills your nights with distraction and your daytime dreams with images of blood-soaked ground. Nevertheless, you are the Amr, and you will continue to do your duty to the Blood to the last - even if that means acting in defiance of what most of the clan feels is the "true path." Now that the Curse is broken, your foremost hope is that you and your magi - and, perhaps, your allies among the scholars - can somehow rein in the warriors before they bring on a second war, one that you cannot win. You have never wholly accepted the monomaniacal ways of the Path of Blood, believing instead that the role of the Children is to counsel from a position of strength rather than to blaze a trail of ashes across the world. | |
| − | + | '''History:''' | |
| − | + | '''Recent Events:''' | |
Revision as of 22:31, 15 January 2015
Sobriquet: Amr of Alamut
Appearance: There is an aura of power to al-Ashrad that is less seen than felt, a slight stirring in the air around him, an invisible force that seems barely contained within his being, dormant only because he wishes it to be so. His skin is pale like ivory, unmarred by a thousand duels with demons and demon-touched Tremere. His appearance is an anomaly among the dark-skinned Assamites. A diamond replacement rumored to give the Amr sight beyond sight occupies the empty socket of his left eye. His right eye is a cool-burning blue, the color of the daylight desert skies that he has not gazed upon for centuries. Al-Ashrad's hair and beard were iron-gray before his Embrace, though he now shaves them nightly. He prefers to garb himself in simple white robes, loose and flowing and sewn with myriad pockets that contain innumerable components for his spells. The left arm of these robes remains pinned back, a continual reminder of Haqim's justice. AI-Ashrad's voice is deep and resonant, instantly commanding yet always calm and understated. The Amr moves with the ease of youth, and he has grown accustomed to compensating for the lack of his arm by using his magics to perform common tasks, an act that distresses many visitors to his laboratories who are unused to flasks leaping from tables to pour themselves.
Behavior: Although the rest of the Children of Haqim think you are the greatest magician in the world, you know differently, and the shame of the deception you are forced to continue gnaws at you like a demon chained within your belly. Your magics are mighty, true, but they are nothing compared to the might of your sire, he whose hand guided yours in breaking the Curse. You know better than any other what his awakening means, and the thought of what is to come fills your nights with distraction and your daytime dreams with images of blood-soaked ground. Nevertheless, you are the Amr, and you will continue to do your duty to the Blood to the last - even if that means acting in defiance of what most of the clan feels is the "true path." Now that the Curse is broken, your foremost hope is that you and your magi - and, perhaps, your allies among the scholars - can somehow rein in the warriors before they bring on a second war, one that you cannot win. You have never wholly accepted the monomaniacal ways of the Path of Blood, believing instead that the role of the Children is to counsel from a position of strength rather than to blaze a trail of ashes across the world.
History:
Recent Events:
