Silius Meri | Mel Alt
Oct 15, 2015 22:19:01 GMT -6
Post by Silius Meri on Oct 15, 2015 22:19:01 GMT -6
Name: Silius Meri
Class: Seer
Age: 24
Born in: Etruria
Appearance: Silius is an exceptionally fetching young man, his beauty challenging man and woman alike. His milky skin is smooth and supple, boasting of few moments spent outside under the harsh rays of the sun. Enchanting aquamarine eyes are framed by heavy lashes, set just above a slightly pointed nose and a delicate brow. His fingers are slender and dainty, free of calluses born of a hard day's labor. The most noticeable of all however are his long silken strands of sunlight, the envy of any woman.
His clothing is exquisite without crossing over the border to gaudy. A white overcoat heavily embroidered with gold, black trousers, intricately embossed leather boots. His flowing tresses are always bound back by a blue ribbon.
Personality: Silius presents himself as the personification of piety, a smile on his face as he preaches the good of Elmine. However he cold and calculating, a spider awaiting prey to mistakenly wander into his web. He holds little empathy towards most people outside of himself, finding them to be no more than simple insects. Who has ever felt any remorse when they swat a fly?
Never in his life has he had to sincerely apologize for his actions, and never has he considered that there might be a situation where he would be required to. He finds the words hollow for one such as himself, why would he be sorry for something that he knew precisely what the outcome would be?
Surprisingly he loves nature, enjoying to spend some of his time simply sitting in the grass with his eyes closed and a nice breeze.
Story: Silius doesn't have much in the way of family, his mother a prostitute that abandoned him on the steps of an orphanage mere moments after his birth. Though one might expect the orphanage workers to replace his family, they were nothing of the sort. Money was tight, beds scarce and food even more so. It was simply a struggle for them all to survive, and the elderly priestess who managed it's affairs was more than aware of their troubles.
One of Silius's earliest memories was the elderly woman bent over the bed of a child who had come in just the night before, pillow pressed tightly down over her face until she screamed and struggled no more. The child had ghoulish gashes marring her face. Vile pink lines hastily stitched at the good will of the nearby village's healer. It had been her father apparently. Before drinking himself to death he had taken the liberty of cutting up her face with a broken bottle. However, the priestess had felt no sympathy for the girl. With a face so horridly scarred no one would ever desire her. She would stay there for years until she could no more, who would ever want to marry her? Maybe she would join a covenant to find some fulfillment in her pitiful life. But for the years building up to such a future the child would simply be a dead weight, costing far more money than she would ever be worth. At the end of the day no one would ever question a missing child without a family. Who was there to come looking?
It was from there that Silius learned the worth of a life. One like himself, a child who had hair like spun gold and a smile like sunshine, they stood far above the rest. Their lives were simply more important, they could accomplish more and people naturally flocked to them like sheep. Everyone else was simply unimportant. Unneeded. Fodder to fulfill their desires as they spun to greater and greater heights.
Silius was the centerpiece to the orphanage, the beautiful little boy that potential parents came to look at. The priestess doted upon him like none other. The child never was bothered to do chores, never needing to wear ratty clothes handed down from another child. He knew he was different than the other children, better, smarter. And soon spun his web of influence over his little kingdom, ruling it with an iron first.
It had started as a game to fuel his own amusement, Silius ordering the smallest children to scramble about in town to bring back a set amount of coin each week. Consequences for falling short were dire. The first offence simply a beating, the second a beating on top of being tossed down into a long parched well to spend the night.
The children begged on the streets at first, meager pickings on the slight chance of a stranger's pity. However as Silius's expectations and price rose they were forced to abandon innocent methods. Soon they banded together, leading travelers into dark alleyways to be stripped down to their underclothes by a cloud of desperate children.
There was a trail of money flowing right into the orphanage, and Silvie was taking more than advantage of it. As a child of ten he had all the sweets he could ever desire, and far more gold hidden under his floorboards than he knew what to do with. But nonetheless he enforced his vile tax upon the other children, gleefully watching from his throne as they scrambled about to fulfill his demands.
It only took the span of a few years for the town's infamy to spread, word of the vile gutter rats plaguing the tourists spreading far. It was hardly a complex matter for the church to trace the children back to the orphanage, and a little further investigation leading to the unmarked graves hidden in the underbrush. The matter of thievery was pushed aside for a far more pressing matter, a priestess of St. Elmine committing such atrocities. The elderly caretaker was excommunicated and executed, the children divided and sent off elsewhere.
The collapse of his kingdom caused no grief for Silius. Rather he saw it as an opportunity, an open door to something greater than simply ordering around snot nosed children. In fact he was the key witness at the priestess's trial, sobbing into his hands as he recounted an endless list of crimes the woman had committed. He told them of fear that prevented him from speaking up to anyone regarding the countless occasions of abuse. Most of all the child told them of his prayers, for the Priestess to find her way back to Elmine's graces, for the souls of the deceased, and the warm feeling that rose in his chest every time he reached out in prayer. Empty words were spoken, undetectable beneath the fat sobs Silius had broken into as he finished addressing the bishop overseeing the trial.
Afterwards he was ressured by the bishop that he most certainly received Elmine's forgiveness, however the tearful child shook his head in disagreement. Silius told him that he couldn't simply couldn't accept forgiveness until he himself felt in his heart that he truly felt satisfaction with his penance. He asked to join the church as a priest, to devote himself entirely to Elmine's grace.
The bishop welcomed him to the order with open arms, his heart softened by the story he had been fed by the tearful child.
With his infectious smile and overflowing charisma he quickly rose in popularity throughout the monastery where he had been sent for schooling. Silius was a beacon of piety, honeyed words of Elmine's praise flowing from his lips every time he spoke. He was the favorite student, the faithful friend, an aspiration for both his peers and his seniors. A thick web of influence was spun further and further with each interaction he had, the manipulative child growing into a puppet master of a young adult.
Those who crossed him were quietly disposed of, the blame for deaths or disappearances falling upon the next in line for his wrath. The few who knew the true nature buried beneath the shining face of holiness stayed silent for their own safety.
One priest, Mathias Tremble with the temper of a bull and the common sense of the same, grew determined to unmask his actions before the church. The hothead was known for a violent past that hallway whispers assumed was banditry, such a frightening individual was universally avoided. One day he bellowed his intentions publicly, jabbing a finger into Silius's chest with a brow furrowed in rage.
Silius reacted in fear and confusion of course, honeyed words slipping from his lips to elaborate the performance he gave for those who attempted to comfort him. His heart sang however at the declaration Mathias had given him, a ripple throughout his kingdom that he had been growing bored of. Instead of simply playing a one sided game of chess he had an opponent to outwit, and his fingers simply trembled in excitement at the thought.
A dashing hero against a villain, and he of course had to play the part.
Silius began to delve himself into forbidden magic, browsing through heretical books that he had saved from various burnings with great interest. It had originally been on whim to fulfill his amusement, however the young man was quickly sucked into the endless hunger for power the books did little to sate. Reading and practicing a few spells from tomes was simply not good enough after a few months, it didn't fulfill his new found desire. In the dead of night he would wander out to the woods wrapped in a black cloak and begin to experiment, putting his new found knowledge to the test.
It began with birds, but they were far too delicate and intricate for him to work on properly just yet. He upgraded to stray dogs. The man slicing open their chests and gripping their still beating hearts in his hands to pump full of power to simply see what would occur.
Only gods had the power over life and death. Silius knew he was destined to become one of them.
Mathias desperately scurried after him like a hound on a hunt, scrambling to find any sort of evidence that would damn the puppeteer of a man. Silius was delighted by the chase, keeping one step ahead and leaving teasing little clues about to tease the determined priest. A bird's wing, a sprig of nightshade, a dog's head left for him to find beneath his mattress. The way Mathias turned his steely gaze towards him after every incident gave him chills of excitement, and he grew ever more daring with his teasing tokens of affection.
Silius continued his nightly studies, his curiosity driving him to find new material for him to practice on and observe. He learned to take away life. How many seconds it took for a cat's cries to silence when thrust into a forge. How many breaths a man on his deathbed took after ingesting a hemlock brew. He understood how the heart thrust itself back and forth frantically to keep life with an empty chest.
He didn't simply want to take away life though, even a toddler with a butter knife had a chance to succeed at such a feat. Silius wanted to create it, to mold it how he saw fit. If he used the living to create the dead then naturally he would require the dead to create the living. It was simple to gather a few puppets and have them bring him the bodies that he desired, their silence fueled by fear.
By the light of a lantern he would work away at unraveling the secrets of the gods he so desired, leaving the bodies behind to be torn apart by animals and rouse little suspicion. However with his new found passions his grip of his little kingdom began to slip away little by little, Mathias the amusing little puppy growing into a vengeful terror snapping at his heels. The answers that he so desperately sought were well beyond his reach as long as he stayed perched like a rooster on a dung heap.
Word of Hargus's revival was the sign he had been awaiting. He was destined for godhood, and his path was laid out before him.
He approached the Bishop once again with a radiant smile, sitting with the elderly man and recounting the past thirteen years he had offered to the monastary. Silius went on further to discuss their conversation regarding his penance, tears filling his eyes as he recounted the orphanage. He flattered the Bishop, praised him for being the instrument Elmine had sent to bring him further into her embrace. Penance had been found in his years of humble servitude, and he knew in his heart that he was destined to spread Elmine's light and teaching throughout Elibe. Tearfully he bid the man a goodbye, kissing both his cheeks and asking for his blessing on his holy mission.
The Bishop, entranced by the piety of the selfless man before him gave him his holy blessing for his journey. Furthermore he even insisted on funding such a journey, pushing bags of gold upon Silius who weakly refused and pocketed it all.
Mathias's fury at hearing Silius was escaping from his grasp was known throughout the halls, the man bellowing profanities as he scrambled to find something, anything to keep the man under this thumb for just a little longer. He knew Silius would be well beyond his reach to enact justice once he left the monastery walls, and assumed that his journey was simply an elaborate plan to escape him. Little did Mathias know that Silius had no plans to leave their battle incomplete, in fact the man was already in checkmate and too focused on the details to notice the larger picture.
That night Mathias was awoken by a scream, Silius standing at the edge of his bed and peering down as he shot up with wide eyes. Silius grinned at him, delicately waving as Mathias sputtered first in confusion and then in searing rage. The enraged priest threw aside his blankets and chased after the blonde who screamed at the top of his lungs as he fled. Mathias bellowed over him, arms outstretched to grab him once he was close enough to the damned harpy.
Curious heads poked out of doors to investigate the disturbance as Silius screamed, the puppet master waiting until he had a sizable audience to hysterically announce that Mathias was attempting to kill him. Priests rushed out to restrain the wrathful man as Silius collapsed and sobbed, pitifully recounting the events of the past few minutes.
He explained that he had gone for one last visit to the Bishop to clear his mind before his holy journey and had found him lying in a pool of his own blood. Shocked and in a panic he had run to Brother Mathias's room, as he was the only one of the priests versed in combat, and could fight the murderer. However, just as he had arrived he saw a pile of bloodstained robes tossed off to the floor and screamed. Mathias had awoken at the noise and immediately lunged for him. Silius fearing for his life had fled with Mathias chasing after him in an attempt to silence his crime.
Mathias protested loudly at the ridiculous tale Silius had spun, denying it every way. There wasn't even any evidence! He didn't have any bloodstained robes on his floor! One of the priest left to inspect Mathias's room to see if the story was indeed true and returned with a bundle of bloodstained clothing. Silius met his nemesis's eyes and gave him a dark smile, Mathias silent as he inspected the faces staring down at him. He knew that at least one of them must have had a hand in helping Silius, however there was no guilt to detect.
With a cry of rage Mathias threw off the priests that had restrained him and fled into the night, cursing Silius with every breath he took.
The next morning Silius left on his mission, tearfully stating that the Bishop would have wanting him to leave rather than stay about to await his burial. Once again Silius left his kingdom behind, stepping forward along his path to godhood.
Class: Seer
Age: 24
Born in: Etruria
Appearance: Silius is an exceptionally fetching young man, his beauty challenging man and woman alike. His milky skin is smooth and supple, boasting of few moments spent outside under the harsh rays of the sun. Enchanting aquamarine eyes are framed by heavy lashes, set just above a slightly pointed nose and a delicate brow. His fingers are slender and dainty, free of calluses born of a hard day's labor. The most noticeable of all however are his long silken strands of sunlight, the envy of any woman.
His clothing is exquisite without crossing over the border to gaudy. A white overcoat heavily embroidered with gold, black trousers, intricately embossed leather boots. His flowing tresses are always bound back by a blue ribbon.
Personality: Silius presents himself as the personification of piety, a smile on his face as he preaches the good of Elmine. However he cold and calculating, a spider awaiting prey to mistakenly wander into his web. He holds little empathy towards most people outside of himself, finding them to be no more than simple insects. Who has ever felt any remorse when they swat a fly?
Never in his life has he had to sincerely apologize for his actions, and never has he considered that there might be a situation where he would be required to. He finds the words hollow for one such as himself, why would he be sorry for something that he knew precisely what the outcome would be?
Surprisingly he loves nature, enjoying to spend some of his time simply sitting in the grass with his eyes closed and a nice breeze.
Story: Silius doesn't have much in the way of family, his mother a prostitute that abandoned him on the steps of an orphanage mere moments after his birth. Though one might expect the orphanage workers to replace his family, they were nothing of the sort. Money was tight, beds scarce and food even more so. It was simply a struggle for them all to survive, and the elderly priestess who managed it's affairs was more than aware of their troubles.
One of Silius's earliest memories was the elderly woman bent over the bed of a child who had come in just the night before, pillow pressed tightly down over her face until she screamed and struggled no more. The child had ghoulish gashes marring her face. Vile pink lines hastily stitched at the good will of the nearby village's healer. It had been her father apparently. Before drinking himself to death he had taken the liberty of cutting up her face with a broken bottle. However, the priestess had felt no sympathy for the girl. With a face so horridly scarred no one would ever desire her. She would stay there for years until she could no more, who would ever want to marry her? Maybe she would join a covenant to find some fulfillment in her pitiful life. But for the years building up to such a future the child would simply be a dead weight, costing far more money than she would ever be worth. At the end of the day no one would ever question a missing child without a family. Who was there to come looking?
It was from there that Silius learned the worth of a life. One like himself, a child who had hair like spun gold and a smile like sunshine, they stood far above the rest. Their lives were simply more important, they could accomplish more and people naturally flocked to them like sheep. Everyone else was simply unimportant. Unneeded. Fodder to fulfill their desires as they spun to greater and greater heights.
Silius was the centerpiece to the orphanage, the beautiful little boy that potential parents came to look at. The priestess doted upon him like none other. The child never was bothered to do chores, never needing to wear ratty clothes handed down from another child. He knew he was different than the other children, better, smarter. And soon spun his web of influence over his little kingdom, ruling it with an iron first.
It had started as a game to fuel his own amusement, Silius ordering the smallest children to scramble about in town to bring back a set amount of coin each week. Consequences for falling short were dire. The first offence simply a beating, the second a beating on top of being tossed down into a long parched well to spend the night.
The children begged on the streets at first, meager pickings on the slight chance of a stranger's pity. However as Silius's expectations and price rose they were forced to abandon innocent methods. Soon they banded together, leading travelers into dark alleyways to be stripped down to their underclothes by a cloud of desperate children.
There was a trail of money flowing right into the orphanage, and Silvie was taking more than advantage of it. As a child of ten he had all the sweets he could ever desire, and far more gold hidden under his floorboards than he knew what to do with. But nonetheless he enforced his vile tax upon the other children, gleefully watching from his throne as they scrambled about to fulfill his demands.
It only took the span of a few years for the town's infamy to spread, word of the vile gutter rats plaguing the tourists spreading far. It was hardly a complex matter for the church to trace the children back to the orphanage, and a little further investigation leading to the unmarked graves hidden in the underbrush. The matter of thievery was pushed aside for a far more pressing matter, a priestess of St. Elmine committing such atrocities. The elderly caretaker was excommunicated and executed, the children divided and sent off elsewhere.
The collapse of his kingdom caused no grief for Silius. Rather he saw it as an opportunity, an open door to something greater than simply ordering around snot nosed children. In fact he was the key witness at the priestess's trial, sobbing into his hands as he recounted an endless list of crimes the woman had committed. He told them of fear that prevented him from speaking up to anyone regarding the countless occasions of abuse. Most of all the child told them of his prayers, for the Priestess to find her way back to Elmine's graces, for the souls of the deceased, and the warm feeling that rose in his chest every time he reached out in prayer. Empty words were spoken, undetectable beneath the fat sobs Silius had broken into as he finished addressing the bishop overseeing the trial.
Afterwards he was ressured by the bishop that he most certainly received Elmine's forgiveness, however the tearful child shook his head in disagreement. Silius told him that he couldn't simply couldn't accept forgiveness until he himself felt in his heart that he truly felt satisfaction with his penance. He asked to join the church as a priest, to devote himself entirely to Elmine's grace.
The bishop welcomed him to the order with open arms, his heart softened by the story he had been fed by the tearful child.
With his infectious smile and overflowing charisma he quickly rose in popularity throughout the monastery where he had been sent for schooling. Silius was a beacon of piety, honeyed words of Elmine's praise flowing from his lips every time he spoke. He was the favorite student, the faithful friend, an aspiration for both his peers and his seniors. A thick web of influence was spun further and further with each interaction he had, the manipulative child growing into a puppet master of a young adult.
Those who crossed him were quietly disposed of, the blame for deaths or disappearances falling upon the next in line for his wrath. The few who knew the true nature buried beneath the shining face of holiness stayed silent for their own safety.
One priest, Mathias Tremble with the temper of a bull and the common sense of the same, grew determined to unmask his actions before the church. The hothead was known for a violent past that hallway whispers assumed was banditry, such a frightening individual was universally avoided. One day he bellowed his intentions publicly, jabbing a finger into Silius's chest with a brow furrowed in rage.
Silius reacted in fear and confusion of course, honeyed words slipping from his lips to elaborate the performance he gave for those who attempted to comfort him. His heart sang however at the declaration Mathias had given him, a ripple throughout his kingdom that he had been growing bored of. Instead of simply playing a one sided game of chess he had an opponent to outwit, and his fingers simply trembled in excitement at the thought.
A dashing hero against a villain, and he of course had to play the part.
Silius began to delve himself into forbidden magic, browsing through heretical books that he had saved from various burnings with great interest. It had originally been on whim to fulfill his amusement, however the young man was quickly sucked into the endless hunger for power the books did little to sate. Reading and practicing a few spells from tomes was simply not good enough after a few months, it didn't fulfill his new found desire. In the dead of night he would wander out to the woods wrapped in a black cloak and begin to experiment, putting his new found knowledge to the test.
It began with birds, but they were far too delicate and intricate for him to work on properly just yet. He upgraded to stray dogs. The man slicing open their chests and gripping their still beating hearts in his hands to pump full of power to simply see what would occur.
Only gods had the power over life and death. Silius knew he was destined to become one of them.
Mathias desperately scurried after him like a hound on a hunt, scrambling to find any sort of evidence that would damn the puppeteer of a man. Silius was delighted by the chase, keeping one step ahead and leaving teasing little clues about to tease the determined priest. A bird's wing, a sprig of nightshade, a dog's head left for him to find beneath his mattress. The way Mathias turned his steely gaze towards him after every incident gave him chills of excitement, and he grew ever more daring with his teasing tokens of affection.
Silius continued his nightly studies, his curiosity driving him to find new material for him to practice on and observe. He learned to take away life. How many seconds it took for a cat's cries to silence when thrust into a forge. How many breaths a man on his deathbed took after ingesting a hemlock brew. He understood how the heart thrust itself back and forth frantically to keep life with an empty chest.
He didn't simply want to take away life though, even a toddler with a butter knife had a chance to succeed at such a feat. Silius wanted to create it, to mold it how he saw fit. If he used the living to create the dead then naturally he would require the dead to create the living. It was simple to gather a few puppets and have them bring him the bodies that he desired, their silence fueled by fear.
By the light of a lantern he would work away at unraveling the secrets of the gods he so desired, leaving the bodies behind to be torn apart by animals and rouse little suspicion. However with his new found passions his grip of his little kingdom began to slip away little by little, Mathias the amusing little puppy growing into a vengeful terror snapping at his heels. The answers that he so desperately sought were well beyond his reach as long as he stayed perched like a rooster on a dung heap.
Word of Hargus's revival was the sign he had been awaiting. He was destined for godhood, and his path was laid out before him.
He approached the Bishop once again with a radiant smile, sitting with the elderly man and recounting the past thirteen years he had offered to the monastary. Silius went on further to discuss their conversation regarding his penance, tears filling his eyes as he recounted the orphanage. He flattered the Bishop, praised him for being the instrument Elmine had sent to bring him further into her embrace. Penance had been found in his years of humble servitude, and he knew in his heart that he was destined to spread Elmine's light and teaching throughout Elibe. Tearfully he bid the man a goodbye, kissing both his cheeks and asking for his blessing on his holy mission.
The Bishop, entranced by the piety of the selfless man before him gave him his holy blessing for his journey. Furthermore he even insisted on funding such a journey, pushing bags of gold upon Silius who weakly refused and pocketed it all.
Mathias's fury at hearing Silius was escaping from his grasp was known throughout the halls, the man bellowing profanities as he scrambled to find something, anything to keep the man under this thumb for just a little longer. He knew Silius would be well beyond his reach to enact justice once he left the monastery walls, and assumed that his journey was simply an elaborate plan to escape him. Little did Mathias know that Silius had no plans to leave their battle incomplete, in fact the man was already in checkmate and too focused on the details to notice the larger picture.
That night Mathias was awoken by a scream, Silius standing at the edge of his bed and peering down as he shot up with wide eyes. Silius grinned at him, delicately waving as Mathias sputtered first in confusion and then in searing rage. The enraged priest threw aside his blankets and chased after the blonde who screamed at the top of his lungs as he fled. Mathias bellowed over him, arms outstretched to grab him once he was close enough to the damned harpy.
Curious heads poked out of doors to investigate the disturbance as Silius screamed, the puppet master waiting until he had a sizable audience to hysterically announce that Mathias was attempting to kill him. Priests rushed out to restrain the wrathful man as Silius collapsed and sobbed, pitifully recounting the events of the past few minutes.
He explained that he had gone for one last visit to the Bishop to clear his mind before his holy journey and had found him lying in a pool of his own blood. Shocked and in a panic he had run to Brother Mathias's room, as he was the only one of the priests versed in combat, and could fight the murderer. However, just as he had arrived he saw a pile of bloodstained robes tossed off to the floor and screamed. Mathias had awoken at the noise and immediately lunged for him. Silius fearing for his life had fled with Mathias chasing after him in an attempt to silence his crime.
Mathias protested loudly at the ridiculous tale Silius had spun, denying it every way. There wasn't even any evidence! He didn't have any bloodstained robes on his floor! One of the priest left to inspect Mathias's room to see if the story was indeed true and returned with a bundle of bloodstained clothing. Silius met his nemesis's eyes and gave him a dark smile, Mathias silent as he inspected the faces staring down at him. He knew that at least one of them must have had a hand in helping Silius, however there was no guilt to detect.
With a cry of rage Mathias threw off the priests that had restrained him and fled into the night, cursing Silius with every breath he took.
The next morning Silius left on his mission, tearfully stating that the Bishop would have wanting him to leave rather than stay about to await his burial. Once again Silius left his kingdom behind, stepping forward along his path to godhood.
