Emaxus is currently undergoing a large entry into a new Age (and a large revision of the current Age). Consider this an active construction zone: things are moving around, getting changed, and the world's being reorganized. Apologies for the inconvenience!
- Brian

Vulanar

Vulanar is known among several societies of Drumian as a sort of dark knight. With powers from Hell and martial prowess rarely seen on the frontiers, he has formed an aegis around several villages. He arrived only around a decade ago, but he devotes himself night and day to defending those beset by the countless perils of the supercontinent Drumis. He receives endless thanks and praise, yet his demeanor is always one of cold calculation and a haunted eye. Most of those in the villages he travels between give him respectful distance, helping him when needed with room and board and such, but otherwise letting him do his work in peace.   No one in Drumis knows of Vulanar's past. Indeed, no one questions it. They know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. And sure, some villagers have seen Vulanar drain the life force from a creature to its death. But, he's the only one equipped to defend the villages. Indeed, he willingly braves the dangers of Drumis. He's a hero to them. So, if it gets the job done, why ask?

Physical Description

Vulanar is decently tall and well-built, but not exceptionally strong. He wears a chain shirt and other pieces of armor in a very cobbled-together fashion. Across his back is a longsword and a greatsword, and at his sides are two daggers and a pack of javelins. Hanging from other parts of his belts are different pouches and bags. A tattered cloak covers his chest and hangs from his shoulders, with its dark hood often pulled up to hang low over his face, which is similarly masked by a porcelain mask bearing the likeness of an emotionless face, with two lines traveling from the chin to each eye.

A Dark Past

Vulanar was born with his brother, Zurlith, to unknown parents. The pair was quickly abandoned in the streets of Ariminium, but managed to subsist off the food that Vulanar's begging would procure. But the unlikely pair, an aasimar with golden hairs and eyes and a tiefling of dull golden eyes and charcoal grey ram horns, quickly drew unwanted attention. Not halfway through their first decades, Vulanar and his brother were kidnapped by a cult and brought to an ancient keep. There, the pair would spend the better part of the next twenty years being tortured, brainwashed, and groomed for their new stations.   Vulanar, with his natural charisma and bodily fortitude, was bred to become a commander and warrior. Vulanar spent ceaseless weeks and months training in martial combat and the brutal tactics of a militant tyrant. Rarely, if ever, did the brothers see one another during this time. And one day, once Vulanar was in his twenties and the training was becoming truly brutal, he was approached by a figure he had never seen before. Clad in armor black as night, and wielding weapons of a caliber Vulanar had never seen, the figure offered the young man a deal: "Sign a contract, join the Order of Desolation, and fight for Dispater as your own man, and know freedom for the first time since your childhood."   The choice was simple.   Vulanar remembers little from that day. But when he escaped, the aasimar's golden hair had become winter grey, his golden eyes like pools of silver, and his fair skin a similar shade of pale silver. His brother was no where to be found. Knowing that the cult would hunt him, Vulanar began wearing a cloak and mask, and set out as a brand new knight of Dispater. From there, he fled to Ariminium and joined the first ship out he could. Little did he know, that ship was a settlers' convoy, bound for the broken shores of Drumis.
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