Description

Name: Narisaa Feledor

Race: Human

Class: Mage (Apprentice)

Age: 21

Appearance:
Standing at nearly six feet, he is a tall and thin young man. He wears his auburn hair in ripples, generally loose around his head. His skin is remarkably pale from all the time he spends locked up in a study. He has a remarkably young, open face, which contradicts the dark fascination in his bright green eyes.

Level: 1

Personality

Personality: Narisaa is most commonly characterized by his intelligence, and his eagerness to learn. He is ambitious and forever thirsty for knowledge of new magics - he wishes nothing more than to gain power in the realm of spell-casting. For now, he works for the side of what is by most people considered 'good', but he also recognizes that good and evil are both subjective. He is willing to let his views and morals shift as time and experience dictate, and as such refuses to align himself with any potent symbol of good or evil - a God, an organization, even an opinion. He remains thoroughly neutral, taking positions only when it will aid in the progression of his magical studies. He is a being obsessed, easily enticed by offers of powerful new magics, enchanted objects, or any other sort of knowledge or power linked to the magical arts. There are reasons that even his master, Kitherine Damacus, admits that he may not be entirely trustworthy.
He can be, however, a fair companion. He is not unsociable - he likes to sit around the fire with his companions and chat. He even considers them friends. He simply has to make sure that everyone knows his magic comes first. He would let anyone die if it meant the achievement of further magical ability. At least, he thinks he would - he has never been put in that situation before.

Diety: Undetermined

Likes: Magic, magical items, learning, books, spellbooks, he has little interest in anything else.

Dislikes: Being kept from his studies, being helpless, being overpowered, being chained up or held down in any way physically or figuratively.

Life Goals: To become the world's most knowledgeable - and if possible, powerful - mage.

Fears: Death, helplessness, losing his magic.

Quirks: Nari has a sort of nervous tick - when he is angry, his hand flicks through his hair, just briefly, usually accompanied by a sort of disgusted huff. When he is nervous or thinking he rubs the ring he wears on his left thumb - a ring carved out of bone.

Equipment

Weapons:

• Twin Daggers

• Black Robes of Maegus

• Waterproof Pack
• Spellbooks (one a gift from Kitherine, one half filled with his own notes and discoveries)
• Spell Components
• Emergency Medical Supplies

• Silvan - his familiar, a rather large bat who appears quite menacing. With russet fur and dark wings, he looks like a fox that can fly, and he has sharp little claws on his wings and tiny fangs. He is, however, a harmless fruit-eater, and quite fond of his master.

• Messaging parchment (communes with the parchment in the Book of Messaging from which it was torn, which travels with Kitherine)
• Bone Ring - a simple, bleached white band carved of human bone. Enchanted with a minor shielding spells which blocks most small missiles (arrows, quarrels, stones, etc.)

• Ghost Sound
• Acid Splash
• Touch of Plague
• Light
• Alarm
• Obscuring Mist
• Sleep
• Burning Hands
• Magic Missile

History

History: From a very young age, Narisaa has been interested in the dark arts, and indeed in all forms of magic. At the age of seven he enrolled in a school of magic, where he excelled. Eventually, he was picked out from among the students there, at the age of fifteen, to become the apprentice of the great wizard of Delta - Kitherine Damacus. He has learned a great deal from Kitherine, and though he would never admit it they have become something of a father and son pair. Narisaa, whose father abandoned his mother before he was born, does not really know how to deal with the relationship, but they are drawing ever closer.

Still, after seven years of remaining mostly holed up in Kitherine's tower at Delta, Narisaa has become bored with living in books. He wanted to use his magic, and perhaps gain some magic, in the real world, as Kitherine does. Kitherine has sensed his restlessness, and has handed down to him an assignment originally meant for the archmage himself. Join a party of warriors traveling to recover something stolen from the Gods.

So begins...

Narisaa Feledor's Story

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Tane

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#2012-04-09 03:30:27, as written by Everscale

Kevril Loreweaver

Kevril huffed quietly and let the tense subject drop. He had never been accepted by his people, at least not completely, and he had never spent much time trying to change that. Nevertheless, their disgust at his half-human appearance hurt him somewhere deep inside. A place he rarely went, and never let anyone else go. There were many reasons for his choice of seclusion…

Brushing the complicated subject off, he let his soft brown hair drop back over his pointed ear and continued out across the stone-specked plains. He had half a mind to simply walk in silence, but the universe did not seem inclined to permit it. The soft brush of paws I grass caught his attention first, and he had an arrow knocked before he could think straight enough to wonder what it was which had moved. His reflexes, at least this time, proved to be useful.

The great snarl as the grass-cat sprang out of its hunting crouch was the only warning the ranger received before he aimed and released the string. He was practiced at battle-time shooting. He knew how to aim in the space of a split second. The arrow struck the cat hard in the chest, brought it easily out of the air.

The only problem with grass-cats was… they never hunted alone.
____________________________________________________

Yasryne Everhund

Yasryne smirked slightly. She certainly had a flare for the dramatic – she was almost certain that it was impossible to live underground and not have a flare for the dramatic. Life could get a little boring when all one had to look at was a bunch of tunnels and stone walls. Even she, a lover of darkness and rock and night-time, had to admit that much. She loved to show off, to perform, in her way. She liked to make people stare at her. Make them wonder. Make them lust. It didn’t matter who, as long as they were watching her, as long as she was having fun.

“I’m not sure,” she answered Luna’s next question, still staring at what she assumed – wrongly – was the expanse of the Gates of Ice. “You said we’re not supposed to knock, but how on earth else are we supposed to—”

She cut off as, with a great rumbling creak, the gates swung open. Her sharp silver brows crunched together.
“Did… they just…?”
____________________________________________________

Narisaa Feledor and Kitherine Damacus

Narisaa could hardly containe his excitement, all studies forgotten. He was going to do it… he had to… surely Kitherine would not suggest it and then simply revoke the right? His mentor was right in saying that Helkara would not mind if he went. Kitherine had to be. Nari could not take another year locked up in this great tower, hardly even allowed to leave it and explore the home-streets of Delta. He had barely seen the face of another humanoid for the last several years. Kitherine did not count – he showed his face so infrequently that, though he had seen it, Nari was not sure that he would recognize his Master by his features without already having known that he was who he was.

Kitherine seemed oblivious to Narisaa’s pent up excitement, though in truth Narisaa knew that Kitherine could feel his every tremor. The archmage watched Claenereth without faltering, eyes bright like a pair of stars. He did not fidget, did not even move. Simply watched.
“There are others,” he agreed quietly. “Several others. Your coming was prophesized, my Lady. Helkara suggested that I should like to kill you upon your arrival.”

Narisaa’s breath caught with panic. If Kitherine did that, he would never escape the necromancer’s tower.

Kitherine was silent for another instant, considering Claenereth, as though she were a rather juicy piece of venison. Then he shook his head. “I would not like to kill you,” he told her softly. “Helkara gave me no direct command, and so I must do nothing. I will follow the path set down for me in the prophecy.”

---

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