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Avaraen

A curse to become a blessing. I hunt my brother, the only one I know to be left. He will let me live in peace when he's gone.

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a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Ikiros

Description

ImageName: Avaraen
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 210lbs
Age: 954 yrs
Hair: Black
Eyes: Brown
Race: Atlantean

Avaraen is a swordsman form the ancient city of Atlantis. He is the younger brother of Ikiros, even though the elder brother doesn't know this. Most of his weight is muscle built over his decades of training with a blade. As with all Atlanteans, his ears taper, though they are hidden by his hair, which reaches past his waist. He wears a sleeveless white top with a collar that covers most of his neck and a pair of leggings beneath his traditional warriors battle kilt. On his arms are a pair of bracers, the one on his right wrist substantially larger. On his feet are a pair of what many would say to be oversized boots. He wears an amulet around his neck, the symbol of his patron god. He has an accent that drifts between Italian, British, and Eastern European when he speaks english, but he speaks quietly enough to keep it hidden from more than half the people he speaks to.

Unfortunately, this form is now only a body which he no longer needs to have to survive. As he was being taken by Death himself, his soul took up residence in his enchanted blade. His natural form at this point is his sword, though he can resume his humanoid form with a small amount of concentration.

Personality

Avaraen is a fairly traditional Atlantean. He feels that, because of who he is, he is more important than others and that his control over more than just himself ought to have given him higher standing in the world. He is firm in his belief of the pantheon of Atlantis and is able to instruct others in many of the rituals for honoring each god. He's a little short-tempered and gets angry a little more easily than most would, but he's able to see reason when he's given the facts about a situation. When confronted with strangers and new locations, Avaraen always checks for exit points and tactical hiding locations, places that would allow him to watch without being seen. Although he may have some temper issues, he is usually very level headed and speaks his mind about most things.

As of late, he's taken to being more pensive than usual, due to his new life as an immortal blade.

Equipment

Armor:
Head: n/a
Neck: amulet of deity (protects against low-mid strength magic)
Shoulders: n/a
Chest: cloth shirt enchanted to stop piecing weapons from getting through. (slashes and bludgeoning effect and piercing turns into bludgeoning)
Left Arm: dark leather bracer, slightly enchanted for speed
Right Arm: dark leather bracer enchanted for speed covered in large metal plates. Enchanted to augment his magic abilities
Waist: battle kilt/leather sheath for sword
Legs: leggings enchanted to repel metal weapons and/or projectiles
Feet: boots made of the hide of an atlantean rhino, easily able to deflect high-caliber bullets and light magic/energy weapon attacks.
Weaponry:
Sword:
ImageFaerusig-
A sword he was given as he left Atlantis. It was blessed by the god of the hunt to be lighter and faster than any blade of the same metal. Also enchanted by the elders, as all atlantean weapons are, to never break from combat or waste away from corrosion. It was given a special enchantment when Avaraen left, making it possible for the sword to cut through shields, at the risk of weakening the wielder's mind and reflexes for a few seconds. Because it was blessed by one of the gods, it was given the name Faerusig, and combination of the words, faerui (sword) and sinsag (bless). At this point, this sword not only holds his soul, but it's the soul entirely.
Fire:
-fireballs, walls of flame, and the cauterization of wounds are about as far as his abilities with fire go.
Wind:
-Small tornadoes, clouding the air, making air denser or less dense by moving the air to a new location, and making moderate sized storms occur are his most common abilities with wind magic.
Lightning:
-due to control of air and fire, Avaraen can control small amount of lightning. Most of the time, he only shoot individual bolt as streaks, but if he concentrates hard enough, he can unleash a wave of electric power in a bubble about twelve feet in diameter.

History

Avaraen was born in 1056 in the city of Atlantis. Although he'd been born during the city's slow decline before it vanished, he was born into the same family as Ikiros. At age twelve, when he was first tested at age 12 to see if he could use magic, He showed a proficiency with the use of elemental wind. He was trained rigorously, and was found that he was an amazing wind mage up to a certain point. He could never use the final few techniques that master wind users could. When he went before the elders to show how he'd improved, they tested him again, to see why he might have his power blocked. They pushed him until, after more than three days of work, they finally saw him release a burst of fire from his hands, showing he was also able to control fire in small amounts. Although odd, the elders decided not to banish him as they had banished his brother. They instead sent him through training again, to see the limits of his fire magic. It was eventually shown that he was more skilled in wind than fire, but that he was proficient enough in both to be more than a warrior or a mage. He was to be a hunter, seeking out those who had dishonored Atlantis in some manner, but that had also escaped. He was tasked with finding his own brother and killing him, to make sure that only Atlanteans would know of what went on in their little utopia.

A few days ago, he became immortal, due to a hiccup while being taken by Death. His soul, as it left his body, fled to hide in his sword, rather than following Death to the lands beyond this life. He'd not intended to become such a being, but is glad he has.

So begins...

Avaraen's Story

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#, as written by Ikiros
Avaraen entered Gambit's, calm and collected. He looked upon the other patrons with minor disdain but he walked up to Pearls and asked, "Have you seen a man by the name of Ikiros?"

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Avaraen entered Gambit's, calm and collected. He looked upon the other patrons with minor disdain but he walked up to Whisper and asked, "Have you seen a man by the name of Ikiros?"

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#, as written by Ikiros
Avaraen walked over to Ayriel, not worrying about whether she was having a conversation or not. He asked calmly, "Have you heard of or seen a mad named Ikiros?"

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Avaraen turned and walked to the door of the bar before saying to himself, "I guess my brother it here. He'll be found, I know will be." And with that, the strange man walked out of the bar.

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Avaraen walked into the bar. He was a bit frustrated, but it would pass when his mission was completed. He looked around, trying to gauge the people within the room before walking up to Whisper, not caring who might be near her.

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Avaraen "I hope you could." His voice thrummed with confidence and notes of an accent long-since forgotten. "I'm looking for a man named Ikiros. He stands about 5 foot ten inches tall, white hair, pair of swords. Have you seen him?"

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Avaraen "Thank you." He turned and walked to the bar, looking at the shelf behind it to find something he might like to drink. He wasn't a heavy drinker, or even that much of a light one, but he enjoyed it from time to time.

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Avaraen watched the bottle fly off the shelf. Although he hadn't been looking to take it at first, he read it as it passed by and decided it would be fine. He turned and looked at the person now holding the bottle. "Excuse me. Would you care to share that with me?"

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Avaraen accepted the bottle and snatched one of the flying glasses as it came past him without so much as a second glance. "I'm Avaraen. Not to spoil our meeting, but have you heard of or seen a man who goes by the name Ikiros?"

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Avaraen "He is my brother. I was tasked with finding him and killing him before returning to my home. I heard rumors that my home has vanished, but the place I come from is far too powerful to have vanished. As for seeing him, I would hope you'd let me know if you did." He poured the wine into his glass before sipping it gently. He didn't realize that, by now, his Atlantean accent, a mix of british, Italian, and Russian, would be causing some mild confusion if someone tried to figure out where he was from without asking.

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Avaraen smiled. "I'm from the island of Atlantis. My people are strong in the magic of the elements. I highly doubt that they've left the earth's face." He was quite certain that his home was still around. He'd only been gone from it for about 900 years or so, nothing big. His people had been around for millennia.

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Avaraen looked at her, confused. "You are a mage. I noticed when you first used the wind to bring you a bottle. As for my home sinking, that couldn't possibly be true. Our elder of Water would have stopped the waves before they got within a few miles of our shores. And I can most certainly assure you the It exists." He smiled slyly, thinking over the taste of the white wine. It tasted alright to him, though he was now more interested in this woman who'd given it to him.

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Avaraen "I may not return until my task is finished. My brother must die before he can leak secrets of our home to the world. If I should, I would suffer the same punishment as he, torture by all four of our elders, being kept alive for eternity." He sat there, swirling the wine around in his glass for a while, watching it rise on one part of the glass while it dipped lower on the other part.

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Avaraen "No matter. My task is his death, even if he has not leaked anything to all these...Humans." He stopped swirling the glass, letting the water swirl aorund slower and slower until it settled, unmoving.

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Avaraen sighed. "I live for his death. When he dies, I will be granted the most prestigious rewards The elders can bless me with. Immortality. Once I am forever, then will I worry about my life for me." He watched her wine swirling without provocation.

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Avaraen "Immortality is life eternal, at whatever age you may have been when it is granted. A blade to the heart is still going to kill you, but living beyond the lifespan of even the oldest among your race will leave you unscarred. My brother carries this blessing, though it was bestowed as a curse for him to live longer than anyone he holds dear to himself."

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Avaraen watched the woman leave, still wondering what she could do. He turned, not saying a word, back to his drink. If he should be bothered, perhaps he would return words. Perhaps.

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#, as written by Ikiros
Avaraen turned around to look at the orc. He could smell a myriad of odors wafting off the creatures, mostly scents one could find among the forests in various areas of the world. He stood, allowing his height to give him a slight advantage. "And why should help one who has insulted me." He pulled back whatever hair might be covering his ears, showing them to be tapered to points. "I am no human, but I will let your insult be considered your insolence. What may I do to assist one such as yourself?"

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Avaraen smirked at the creature's slower wit. "I will read it, as you have requested, in silence." He held out his hand, waiting for the parchment to be placed among his fingers.

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Avaraen "This letter is asking if you'd like to...to challenge others in a game. The game is similar to a hunt. Although...you wouldn't be hunting the other hunters. You're hunting for pieces of cloth. Each cloth has a different color. I think you ought to join. You get to hunt alongside myself perhaps. I know I'm going to take my chances at it." He smiled, thinking he'd done well at translating the more complex ideas of competition into a form the orc was more likely to understand, given his race. Avaraen chuckled softly, his thoughts buzzing because of his mild superiority complex.

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Avaraen smiled and sipped down the remains of the white wine in his glass. "So. What are you called?" He was careful not to let himself become to high-and-mighty feeling, so as not to insult the orc before he faced it in competition.

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Avaraen repeated the orc's name, albeit with a slight change because of his own accent, a mix of British, Italian, and Russian. "Gorahk'Nak eh? Well then, It's good that we're meeting on peaceful terms. I am Avaraen, son of Mitos, son of Nichon. I am a Hunter, come from the legendary city of Atlantis." He stood straighter at the word hunter. Glad that his god had favored him in his hunt, Avaraen was comfortable showing the pendant around his neck to anyone who he spoke with.

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Avaraen simply nodded, not caring to speak any longer. He scanned the bar, making sure to check carefully, should his brother be in the room. Not seeing his brother's trademark white hair, which had become a staple of all atlanteans according to an animated movie, He got up and exited the bar, weaving among those entering without an issue.

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Avaraen walked into Gambit's once more, a look of slight disgust crossing his face as he saw the plethora of creatures not as refined as himself. He saw a few people carrying flames with them, causing him to be curious. he thought, thinking about walking over to them and seeing how powerful they were.

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Avaraen became more intrigued by the woman at the bar who had a katana strapped to her waist and a small ball of flame in her hand. He walked over to her and bowed, though not very low, and said, "Sermach sinsag ivu."

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