Ramiel

Biographical information

Birthplace Thyasari Born Died Age 267 Home Allir Reach, varies Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Avariel Sub-Race Gender Male Height 6’1” (186 cm) Mass Who’s asking? Hair color Dark Brown Eye color Blue Skin color

Political information

Affiliation(s) Occupation ”Yes” Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer Myrra Created on 11/02/2020 Avatar Bea May

It was supposed to be an easy task. As one of the newest apprentices of The Merchants order within Avariel society the young Ramiel was supposed to pop down to the surface, negotiate a simple trade deal, and come back. That was almost a century ago.

Ramiel ignored the warnings of the elders about hiding one's wings on the surface, keeping a low profile, and not making a scene. As a result he discovered something truly incredible. Humans, especially the ones outside of the major city centers, would offer him gifts for what they called, ‘blessings.’ They believed him to be some sort of angel sent by whichever divine being they believed in.

To this day Ramiel prefers to spend his time on the surface, wings on full display, taking advantage of whatever gifts, coins, or even women that are thrown his way.

Arrogant and brash, he can rub people the wrong way fairly often. He’s respectful enough to the elders of Avariel society and the select few he deems to be his friends but can be extremely impatient with humans who don’t revere him.

Ramiel has a beautiful face and he knows it. His hair is kept short and is a dark brown shade while his eyes are a piercing azure color. His form is lithe just like most other avariels and his wings are a cream color near his body slowly turning into a darker tan as they extend out towards the tips. Similar to that of a barn owl.

Ramiel was born with a striking affinity for lightning magic. He is so adept at using electricity that in his early years he was considered a prodigy. This natural talent for lightning magic has caused him to shirk any lessons that involved hand-to-hand combat, melee weapons, or ranged weaponry.

He views blunt instruments, swords, and bows as the weapons of primitives and far too dirty to sully his hands with. If he can’t kill it with his shock magic then it isn’t going to be dying anytime soon.

At 267 years old Ramiel is still considered a young adult by Avariel standards. He descended to the surface world at the age of 163 to negotiate a simple exchange of goods with a plantation near The Spine. Instead of going directly there and hiding his wings, as instructed, he soared over a small village. Upon landing he was hailed as a savior due to the locals belief that he resembled a prophesied angel. He did not correct them and instead of negotiating the assigned trade deal he spent several weeks drinking free booze and bedding several of the locals.

When he returned to Thyasari he was scolded and threatened to be put on desk duty for the rest of his days. However, the knowledge he had gained of the humans (much of it exaggerated or made up) impressed the elders within The Merchant’s order enough that they were willing to allow him to work on a new project. An outreach project that Ramiel pitched as aimed at “improving relationships and bridging the gaps between the Avariel and the lesser races.”

Due to the tendency of the others within Avariel society to look down on non-Avariels this plan was allowed as they believed that Ramiel would likely be one of the few within their society to voluntarily agree to such an arrangement.

And so it is that Ramiel now spends much of his time amongst the flightless races. Sometimes hunted by those who wish to harvest his wings, sometimes adorned as a servant of god, and sometimes just performing cheap parlor tricks for booze. He pops into Thyasari to give status reports every decade or so, or when he becomes homesick.

Depiction of Ramiel, servant of the Mother Goddess.
Painted by Osirian of the Uruki Peoples of the Allir Reach.

Source: Peter Mohrbacher


Dear brethren, have you heard the tale?

Of our LORD’s splendor and love of ale?

Sit and listen, let me regale!

A being who has no equal, whose flesh is pale.

It is a story of the one, the only, the great Ramiel!

Bringer of Thunder and Light, he sees to our every delight!

Ramiel! Ramiel! Ramiel!

• Drunken Sonnet, composer unknown.