Sarek Valaren

Biographical information

Birthplace Alliria Born Died Age 30 Home Crossroad Mire Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Human Sub-Race Gender Male Height 6'2 Mass 110 Hair color Grey Eye color Grey Skin color White

Political information

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

Out-of-character information

Writer Created on Avatar Ahmad Hilmi

It would not be far off to assume this mortal was simply another member of the undead. Across his body, his skin is littered with tumours, scars, weeping sores and scabs. Furthermore, parts of his body remain blackened and flakey, as if overtaken by some unknown plague that. His pustulent appearance aside, Sarek possesses sunken cheeks and, with bones protruding visibly across his body, gives off the impression of severe malnutrition. What's left of his hair is lank, grey and regularly falling away from his head, exposing his gnarled and warped cranium. Skin almost seems to hang off him and his muscles almost seem withered and expired to any onlookers.

Acutely aware, and made to feel aware, of his appearance. Sarek dons heavy patchwork and threadbare robes, often covering himself head to toe in bandages, hiding his appearance even in the unlikely event the robes failed. In his hand, or on his back depending on his mood, he has a long stave he carved from a bulbous and gnarled tree that can be used as a walking stick - or if the situation required - a weapon.

Sarek's appearance is not without reason. Shunned and cast away, his magic considered too dangerous and wicked for civilised company, as he wields the very element of pestilence. With quite significant wells of magic to draw upon and plenty of time spent in quiet, isolated, contemplation he has become quite proficient and drawing upon his magic and his time in Crossroad Mire has only furthered his skills.

In summary, his magic can be used to create diseases or plagues, similarly, he can drain the life or sap the strength from a target or object. Additionally, his affinity has granted him a connection with insects and rodents and he is able to control, communicate and even summon these creatures for his own whims and objectives.

Since his arrival at Crossroad Mire, he has gained a deeper understanding of the benefits surrounding his magic as well. In controlling pestilence, he is able to extract diseases, infections and illnesses from individuals, as well as preventing wounds from festering.

Finally, if need be, Sarek can rely on his staff as a weapon. While not an expert in fighting, he is able to defend himself to an adequate degree with his stave so as to allow him some mundane protection should his magic fail him.

Interestingly enough, Sarek does not act as one would normally expect from such a scorned social pariah. Despite his years of bullying, taunting and beating, he presents himself as a jolly and jovial individual eager to engage with anyone and searching for even the briefest of social exchanges. Yet one would be a fool if they thought they could take advantage of his sociable attitude towards people as his time growing up has enabled him the ability to quickly see through people. A stark warning for those who dare cross him, he does not forget and harbours deep, long-lasting, grudges for those who wrong him.

According to his father, when Sarek was born he stole away his mother. She had birthed a monster and it had cost her her life. His afflictions were always with him, the sores, the disease, the rot. While growing up anywhere like this would have been a challenge, Alliria presented a particular difficulty. In a city proud of its beauty, architecture and civility, how could such a monster roam free?

His father, and mother, had both been nobles and upon his birth, his father had rejected him. Forsaken to an orphanage, they too cast him out as his mere presence caused illness and fatigue over long periods of time. He grew up in the gutter, on the streets, always in the slums. He gained a reputation, people avoided the mutant for he brought ruin and destruction in his wake. Eventually, mages were sent for after a particularly bad outbreak of flux, caused when several men attacked him in the night.

Rats devoured one. The other erupted in painful boils and fled, the final mage survived - unscathed. He knew that Sarek was not at fault, society had let him down. For the next few years, he was trained to control his impulses and magic which enabled him greater freedom and control, unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Eventually, however, the mages decided his magic was too unsightly. He was not wielding the college magics they were accustomed to, but instead, he tapped into more primal eldritch magics. Sarek was the embodiment of pestilence. He fled shortly after and found himself wandering the continent in search of a home. Years, upon years, passed before he discovered a place where he felt, at least somewhat, welcome. Namely, Crossroad Mire.