Aeraku
Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2020 9:20 pm
A E R A K U
Details
Full Name: Aeraku
Race: Rathari Dog Beastalt
Subrace: Dranoch Botchling
Sex: Male
Orientation: Bisexual
Age: 25
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 130 Lbs
Birthdate: 24th of Glade, 495
Birthplace: Atinaw
Profession: Runeforger
Housing: A Cottage In Loras, Atinaw
Partners: None
Titles: None
Factions: Bloodless Kin, The Court of Dusk
Fluencies: Vithmi, Kokolath
Conversationals: None
Ineptitudes: None
Appearance
There is a sense as one's eyes fall upon this creature that Aeraku is a hollow, wasting thing in poor health. Abstaining as often as he can from feeding, Aeraku is starving himself to the brink of death before he buys himself a little more time, and this shows in his body. The Rathari's limbs are spindly, his body emaciated but hidden beneath a tight, long-sleeved, high collared black robe covered in clasps and red embroidery. Even before he was cursed, Aeraku was considered a runt among Rathari.
Beyond his ailing form, Aeraku's body conforms to that of a hunting breed of dog walking upon two legs. He has white fur, ashen in places, two tall fluffy triangles atop his head for ears, a fluffy white tail to betray his emotions, and a long, bestial muzzle filled with sharp, possibly too sharp to hint at what he truly is, teeth. His hands are covered in soft pads, fingers a bit shorter but covered in claws that appear to be larger, sharper, and more angular than usual. The most telling aspect that he is a Botchling would be his suspicious canine eyes of smoky red, but he feigns being hard of vision to avoid suspicion. Aeraku can often be seen wearing spectacles to further sell this lie.
When he moves, his movements are fluid, graceful, and deliberate. He speaks with his hands as he does his deep, rasping voice, gesturing and animated to convey how he feels. Even his tail swings and sways to the rhythm of the conversation. This makes him a poor liar to a trained eye, but few understand the mannerisms of a Rathari anyway.
Like many Beastalt Rathari, he opts to not wear boots, as the pads on his feet shield him from the ground to an extent. He still maintains a pair of sandals for traversing the city streets, however. Even the claws upon his paw-like feet are thicker, sharper than normal.
Runes
Aeraku's rune lays beneath a thick hide of fur upon his chest, hidden from view. It is set into his flesh, and cannot be seen without first shaving the area, or prying the fur apart and taking notice of its existence.
Rune of Negation
Personality
Introverted and prone to inner monologue, Aeraku has a gifted mind that thinks in depth before action, only rarely surrendering to instinct. What he is still defines him, and the canid aspects of his Rathari blood have seeped into his mind, leaving him easily distracted by scents, sounds, and instinctual prey drive that has since shifted to vulnerable humans rather than the bounding hares and skittering rodents he'd hunted in his youth.
More than this is the Dranoch hunger. Before being turned, Aeraku was an intelligent, kind, compassionate soul, yet ambitious and driven. These traits stuck around, if muted and redirected, and left him conflicted after being afflicted by the curse of a Mist Lord. The hunger and the atrocities he'd committed are wearing thin his sanity. Until he can find a cure to his curse, he abstains from feeding where he can, preferring to rarely consume those who were short for this life to begin with. Criminals and the ill. This is easier said than done, for he is easily unhinged by the scent of blood, driven to stalk the source and spending much of his time longing for it, staring from a distance or consumed by such thoughts that only fear and guilt keep him from acting upon.
The constant suffering Aeraku endures is punctuated by suicidal thoughts. When he was newly turned, he tried to end his own life numerous times but failed and labeled himself a dangerous coward when he is anything but. The memories of giving in to the Blood Sickness and feeding without thought haunt him, as all of his victims do. Still, he is a young Botchling, slowly cracking under the effects of the curse eating his morals away from the inside.
As Aeraku had seen much abuse by the man who give him his curse, another fear he holds is that Rakkis may one day return. The abuse he suffered under the man's claws was inside and out. This has left him averse to the touch of others whom he does not completely trust, shaken by sudden touches and easily reminded of traumas he cannot rid himself of. As messed up as it is, the anguish holds him to his virtues, helping to vindicate his beliefs that he needs to make this right.
Magic is Aeraku's primary distraction. Meddling in the aetherial and the strange can dull what he feels, like a drug. This gives him an edge, a deep all-consuming focus necessary to help hide his mind from his own nature. Fearful of a loss of control, he avoids mind-altering substances save for sedatives, which he isn't averse to relying upon to sleep through the fitful, constant hunger.
Religion is a complicated thing for Aeraku. Like all Rathari, he feels the Purpose and for him, it is to find peace with himself. Interpreting that sense as the need to find a cure, he toils and clings to this part of his identity. He respects most gods, but does not openly worship any save for the Old Gods. His respect extends to the Dragon Gods, to the Mist Lords and more save for Myshala whom he holds a sense of conceit for that he could never put a finger on. His life has been steeped in tragedy under the sway of the Mist Lord Xarakses' curse, and so he has seen enough of the world to understand the hand in things these beings play. On the rare occasion he prays, it is often so that the pendulum will swing the other way and offer him a boon after a long period of having so little go his way.
History
Born in Atinaw to the dregs of the Bloodless Kin, Aeraku always wanted to be somebody, to stand out from the riffraff, the forsworn, and the looked down upon. Many avenues of the world were shuttered to him: he could not learn at the academy as a child, for he had no money. When he came of age to work, a checkered past of survival robbed him of the stability he needed to maintain some semblance of an education. He grew bitter, even if he looked after the woebegone and their treacherous lecherous lot with true compassion. There had to be something more. He felt his Purpose early on, to find 'peace' with himself and his ambitions.
Aeraku set his sights on Daravin, where he'd heard Runes of magic were handed out to the ignorant to roll the dice on their fates. This was all he needed, and he made haste across the realms until he found himself at a place far, far from home where few spoke his tongue.
One day Aeraku awoke to the jostling rustle of his mentor packing the lab away in a fuss, with haste. He was drawn into the effort without explanation, and everything was to be loaded into wagon; they were off to Sil-Elaine, a land that worried him to no end. He'd heard stories of the place, and he knew of the bloodsuckers that lived there. When Rakkis' sleeve tore during their travels to reveal a forest of jagged quills, he knew immediately that he must run.
Confronting his master seemed like a bad idea, so he left under the cover of night, but Rakkis caught up to him in a rage. The abuse that followed ascended to new heights, unlike anything before. Too horrible for him to remember, Aeraku buried the trauma away deep inside, but he'll never fully be rid of the memories nor shake the flashes that give him cause to feel ill. It ended in a crescendo as they crossed the dreary borders of Sil-Elaine into the lands of naught; Aeraku had contracted the Mist Lord's curse. Not only had he been violated by another, he was doomed to become a monster. He was told it was for his own good, but to be given the curse through such abhorrent means left his mind in tatters.
What followed was a Blood Sickness that he fought against and repeatedly failed to shake for the span of half a year. Those days were a blur of feeding, anguish, and attempts at taking his own life. When he finally came down from it, he came to understand that the Court of Dusk had adopted him into their fold, and that he was a rarity among Dranoch in Sil-Elaine at least. Receding deep within, hiding behind a numb state of complacency, Aeraku was eager to learn when Rakkis resumed teaching and abusing him.
He couldn't take it anymore, living like a murderous savage and playing tea time with the pompous pestilence of this land under wretched claw and villainous hive. Going above his master, he risked it all and petitioned the Cardinal holding authority over the cretin who made him for something abroad, anything to be away from this place. Aeraku woefully explained his origin as well as the abuse he was suffering under the Cardinal. He wanted no justice, only a reprieve, and by some miracle his wish was granted and he was sent to Atinaw where he would shack up within the walls a small town called Loras to spy on the interests of the Court of Dusk. Namely mages, and the spread of the Black Remedy, their Sigilic Pyromancy a noted concern.
This was enough. At first.
Aeraku grew ill again, this time with shame as he descended upon Atinaw in the year one-seventeen like a predator in a forest of prey who could not hold a candle to what he was. It wasn't fair to him, that he should take lives, and for what? To feel good? The solution was to find a cure, and so he pursued just that. He began amassing skills, resources, and connections pursuant to that goal while helping the citizens of Loras with wards, sewn articles of clothing, and tool repairs in exchange for their coinage. The other Dranoch around Loras be damned, he'd never make their mistakes nor fall into their fold. Power-hungry fools.
The road is fraught with hunger and doubt, but who would he be if he didn't try?
