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Quinlan Duirne, Blood Mage

Started by Lion, October 14, 2014, 01:30:05 AM

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Lion

Prologue
+ NAME +Quinlan Duirne
+ ALIAS + The Reaver
+ AGE + 29-33 or so but lost count years ago.
+ GENDER + Male
+ STAR SIGN + The Drifting Leaf
+ BORN + Late Winter
+ ORIGIN + Connlaoth
+ SPECIES + Human
+ RESIDENCE + Nomadic, currently Serendipity and Adela
+ OCCUPATION + Rogue, Thief, Assassin
+ COUNTENANCE + Indigo Eyes / Dark Auburn hair
+ STATURE + 5' 11" / 181 lbs.
+ SEXUALITY + Yes, Please!


CH. I – Painting a Portrait
About five foot eleven inches in height, and weighing in at about a hundred and eighty-one pounds, Quinlan's build is slim but strong, a well-constructed chest and chiseled abdomen, much like his father.  It might even be described as athletic, and it's certainly aided in survival more than once.  He's built enough and flexible enough to be able to move with agility and pack a punch when he needs to.  He has a slim face, a slim nose with a wide bridge and thin brows.  He's a fairly good-looking man with a light tan; though he's generally clean shaven, some scruff manages to grow here and there.

+ NOTABLE MARKS +
He has a few tattoos on his body, most of them tribal in design.  The most prominent one is on his left shoulder, a starry spiral that combs outward and the bottom tendrils wrap around his arm and stop just before his elbow.

CH II – Persona
Cynical and smart-mouthed, a feature that has often gotten him into trouble, Quinlan has little qualms when it comes to speaking his mind.  If you never say what you mean, you'll spend the rest of your life wishing you did; or so he would think.  There have been plenty of times his mouth has caused a problem or two with someone twice his size, to which he has little fear facing, and it's nothing a swift kick to the nuts can't resolve.  Needless to say, he fights dirty, using any underhanded matter to save his own skin, or maybe the skin of someone that might be useful to him later on (depending on his mood).

Quinlan is a huge risk-taker, usually going for the riskier option because he feels the greater the risk the greater the reward, with just about everything in life.  Fortune favors the bold as the saying goes.  Part of it is from the rush of thrill-seeking, the other is the need to survive.  But when the thrills are few and the quiet settles in, Quinlan enjoys his peace like any other man, with a cold drink, a hot meal, and a good lay if one's around.  He never stays idle for long however, always on the move, looking for the next big score.

+ FAITH +
While not wholly an atheist, neither is he a vocal believer in any one religion.  He tries to look at the world more openly and believes people don't need faith to live full and happy lives.  On the other hand, he has a quiet jealousy of those that hold ardent faith, as they often have a quiet strength about them a contentedness that he lacks in his own life.  He was once raised to believe in Ansgarism, but loss faith when he left his homeland.

+ HABITS +
Quinlan smokes a bit, and drinks quite a bit, though he wouldn't admit it.  He has a boot flask he keeps on his person filled with whatever spirit he managed to steal.  At times, he's a bit of a kleptomaniac and will pocket anything particularly shiny and not nailed down.

CH III – Social

+ RELATIONSHIPS +
Hiron Duirne, Father, Alive, 49, Merchant
Emeria Duirne, Mother, deceased
Malena Duirne, Sister, Alive, 26, Married

CH IV – Abilities / Skills
+ DIRTY FIGHTING +
Growing up largely on his own forced Quinlan to learn a variety of ways to defend himself, and he'll use anything and everything he can at his disposal to do so.  He usually does not combat another with the intent to kill.  He has quick reflexes and can easily distract with one hand and sucker punch with the other.  It's always nice to carry a small pouch of sand on one's person just in case.

+ BLOOD MAGIC +
Bearing both sides of the same coin, being a blood mage is both a gift and a curse.  His talent wasn't very prevalent when he was young and gradually progressed as he grew older.  It is not a gift he uses often, but in acts of desperation or intense emotion, Quinlan may not think about the consequences of his actions.  He possesses the ability to increase the temperature of a person's blood, essentially boiling them to death.  He can heal himself at a considerable rate if he consumes the blood of another; the blood of other mages is even more potent. Even a single drop of blood can be manipulated into a dart-like projectile with elemental effects to them though he is limited to either ice or acidic effects.

But his own blood is tainted, cursed and causes him great pain.  It is slowly killing him and causes him to feel as if his needles are coursing through his blood.  He takes a serum that sustains him, subsides the pain and thins his blood.  He always keeps a few of these on his person but in the event that he runs out, he may heal himself with blood treated in a ritual.

CH V – Gear / Equipment
+ DAGGERS +
Quinlan generally favors small blades, made for quick precise movements, and are easily concealable.  He usually carries four or five on his person, two on his belt, one in his boot, another up his sleeve and another hidden under his shirt in the event that he's disarmed.  If he can avoid conflict altogether, even better.  And if that isn't possible, using your fists is always another way to go.

CH VI – Reflections of the Past
Quinlan was born to Hiron and Emeria Duirne, as the oldest child of two.  His father was a moderately wealthy man who made his fortune selling trinkets and charms with mild effects to them as a merchant.  He was a mage of minor consequence, and his skills were easy to hide from the public.

Quinlan wished Hiron was more open with his abilities, that he didn't hide it away like he was ashamed of himself.  But otherwise his upbringing was idyllic and happy until the day the Mordecai came.  His mother was captured and arrested when she was accused of being a mage (to which she wasn't) and involved in an incident where soldiers were assaulted in a market place.  She refused to talk, despite being tortured and beaten, and she eventually died of her wounds.

Nothing could have devastated Quinlan more and his heart died the day his mother did.  He was broken and slowly boiled in his anger and resentment, directing it toward his father.  Hiron was a coward, he refused to take action against the men who murdered Emeria, refused to do anything!  And Quinlan's feeling's only worsened when the war began.

He heard no answers to his prayers to Ansgar.  And soon enough became enough.  After a fight with his father, Quinlan ran off into the wilds, wandering through the Sirantil Valley with no plan and little hope of survival.  He couldn't return home, not with his pride broken and after all he'd said. Still he prayed, giving one final plea that justice might be granted to him.  But still there was no answer.  Then he prayed to any who would listen, to give him the power to exact vengeance upon the men that murdered his mother.  And the voice that replied chilled him to the core.

"I can grant you the power you seek, mortal," the voice said.  Quinlan didn't know if he was dreaming or awake.  And he saw a misty form emerge between the trees; it congealed into a humanoid form, with eyes like tiny fiery orbs.  He was in both awe and fear, but his curiosity soon got the better of him.  "Blood for blood."

In his desperation, in his despair, Quinlan agreed, without question to the terms of the pact.  His magical connection made the imbuement that much easier, and the gift of blood magic bonded with him.  The demon had made claim to his soul, in exchange for great power. 

But he had no other thought than to exact revenge.  He tracked down the Mordecai that slaughtered Emeria and killed them, each one, brutally and without remorse.  It was only in the aftermath, however, did the weight of the world fall hard on him.  Quinlan had been blinded by vengeance, scorned his father and sister...

He returned home, changed, different now more than ever and should have known his father would not allow him to stay.  It would not be long before other Mordecai would come looking for him, and endanger his family.  That he could not allow.  Hiron turned away his only son, but not without sorrow, embracing him one last time before casting him out.

Quinlan fled south, to Serendipity, or wherever the road took him.  He regretted leaving behind his sister the most as war further ravaged the land.  In the years that passed, Quinlan rescinded on his pact with the demon that haunted his dreams, breaking the claim that would take his soul in death in a blood ritual.  But before the promise could be broken, he was cursed, and the power he'd been given would forever be a poison in his blood.

THREADS

The Sirrush and the Scam Artist
The Unease in the Air
The Skin Trade
The Bottom of the Beer Bottle
Blood on the Rocks [COMPLETE]




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Desert Valley Nights
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