Daimyo Vedicar of the Yuki-onna Clan

Tiefling Bladebound-Fiend Flayer Magus

Description:

The 6’5" tall purple skinned Vedicar has yellow slanted eyes and jet black hair which falls to his waist in a tight braid. He rarely smiles to obscure the delicate fangs his father left him with. Two small horns protrude from his head. He now wears robes in the colors of his clan. His ears rise to a point on the sides of his head. But he wears a cloak to disguise his infernal nature making him appear to be a human with golden eyes. It gives him the features of a man from the Jade Empire.

Bio:

My mother was a priestess of Imperius. She took a vow of chastity upon becoming an initiate. She broke that vow the day she was to take her orders as a Templar. She hid her sin from her brothers and sisters. She hoped to keep it from them forever yet my demon heritage made me gestate quickly. Six months after my inception my mother gave birth to me on a storm tossed ship. Lashed to the bed like an animal. They tossed me into the cruel sea upon seeing my twisted form. My mother escaped her bonds to plummet into the waters to save my infant form. She swam for miles with me on her back. It was a long time before the smugglers found us. They sold me to a gladiatorial school in Arcantus, her to a brothel. I didn’t see her for fifty years after that. The years passed in endless sameness. I was beaten, forced to do menial chores, and prey for the stronger bigger students. At sixteen I was shoved into the ring. “I’m not big enough,” I cried in my ill-fitted armor. No one heeded me. It seemed to last forever before I sneaked in a stab to the heart. The halfling man bled out in sands as the crowds cheered. I was pitted against more and more difficult opponents. Somehow I would always win. That was when I was named the Fate Twister. I escaped death by inches time and time again.

One day a man watched me fight. I was eating when my master brought him to me. He pulled his sword from its sheath and held it front of him. He asked me question after question about it’s origin and history. Pictures exploded in my mind. Too much to answer yet he kept pushing. I guess I must of answered. He took me away. He told me he hadn’t said a word. The blade was the one that spoke. Since I had no surname I was registered as Vedicar Bladespeaker.

Smarter than my jealous pupils they ganged up on my smaller framed body. They mocked me and called me fiend. All except a half-elf named Girard. The Masters seeing our friendship took advantage. They told me I had to tutor Girard in evocation or be put out on the street. I told them I would but I didn’t. Evocation is my specialty I could’ve done so with ease except my respect for his philosophy, which the Masters derided. Instead we discussed whatever came to mind or simply sat studying our other lessons. When it was discovered I hadn’t done as asked I was pulled before the administration. I sat terrified as the Archmage and his colleagues sat in judgment on my case. Something strange happened in that room. As they discussed my case they talked themselves into letting me stay. This led to rumors I bewitched them with my demonic powers.

I stayed long after Girard left. Becoming a full-fledged Journeyman I was hoping to stay and become a Mage myself yet I was told I had an important mission to fulfill. I was to find a magical Necromantic amulet and bring it back to the Citadel. When I did the Archmage called me into his Sanctum. I was expecting a reward, perhaps even to become a Master but instead I was told I was never meant to survive. “Your presence here is a disturbance to the others,” he said. “I would’ve kept you from becoming a journeyman if I could but you’re an excellent student. I’ll tell the others I sent you on another quest but it’s a lie. Officially you’ll still be one of us. Unofficially…” All I wanted was to have a home. Forty plus years of my life down the drain. I lost myself in drink for a while. I threw myself against the greatest monsters I could find. I even went back to being a gladiator for a time. That was when a crazy old woman gave me a sword she found in the Jade Empire. She told me it was my birthright. The guards ripped her from me. I visited her in jail where she babbled. The blade she’d given me showed me scenes from her life. She was my mother. She died there in a cell awaiting trial for what I never found out. Perhaps living was her crime.

The sword, Whisper, told me to seek out my old friend Girard. I hope to find him soon. I’m so terribly lonely…

Daimyo Vedicar of the Yuki-onna Clan

Sin Wars padraic_harrison