Beyond the shadowed corridors of Bloodveil, past the candlelit chambers where deals are struck and whispered secrets take root, lies the Hall of Echoes—a place where names linger, etched into the fabric of the city itself.
Here, fate is recorded. The noble and the forsaken, the hunters and the hunted, the wanderers and the bound—all who step into Bloodveil leave their mark. This hall serves as a testament to those who shape the city's ever-turning wheel, a place where identities are unveiled and destinies are set in motion.
Whether you are a scion of Bloodveil's ancient houses, a hunter lurking in its forgotten depths, or an outsider drawn into its eternal twilight, your presence in the Hall of Echoes is undeniable.
Post your character sheet here, and let the city remember your name.
Code:
[center][SIZE=6][B][COLOR=maroon]Bloodveil Character Sheet[/COLOR][/B][/SIZE][/center]
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[B][COLOR=maroon]Character Name:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](What name is whispered in the shadows?)[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Alias/Nickname:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](If they are known by another name, what is it?)[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Race:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](Vampire, human, revenant, or something that defies classification?)[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Bloodline (if noble):[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](If tied to one of Bloodveil's noble houses, which do they serve?)[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Age:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](How long have they walked the streets of Bloodveil?)[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Appearance:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](Describe their features, attire, and notable markings. Do they bear the signs of their pact or hide them well?)[/INDENT]
[HR][/HR]
[B][COLOR=maroon]District of Residence:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](Where do they dwell within Bloodveil? The Shrouded Quarter? The Forgotten Warrens? Are they a wanderer with no home?)[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Occupation:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](Do they wield influence as a noble? Trade secrets in the Hollow Market? Serve the Masters or defy them in the Warrens?)[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Affiliations:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](Are they bound to a faction or cause? Do they serve the Crimson Lords, or do whispers of rebellion reach their ears?)[/INDENT]
[HR][/HR]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Abilities & Strengths:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](What skills or supernatural gifts do they possess? Are they marked by the Crimson Pact?)[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Weaknesses & Curses:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT](The Pact does not grant power freely. What burdens do they carry? A thirst that cannot be controlled? A mind fractured by forbidden knowledge?)[/INDENT]
[HR][/HR]
[B][COLOR=maroon]Personality:[/COLOR][/B]
[HR=3][/HR]
[B][COLOR=maroon]History & Secrets:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENTBiography! Secrets! [/INDENT]
[HR=3][/HR]
[B][COLOR=maroon]What He Seeks:[/COLOR][/B]
[INDENT] Motivations go here, what drives them? What do they seek?[/INDENT]
[HR=3][/HR]
[CENTER][SIZE=15px][B][COLOR=maroon]Spooky Bloodveil saying here.[/COLOR][/B][/SIZE][/CENTER]
[/SPOILER]
Beyond counting, yet he remains eternally vibrant
Appearance:
Erasmus is a vision of indulgence, wrapped in velvet and crimson-lined finery. His silver rings glint beneath candlelight, each said to hold a forgotten oath. His skin is ashen, though his lips are always stained red—as if he had only moments ago partaken in some exquisite feast. His eyes, sharp and predatory, gleam with knowing amusement, forever weighing the worth of those who stand before him.
District of Residence:
The Hollow Market
Occupation:
Master of Commerce, Keeper of Bloodveil's Bargains
Affiliations:
Bound to the Crimson Pact, yet loyal only to his own gain
Abilities & Strengths:
Silver-Tongued Dealmaker: Erasmus possesses an uncanny ability to sense desire and vulnerability, making his bargains nearly irresistible.
Eternal Merchant: He trades in more than coin—knowledge, favors, and blood itself are all part of his ever-growing inventory.
Crimson Feast: Unlike lesser vampires, he does not simply drink—he savors, refining his indulgences into an art, allowing him to draw more than just sustenance from his victims.
Weaknesses & Curses:
Bound by the Pact: While Erasmus plays the game with unmatched skill, he is still a prisoner to Bloodveil's eternal rule.
Price of Power: Every bargain he seals deepens the weight upon his soul, dragging him ever closer to something unknowable.
The True Cost: Though he always ensures the price is fair, Erasmus cannot control what the Pact demands in return. Some exchanges leave marks that never heal.
Personality:
Erasmus thrives on indulgence. He is charming, smooth, and eerily perceptive, knowing precisely what each individual desires before they even utter a word. His presence is intoxicating, his voice a lullaby of veiled promises. Yet beneath the laughter and fine silks, Erasmus is calculating, his motives forever shifting just beyond reach. He is not cruel—at least, not openly—but he is never truly merciful either.
History & Secrets:
Once a merchant of Varnen's Gate, Erasmus bargained for wealth beyond imagination, sealing a pact that ensured his empire would never crumble. What he did not foresee was that this wealth would come at the cost of mortality itself. Now, he remains at the heart of Bloodveil's ever-turning game, amassing riches that are measured not in coin, but in the debts written upon the souls of those who dare make deals with him.
What He Seeks:
Erasmus plays a game of endless trade, reveling in the exchange of power, knowledge, and secrets. But beneath the charm and cunning, there is a lingering question—one even he hesitates to answer. What happens when he no longer finds satisfaction in the bargains he makes?
Vampire—though some question if she is something beyond even that
Bloodline:
House Veyne—The Unseen Hand
Age:
Timeless; none living recall her as mortal
Appearance:
Lady Veyne is an enigma of elegant restraint. Draped in flowing black silks, she never lifts the veil that obscures her features, yet her presence is undeniable. When she moves, she does so without sound—effortless, weightless, like a shadow passing through moonlight. Her eyes burn like dim embers beneath the veil, their gaze piercing, knowing. Those who stand in her presence feel as though she sees more than what is shown—reading the truths they dare not speak.
District of Residence:
The Shrouded Quarter
Occupation:
Ruler of Bloodveil's noble houses, Keeper of Silent Influence
Affiliations:
Bound utterly to the Crimson Pact, yet her thoughts remain her own
Abilities & Strengths:
Silent Dominion: Lady Veyne never speaks aloud—yet all who stand before her hear her voice, woven directly into their thoughts.
Veil of Secrets: She sees beyond deception, uncovering truths before they are spoken. It is said she knows the thoughts of all within Bloodveil.
Eternal Watcher: Her presence stretches beyond the physical, lingering even when she is nowhere to be seen. Some suspect she is not bound to Bloodveil, but rather, it is bound to her.
Weaknesses & Curses:
Bound to Silence: Whatever bargain she struck to ascend to her current existence, it has robbed her of speech—her words now carried only through unseen forces.
The Weight of Knowing: She cannot shut out what she perceives. The suffering, the plots, the truths—she feels them all, unceasing.
The Pact's Chains: Lady Veyne is perhaps the closest thing to Bloodveil's embodiment. And if the Crimson Pact were ever broken, what would become of her?
Personality:
Lady Veyne is not cruel, nor is she merciful—she simply is. She governs Bloodveil's nobility without force, yet none dare disobey her. There is no malice in her gaze, only the weight of knowing, the burden of carrying every whispered secret. She does not scheme like Erasmus Duskbane or seek deeper truths like Velcor Thorne. She merely ensures that the game continues, that Bloodveil does not collapse beneath its own darkness. There are those who believe she is the only thing keeping the city from becoming something worse than what it already is.
History & Secrets:
There are few records of Lady Veyne before Bloodveil. Some claim she was once a mortal ruler, one who struck the most costly bargain of all. Others whisper that she has always been here, waiting for the city to arrive at its inevitable fate. Whatever the truth, it is buried beneath centuries of silence, locked behind the veil she never lifts.
What She Seeks:
Lady Veyne does not seek power—she has it. Nor does she seek escape, for she is Bloodveil as much as Bloodveil is her. But there is something in the way she watches the city, something lingering beneath her quiet rule. Does she yearn for something lost? Or does she simply wait—patient, eternal—for the inevitable unraveling of the pact?
Vampire—though some say time has unraveled him into something else
Bloodline:
House Thorne—The Keepers of the Forgotten
Age:
Ancient, though his form wavers as if caught between time
Appearance:
Velcor is more shadow than man, his presence stretched thin between moments. His gaunt frame is wrapped in tattered robes, their edges frayed as if unraveling into the air itself. His hollow eyes glow faintly, flickering like dying embers, and when he moves, it is not always certain that he arrives where he began. His fingers are unnaturally long, ink-stained and claw-like, meant for grasping at truths few dare to touch.
District of Residence:
The Forgotten Warrens
Occupation:
Archivist of Bloodveil's buried secrets, Keeper of the Lost Histories
Affiliations:
Bound to the Crimson Pact, yet his loyalty is only to knowledge
Abilities & Strengths:
The Hollow Mind: Velcor perceives truths buried deep, uncovering secrets others seek to forget.
Warden of the Forgotten: He knows the names of those lost, the stories erased from Bloodveil's surface. Nothing truly vanishes from his archive.
Presence Between Moments: Time does not bind Velcor as it does others—his movements seem fractured, as though he steps between past and present.
Weaknesses & Curses:
Fractured in Time: Velcor has touched truths even Bloodveil struggles to contain. His mind is splintered, forever drifting between knowing and madness.
Burdened by Memory: He does not forget—ever. The weight of every lost soul lingers in his thoughts, pulling him ever deeper into his archive.
Bound to the Warrens: Whether by choice or by the Pact, Velcor cannot leave the Forgotten Warrens. Something ties him there, unseen and unbreakable.
Personality:
Velcor is neither kind nor cruel—he is simply inevitable. His words come slow, deliberate, as if pulled from places no longer meant to be spoken of. He does not play games like Erasmus or enforce silence like Lady Veyne. He only watches, listens, and waits for those willing to pay the cost of knowing too much.
History & Secrets:
Once a scholar in Varnen's Gate, Velcor sought truths beyond mortal understanding. When the Crimson Pact took hold, he did not resist—it welcomed him as much as he welcomed it. But in uncovering Bloodveil's secrets, he has lost something of himself. Now, he remains in the catacombs of the Warrens, searching for answers even he does not fully understand.
What He Seeks:
Velcor is bound to the histories of Bloodveil, collecting whispers, unraveling lies. But beneath his watchful gaze, there lingers a deeper question—what happens when he finds the truth he cannot bear to know?
Mortal—though whispers suggest her soul is tethered to something unseen
Bloodline (if noble):
None, yet remnants of an ancestor's debt linger just beneath the surface
Age:
Thirty-six, though time folds strangely around her
Appearance:
Auspicious Night moves like a specter caught between moments—deliberate, silent, always watching. Her deep auburn hair falls in wild waves, streaked with ink, often loosely gathered as though untouched by vanity. Her skin is pale, her fingers perpetually stained with pigment, and her silver-gray eyes hold a distant, knowing gaze. There is something unsettling about her presence, as if she is perpetually caught between being seen and being forgotten.
District of Residence:
The Forgotten Warrens—where secrets are kept, and old stories refuse to die
Occupation:
Painter, Archivist of Fading Faces, Keeper of Silent Truths
Affiliations:
Unaligned, though Lady Veyne watches her—not as a ruler, but as something far more deliberate
Abilities & Strengths:
Inkbound Sight: Her paintings whisper truths that should not be known, memories that should have faded.
Unerring Observation: Bloodveil moves, and she watches its every shift, its every breath.
Resilience in Shadows: She has endured the city's suffocating weight without bending to its will. For now.
Weaknesses & Curses:
Marked by the Past: A bargain tied to her lineage remains unsettled, and Bloodveil will not forget.
Whispers of the Veil: Her art has begun shifting—not by her hand, but by something else. She has yet to understand what calls to her.
Fractured Autonomy: Bloodveil does not easily release those who peer too deeply into its history, and Auspicious stands closer to the truth than most.
Connection to Lady Veyne:
It began with a painting. One that was never meant to exist.
Auspicious Night had not intended for it to be different than the others—another portrait of a forgotten soul, another quiet echo bound to canvas. But when she stepped back, she saw the mistake.
The veil had lifted.
For a fleeting instant, the painting did not depict Lady Veyne as she appeared, but as she truly was beneath the silken shroud. And Auspicious understood something she was never meant to see.
Since that night, her art has become restless, shifting in ways she does not control. Lady Veyne has not spoken of it, nor has she condemned it. Instead, she watches—as if waiting for Auspicious to complete something that has not yet begun.
The bond between them is unspoken yet unyielding. Is she meant to uncover what Lady Veyne has spent eternity concealing? Or was she chosen to ensure that secret remains buried forever?
Personality:
Auspicious Night is quiet, composed, and deeply perceptive. She does not seek power, nor does she claim defiance—she only exists within Bloodveil's unrelenting gaze. Her art is both refuge and burden, capturing truths she may wish she had not uncovered. She values autonomy above all, yet even she wonders how long she will be permitted to keep it.
History & Secrets:
She arrived in Bloodveil with no intention of staying, yet something unseen bound her here. Her ancestors were creators, craftsmen who wove intent into objects, into paintings, into artifacts of significance. That legacy remains, hidden beneath ink and whispers. Somewhere deep within the Warrens, her name is already written, waiting to be acknowledged.
What She Seeks:
Distance from Bloodveil's creeping grasp, truth without chains, the freedom to remain unseen. But Bloodveil does not forget, and neither do the shadows that linger near her work.
Mortal- though his black soul bares a horrible curse
Age:
Looks to be mid-thirties, but by the light of the candle he looks much older
Appearance:
Waylon has the bearing of a man of wealth, always wearing suits, keeping a clean appearance. This is not the man who came to Bloodveil. At a glance one might mistake Waylon for a wild man, with his mane of long black hair and wild beard. He looks only a bit less feral when his hair is tied back. His clothes are simple, worn boots with jeans and a flannel button-down shirt. Over his heart are strange black markings he does not understand. It aches at times and the marks seem to be slowly spreading.
District of Residence:
Although he made his way into Bloodveil through The Veilwood, Waylon now wanders the Forgotten Warrens.
Occupation:
Waylon makes his way in the city by doing odd jobs for others. Delivering messages, or threats. Passing along information. Transporting goods. It isn't much, but I keeps him alive.
Affiliations:
Waylon has no official ties, although the hunters have tried again and again to recruit him. The Nobles do not look kindly upon him, but so as he knows they have made no moves against him yet.
Abilities & Strengths:
Supernatural Strength: Stronger than a normal man, when angered his strength grows unbound Wrong Place, Right Time: Seems to find himself in situations that should get him killed, but he survives and learns Bestial Soul: On the rare occasion he ventures back into The Veilwood, the creatures there do not bother him
Weaknesses & Curses:
Lost Memories: Waylon cannot remember anything before exiting The Veilwoods, and trying to do so causes him pain Recurring Nightmare: In his dreams Waylon sees the faces of the dead, but cannot remember their names. The one face he does recognize seems to be that of Velcor Thorne All Roads Lead to Ruin: The city of Bloodveil has trapped the truth within its shadows and threatens Waylon with self-destruction should he seek them out
Personality:
Waylon is a quiet, observant man who would rather avoid a fight but is quick to finish one should find himself in such a situation. He seems to not have a true grasp of his strength and tends to hold back whenever possibly. Not doing so results in great harm or destruction of property. He has been known to turn down well paying jobs if he feels there is nothing in it for him beyond the wealth.
History & Secrets:
Months ago, or was it years now? Waylon can no longer remember, a man was found wandering out of The Veilwoods, dressed in tatters, raving about the shadows in the dark. At first he could recall nothing, but with time he regained his name, at least, though it seemed no one within Bloodveil knew it, or at least would not admit to knowing it.
Before his arrival in the city, Waylon had been a business man, always traveling for work, no time to start a family. No reason to think about his own family, or their secrets. Not until a strange conversation during a layover in a city he had never visited before lead him to a bar, and then into the strange woods where he wandered long enough to lose his mind.
What He Seeks:
To regain his memories and learn who set him on this path in the first place and make them pay
A trelykos, called a Trinitarian Lycanthrope, or called also simply a werewolf - a race of mortals with special powers of instinct and transformation.
Bloodline (if noble):
Not of noble birth, yet bound by enthrallment to House Veyne.
Age:
Twenty-five winters since birth; seven, more or less, since arriving in the city; almost four since his enthrallment.
Appearance:
Zevlan has sharp, golden eyes, rough like flakes panned from a mountain stream—though hardship and his enslavement has dimmed their sheen somewhat. His teeth are shining white and his canines are quite prominent, visible when brandished in his frequent grins and snarls. They're similar to vampiric fangs, but clearly distinct—they're wider, spaced further apart, clearly meant for tearing and cutting rather than puncturing and sucking. His hair, grown down to his shoulders is black and straight—usually left clean but unkempt, or occasionally tied back in a ponytail or bun. Zevlan speaks with a distinctive voice—clearly youthful, yet raspy, somewhat deep, quite masculine—with an accent and a slightly affected grammar from his foreign origins (think something like Czech, Greek, Polish, or another from that area of Southeast/Eastern Europe).
Unless otherwise instructed by his mistress, Zevlan tends to wear clothes that are stylish but practical, notably baggy and loose, the better to facilitate his shifts between his various forms. While fitted suits look great on him, there's only so many times you can take the same item back to the tailor before they stop seeing you, no matter how much you pay…
In Canis form, Zevv takes on the body of a large, melanistic Eurasian wolf with golden eyes, matching the hair and eye color of his human appearance. The wolf is natural, powerful, graceful and, given the right context, could even be described as "cute".
His fur is, as it appears, quite clean and fluffy. Generally, Zevv does not mind being pet in this form by people he likes, or even by friendly strangers if he's in a good mood—he makes particular amusing sport by messing with any brave children that will occasionally try to work up the courage to pat the massive "dog". That said, he also does not hesitate to snap, growl, and bark at unwelcome touch, no matter who the hand belongs to. Platonic touch is fine, but erotic contact in this form is a complete non-starter for Zevv, and will earn you a vicious mauling if attempted.
He also likes to howl in this form. Loudly. At the Moon, usually, though sometimes at nothing in particular if he's seriously bored.
A nightmare.
District of Residence:
The Shrouded Quarter, either within or not far from Lady Vayne's residence.
Occupation:
Zevlan is bound as a Servant, enthralled to Lady Veyne. He serves The Unseen Hand as a general aide in her affairs, a domestic, a living weapon, a messenger, an intelligence operative, a pet—whatever she requires or demands, Zevv quite literally has no choice but to obey and provide.
Affiliations:
As Zevlan serves Lady Veyne, along with her almost by definition he serves the Crimson Pact. Sitting at the top of the dark pyramid, he brushes shoulders with all the Crimson Lords and their Houses, though only as a victim, and not with the omniscience of his mistress—what little power he has in the world of vampires is solely due to her.
At one point, Zevlan stalked the Warrens and was one of the Hunters. Yet as time passes, and as word of whatever happened to "Golden" (as he was once known) filters through the Warrens, his contacts to that world have largely withered away—though perhaps, they are not yet fully gone...
And far, far away, in the uncivilized lands to the east where even the shadow of Bloodveil can only rarely reach, the Vasilaskis clan may still remember the name of the boy who left them nearly a decade ago… though their feelings towards him may be mixed.
Abilities & Strengths:
Tripartite Power of the Trelykoi
As a trelykos, Zevv has the ability to shift between three bodily forms, each with their own capabilities: Humanis, Canis, and Monstrum.
Zevlan's Humanis form is his "default", the shape, strengths, and weaknesses of a regular, albeit very physically fit and well-trained human male. Aside from excellent reflexes, slightly honed senses, and peak human-level strength, there is not much more to tell.
Humanis is the form which he prefers to eat and drink, to sing, to play and gamble, to think and converse, to fight, fuck, and otherwise go about his life. He may not be a human, strictly speaking, but he is still a man.
Zevlan is also familiar with the revolver, the coach gun (a short double-barrel shotgun), and the use large knives and hand-axes in his Humanis form, although his abilities are not at the level of the supernatural: they're simply those perfectly reasonable of a human with experience since childhood as a forester and a bandit.
Canis sees Zevlan take the form of a wolf—the natural, four-legged kind, related to the domestic dog. Though in this form he is bereft of the ability for speech and opposable thumbs, there are plenty of advantages.
For starters, to Zevv it is better to travel outdoors as a wolf—it faster and easier to navigate the narrow, winding streets of Bloodveil as a trotting, agile creature, with no need for clunky boots or carriages.
Indeed, his wolf form is particularly well-suited to pursuit due to the additional speed (able to run in bursts up to 40 MPH), and to tracking and investigation more generally, as he can enjoy heightened canine senses of smell and hearing in this form—more so than in Humanis, and without the mad red haze produced by his Monstrum form preventing him from making sense of it.
In Canis form, Zevv can also use his powerful wolf jaw as a weapon, or to carry things, like a regular canine might.
As an aside, Zevlan prefers to sleep in Canis form, finding it more comfortable and less likely to produce night-terrors than resting as Humanis (sleep is impossible while Monstrum).
This is what mortalkind once correctly feared about Zevlan's people, before they were relegated to half-remembered legend.
Upon the full Moon (or upon drinking a potion made of toxic purple lupine flowers), until the next day's dawn, trelykoi become… Monstrum.
Ten feet tall (though usually with a snarling, grasping slouch), broad as a barn door, coated in an armor of coarse fur and thick rough skin, a Monstrum is a shambling, gibbering, snarling, howling, nightmare of sinew and tooth and claw—a hateful, bloody incarnation of animalistic hunger and mindless rage. Able to lift and toss around heavy carriages, their fangs and claws like vicious, jagged sabers, capable of battering down all but the sturdiest doors and barricades, for sheer strength, a Monstrum is one of the most terrifyingly powerful creatures in the world.
While this does indeed make trelykoi Monstrums excellent on the battlefield, the transformation causes them to lose their minds for the duration. They will try to slaughter anything in sight: not just prey or enemies, but also any innocents, friends and allies, those you are sworn to protect, even closest loved ones: if you are in sight or scent or earshot, you are not safe. Only extremely powerful magic—such as vampiric enthrallment—can abate this drive of madness and spare those who otherwise would not be. As such, trelykoi in fights tend not to transform themselves into Monstrum, unless they are alone and surrounded or are very, very desperate.
Zevlan typically is only a Monstrum when he is forced to be, by the light of the full Moon—though as mentioned a lupine flower potion can also provoke a transformation. While in theory he can summon this form at any time, to simply be made a Monstrum is extremely taxing and exhausting on the body: proper recovery requires plenty of food—meat, ideally—and rest, for at least a full day after (and all of this is to say nothing of the madness that comes with it, which Zev knows well and has a healthy fear of). As a practical matter, even if he wanted to, Zevv cannot transform into his Monstrum form more than once or twice a week at most, without falling seriously ill and being made comatose—potentially, if done enough, permanently.
Weaknesses & Curses:
Moon's Burning Essence: As a race, trelykoi such as Zevlan have a unique vulnerability to the application of silver. When worn over or as a part of clothes, it prevents voluntary transformations, and turns involuntary ones into drawn-out, agonizing ordeals. When pressed against the skin, it burns, twinges, shocks, irritates in the manner of a weak Galvanic cell—deeply uncomfortable, but bearable if limited. If ingested, it is a nauseating and deadly poison, inducing bloody vomiting. If breaching the skin and mixing with the blood, it acts as an acid and a quick-striking venom.
The only known cure is a potion of toxic lupine flower—deadly to humans. It is effective and simple, but be warned: any trelykoi, no matter how weakened by silver, which drinks of the lupine flower will become a powerful, uncontrollable Monstrum until the next sunrise.
Wild, Feral, Uncontrollable: As mentioned before, when in Monstrum form, Zevlan will be unable to tell friend from foe, driven only by hunger and hatred, except for…
Leashed by The Unseen Hand: Zevlan in particular suffers under his enthrallment to Lady Veyne, cursed under the arch-vampiress' He is unable to directly harm her or to disobey her commands.
Personality:
Zevlan is by nature temperamental, emotional, passionate. He wears his heart on his sleeve—as such, he is currently a brooding, sullen, ill-tempered creature, frequently angry and depressed, on account of his continued and deeply despised enthrallment. Loving his friends deeply and fiercely, hating his enemies with fire and venom, Zevv is not one to quickly forget a kindness nor to forgive a slight. Outside the realm of his emotions, however, he has a poor memory, and tends to live in the moment.
Not an intellectual by any means, he nevertheless has a natural curiosity and an urbane, open-yet-sardonic worldview. Though Zevlan is disdainful of money, he takes a gleefully hedonistic enjoyment of his material pleasures—he likes to drink (with a particular yen for vodka and strong botanicals), his appetite for feasting is near limitless, he's easy and eager with sex (though can occasionally get possessive of favored partners), he loves poetry, the theater, and music (and can sing and play the guitar well himself), he likes a good fight, and he's willing to try anything once if it seems like fun. Despite this image of a debauchee, Zevlan takes the honing and development of his own skills seriously, and he has a strong sense of justice which gives him a deep happiness from seeing things made—in his view, anyways—fair. He feels a natural sense of belonging with rebels, and those who seek to change the world for the better.
History & Secrets:
In distant lands far to the east, Zevlan was born to a pack of wolves, a band of nomadic travelers, traders and bandits, and a nightmarish hunt of monsters—all the same group, the Vasilaskis Clan of trelykoi, who still living in their native lands in the traditional fashion by hunting and camping in the forest, alternately trading with and savaging those they lived around. Zevlan had a happy enough boyhood as such a creature—but when a trelykos becomes a territorial man, the world shrinks indeed. Fascinated by stories of the larger world since he was young enough to remember them, Zevv had no interest at all in battling for the same old woods and stones: at eighteen, he struck out on his own, seeking the city of vampires (which old trelykoi legends held as their ancient enemies) for fame, fortune, and fulfillment.
As it turned out, the urban life in Bloodveil suited Zevv, and he quickly fell in relatively easily with the shadowy but fun-loving crowd of mortal rebels who made up the Hunters of the Warrens. There, he learned more about the city he was making his home, and even managed to snuff out the life of a few lesser vampires in his career. His bright, odd-colored eyes earned him the nickname Golden, and it was under this nickname that he made a number of Hunter friends and earned a reputation for enthusiasm in the hunt and for good-natured camaraderie.
Not long after his twenty-first naming day, however, things took a turn. Rumor had been swirling that Lady Veyne, the mysterious woman who seemed to live at the dark heart of the web of vampiric nobility that ruled the city, would be traveling near the Warrens and thus vulnerable to an ambush. If this was not set as a trap, it might as well have been: many Hunters were killed in the street-battles that broke out between them and the Lady's retinue. Zevlan himself managed to separate Veyne from the rest of the melee, and was inches away from actually striking a killing blow… but his instincts betrayed him, she found an opening, and sunk her fangs into his neck.
Yet, this did not kill Zevlan: instead, something far worse happened.
Lady Veyne seems to have taken an interest in this strange young creature—no normal human, but something altogether different—and instead of draining him of his blood, she injected venom into his mind, his nerves, and his soul: she made him a Servant, a thrall for her personal use. Unable to harm her, forced to obey her every command, the murderous Hunter beast was tamed—quite against his will.
It's been like that ever since, for nearly four years now—it's a bitter anniversary that now he has spent more time in Bloodveil under her thumb than free. Though he has since become familiar with the treatment and his new "home" alongside the Veiled Lady, he still is learning a few tricks, and the wounds of being enslaved are still quite raw…
What He Seeks:
Zevlan seeks three things and three things only, likely to be achieved in this order:
1. To get release from his enthrallment to Lady Veyne, by any means necessary (save for his own death),
2. To find companionship and love—ideally with a new pack one of his own kind, but a kindred spirit from another race will do,
3. To rip out the throat of every vampiric parasite in Bloodveil with his fucking teeth, and burn this Godsforsaken city to the ground.
Nothing can be chained forever… in the end, there is only freedom, and death.
