Corvus

[Corvus]

The Basics Race: Ethaefal, Son of Leth Reborn: 10th of Fall, 511 | Appears to be 28 Gender: Male Languages: Fluent Common | Fluent Fratava Hair and Horn Color Winter colors: White Hair | Black Horns Fall colors: Pale Gold Hair | Amber Horns Spring colors: Silvery Blue Hair | White Horns Summer colors: Black Hair | Emerald Horns

[Corvus]

Physical Description When the moon rises in the sky, Corvus's marble skin gleams from the pale slivers of light Leth casts on Mizahar. His horns and hair reflect the color of the season; white hair and black horns in winter, pale gold hair and amber horns in the fall, silvery blue hair and white horns in spring, and black hair with emeral horns during the summer. He carries the statuesque column of his body with grace, walking with confidence in his stride. In his Ethaefal form, he's as close to his god and the world he left behind, as he's able to get without actually being able to touch the heavens. A sense of peace settles into him during the night, lending him the ability to be content with a slower pace of life. When he's in that mode, his mind is open to learning new things, meeting new people and interacting with his surroundings in a way that's not possible in his human form. Only in his Ethaefal body, is he able to set aside the the difficulties that plague his daytime form and forge a future full of possiblity until he's learned to control his human body.

[Corvus]

Past Life When Syna takes over the heavens, his celestial body disappears, leaving him a husk of his true form. As he shrinks closer to the ground, his horns recede, his hair dulls to the color of corn silk and his cobalt eyes melt into icy blue pools. A tattoo of a large cat spills over his shoulder and down his tanned chest. He has no idea when he got it. The hardest part of his adjustment to living on Mizahar is the change in his body. His human form is sluggish and clumsy; it takes concentration to control it. His mind and his body are slower, making him moody and snappy when he's in it. Since he so recently fell, he doesn't remember much of his past life; what few images have come to him have been vague and garbled. His missing memories don't affect who he his. He already knows the most important things about that life. He lived in it. He died in it. He's over it. Secret PastHe's a Kelvic/Svefra mix and appears to be entirely Svefra.

[Corvus]

Character Concept Corvus is suffering through having been birthed from his perfect world where he was warm, safe and protected, into the cold, harsh, lonely world of Mizahar. He's been here such a short time that his feelings are a chaotic mess. He's clinging to the god he fell from with everything he's got, but his heart is torn. The crash course he's on is the only way he'll learn what life is really like in this new world, but his mind needs to grow before he'll be able to figure out what and who he believes in now. In his human form he's sometimes unhappy because he's still learning how to use that body. He thinks it's as ugly as it is unusable. It's going to take a long time for him to get comfortable with all of his parts. In the meantime, he's determined to learn everything he can about the world and himself. He wants to challenge the body he's been given, test its limits and see how far he can push himself before he breaks it. He's got all the time in the world to figure it out. His patience with others runs deep, especially in his Ethaefal form which makes him a good teacher. In time, he may find himself one. For now, he's on the road to knowledge through experience, falling into the path of new things as they come. Sometimes moody, sometimes quiet, sometimes moodily quiet; it's hard to know how he'll feel any given moment; frequent meditation is his way of bridging the gap between his two bodies. Every event that happens molds him into the person he's becoming. His new life is is being shaped through his encounters.

[Corvus]

Teachings   Personal Magic Personal Magic Morphing | 15/100 Novice | Starting Package Flux | 5/100 Novice | Starting Package Projection | 5/100 Novice | Starting Package   Combat Combat Unarmed Combat | 10/100 Novice | Starting Package   Knowledge Knowledge Astronomy | 10/100 Novice | Racial Bonus Meditation | 10 /100Novice | Starting Package   Wilderness Wilderness Riding | 5/100 Novice | Starting Package Lores Teaching What Most Needs to be Learned Learning Things the Hard Way

[Corvus]

Possessions   Clothing Clothing Wool Gray Hooded Cloak White Cotton Shirt Leather Gloves Tan Cotton Pants Boots Beaded Rope Necklace (unclear where he got it)   Tools Tools Large 4 Person Tent Large Tarp 100 ft of Rope Lantern 2 Torches Bedroll & Blanket Fishing Tackle & Hooks Full Set of Tack Large Set of Saddlebags. Backpack Comb Razor Soap Food for a Week Eating Knife Flint & Steel   Weapons Weapons Sap Pommel Dagger   Companions Companions Izar | Colorsplash Riding Horse

[Corvus]

Ledger Deposit Description Withdrawl Description Total 100 gm Starting Package - - 100 gm - - 10 gm Dagger 90 gm

[Corvus]

Threads Fall Five Eleven AV Date Thread Those Present Result 10 Birth Pains Ifram - 11 Dawn Breaks, A New Beginning Ifran - 53 The Light Of Day Ishkaral - 54 Traveling by Boat to Zeltiva 87 Arrival by Boat in Zeltiva 89 Next to Godliness Cora -

[Corvus]

Tenth of Fall Five Eleven AV Rebirth The First Night Tethered. Warm. Oblivious. His last real thoughts before he slipped through the crack that should have been sealed; rushing through the fabric that wasn’t woven tight enough to hold him, towards an end he could not even fathom. Where was his god as he was being ripped away from the life that he’d earned; raped right under his majestic nose? The band around his chest tightened. All of it was gone, left behind him. Memories faded, then disappeared as he plunged at a vicious clip into an empty world, taking his last minute bitterness with it. The feeling of warmth being cocooned in a celestial womb had been violently stripped away in the pause of a heartbeat. First cold. Then terror. In that order. There was nothing in between. No more tumbling memories to know were being lost. When he hit the water with a sickening splash, pain splintered his senses. He clawed for the surface, but wasn't able to gain purchase in the nothing that stretched around him. More of the cold. Arms and legs he didn’t remember how to use flailed frantically, feeling slowly seeping back into them; an army of pin pricks marched under his skin, setting it on fire. Fire in the cold made it burn. In the inky depths of that despair, he thrashed, struggling to pull air into lungs that didn’t work, in a body that was built for the heavens. He was too alone and too afraid to lift the heavy curtain of lashes that covered his eyes. His jaw worked wildly, sucking in mouthfuls of the water surrounding him, the salt was like a sponge, pulling out the moisture on his tongue. The sea rocked him like the swaying hips of a mother in labor, pushing him closer to the surface. He kept his eyes clenched tight, too afraid to know what was closing in around him. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to stay. He was terrified of both worlds, locked up in his own prison. All he wanted was the warmth of the one he left. There was no warmth here. How could he make this bad dream disappear? He fought against his lungs, holding his breath, trying to stay below the water. A nagging in his gut begged him to stay where he was, to fight against his instincts, to stay in the water forever. It didn't matter that every cell in his body cried out for release before he drowned. On the next thrust of the sea, he broke the surface. As he came up through the surf, his eyes were wrenched open and stung by the salty waves crashing down around his horns. He opened his mouth to yell, but no words came to him. There was no language he remembered. His red, swollen eyes, rounded wide with fear. Another push from the full belly of the pregnant sea and his listless body was forced out, pushed forward by another rolling wave. He was too tired to fight, but he couldn’t stop until he wore himself out. His eyes brimmed with the sting of tears. By the time he crashed toward the shore, his body was shuddering with the cold and the effort of dying.