Lucas Crane

[Lucas Crane]

Lucas Crane Appearance Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 24 Birthday: 23rd of Spring, 490 Birthplace: Kenash Appearance: Lucas has short black hair and grey eyes, which are one of his most striking features. Another is a crude, ‘S’-shaped brand on his right pectoral, which he conceals whenever possible. He stands at 6’ tall with a weight of 185lbs. He has well-defined muscles and calloused hands, indicative of his experience with manual labor. He also has Nikali's mark, a wine-coloured chain that starts just below his navel and coils loosely around his body until just above the middle of his right thigh. Character Concept Due to his gnosis, Lucas has a rather peculiar personality: he finds it very difficult to develop his own desires, and wants to find someone whose goals he can support. He considers himself a parasite of sorts and is deeply ashamed of this aspect of his personality. Still he has come to accept it as a part of himself and searches for the perfect host for his parasitic drive. Likes: Depends on who he's talking to, but will usually include animals Dislikes: Depends on who he's talking to, but will usually include sex, compliments about his eyes, disloyalty Character History When Lucas was 10 years old, his parents sold him into slavery. The child was not so young that he could not understand the change in his circumstances, or the reason they came about, and so remembers his parents as the morally bankrupt people they were. He was treated quite cruelly, despite his young age and did many things to survive. He had realised early on that he needed to be useful and compliant if he was to survive, and that formed the core of his personality as he entered into puberty. Just as he started to become a young adult, the events that culminated in his marking by Nikali transpired and can be read below. (WARNING: He was marked by Nikali because his life became too torturous to endure. It is not a pleasant read.) Marked by Nikali : “The petchin’ animal! He bit me!” the cry of pain rang out almost as loudly as the sound of the man’s wrist violently connecting with Lucas’ jaw. Immediately, Lucas tasted iron filling his mouth, just as the initial numbness of the hit spread across his left cheek. It had been many years since he had become the property of the slavers before him, sold by his own low-life parents. He had accepted his place in life – after all he had had no other choice. A ten year-old could hardly have been expected to offer much resistance, not if he wanted to survive. He had got used the nigh-ceaseless work, the exhaustion, the hunger. Just as he was becoming a young adult, however, something began shifting. It started very innocuously. He was performing one of his usual menial tasks and accidentally made eye contact with one of the head slavers. He had averted his gaze immediately and bowed his head deeply in apology, but this was very taboo and he had expected to be punished severely for such a misstep. Much to his surprise that was not the case. Instead, the following day onwards he began receiving double portions of food. Though suspicious, he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The malevolent smiles of some of the older, more experienced slaves went all but unnoticed by him. Over the months his body, initially gaunt and malnourished began to fill out, the muscles to develop. His health, stamina and overall well-being improved and for the first time in a long time he felt content in his existence. He felt he was somehow special, that his work was superior to that of other slaves, that, somehow, he had gained approval, had been seen! It was, in all earnestness, one of the happiest times of his life. The other slaves began to grow jealous of him, and he received a lot of enmity from them, but he was both stronger, younger and better fed, so this left him largely unconcerned. Around that time was when the other shoe finally dropped. Lucas was called into a private area of the slavers’ complex. He hadn’t even suspected that something untoward was about to happen to him, that his life was about to return to the downward spiral he hadn’t realised it had never left. He was ordered to strip, which was common for health inspections and didn’t immediately cause him to raise his hackles. But then he was requested to pleasure his masters, sexually. In spite of everything he had endured to that time, all he had given up, he had yet managed to hold onto his pride and he clung to it then with all he had. That night he fought off his assailants and managed to withstand them till he was returned, beaten, to the slave hold. There he was greeted with jeers from his fellow slaves and more violence had seemed likely, but he had had enough fight in him left to keep them away. It was finally clear to all, Lucas particularly, what his true status was. Two of Leth’s cycles had passed since then, and, evident from his continued resistance even after several beatings, his spirit had not been broken. “Petch!” yelled the slaver in frustration, clutching his bleeding, bitten fingers. He was a middle-aged man, yet one could immediately feel an aura of danger emanating from him that was usually reserved for the criminally insane. “Maybe we should jus’ put this rabid dog out of its misery, eh?” he spat, meeting Lucas’ dangerously glinting eyes with his own. “Don’t yeh look at me like that! Maybe we should jus' poke ‘em out, eh?” One of his cohorts lazily spoke up to calm him “No, not the eyes. They’re his selling point. It’s just so difficult to find that color.” A hint of annoyance crept into the man’s voice. “This is turning into a complete waste, I’m sad to say. He’s just so feral.” He spoke with the calm confidence of one used to the power of mizas, rather than physical strength, and yet felt just as dangerous as the other. “Perhaps we should… shift our intended market to something more… niche. There are some who would pay more for slaves with… adjusted bodies.” He added in a lower voice to his partner, and even he grimaced slightly with distaste. The first addressed Lucas once more, crouching down next to him. “Yeh know, yeh should look at this as an opportunity. Sex slaves tend to live longer and better than the lot you came from. Yeh’ll learn to love it once yeh accept it. Think on that a bit, eh.” He got up once more, approached one of the guards, and patted him on the shoulder with his injured hand. “Beat ‘im till he can’t move, to help the lesson sink in. Then toss ‘im back in the hold.” As both masters left the room, the guards worked in earnest to do just that. ------------------------ Some time after that, Lucas’ motionless body was roughly deposited in the center of the slave hold. Some blood flowed thinly from the corner of his swollen mouth, but the guards had been careful not to inflict fatal injuries, which had done nothing to detract from their thoroughness in accomplishing their assigned task: Lucas really had lost any ability to send strength to his limbs. His battered mind drew some small comfort from the fact that at least that day’s ordeal was finally over, and he could probably look forward to a few days of peace until his body recovered a bit. He tried to crawl towards his own cot, but failed. Some of the other slaves started to gather round. One went to help him. “Wait!” said Julian, a fellow slave, with a tone that made ice run through Lucas’ veins. “Shouldn’t we take this opportunity to celebrate Lucas’ promotion with him?” he said, dripping with malice. Without waiting for a response, he closed in. ----------------------- There was some abstract relief in that the beating had left him numb and dazed, which aided him in detaching himself from the surface of his consciousness and sinking deep within. As if very far away, phrases and sensations occasionally drifted to him, but nothing settled in the sediment of his mind. “Think ...was… virgin, his… bleedi…” He sank, lower and faster, burying himself as deep as he could, cutting himself off from his sensations, his reality, everything. In the darkness he became lost even to himself. ----------------------- Lucas found himself becoming groggily aware again in absolute darkness, a physical one this time. His whole body ached, but he didn’t want to think about his body, or himself. He felt some bile rising in his throat, but pushed it down. Desperately he desired the oblivion of unconsciousness. Yet, in that darkness in the depth of night without any light, Lucas became aware of a presence. He could not describe it exactly but he was certain of it nonetheless. And he could feel it approaching his prone form. He tried to back away from it, managing to lift himself on his elbows with excruciating effort, but simply could do no more than that and fell helpless back. Had that been the end then? Was his life going to be one series of decisions made for him and culminate in that final disgrace? He could almost laugh. Or cry. Or both. His eyes began adjusting to the darkness then, yet somehow the only thing that was becoming clearer was the figure of the presence approaching him. It was a woman, of that he was certain, and the outline of her figure suggested she was either naked, very close to it, or wearing extremely tight-fitting clothes. Even as the rest of her became easier and easier to discern, her face remained shrouded in darkness, however. Lucas became coldly certain he had completely lost his mind. There was no way a woman could have gotten into the slave hold, even if one had wanted to. He abstractly wondered if his mind had conjured this apparition to balance itself. Yet for a mind that had hardly even seen a naked woman, it was doing quite a good job of it. He was snapped out of his train of thought as the woman finally towered above his prone form. Now that she was this near, he could see both that she was indeed naked and why her face hadn’t been clear; she was wearing a mask of some sort. Yet from therein her eyes shone out brilliantly, and in them… Lucas weeped. Somehow, those eyes seemed to hold a promise: that he would achieve his greatest desires. The weirdest thing was that looking into them, he believed that to be true. “Huu, a yu?” He asked through swollen lips. She smiled at him then, reached out and held his face in her hand, passing her thumb lightly over them. A burst of pure pleasure came from them that surpassed all the pain in his body, and though he could still feel it there, he was ecstatic. She suddenly spoke, and her voice held within it the thrill of unknown and exotic spices. And, even, a hint of sadness. “Poor child. Battered and bruised, and yet not broken. Holding desperately onto your own desires. Use my, Nikali’s gift, and let them grow.” As she finished her small speech, she reached for his sides through the torn remnants of his clothes, and it was as if a blazing inferno was lit in his nether regions. Lucas lost himself to this overwhelming sensation, part pleasure part pain. By the time he had enough presence of mind to take in his surroundings once more, the goddess had already vanished into the darkness whence she’d come. He traced the burning sensation, which coiled like a rope around him, from just below his navel to just above the middle of his right thigh. Eventually, he was able to drift back into a fitful slumber, with a hope for the future that he had thought completely lost, and a resolve to reach it, no matter what it took. One day, upon returning from collecting wood for the evening fire, he found the encampment razed to the ground and the corpses of slavers and slaves alike left and right. He searched for survivors but either there were none, or they had all fled. Lucas gathered what supplies he could and made his way towards a less dangerous part of the world. After so long, he was a free man… and that terrified and exhilirated him in equal measures. As a marked of Nikali he knew that he could easily end up living a life filled with nothing but the basest of desires, and he wanted something more for himself. He somehow reached the Kabrin Road, where he joined a passing caravan and followed it to Syliras. The order of the Knights gave him hope for some direction, so he started training himself in the sword, but he found himself disappointed in their narrow views of justice. After a couple of years in Syliras, he joined a caravan to Riverfall as a guard, feeling an urgent need to get away from the crowded throngs of the city, and hoping to find something worthwhile before the choice was taken completely away from him. Timeline 490-500: Childhood, living with parents in Kenash 500-508: Adolescence, trained into slavery by the slave traders 508-511: Early adulthood, events leading to the marking and freedom 511-Summer of 513: Living in Syliras Winter of 513: Arrival in Riverfall Language Fluent Language: Common Basic Language: Fratava Poor Language: Tukant Skills Skill EXP Total Proficiency Acting 15 SP 15 Novice Stealth 20 SP 20 Novice Weapon: Longsword 15 RB, 15 SP 30 Competent Gnosis Ranuri I (Marked) From the wiki: A person marked by Nikali is granted the first level of Ranuri. This gnosis gives them a unique appeal or allure that people (of either sex) are drawn to inexplicably. They tend to be trusted more easily than others would be. People find them good listeners, while they have the ability to pick out the actual ‘trouble’ when someone confides a problem to them. Their gift, Ranuri, allows them to have a sense what the other person needs are regardless of what sort of need it is. This can be something as simple as a few hours of helping an elderly woman plant her spring flowers to knowing exactly what a partner’s preference is in a physical relationship. Above that, they can augment the pleasure a person feels in preforming a needed task, be it the same planting or mutual physical contact. Ranuri have a knack for being excellent salesmen because they tend to know immediately upon a handshake what a customer is looking for (whether the customer knows it or not). And they have a knack for making mutually profitable trades and arrangements of all kinds. At this level, Ranuri only works when the mark bearer is in direct contact (as in touching skin to skin) with the person who’s needs they seek to know. Casual contact, such as being brushed accidentally in a crowded market can be agony to a Ranuri because they are hit with wave upon wave of needs they feel compelled to perform. A Ranuri can resist these urges, but it takes a strong mental capacity. A Ranuri who is marked is restricted to providing for the needs of one individual at a time. Lores Nikali: Goddess of Lust, Pleasure, Servants, Slavery and Desire Sword Maintenance Possessions 1 Set of Clothing -Simple Shirt -Simple Pants -Simple Undergarments -Simple Cloak -Simple Boots -Pair of Leather Gloves -Studded Leather Armor -Necklace with half a gold miza, worn around the neck 1 Longsword 1 Waterskin 1 Backpack which contains: -Comb (Wood) -Brush (Wood) -Soap -Razor -Balanced Rations (1 Week's worth) -1 eating knife -Flint & Steel 59 Gold Mizas 90 Silver Mizas Heirloom: Half a Gold Miza Coin Necklace Housing Location: Riverfall House: 400 sq foot apartment at Atri’s Place Ledger Item Cost/Gain Total Starting +100 GM 100 GM Longsword -15 GM 85 GM Studded Leather Armor -25 GM 60 GM Leather Gloves (Pair) -10 SM 59.90 GM Thread List Thread Title Date Participants Description First day at The Almond Blossom 31, W, 513 AV Solo First day on the job Of Ranuri Bondage 55, W, 513 AV Caelum Lucas meets another Ranuri A Day of Waiting 73, W, 513 AV Solo A Normal Wintry day at the Almond Blossom Survivor's Day 1, Sp, 514 AV Chandray Lucas meets Chandray on the day of the festival