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Race: Akalak Gender: Male Age: 30 Birthday: 19, Spring, 485. Birthplace: Riverfall Occupation: Mercenary, currently employed by Jacinkto Valereig as caravan guard
Appearance:
Lazryn is a hulking seven foot three bulk of dark blue muscle, almost entirely devoid of body fat resulting in a very lean chiselled physique common amongst his kind. He wears his jet black hair fairly short and orderly, keeping no facial or body hair, instead his body and appendages are covered in the cuts and markings of decades of extreme training as to be expected of an Akalaks' upbringing. Though even for an Akalak, of his age, Lazryn bears an extraordinary amount of scar tissue. His eyes are a pale blue and are described by observers very differently from time to time, sometimes as two pools of unwavering blue that denote a keen observer, whilst at other times they are said to hold a strange taint of blood-thirst and savagery.
Character Concept
From the time that his training initially began Lazryn was identified as an intensely driven individual, even amongst the Akalak, and yet one of a dominatingly sombre attitude. Always the first to arrive and last to leave any form of physical training or exercise Lazryn wholeheartedly believes that one does not deserve to rest until exhaustion from exertion demands it. That being said he does not solely advocate physical exhaustion, but rather places great stock in, and spends many hours a day enriching his knowledge on the world around him as well as strengthening his mental fortitude. There are many Akalak whom are praised with the title of prodigy in regards to their skill at one thing or another, Lazryn on the other hand holds a prodigious talent for discipline and hard work.
His discipline is so great that even Wysar has taken notice, and has granted Lazryn his gnosis mark as a reward for his unwavering devotion to order and training. A blessing Lazryn is very grateful for, one with which comes a great ability which he works to hone daily alongside his other attributes.
In regards to his mental fortitude in particular Lazryn has spent a great deal of the past twelve years developing his ability to hold his dark brother Liyak within as much as possible. Due to his own circumstances Lazryn believes that there is no greater curse in the world than that of the dual souls within a singular Akalak body. It is this ‘curse’ and also this belief that has cause him develop such an outwardly solemn personality.
Lazryn is a steadfastly proud and honour-bound individual, whom has developed a, perhaps, unique perspective within his society. Although often seen as a loner and even at times a hermit, Lazryn values the opinions and words of others very highly indeed. Liyak on the other hand has no loyalties, or honour and knows neither shame nor pride. In all of their years together Liyak has never expressed the remotest interest in anything except in things that could have caused some form of misery, or extinction of any and all life. In perhaps the truest sense of the word Liyak is a fully blown Nihilist. Or, at least as far as Lazryn can tell from their very limited interactions he is anyway.
Due to the constant lingering presence of his dark brother, Lazryn has a somewhat darkened view of the world though keeps this an entirely guarded secret. To the outside observer he is simply a man of few, yet potent, words that prefers to keep his own company rather than that of others. Though that could be no further from the truth. It is his hope that one day he will be able to be confident enough in his ability to supress his dark brother to allow him more than casual passing relationships with those around him. Though, after meeting Wysar he began fostering a small hope that one day he may even begin having a cordial relationship with Liyak though that seems a very distant goal at the moment.
Lazryn’s hatred of his dark brother comes from many fundamental differences in their nature, but one which is surprising to many upon discovery is that whilst Liyak only seeks to take control when battle and murder are possible, Lazryn on the other hand does not enjoy fighting other intelligent beings whatsoever and only does so when absolutely necessary; as demanded by live-threatening-circumstance, honour or duty. He detests the thought of killing creatures that are capable of higher thought processes, and has only done so on very rare and extreme occasions. This aversion to combat often catches people off guard due to Lazryn’s great passion for all forms of training, including sparring matches, but in his eyes those are as similar to fights as kittens are to lions. Intentions are everything in his mind.
Lazryn currently carries out mercenary work on the side in order to pay for his living expenses, but looks to become a ranking member of the Kavran in the future so that he can better serve his city.
Character History
During the very early days of his training Lazryn was initially rather average in regards to skill and strength, though that changed drastically when his father was killed whilst out of the city hunting. Already possessing an astute and curious mind Lazryn could see no logic in this sudden loss in his life, and so threw himself into training fully in order to divert his attention from his emotional pain. In the coming weeks, and even years, he came to rationalize that if his father had trained more thoroughly his death could have been prevented.
From that moment on Lazryn was a man obsessed with bettering both his body and mind, considering studying literature the only form of worthwhile resting activities. The rest of his days were spent training in various weaponry, though he took a particular shining to unarmed combat as is common amongst his race.
By the time his Rite of trail came around Lazryn had distinguished himself amongst his peers as one of the most highly skilled in their age group, it was for this reason and also due to his unwavering scrutiny towards every detail within any given situation that once they set off Lazryn effectively took charge of the hunting party.
The party returned with a bird of a smaller stature and younger age than had been expected, though this may have been attributed to the fact two of the youths were injured with one of them being a severe case. Though he did not speak of it, and rarely does still, after the two youths sloppily attempted to ambush a rather nasty looking glassbeak, which ended badly, Lazryn prioritized the capture of any glassbeak over gaining the most status from the hunt. This was in order to ensure that all of the youths would survive the hunt, as he saw no honour in allowing his comrades to die for his own personal gain.
After declaring that he wished to pursue a career in the Kuvay'Nas, Lazryn began training more directly in the skills that would be required of such a lifestyle, though this was no great change to the way in which he currently lived.
Three years after his Rite of Trial Lazryn’s second personality emerged, in the form of the demon-esque Liyak. Liyak first emerged during a session of light sparring with a fellow Akalak, and his first act was to instantly attempt to end his sparring partner’s life by quickly ramping up the power and ferocity of his attacks. Luckily the instructor noticed the change in Lazryn’s fighting style and quickly intervened before the other youth was injured severely, though it took several men to fully subdue Liyak before Lazryn was able to resurface.
From that moment on Lazryn was constantly plagued by the worry that Liyak could emerge at any time, and that if he did he would definitely cause as much pain and heartache as he possibly could before he was stopped. On top of that Liyak had a way of disappearing for lengths of times, sometimes hours sometimes days, and then suddenly reappearing at the back of Lazryn’s mind whispering about Lazryn’s insecurities and uncertainties.
After the arrival of his new blood-thirsty lodger Lazryn began keeping to himself as much as possible, breaking his solitude only to train and for other necessities, and even then he would do so at a time when he was sure that there would be individuals present that would be capable of stopping any rampage he might go on should Liyak become dominant.
It would take years before Lazryn became confident in his ability to supress his dark brother, at least to the degree where he does not feel anxiety about leaving the house due to the fact he may be endangering others. That being said he is far from fully pleased with his level of self-control and is always looking to improve it.
When the time came for their Rite of Passage there were none amongst the Akalak that knew him that thought Lazryn would struggle with the physical aspect of the challenge set before him. Though those that knew him well, of which there were very few, thought that the stress and danger of his task might cause Liyak to surface and even they did not know what would happen if that were to occur.
Unfortunately Liyak did indeed surface during the hunt, though Lazryn did not share that with anyone nor the full details of his hunt other than the fight which ensued with the Zith he eventually slew.
One fateful night ten months after his rite of passage, during a night-watch over a local traders warehouse which had been repeatedly targeted over the preceding months Lazryn had a nasty encounter with a large group of criminals, but also an encounter with the God of his race Wysar whom both saved Lazryn’s life that night and blessed him with his divine mark. Wysar also began the very slow process of Lazryn trying to come to terms with Liyak, with no success thus far.
Now, one year on from their rite of passage Lazryn continues his training as rigorously as ever in the hopes of fulfilling his goal of being accepted into the ranking members of the Kuvay'Nas soon, and also of mastering his control over his dark brother...
Gnosis Thread :
It had been a hard day of training, as every day was, and for most that would be where the day would end but for Lazryn it was only beginning in some regards. He had been contracted by a local merchant to provide a one-man security detail for a storehouse which had been broken into several times over the past few months, the store owner had a valuable shipment of wine passing through it over the next few days and could not afford to lose it. Lazryn was known amongst the traders of Riverfall to charge a fairly small fee for jobs that allowed him to work in an environment where he would not be near the general public and so this was a common type of job for him.
In truth Lazryn wondered why the store owner didn’t hire a full time store guard considering this was a persisting issue, or why the guard patrolling this area of the city didn’t take particular care around the storehouse, assuming the storeowner had reported the previous break-ins. It kept him in work though, so Lazryn was content to keep this as a no more than a matter to ponder while he waited for the night to pass. He suspected that tonight’s watch would be as uneventful as the past three for which he had been paid, and if so that his services would not be requested any longer in this instance since this was to be the last night before the shipment of wine was sold in the morning.
Lazryn’s employer owned a modest general store in the lowest tier of Riverfall, the storeroom to which was in fact just the back room of the store though it benefitted from a secondary entrance accessible from a side-door to the shop. It was within the storeroom that Lazryn currently sat, upon a modest stool with his arms folded around his body and his eyes closed; though his mind was open, and his other senses were quite active. Just because the job was proving to be a quiet one did not call for the slacking on the job, that was inexcusable in Lazryn’s books, and there was still every chance that burglars might strike. In fact if they had knowledge of the business and its’ trade then they would know that tonight was their last chance to do so, therefore Lazryn had every reason to be on guard more so than usual if anything.
He had been sat upon this stool for several hours now, only rising every so often to stretch his legs by walking around the perimeter of the tiny room which acted as the store’s stock area. Each time he did so he also opened his eyes and saw the same scene, lit only by his infravision as he had extinguished all sources of light within the room as to disadvantage any would-be-burglars did not share his natural gift. That scene was one of a room comprised from stone with wooden shelves erected against each of the four walls, three levels in each set of shelves held a variety of boxed goods to be sold in the store out front. He paid special attention to the box marked for private sale in the back right corner, for he knew that was the one in which the wine was stored. This box was farthest from the back door, which was located near the left corner in which he had situated his stool, and so it was technically the most secure but it never hurt to take care in one’s work.
Lazryn was currently contemplating what his training scheme for tomorrow should be, today had heavily focused on working with his Lakan along with cardio-work so it would be a good change of pace to get some hand-to-hand practise in perhaps he would even seek a sparring partner out instead of simply someone to hold training pads. That would all, of course, depend on his he felt tomorrow; some days when he awoke he could feel Liyak’s restlessness more strongly than on others, and on those days in particular he took care to be on his guard and limit his time around others.
His train of thought was broken when he heard distant voices murmuring, though they seemed to be getting steadily closer, alarmed he opened his eyes. Instantly his gaze was drawn to the bottom of the wooden door which led out into the alley way that ran alongside the store, the darkness that had been underneath it was receding and was being slowly illuminated as a light source of some kind was closing in on it alongside a group of voices though he could not tell how many exactly. One thing was certain, it was not the standard two-man patrol that operated within this area during this time of the night.
Rising from his chair Lazryn drew his Lakan from his belt and took up stance, unblinking as he stared at the door. As the voices drew closer and closer he was beginning to be able to make out individual voices more clearly now and there sounded to be at least three individuals and one did not sound pleased about the others talking so loudly.
The voices stopped suddenly just as the illumination under the door grew to a point that told Lazryn that the source must be very close by. At this point Lazryn moved in on the door as silently as he could. He had actually unlocked the door so that should a burglar attempt it they would find no resistance, in the form of a lock anyway. If someone wanted inside the storehouse a simple wooden door wasn’t going to stop them, and it would only result in needless damage if the door had been locked.
As planned Lazryn heard the miniscule metallic click as the door’s handle was pushed, and a moment later the door began to creak open. He watched, waiting for the perfect opportunity, as the door continued to open inch by inch; he made sure that the growing wedge of illumination that the open door was creating was nowhere near him, and so there was no chance that the intruders could see him. In the span of a second or two the door was open sufficient enough for someone to squeeze through, Lazryn waited another few moments in the hopes that someone might attempt to do so, and then he stepped forward with his left foot and front kicked the door with right foot, which also happened to be his back foot.
This resulted in the door shooting closed, and the sound of colliding bodies on the other side as well as several grunts and a curse being uttered. Lazryn took no time to enjoy the fact that his initial plan worked, and instead shot forward with his left hand, which was free, and grabbed the door handle and threw it open. He had been about to step forward and engage the burglars when several things gave him pause; the first was that although he had definitely heard only three or four voices at the most, there was at least five bodies outside the door and that was only the ones that were visible some more may have been hidden along the alley. The second thing was the markings on the face of the largest of the visible men, whom wore an old and battered breast-plate of iron and carried a small buckler and longsword, which denoted him as a Cerulean. The final and most prominent reason why he did not charge the crowd was because one of them not only had a small crows-bow, but also loosed a quarrel the moment Lazryn opened the door, and that quarrel buried itself in his left shoulder both knocking him backwards and knocking the wind from his lungs slightly.
Gritting his teeth Lazryn reached up and yanked the bolt out of his shoulder, it was small and had not gone very deep but it had still reduced his ability to move his left arm without a great deal of pain. In the time that it took Lazryn to remove the quarrel two of the burglars had burst into the room, causing him to shift backwards to ensure he remained out of their range whilst he regained his senses fully.
You’re going to die fool.
At first Lazryn thought that the voice had come from one of the two humans standing in front of him, but then he realized it had been a voice inside his own head and nothing more. Liyak was choosing a bad time to rear his head.
Seeing that more of the burglars were making movement towards the open door Lazryn pressed what advantage he still had before their superior numbers could come into play, stepping forward he jabbed down at the small human on his left with his left hand. As he lifted, and threw his arm forward Lazryn’s shoulder lit up in pain but he followed through nonetheless. He was moving more on instinct than with clear thought at this point.
Neither human wore armour, only the one on the right seemed to have any weaponry; a small dagger that seemed to be in disrepair. These were far from the most equipped bandits he had ever come across in his line of work, but with their numbers they were perhaps the most over-prepared for this kind of job he had ever faced.
The last you’ll ever face. Liyak whispered cuttingly.
Lazryn’s punch staggered the smaller man, allowing Lazryn time to deal with the other man by taking a small step forward with his left foot and throwing a right knee up and in towards the man’s abdomen.
Just after the knee landed in the man’s stomach, lifting him off the ground with the force and sending him to his back afterwards, the unarmed burglar had regained his composure and threw himself wildly at the much larger foe. Lazryn dealt with the man’s foolish charge easily enough by using his own force against him, simply dropping the man to the floor with a cross from his right hand as he charged. With those two foes on the floor Lazryn was about to step over them when the he felt a fire erupt in his right thigh, a millisecond later he registered the sound of the crossbow being loosed.
Lazryn had no time to remove the second bolt before a third individual entered the storeroom, which was quickly becoming crowded due to its small size. It was the Cerulean that entered this time, though he was no more than half a foot in when before he was barred by his two wounded allies whom each lay on the floor holding their respective wounds. Beyond them Lazryn was moving backwards, knowing that in a tight environment like this he would need as much space as possible to defeat such a superiorly armoured foe.
Uncaring for his wounded friends the Cerulean stepped over them, his shield raised and his longsword at the ready as he stared menacingly at Lazryn. He had no hint of mercy in his eyes, and for perhaps the first time Lazryn felt like he understood what it felt like to stare upon a dark brother in control of an Akalak body, what it would feel like to look upon Liyak if he were in control of their body.
You aren’t getting out of this one weakling, beating these guys will take something you’ve never had. Bloodlust, give me the reigns. Liyak said,
speaking as much as he did only when he was trying to take control of the body. Lazryn would rather die still than allow that though, bloodlust would only get in the way of clear-cut fighting at this point.
Having backed up against the back wall of shelves Lazryn had ran out of space to go, and time to think. The only weapon he had on him was his Lakan, and against a shield and breastplate it would be difficult to implement its’ usage, though this was exactly why he trained so vigorously.
Hopping forward on his back leg Liyak lifted his left leg upwards, extending it as he did so in a fashion so that it impacted on the Cerulean’s shield when it was only three-quarters extended, upon touching the shield he quickly extended the leg the rest of the way pushing his foe backwards several inches.
Though it was not a great success Lazryn used his foe’s sudden loss of balance as best as he could, rushing forward he-
The Cerulean recovered almost instantly from the small push that Lazryn’s kick caused, it was not very useful for such a heavily laden foe, and when he saw Lazryn about to strike again the Cerulean swung his shield round into Lazryn’s face with enough force to send the large Akalak stumbling backwards into the shelves.
Upon hitting the shelves Lazryn hit his head on one of the boxes, and then lost his footing and slid backwards down the shelves and ended with his back flat against the ground. The pain in his left shoulder and right thigh was intensifying the longer this fight went on, and he the amount of blood coming from his shoulder was starting to become a determent to his ability to concentrate, and now he was suffering from a momentary black-out due to the force of his head hitting the wood box.
When the world came back into view Lazryn saw the Cerulean standing over him, his sword about to come down for the finishing blow. Lazryn acted straight away and done the only thing he could think of at the time, lashing upwards with his left leg he kicked his foe in the genitals as hard as he could. It was not the most elegant of moves, nor one he was proud of, but it saved his life and that’s what mattered.
He clambered to his feet as quickly as an injured man could, the Cerulean having dropped his sword and shield and fallen into the foetal position on the floor. The sight might have brought him some relief if there had been any time, but the moment he was back on his feet Lazryn once again felt an explosion of pain as another quarrel was loosed and found its mark, this time in the right side of his upper chest. He was knocked backwards into the shelves again, this time his stumble was great enough to cause several boxes to fall to the floor and shatter, though luckily not the wine he was fighting so fiercely to protect.
As if the adrenaline coursing through his veins suddenly dried up Lazryn became aware of all of his wounds at once; most prominently his newest one which as far as he could tell had been only an inch or two from his lung. Still though he was struggling for every breath now, the right side of his cloth tunic was soaked in blood from his wounds, and he could feel blood trickling down his leg as well from his other wound. His entire body hurt from being hit and thrown around the Cerulean, in truth this might have been the most pain he had ever been in.
Focus you worm, at least let me take some with us if you plan to lay down and die! Liyak sounded angry, one of the rare emotions he showed from time to time. The anger in his dark brother’s voice was enough snap Lazryn out of his state of focusing solely on his own pain.
In fact he had been so focused on his own body, and the pain it was being exposed to, that he had switched off entirely to the outside world. He did not know how, but he was back on the floor again, this time propped up against the shelves. Although his vision was not as clear as it usually was he was still certain of the initially confusing scene he was seeing unfold before him now.
There was another Akalak in the warehouse now, wielding nothing but a Lakan dressed in clothing as light as Lazryn wore. This Akalak unlike Lazryn however was having no troubles dealing with the group of assailants, all of whom were now back to their feet with another man having made it into the storeroom to deal with them. Lazryn saw at least one more figure lying prone outside the storeroom door however.
The new Akalak moved so fast and fluidly that in his current state Lazryn could not even follow the movements of his blade, but what he could follow was the bodies of the burglars as they fell one after another to the man’s expertly placed attacks. The Akalak was outgunned, outmanned and surrounded and yet he was fighting as if he had all three advantages, in fact he appeared to be fighting as if he had eyes on the back of his head for not even the foes behind him could find their mark.
In a matter of seconds all of the burglars lay bleeding on the floor, and the victorious figure began making his way towards Lazryn;
“My, my son you had your work cut out for you there didn’t you? Fortunate for you I was nearby I guess, fortunate indeed.”
When the Akalak was standing over Lazryn, he looked down at him with an expression Lazryn had not seen directed at him in over two decades, and yet one he had seen countless times for others; a father’s pride. It was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out. - Lazryn awoke in his own bed, his wounds bandaged but still fresh so he must not have been unconscious long. After opening his eyes and scanning his surroundings slowly, drowsily, he saw that the same Akalak that had saved him was sat at the edge of his bed on a chair reading some sort of book. He was not looking at Lazryn and yet he was the first to speak;
“Awake already my son? I had thought you may have needed a few more hours rest, a day more would not have been unheard of. Your wounds were worse than they appeared. I did what I could, the rest is up to you.” The Akalak spoke as though what he did was an everyday act, and also in a very familiar way as if he and Lazryn were old acquaintances. He did not even stop reading his book, not seeming to miss a beat as he spoke.
It took Lazryn a moment to prepare his throat, but several gulps and coughs later he managed to form a few words that may have passed as speaking;
“Who…Are you?”
The Akalak closed his book and put it onto his lap, turning to face Lazryn fully he smiled;
“I thought you would have guessed by now son, I guess it’s not as obvious as I think it is sometimes though.
I am Wysar, and to be quite honest this meeting is long overdue.”
Lazryn felt his own eyes recede back into his skull as he stared in disbelief, could this Akalak truly be Wysar; Lord of Riverfall, the father of all Akalak? He could see no reason for the man to lie in this situation, and it would explain his unnatural skill back at the storehouse. Lazryn had so many question, but before he could prepare to ask any Wysar spoke up first;
“I know there is much you would like to ask me, but if truth be told there is little I can answer that you do not already know yourself, or you would not benefit discovering in another way.
I can tell you however that although your ability to suppress Liyak is impressive, it is not how the Akalak were intended to exist. Yours is a difficult situation, but I assure you with hard work and patience, both of which I know you possess, I know that you two can begin to foster a working relationship. It is on that, and your new gift that I would most like you to focus.
Other than that I cannot fault you my son, you’re a fine example of an Akalak of your age and are certain to become a great warrior if you continue down your current path. Especially if I help you along the way a little…”
Wysar placed his hand on his Lazryn’s shin and although it was underneath his blanket Lazryn felt something pass between them, and then a sudden burning sensation on the nape of his neck that lasted only a moment. It was not quite painful, but certainly not pleasant.
Although his mind was still foggy from having just awoken, Lazryn suddenly came to think upon knowledge that felt like it had been at the back of his mind for years. It took him a moment to realize that the knowledge had never been there at all. It was the knowledge of the gnosis mark that Wysar had just gifted him with and its respective power, Evantia.
“Evantia is a powerful tool my son, but a tool nonetheless. Train with it as you would a sword and it will become one of your most powerful assets, master it and none will be able to compare to your skill in battle.” Wysar spoke with authority for the first time, his voice suddenly holding a remotely god-like quality though that might have just been the same knowledge-imparting tone mortals take when speaking about things such as this, Lazryn couldn’t tell in his current state. This entire situation was made all the more surreal due to his currently clouded mind.
Rising from the chair Wysar began walking towards the door; “Rest up Lazryn, and remember what I have asked of you; train hard, and remember that Liyak is not some foreign invader but is as entitled to that body as you are. Farewell son, perhaps this will not be our last meeting but who knows…”
With that Wysar opened the door and was gone, and when the door closed behind him Lazryn as left alone with his thoughts.
No, not alone, an Akalak is never alone. Perhaps Wysar was right, perhaps Liyak could be reasoned with, and perhaps he was not the demon Lazryn thought him to be. If he had any perspective on what had just occurred however Liyak choose to remain silent for the time being. Of course, although Liyak never spoke or acted unless he was trying to seize control to cause havoc Lazryn realized that not once in their twelve years together had he ever tried to communicate with him on neutral terms.
Ever the silent observer, perhaps Liyak saw things that even Lazryn missed. Wysar’s words rung through Lazryn, creating a hundred trains of thought at once. All of this to think through, and a new ability to master, it was going to be an interesting next few months…
Language
Fluent Language: Common Basic Language: Tukant Poor Language: None
Unarmed Combat: Fists Close to Chest for Protection Unarmed Combat: Proper Bracing Allows Quick Movement Unarmed Combat: Legs are Powerful Weapons Unarmed Combat: Using the Body to Help Punch
Possessions
1 Set of Clothing (Colorful) -Simple Shirt -Simple Pants -Simple Undergarments -Simple Cloak -Simple Boots 1 Waterskin 1 Backpack which contains: -Comb (Bone) -Brush (Bone) -Soap -Razor -Balanced Rations (1 Week’s Worth) -1 eating knife -Flint & Steel 1 Morningstar 1 Buckler 1 set of Studded Leather Armour 1 pair of Boxing Gloves (black) 1 Punching Bag 44 Gold Mizas
![[Verified by Crosspatch]](./images/checkmark.png "[Verified by Crosspatch]")
Lazryn/Liyak Lazan 
by Lazryn Lazak on April 13th, 2015, 9:40 pm 
