Post by menatkhufu on May 3, 2009 21:22:16 GMT -5
HARAKHTY
Mul Sun Cleric
Level 2
Physical Description
Harakhty is the epitome of physical health – well almost. While not as strong as some specimens of his kin, he is still an impressing sight to behold with his perfectly muscled stature. A characteristic Balican nose gives identity to his face, and sharp borders to his jawbone and orbital ridges further virilize his countenance. His eyes are kank-honey, and glow with a slight yellowish hue at times of emotion. He has an athletic gait, and can be considered a bit airy for most muls.
On the other hand, there is one other thing that scorches Harakhty into one’s mind. His skin is dry, dry as the parchments stacked in the royal libraries, small peeled bits continuously falling off even as he walks. It is the color of charred agafari, and deep cracks are visible on the back of his hands.
Harakhty is perfectly comfortable with his looks, and considers it boon from the element. He lenghtens his exposure to the Sun every passing day to further the element’s gift.
Personality
Harakhty may seem offish and distant at first, but after some time, can be quite chatty and likeable. He is tolerant of most beliefs, save those who believe in the cursed dogma of Silt. He is hotheaded and quick to anger, and his anger does not subside easily if he thinks himself right. Which can be quite problematic at times because he is usually self-confident.
He isnt impulsively violent like the majority of the Sun clerics, and helps people if they ask for it. Nevertheless, he thinks that Mercy has to be reserved to those who are worthy. Liars are unworthy, and people of the City are mostly undeserving, because they succumb to a life of sloth and deceit.
For want of a lie has Harakhty’s life been changed to worst in the past, and thus he will not tolerate any deception. Any attempt to cheat or misguide him, he will punish most vehemently. He lives a life of truth, and deems any attempt to thwart it as the most undignified of wrongdoings.
Beliefs
Once every week, in the hottest hour of the day at noon, Harakhty should get naked if possible and pray to the element as long as he can stand the heat. After that he should meditate, staring to the Sun until it sets. He is obliged to no other rituals other than this.
He seldomly tries to promote the Way of the Sun. He defends himself saying, “The element speaks every single day, to eyes that can see, and better than me, for sure.” when the occasional priest questions his dedication to the element.
He knows that the Sun burns, and the vast plains crumble under its heat, but then it is the same Sun that gives life to the crop that nourishes Life. “What creates Day and Night? And what gives life to the Moons?” were the first questions he asked to himself before the element called. This world would be a lump of lifeless, void lump of nothingness, had the element not touched it, for all he believes.
The Sun also illuminates, under its rays, no truth can be hidden. Thus, Harakhty also realizes that the Way of the Sun is also way to knowledge, the ultimate truth, the meaning beyond all this mess we live through.
Background
Harakty’s life thread begins as a nameless slave in the white-marbled city of Balic, in the pits of House Tomblador. His father, a dwarven gladiator of whose name is lost to time, was frequently hired by the slave-overseer in his force-breeding program. Untimely ripped from his ill-fated mother’s womb since the woman was not healthy enough to live till labor, the baby-mul was luxuriously cared and nurtured until he was old enough to start training as a gladiator.
The child-pits of House Tomblador were cruel for even the arena standards, where violence and gore routinely take place. Child slaves, mostly of the somatically stronger races were clashed one against each other, and they were taught to get used to and then delight in the kill, under the guile of survival. It was cruel not only because slave-children died every so-often, but also while promoting physical prowess, it diminished benignity, compassion and inspiration in young minds.
Even at that age, he was different. While others fought each other for fear of the leash -eventually ending up killing each other- he would stand still as his so-called rival landed blow after blow unto him. The overseer would whip him until his arm felt lump, insult and belittle him in front of the others, starve him for days, all to no avail. Against all the insults and the physical punishment, he would not fight. Even when the overseer forced the other children throw him inside the waste pool, and they nicknamed him Hauk -“shit” in Balican, he didnt hate them, or respond the violence. For all he knew, he wanted to die, and the angrier the overseer got, the closer death came.
At last, the overseer’s patience ran out when the mul-teen tried to impale himself on another slave’s blade, but the suffering wasnt to end yet. He was too valuable to let die, as valuable a bar of steel, and an amphora full of grain or a fine-woven carpet, nothing but possession. The overseer sold him to a noble who ran an inn and a tavern in the merchant’s district, but not before exacting revenge on the hapless teen. On his torso, visible as it can be, he had the letters “H A U K” branded. Which made every Balican-templar to see him barechested chuckle.
His new life as a slave was a true blessing after the years in the child-pits. His duty was to carry supplies from the caravans to the inns’s cellar, and hauling work between the inn and the tavern. Knowing no mother, no family or friend, the mul completely focused on his work. He was hardworking and able, and since his greedy master was a paragon of virtue compared to the old one, he did his best to make him pleased. In all his years as a bearer-slave, he was beaten only once, and that was due to no erring from his behalf, but his owner’s.
His performance and honesty earned himself a place in the very manor of his owner, and he was tasked with the household chores, again related to physical labor. He was now a perfectly-built young mul, and he was quite comely and desireable. The beautiful lady of the manor, a middle-aged woman who was indulged in earthly pleasures- soon developed a personal interest in him, making excuses to have him tasked closer to her dwellings, and it was then the young mul learned the pleasures of the skin. Adultery was widespread in the noble-houses of Balic, and even the practice of bearing children from the slaves was not uncommon, as long as it was kept secret.
And his secret wasnt well kept... probably through a jealous slave, his owner learned about him sleeping with his wife. When asked, the mul did not lie. Furious of the deed and disappointed by the betrayal of his trust, he informed the Templars and had the Agora prepared for an execution. His accusation was not adultery, as could be guessed, but theft of property, which according to Balican law, demanded that the slave commiting the crime be put to the “Sun-Torture” as capital punishment. The sun torture included that the victim be chained upon a slab of marble, and be exposed to the sun’s immense heat until he burnt to death. Templars made sure that the slave was given enough water to make sure that the torture lasted for a few days, usually until the citizens grew bored of the show.
.....more coming
Mul Sun Cleric
Level 2
Physical Description
Harakhty is the epitome of physical health – well almost. While not as strong as some specimens of his kin, he is still an impressing sight to behold with his perfectly muscled stature. A characteristic Balican nose gives identity to his face, and sharp borders to his jawbone and orbital ridges further virilize his countenance. His eyes are kank-honey, and glow with a slight yellowish hue at times of emotion. He has an athletic gait, and can be considered a bit airy for most muls.
On the other hand, there is one other thing that scorches Harakhty into one’s mind. His skin is dry, dry as the parchments stacked in the royal libraries, small peeled bits continuously falling off even as he walks. It is the color of charred agafari, and deep cracks are visible on the back of his hands.
Harakhty is perfectly comfortable with his looks, and considers it boon from the element. He lenghtens his exposure to the Sun every passing day to further the element’s gift.
Personality
Harakhty may seem offish and distant at first, but after some time, can be quite chatty and likeable. He is tolerant of most beliefs, save those who believe in the cursed dogma of Silt. He is hotheaded and quick to anger, and his anger does not subside easily if he thinks himself right. Which can be quite problematic at times because he is usually self-confident.
He isnt impulsively violent like the majority of the Sun clerics, and helps people if they ask for it. Nevertheless, he thinks that Mercy has to be reserved to those who are worthy. Liars are unworthy, and people of the City are mostly undeserving, because they succumb to a life of sloth and deceit.
For want of a lie has Harakhty’s life been changed to worst in the past, and thus he will not tolerate any deception. Any attempt to cheat or misguide him, he will punish most vehemently. He lives a life of truth, and deems any attempt to thwart it as the most undignified of wrongdoings.
Beliefs
Once every week, in the hottest hour of the day at noon, Harakhty should get naked if possible and pray to the element as long as he can stand the heat. After that he should meditate, staring to the Sun until it sets. He is obliged to no other rituals other than this.
He seldomly tries to promote the Way of the Sun. He defends himself saying, “The element speaks every single day, to eyes that can see, and better than me, for sure.” when the occasional priest questions his dedication to the element.
He knows that the Sun burns, and the vast plains crumble under its heat, but then it is the same Sun that gives life to the crop that nourishes Life. “What creates Day and Night? And what gives life to the Moons?” were the first questions he asked to himself before the element called. This world would be a lump of lifeless, void lump of nothingness, had the element not touched it, for all he believes.
The Sun also illuminates, under its rays, no truth can be hidden. Thus, Harakhty also realizes that the Way of the Sun is also way to knowledge, the ultimate truth, the meaning beyond all this mess we live through.
Background
Harakty’s life thread begins as a nameless slave in the white-marbled city of Balic, in the pits of House Tomblador. His father, a dwarven gladiator of whose name is lost to time, was frequently hired by the slave-overseer in his force-breeding program. Untimely ripped from his ill-fated mother’s womb since the woman was not healthy enough to live till labor, the baby-mul was luxuriously cared and nurtured until he was old enough to start training as a gladiator.
The child-pits of House Tomblador were cruel for even the arena standards, where violence and gore routinely take place. Child slaves, mostly of the somatically stronger races were clashed one against each other, and they were taught to get used to and then delight in the kill, under the guile of survival. It was cruel not only because slave-children died every so-often, but also while promoting physical prowess, it diminished benignity, compassion and inspiration in young minds.
Even at that age, he was different. While others fought each other for fear of the leash -eventually ending up killing each other- he would stand still as his so-called rival landed blow after blow unto him. The overseer would whip him until his arm felt lump, insult and belittle him in front of the others, starve him for days, all to no avail. Against all the insults and the physical punishment, he would not fight. Even when the overseer forced the other children throw him inside the waste pool, and they nicknamed him Hauk -“shit” in Balican, he didnt hate them, or respond the violence. For all he knew, he wanted to die, and the angrier the overseer got, the closer death came.
At last, the overseer’s patience ran out when the mul-teen tried to impale himself on another slave’s blade, but the suffering wasnt to end yet. He was too valuable to let die, as valuable a bar of steel, and an amphora full of grain or a fine-woven carpet, nothing but possession. The overseer sold him to a noble who ran an inn and a tavern in the merchant’s district, but not before exacting revenge on the hapless teen. On his torso, visible as it can be, he had the letters “H A U K” branded. Which made every Balican-templar to see him barechested chuckle.
His new life as a slave was a true blessing after the years in the child-pits. His duty was to carry supplies from the caravans to the inns’s cellar, and hauling work between the inn and the tavern. Knowing no mother, no family or friend, the mul completely focused on his work. He was hardworking and able, and since his greedy master was a paragon of virtue compared to the old one, he did his best to make him pleased. In all his years as a bearer-slave, he was beaten only once, and that was due to no erring from his behalf, but his owner’s.
His performance and honesty earned himself a place in the very manor of his owner, and he was tasked with the household chores, again related to physical labor. He was now a perfectly-built young mul, and he was quite comely and desireable. The beautiful lady of the manor, a middle-aged woman who was indulged in earthly pleasures- soon developed a personal interest in him, making excuses to have him tasked closer to her dwellings, and it was then the young mul learned the pleasures of the skin. Adultery was widespread in the noble-houses of Balic, and even the practice of bearing children from the slaves was not uncommon, as long as it was kept secret.
And his secret wasnt well kept... probably through a jealous slave, his owner learned about him sleeping with his wife. When asked, the mul did not lie. Furious of the deed and disappointed by the betrayal of his trust, he informed the Templars and had the Agora prepared for an execution. His accusation was not adultery, as could be guessed, but theft of property, which according to Balican law, demanded that the slave commiting the crime be put to the “Sun-Torture” as capital punishment. The sun torture included that the victim be chained upon a slab of marble, and be exposed to the sun’s immense heat until he burnt to death. Templars made sure that the slave was given enough water to make sure that the torture lasted for a few days, usually until the citizens grew bored of the show.
.....more coming
It just breaks my little heart, big guy like that reduced to standing back and guarding me.