- Joined
- Dec 30, 2022
- Messages
- 6
- Reaction score
- 3
- Points
- 33
Character Information
- Full Name: Erich Reuter
- Heritage / Culture: Hedjet Remet Asha (White tiger)
- Age: 20
- Gender / Pronouns: Male, he/him
- Religion: The Mortis Cult
- Occult: Ordial Magewise. Half Undead (The Mortis Cult Religious Mechanic)
Appearance Information:
- Eye Color: Blue
- Fur Color: White with black stripes
- Height: 5'4
- Body Type: Relatively fit but small
- Additional Features: A part of his right ear is chopped off. Also, he has a scar on his face by his right eye, like a burn scar.
Skill Information:
- Hobbies and Talents: Magical Talent
- Languages: All (Custom Kit: Grim Scribe)
Combat Proficiencies and Abilities
Attack Stat: Magic (7)
Defense Stat: Faith (5)
Proficiency Points:
Custom Kit.
- Strength: 0
- Constitution: 0
- Breather Pack (Free Asha)
- Intelligence: 0
- Wisdom: 1
- Chem Point Buy
- Chem Mend Pack
- Chem Point Buy
- Dexterity: 0
- Roguery Point Buy
- Disguise Pack (Free Asha)
- Roguery Point Buy
- Faith: 5 (Counts as Planar Magic, Ordial)
- Theurgy Point Buy
- Hex Stance Pack (Free)
- Hex Plot Pack
- Hex Aura Pack
- Hex Madness Pack
- Hex Bloodlet Pack
- Hex Parasite Pack
- Magic: 8 (Ordial)
- Magic Point Buy
- Magic Snare Pack
- Magic Resist Pack
- Magic Cleanse Pack
- Magic Warp Pack
- Magic Isolate Pack
- Invoke Point Buy
- Deathless Invocation (Free Heritage Trait: Sihndar Mechanic 1)
- Adapt Point Buy
- Shapeshift Pack (Magical Variant)
- Wardrobe Pack (Magical Variant)
Erich comes from Calderliga, where he spent most of his childhood and teenage years. It was a pleasant childhood for the most part, but it was far different from a regular Asha childhood. His family had lived there long before he was even born, so not only was he highly exposed to Ailor Wirtem culture, but he grew up like one.
He grew up in a comfortable state of middle class, so he hadn't experienced any major racism issues either. You could say he was pretty disconnected from his culture, embracing the one he grew up in instead. Erich even learned Calem before he learned Common, and his parents never bothered to teach him Ibeth.
Family-wise, it was complicated. Erich grew up in a pretty stable household, with two very alive parents and a twin. He enjoyed this stability from his early years, but as soon as he started to grow older, things took a different turn. Erich never did great in school, but his twin brother Heinrich did amazing for a child of his age. Erich never had any strong ambitions or visions of the future, but Heinrich did. Slowly but surely, life started to look much better for his twin, and worse for him.
By his late teenage years, this had already planted itself quite sturdily, to the point where it looked like he had no future, but Heinrich had his whole life ahead of himself. He was always the golden child, who did everything right, was good at everything, and was always told were gonna accomplish great things. Erich began to be ignored increasingly, every mistake he made blown out of proportion, constantly compared to his brother who seemed to be the better version of himself.
He eventually did find something he liked and was good at, however. Erich had always been fascinated by poetry, finding what most think is a pretentious and shallow art form, vibrant and frankly fun. So much so, that he began to slowly learn other languages since he wanted to read more poetry that he just couldn't always find in Calem or Common. Naturally, Erich also started to try to write his own, which was always a relief. It felt like a title hole he could put his problems into… and make them beautiful.
At the age of 15, his parents were already pushing on what he was going to do when he grew up. Money doesn't grow on trees, so how is he gonna get it? He thought of the thing he enjoyed most and had the perfect answer for them.
The laughter didn't make it any less uncomfortable. After a double take, humor turned into concern.
"Poetry can't put bread on the table, and it doesn't do anything, does it? Your brother wants to become a knight, why don't you do something similar? Something that helps people. Why can't you just be more like your brother?"
Erich refused to let his parents take away the only thing that he enjoyed those days. The tiny raft he floated on. The idea of living in a small cottage on some hills by the lakes, sitting quietly on a bench while snow quietly falls from the heavens, with his quill and pen… was highly romanticized. But how achievable?
A part of him knew his parents were right. He had to find stable employment somehow. But a part of him also ached, that he could never get his parents to be as proud of him as they were of Heinrich. It wasn't as easy for him. He didn't succeed at every single task he set his mind to, he wasn't always liked by everyone, and he wasn't extroverted and charming like Heinrich was.
But he got looking. Eventually, he found that a ship captain who exports products was hiring a crew. Something that could bring money, considering the highly trading nature of the capital he was in. It sounded good, so he took it.
And he was a natural… or at least the captain told him so. After two years, he felt himself capable enough to sail his own ship, probably. However, he had been highly assisted this whole time and still felt insecure regarding weather conditions and the like. But he wanted to make his parents proud, at least once. And if this was the way, then he had to do it.
It was a simple trip, really. All he had to do was sail to Regalia, and back. This was to convince them to buy his ship, so he could start exporting products, or making commercial trips, or anything really. His parents told Heinrich to go along, in case Erich needed anything, despite Heinrich's best efforts to not go on said trip.
He had to. Erich's parents still thought Erich was always bound to mess something up, so they decided to force Heinrich to go. If something went wrong, he would be there to fix everything, like he always did.
He rented a boat for a few weeks and sailed away.
Erich's relationship with his brother was… complicated. It wasn't surprising that Erich had antagonized his twin in his head, half unintentionally. So the first few days were complicated, filled with awkward conversation and passive-aggressive comments.
However, things started to change. There isn't much to do in the open sea than to have a conversation, so they were in a way forced to make amends. Revelations came to light. Apparently, Heinrich didn't like the idea of becoming a knight, at all.
It let him know that being the golden child was more of a burden than anything. With so many expectations, and from everyone wanting something from you, it's hard to keep everyone happy. He didn't want to be a knight. He didn't know what he wanted, but he was sure knighthood wasn't offering what he needed. Erich sympathized with him.
They became close during that trip, and they made a promise. When they returned to Calderliga, they were going to start pursuing whatever they both wanted, regardless of what their parents thought. Whatever Heinrich wanted to do, but they were going to do it together.
They arrived in Regalia without many problems and took a few days to rest there before taking off back to Calderliga. They considered going on a commercial ship this time instead since Erich wasn't going to become a captain anymore, but they decided to sail back themselves. They had to return the ship they had rented anyway.
A few days later, in the middle of the ocean, they saw a storm cooking up. Angry clouds began to approach, slight rain making its way with it too. They thought nothing of it, thinking it was just another rainy day before the storm had completely taken place.
It wasn't a storm he could easily manage. It wasn't a storm a professional would've handled easily either. This was way beyond his skill level, but there was nothing he could do.
Out on waves, being tossed, the ship came undone as it started sinking. Only then did the reality of their situation ironically sink in. They were gonna die, and there's not much they could do about it. Erich tried to save his brother, but in the middle of the sea, there's not much rescuing to be doing.
And so the ship sank.
Washed up, he woke up, on the shore of Kintyr, the sea having decided his destination instead. He couldn't find Heinrich, or his body, so he unfortunately had to assume he didn't make it. But who would? They were stranded in the middle of the ocean. He's even lucky to have made it out.
Except he hadn't. It didn't take long for him to figure out that he did die. He drowned, only he was still conscious. Not breathing, but still moving. Strange, slightly interesting, but most of all monstrous.
He spent the rest of that month running from the authorities and trying to find shelter, mostly unsuccessfully. Not many can bear the sight of an undead, no matter how kind you present yourself as.
That is until he found them. Or they found him. A little bit of both.
They were a group of Mortist Cult fanatics. They gave him a home, food if he wanted to eat, new clothes, and shelter. They didn't immediately call the authorities on sight. They took him in, like one of their own, far below the surface of the city.
It was only a few days before they asked for something in exchange. A magic contract, to work with them for a year, in exchange for shelter and relative safety. It was either that or going back to running from the authorities daily, so he took that instead.
And that was one heck of a year.
They offered to teach him ordinal magic, which he was hesitant to do at first but ended up doing it anyway. They taught him how to wield it, how to defend himself with it. They taught him theurgy as well. How to contact and summon spirits, and how to use them to his advantage.
They told him about the Malefica and their goal. It sounded bad on paper, a world where everyone's dead and there is no life and no nothing. However, surrounding hismelf with these people made him think otherwise. Life is unnecessarily complex and exhausting. Life is painful. All he ever experienced while alive was pain after disappointment after rejectal after pain. If there is no life at all, no one would ever had to experience those things. There would be no disease, no war, no evil. It was… a solution. He tried to resist such thought process, but the seed was planted.
The place was filled with low-lives such as petty thieves, other undead, cult fanatics, and the like. Not to mention the things he aided in were almost always illegal and morally wrong. He couldn't wait to get out of there, yet some obscure part of himself considered these people… somewhat his family. They treated him well, they saved him from the streets, and they taught him how to defend himself. He had been treated better than he ever was… both when living or otherwise.
His status of unionist would soon come to be former if it wasn't already. While he didn't like the sound of an ordinal entity who brings people back to life forcefully… he did appreciate that the Malefica saw something in him, enough to not let him die.
Time passed on as he got better and better at magic and theurgy. This was something he truly was a natural on… or at least that's what they said. He even got to a point where he was able to cure his undead state… somewhat. He couldn't ever become truly alive agan, but he managed to achieve a state in between dead and living, thanks to the gods that didn't let him die to begin with.
Erich didn't want to truly die by this point. He wanted to see the vision of The Malefica accomplished, stilll believing everyone's death would be for their own good, and didn't want to get executed if he got captured by guards.
With his pen, that had been loyal to him for many years, he created 4 pieces of poetry, what he considers his best work, and attached his mortality to them. Erich spread them around the best he could, and made sure the only way to destroy them short of gods, spirits, or other powerful entities was to do it with the very pen they were created with. Erich also attached his mortality to the pen, which he keeps with him at all times, not only to make sure the poems aren't destroyed, but also for its sentimental value.
By then, it had been almost a year.
These people were constantly on the run, both from running from the authorities and chasing their own goals. So much so that in following them he even left the Regalian Archipelago and headed to Westwynd, unfortunately having to help them hijack a boat to get there.
His contract ended while they were on Macaïaal, obviously being offered the chance to stay for longer, under another contract. He didn't though, since he wanted to try to pursue his own goals, and also didn't appreciate being under a magical leash, even if it meant having a somewhat safe place to sleep each night.
And so he headed into Amontaar, hoping he could defend himself on his own, and if not, maybe he could find a group to fit into again. One where he can make his own decisions and pursue whatever he wants without being handcuffed under a spell.
Until then, he'll be there, trying to ignore the world with auroras, sad prose, and easier things.
He grew up in a comfortable state of middle class, so he hadn't experienced any major racism issues either. You could say he was pretty disconnected from his culture, embracing the one he grew up in instead. Erich even learned Calem before he learned Common, and his parents never bothered to teach him Ibeth.
Family-wise, it was complicated. Erich grew up in a pretty stable household, with two very alive parents and a twin. He enjoyed this stability from his early years, but as soon as he started to grow older, things took a different turn. Erich never did great in school, but his twin brother Heinrich did amazing for a child of his age. Erich never had any strong ambitions or visions of the future, but Heinrich did. Slowly but surely, life started to look much better for his twin, and worse for him.
By his late teenage years, this had already planted itself quite sturdily, to the point where it looked like he had no future, but Heinrich had his whole life ahead of himself. He was always the golden child, who did everything right, was good at everything, and was always told were gonna accomplish great things. Erich began to be ignored increasingly, every mistake he made blown out of proportion, constantly compared to his brother who seemed to be the better version of himself.
He eventually did find something he liked and was good at, however. Erich had always been fascinated by poetry, finding what most think is a pretentious and shallow art form, vibrant and frankly fun. So much so, that he began to slowly learn other languages since he wanted to read more poetry that he just couldn't always find in Calem or Common. Naturally, Erich also started to try to write his own, which was always a relief. It felt like a title hole he could put his problems into… and make them beautiful.
At the age of 15, his parents were already pushing on what he was going to do when he grew up. Money doesn't grow on trees, so how is he gonna get it? He thought of the thing he enjoyed most and had the perfect answer for them.
The laughter didn't make it any less uncomfortable. After a double take, humor turned into concern.
"Poetry can't put bread on the table, and it doesn't do anything, does it? Your brother wants to become a knight, why don't you do something similar? Something that helps people. Why can't you just be more like your brother?"
Erich refused to let his parents take away the only thing that he enjoyed those days. The tiny raft he floated on. The idea of living in a small cottage on some hills by the lakes, sitting quietly on a bench while snow quietly falls from the heavens, with his quill and pen… was highly romanticized. But how achievable?
A part of him knew his parents were right. He had to find stable employment somehow. But a part of him also ached, that he could never get his parents to be as proud of him as they were of Heinrich. It wasn't as easy for him. He didn't succeed at every single task he set his mind to, he wasn't always liked by everyone, and he wasn't extroverted and charming like Heinrich was.
But he got looking. Eventually, he found that a ship captain who exports products was hiring a crew. Something that could bring money, considering the highly trading nature of the capital he was in. It sounded good, so he took it.
And he was a natural… or at least the captain told him so. After two years, he felt himself capable enough to sail his own ship, probably. However, he had been highly assisted this whole time and still felt insecure regarding weather conditions and the like. But he wanted to make his parents proud, at least once. And if this was the way, then he had to do it.
It was a simple trip, really. All he had to do was sail to Regalia, and back. This was to convince them to buy his ship, so he could start exporting products, or making commercial trips, or anything really. His parents told Heinrich to go along, in case Erich needed anything, despite Heinrich's best efforts to not go on said trip.
He had to. Erich's parents still thought Erich was always bound to mess something up, so they decided to force Heinrich to go. If something went wrong, he would be there to fix everything, like he always did.
He rented a boat for a few weeks and sailed away.
Erich's relationship with his brother was… complicated. It wasn't surprising that Erich had antagonized his twin in his head, half unintentionally. So the first few days were complicated, filled with awkward conversation and passive-aggressive comments.
However, things started to change. There isn't much to do in the open sea than to have a conversation, so they were in a way forced to make amends. Revelations came to light. Apparently, Heinrich didn't like the idea of becoming a knight, at all.
It let him know that being the golden child was more of a burden than anything. With so many expectations, and from everyone wanting something from you, it's hard to keep everyone happy. He didn't want to be a knight. He didn't know what he wanted, but he was sure knighthood wasn't offering what he needed. Erich sympathized with him.
They became close during that trip, and they made a promise. When they returned to Calderliga, they were going to start pursuing whatever they both wanted, regardless of what their parents thought. Whatever Heinrich wanted to do, but they were going to do it together.
They arrived in Regalia without many problems and took a few days to rest there before taking off back to Calderliga. They considered going on a commercial ship this time instead since Erich wasn't going to become a captain anymore, but they decided to sail back themselves. They had to return the ship they had rented anyway.
A few days later, in the middle of the ocean, they saw a storm cooking up. Angry clouds began to approach, slight rain making its way with it too. They thought nothing of it, thinking it was just another rainy day before the storm had completely taken place.
It wasn't a storm he could easily manage. It wasn't a storm a professional would've handled easily either. This was way beyond his skill level, but there was nothing he could do.
Out on waves, being tossed, the ship came undone as it started sinking. Only then did the reality of their situation ironically sink in. They were gonna die, and there's not much they could do about it. Erich tried to save his brother, but in the middle of the sea, there's not much rescuing to be doing.
And so the ship sank.
Washed up, he woke up, on the shore of Kintyr, the sea having decided his destination instead. He couldn't find Heinrich, or his body, so he unfortunately had to assume he didn't make it. But who would? They were stranded in the middle of the ocean. He's even lucky to have made it out.
Except he hadn't. It didn't take long for him to figure out that he did die. He drowned, only he was still conscious. Not breathing, but still moving. Strange, slightly interesting, but most of all monstrous.
He spent the rest of that month running from the authorities and trying to find shelter, mostly unsuccessfully. Not many can bear the sight of an undead, no matter how kind you present yourself as.
That is until he found them. Or they found him. A little bit of both.
They were a group of Mortist Cult fanatics. They gave him a home, food if he wanted to eat, new clothes, and shelter. They didn't immediately call the authorities on sight. They took him in, like one of their own, far below the surface of the city.
It was only a few days before they asked for something in exchange. A magic contract, to work with them for a year, in exchange for shelter and relative safety. It was either that or going back to running from the authorities daily, so he took that instead.
And that was one heck of a year.
They offered to teach him ordinal magic, which he was hesitant to do at first but ended up doing it anyway. They taught him how to wield it, how to defend himself with it. They taught him theurgy as well. How to contact and summon spirits, and how to use them to his advantage.
They told him about the Malefica and their goal. It sounded bad on paper, a world where everyone's dead and there is no life and no nothing. However, surrounding hismelf with these people made him think otherwise. Life is unnecessarily complex and exhausting. Life is painful. All he ever experienced while alive was pain after disappointment after rejectal after pain. If there is no life at all, no one would ever had to experience those things. There would be no disease, no war, no evil. It was… a solution. He tried to resist such thought process, but the seed was planted.
The place was filled with low-lives such as petty thieves, other undead, cult fanatics, and the like. Not to mention the things he aided in were almost always illegal and morally wrong. He couldn't wait to get out of there, yet some obscure part of himself considered these people… somewhat his family. They treated him well, they saved him from the streets, and they taught him how to defend himself. He had been treated better than he ever was… both when living or otherwise.
His status of unionist would soon come to be former if it wasn't already. While he didn't like the sound of an ordinal entity who brings people back to life forcefully… he did appreciate that the Malefica saw something in him, enough to not let him die.
Time passed on as he got better and better at magic and theurgy. This was something he truly was a natural on… or at least that's what they said. He even got to a point where he was able to cure his undead state… somewhat. He couldn't ever become truly alive agan, but he managed to achieve a state in between dead and living, thanks to the gods that didn't let him die to begin with.
Erich didn't want to truly die by this point. He wanted to see the vision of The Malefica accomplished, stilll believing everyone's death would be for their own good, and didn't want to get executed if he got captured by guards.
With his pen, that had been loyal to him for many years, he created 4 pieces of poetry, what he considers his best work, and attached his mortality to them. Erich spread them around the best he could, and made sure the only way to destroy them short of gods, spirits, or other powerful entities was to do it with the very pen they were created with. Erich also attached his mortality to the pen, which he keeps with him at all times, not only to make sure the poems aren't destroyed, but also for its sentimental value.
By then, it had been almost a year.
These people were constantly on the run, both from running from the authorities and chasing their own goals. So much so that in following them he even left the Regalian Archipelago and headed to Westwynd, unfortunately having to help them hijack a boat to get there.
His contract ended while they were on Macaïaal, obviously being offered the chance to stay for longer, under another contract. He didn't though, since he wanted to try to pursue his own goals, and also didn't appreciate being under a magical leash, even if it meant having a somewhat safe place to sleep each night.
And so he headed into Amontaar, hoping he could defend himself on his own, and if not, maybe he could find a group to fit into again. One where he can make his own decisions and pursue whatever he wants without being handcuffed under a spell.
Until then, he'll be there, trying to ignore the world with auroras, sad prose, and easier things.
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