scrolls - sleep, admonishing ray, and invisibility.
Amalrus Almuric – Background and Appearance:
Age 35. Height 6’2”. Weight 175 lb.
Appearance. Despite the fact that he is no spring chicken, Amalrus looks young and his hair still retains the sleek darkness it always has had. His looks and Charisma have, well had, taken him so very far in life. Usually he is well dressed though these days tattered prison rags are all he wears. His grey/green eyes DO bring out the best in the drab clothing though, well, at least he’ll die young and leave a good looking corpse! Always thin, he’s become almost gaunt with the lack of food, good food, fed since being apprehended.
The intent of the character is to become a Lich.
Background. Amalrus grew up in a family that was around but never actually had, wealth. Devout Mitrans’ his mother and father were happy to serve the members of Merchant Houses of the Heartlands traveling about making fine jewelry for those who could afford it. Still, with several children, the money never went very far. Amalrus was the baby of the family.
As he got older so did his parents and they were able to travel less and less. Still, having moved about so much his knowledge of the ins and outs of the Kingdom were considerable. His siblings grew older and moved out and away to various places in the Heartlands. His parents, tired but finally somewhat well of, moved to Ghastenhall that Amalrus might pursue a trade much more lucrative than that of the traveling jeweler, Master of the Arcane.
Charismatic and Brilliant, Amalrus excelled at University. There he focused on the Arcane Arts in the service of course to Mitra. That is until he met Celeste. A fellow Acolyte, she was from an influential Noble Family in Daveryn. Amalrus was smitten in a way he had never been before. Celeste used Amalrus’ obvious lust to deliver him to her secret Lord Asmodeus. Soon enough Amalrus was not only in love with Celeste but with her Master who seemed to be so much more and yet so much less than what the Mitrans portrayed him to be.
A life of leisure and comfort were Amalrus’ for the taking, the Mitrans puritan teachings began to grate of the young man who longed for the freedom that Asmodean teachings and beliefs could provide.
Soon enough, his schooling was over and Amalrus was ready to defend the Realm from those who would seek to do it harm, or so he pledged anyway. Of course he lied, before leaving University, he pilfered scrolls of forbidden art and made his way to the Borderlands. The place where the Mitrans were the most complacent.
There he used his Charisma and powers, especially his unique powers to change his appearance, to begin to grow a small cell of Asmodean followers. His family upbringing served him well as he was able to fashion several Holy Symbols of Asmodeus, many that could be shifted to resemble those of Mitra! Though not a proper Cleric, he knew that providing such items to followers could spark the divine in one of his own flock. As the years went by his numbers grew modestly and his powers were held back by the lack of Wizards besides himself in the Borderlands.
He was still “young” but getting no younger, Amalrus decided to take drastic action. He would use those scrolls he had stolen several years ago to summon a minions dedicated to his Dark Lord. In exchange for loyalty, he would have power, even if it meant selling a piece of his soul to get it. With little to go on quite “how” to do so, after all, Asmodean chapbooks were in short supply!, Amalrus decided that he needed to do something to gain the attention of one of Asmodeus’ netherworld creatures.
Two months ago, with his cell of cultists, those remaining serious about that afar and not using it as an excuse for an orgy, traveled with Amelrus in the dead of night to one of the local Churches in the Borderland. There they took the priest and his altar boys unawares. The boys were gutted but the priest was the ingredient he really needed. Upon Mitra’s own altar did the cult sacrifice the old priest, bathing the altar in his blood, the pearly white became crimson red. Just as the man was going to his God, Amalrus cast the summoning. One he should never have tried.
Something came alright, something fiery alright, an Asmodeans’ damned Angel! It glared and slayed and glared and slayed the entirety of the cell. Amalrus tried to flee but the thing captured him at the doors just as the sun was rising knocking him unconscious to, “pay for your sins black hearted mortal” was the last thing Amalrus remembered hearing.
He woke next in prison. His family ashamed of what he did having turned their back upon him, he used the remaining amount of his personal wealth to locate Celeste to aid him but she could not be found. Still, he would not cower or show fear to these Mitrans! In his “trial” such as it was, Amalrus remained defiant, insisting that the altar looked much better blood red than pearl white. He did manage to convince the Magistrate that he did not kill the priest, just directed the use of his Blood to Desecrate the Church. For all the good that did! The damn sentence was death regardless.
Now Amalrus waits in Brandescar, lamenting what could have been and beginning to realize that his life would soon be over, with Mortality staring him in the face, Amalrus is almost ready to crack, almost. He prays to Asmodeus three times a day, asking for “divine” intervention”. So far little has come of his pleas…