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About Daevorak

  • Rank
    Junior Member
  • Birthday 03/21/1984
  1. <img src="http://aarontoponce.org/presents/dvorak/images/dvorak.png" alt="dvorak.png" />

  2. Name: Daevorak Darkshard Alias: The Dark Wanderer, Darkweaver, Blackrobe, Daevorak the Dark Species/Race: Formerly Highborne--though now: Unknown Age: Like a fish within the small and unconditioned hands of a child--Blackrobe has slipped through the grasp of time--that linear thought having been left snatching at the air--fumbling in the space of his travels. The image shown is that of an elf in his prime--but the wisdom that gleams within his eyes is ever changing--as though each time he is met, he is from another breath of his life. He is old when others are young and hopeful--and young when others are derelict and diseased. National Allegiance & Loyalties: There is no heart for heritage and homeland within this elf. The thought of his pride for his people is merely a memory to him--flickering out in the death of being forgotten. Like a corpse’s face molded to mimic life--what little spark of pride and unity of purpose he once felt has become twisted--into a tool to tug upon the hearts and loyalties of others. His is a voice that has whispered behind the throne of Kings--but the mundane caging of a love for nation is a concept too small for his comprehension. Religion: Daevorak never truly believed in the Gods--his understanding of the energy theories of magic--the divide of the worlds and the randomness of space--having always overshadowed his faith. While others bowed and devoted their powers to invisible beings--he worshiped his mind, praised the arcane as divinity. Even those Gods of Magic could not seed themselves in his heart--having followers who were perplexed by the elf’s unwillingness to revere those who, they believed, granted his gift. Little did he know that one watched his rise in magic--from everywhere and no where--from a dark cave within his nightmares. Personality: Daevorak's persona is as perplexing as his past. His eyes betray the emotion he chooses to feel. His lips smile at thoughts that may not be the topic. His actions can be sweet or destructive--if it fits his ravenous ambitions or amusement. His company is often found confusing--though his words can shed unseen light upon a path. He is capable of achieving the love of others--through his wolfish and seductive embraces. He is then without an end to the ways in which such emotion may be cast aside by him. His predatory powers of persuasion, cooperation and control leave all touched by his wicked plots. This potent duality of character has often brought new strengths to those about him--this is documented by an unknown observer, "--only to be used to drive him back from whence he came." Blackrobe's lovely mask hides a persona that carries with it no idea of sacred life. Powers, Skills & Abilities: His abilities to cast magic are profound--though, amazingly, rarely used. His skill in seduction and manipulation rarely require an outright display of might--he manages to remain in the shadows, pulling strings and whispering words to fuel his ambitions--without need of spell. All the while restoring and saving his energies--for when there is a need for their utilization. His depth and display of charm is almost more destructive than any spell given life on a breath of spidery words. Still, when his magic flows through him, it is a terrible sight to behold. Daevorak has been trained and schooled in the art of planar travel. His time in the School of Dalaran granted him an enormous amount of knowledge--through the entry into the other worlds, he studied numerous cultures and personalities--spun rites from countless magical texts--tasted and researched various forms of energy--and mapped the path of the planes. His gift has shown him endless beauty--and fathomless torments. A master of summoning--the Dark Wanderer is adept at drawing forth creatures of the Dark. Description: The robes of black are of elegant velvet--they seem to feast upon what light graces them. They are hemmed in threads of silver--arcane symbols of protection and power. His hood is deep and filled with nothing--and what light should be upon the face within, dies before even laying sight. The robes are heavy and voluminous--but seem to flow enough to perform the graces of a feline. His step is soft, silent and angelic--his body flows like the sinuous slithers of a serpent. He provides an aura of untold power to the air--and the light of candle or lamp flicks at his coming--then burns bright in defiance at his passing. His presence can seem a black cloud upon the area--seem to twist and corrupt the shadows, so that scurrying shapes trick the eye. Nature hushes as though mourning at his step and the wind's flute dies with his advance. History: --WORK IN PROGRESS-- ((Let's RP. I have two characters--"Daevorak" and "Darkshard"--both the same IC character. Feel free to whisper.))