"Did I say I wanted a response? No? Then be quiet." |
Name: | Jarvinen Demitris |
Bond: | Atrumisge |
Bonded At: | Ring of Fire, The Flight of the Dead Clutch |
Homeworld: | Arira, in the realm of Fantasa |
Species: | Elven Lich |
Age: | 2,062 (last age "alive": 1412) |
Sex: | Male |
Height: | 6'0" |
Hair: | Long, thin, and silvered but for a streak of black here and there |
Skin: | Dark |
Eyes: | Pale blue |
Residence: | The jungles of Pre'Mian |
Occupation: | Necromancer |
Pet: | Yost, otherwise known as "that little brat"; Fire, dracolich minion |
Description: | Despite having no heartbeat, Jarvinen doesn't look dead. In fact, he looks very much alive, though obviously aged. For his own kind, he is actually quite short, and he looks as if a strong wind might break him into pieces. His hair is long and thin, mostly silvered with age but with a few strands of his original color, black, still clinging to existence at his temples, and his eyes are a very light blue. His crinkled skin is dark, an odd contrast to the white of his hair and the pale of his eyes, and his clothes, suitable in style for a mage and scholar, are nearly always dark, as well. His face, from the line of his cheekbone and down, is tatooed with various symbols: marks of rank, ability, and a black mark atop them all showing that he was exiled for his use of Dark Arts. Not many people see those, though, for he tends to cover them with illusion whenever not in the privacy of his own home. |
Personality: | For the most part, Jarvinen doesn't seem to
have much personality. He is vague, asocial, and generally
irritable towards most people. In the right circumstances, though, he's
crafty, determined, and decidedly immoral. Nothing matters to him except
himself, his own comfort, and his own well-being. He's not particularly
ambitious, generally content with books, experiments, the comfort of a
rich home, and the occasional living being to torture, kill, and
eventually enslave-- but he will most certainly take whatever chance is
thrown his way to make his own unlife better.
Jarvinen is a slow thinker, but he is also a thorough thinker. It is that thoroughness that gave him the ability to make himself into a lich, through study, painstaking magics, and meticulous planning. He doesn't like other people, much preferring the silent and unquestioning obedience of lesser forms of undead, but he does put up with a few living servants, when he can get them, though they don't usually last very long. |
History: | Though Jarvinen is an elf born on the
planet Arira among his own kind, he has spent the past hundred and fifty
years or so in the wilds of Pre'Mian. Outcaste from his own people, or
at least not particularly popular and certainly not fond of them, in
return, he finally ran out of hiding places on his own planet. Instead,
he found himself a failed settlement far from most of the civilized
world on the largely-empty planet of Pre'Mian, out of the way and mildly
infested with wraiths. Since he, too, was technically dead, the wraiths
didn't really know what to do with him, and so mostly left him alone--
especially after he destroyed a couple as mostly-bluffed warning.
It hadn't taken too long for fix up the largest house in the small village, despite how slowly he had to work, and ever since he's been substantially improving it until it now resembles a miniature palace, if a somewhat shoddy one. He spent a lot of time stealing things to fill his new home with, mostly books, and occasionally checking up on where he'd hidden his heart. His most recent acquisition is a young Garden Dragon girl with early magic in divination, who he only managed to keep magically bound by doing away with his small host of undead. He figured it a needed sacrifice, for she has led him-- unwillingly-- to several large thieving busts, providing Jarvinen with not only money for food and amenities, but also more books for his growing collection. Unfortunately, with the lack of undead servants, his home is also less well-defended. After very nearly losing it to a third attack by disgruntled traders in as many years, he decided something was going to have to be done-- and freeing or killing the girl was out of the question, since either way he'd lose her powers. By chance he caught wind of the Flight of the Dead's resulting clutch, and decided that such a thing would be perfect. Leaving the girl under as many protective and binding spells as he could manage, that she couldn't leave the house, he made the trek to the Ring of Fire in search of a dragon-bond to help protect his house and, if needed, his heart and unlife. |
Abilities: | What most people can guess about Jarvinen
is that he is a necromancer, or at least a dark mage, though he isn't a
particularly powerful one, unable to keep more than a couple thralls and
with only limited offensive and defensive spells. In addition to his
weak physical strength is the lack of speed his scholarly life and
great age has accorded him: he's simply never trained his body the way
he's trained his mind. He has become adept at avoiding or
outwitting dangers rather than confronting them, as a result, and is an
expert at hiding, escaping, and getting others to fight for him.
What is less obvious, and usually unexpected, is that he simply cannot die, no matter what is done to him. If anyone gets close enough to wound him, the damage magically repairs itself given time. Jarvinen is a lich, and particular kind of lich: the kind who keeps his heart, his essence, what makes him "alive" in a different place than his body, carefully hidden and guarded. The only way to kill him, then, is to find and destroy his heart. So, though he is easy to defeat, he is quite a bit more difficult to kill, and usually weasels his way out of tough spots that might at least imprison him. |
Ariran Elves are the creative property of Silver Midnight