Errant al-Din

[SerMordryd]

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"Knowledge is a blade, sharp and unyielding, tempered in silence and shadow. It cuts through the haze of ignorance, revealing both light and darkness in equal measure. In its edge lies power, and in its weight, a quiet danger. But wielded with care, it can carve a path through madness, guiding the mind to clarity where others might lose themselves."​

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◇ NAME: Errant al-Din
◇ AGE: 29
◇ GENDER: Male
◇ RACE: Human, Khetaric
◇ NICKNAMES: Blue
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◇ SEXUALITY: Sapiosexual
◇ HEIGHT: 6’1 (185cm)
◇ BUILD: Broad and stocky, with a lean sculpted strength of a trained Ishkinari
◇ HAIR: Mid-length, appearing black in most light, but under direct sunlight, it reveals a brilliant cobalt-blue undertone
◇ EYES: Light grey, almost white
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◇ MARKINGS: Three runes, carved into his flesh through Fleshscribing, glow faintly violet in dim light. These marks are typically hidden but occasionally visible through his clothing.
◇ TATTOOS: None
◇ ATTIRE: Errant favours simple yet elegant robes and layered tunics, practical in design but made from high quality materials. His clothing is mostly dark, allowing the faint blue sheen of his hair to stand out in the light. He often wears a long coat with deep sleeves, perfect for concealing implements.
◇ MARITAL: Single
◇ MONIKER: The Azure Caretaker

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=ATTRIBUTES [TBD]=
STR X | CON X | AGI X | INT X | HP X | TOX X | MS X​

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◇ ALIGNMENT: Neutral, though with morally ambiguous tendencies
◇ TRAITS:

◈ Charismatic​

◈ Disciplined​

◈ Loyal​

◈ Cautious​

◈ Pragmatic​

◈ Secretive​

◈ Stubborn​

◈ Haunted​

◇ INTERESTS: Ancient magic, lost knowledge, philosophy, tea ceremonies and rituals tied to tradition
◇ HABITS: Often runs his fingers over the scars of his runes when in deep thought, polishes his tools meticulously even when not using them, and tends to make sharp, witty remarks when in conversation that are often layered with deeper meaning.
◇ ASPIRATIONS: Errant seeks to walk the edge between madness and control. His greatest ambition; to harness the dangerous knowledge he once sought with the Covenant and bend it to his will without losing himself to its depths like the others. He dreams of mastering what others fear and believes that doing so will unlock a greater understanding of the world.

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Errant was born into silence. Not the kind that comes from the absence of sound, but the type that lives in the long corridors of ancient halls, in the measured steps of the Ishkinari, where a man’s worth is weighed not in words, but in his actions. His family, the al-Dins, were guardians of the Shori for generations, their bloodline steeped in duty and bound by the Order of Akhaten. From his earliest days, Errant was made to understand the weight of his lineage, the unseen strings that tied him to the fate of Kabetsu and its rulers. His father was a man of few words, his mother a woman of fewer still, but it was his grandfather, Emeric, who spoke most clearly to him.

Emeric al-Din was a man out of time. A relic of a world that no longer existed, shaped by traditions of a distant past, a past before the Cataclysm reshaped the very fabric of existence. He spoke often of the Azure Order, with reverence, as though it were a lost city of gold. He painted it with words that made it shimmer—an ancient bastion of knowledge, untouched by madness or corruption, a place where wisdom reigned. Errant listened to these stories as a boy and believed in them as only a child could. The magic his grandfather taught him was not the crude sorcery of hedge wizards, but something older, more refined, something with purpose. Spellcraft was a delicate thing, a weaving of intention and force, and in Emeric’s hands, it seemed like an art form.

As he grew, Errant learned to craft spells with precision, to etch runes into the very air with nothing more than a whispered word. His grandfather watched over him, correcting his form, guiding his hand, but always with a distant look in his pale eyes. There was a heaviness to Emeric that Errant could never quite shake. Something had been lost when the family remained in Kabetsu, something that haunted his grandfather’s steps, even as he moved with the grace of an Ishkinari.

By the time Errant reached adulthood, the silence of Kabetsu no longer suited him. The narrow streets and ancient temples felt like a gilded cage, the weight of tradition heavy on his shoulders. The world outside, Elsar and the shattered lands beyond, called to him. It was more than wanderlust; it was the echo of his grandfather’s stories, of the Azure Order as it had been, a place of pure knowledge. The pull was too strong to resist. So, with little more than the clothes on his back and his spells sharp at his fingertips, Errant set out to find it, the fabled order his grandfather had always spoken of in half-whispers.

When he found the Azure Order in the distant lands of Elsar, it was a shadow of its former self. The grand halls his grandfather had described were still there, but the air was different. There was a darkness in the eyes of its members, a weariness that clung to them like a second skin. They had become something else entirely—defenders of the realm, stalwart in their fight against unseen evils, but far removed from the pursuit of pure knowledge. It was here that Errant’s faith wavered for the first time. The truth of the order’s change hit him like a cold wind, chilling the fire of his purpose. But when the Covenant reached out to him, promising to restore what had been lost, he did not hesitate.

The Covenant was everything Errant had hoped the Azure Order would be. They sought knowledge in all its forms, even the forbidden. For a time, it felt right. The teachings of the Covenant were different, darker, but there was truth in them. Errant learned quickly, mastering the art of Fleshscribing, carving runes into his own body, binding himself to the magic in ways that few dared. His skin bore the marks of his ambition, dull violet runes that pulsed with an eerie light under his clothes. They whispered to him in moments of stillness, a reminder of the power he held, of the knowledge he had gained.

But with that power came madness. The others in the Covenant began to lose themselves, their minds unraveling like loose threads in the wind. Errant saw it in their eyes, the same darkness that had plagued the Azure Order, but deeper, more insidious. It was not the pursuit of knowledge that was the danger—it was the descent into chaos, the loss of control. He felt it, too, creeping at the edges of his thoughts, the weight of something far older and far more dangerous than he had anticipated. In the end, he chose a different path. While the others delved further into the abyss, Errant stepped back, unwilling to sacrifice his mind for the sake of forbidden truths.

When he returned to the Azure Order, it was with a quiet resolve. He did not speak of the Covenant or the madness he had narrowly escaped. Instead, he proved himself through his actions, his skill with spellcraft unquestionable, his loyalty unspoken but undeniable. The leaders of the Azure Order, desperate for stability amidst growing threats, appointed him as The Caretaker, a position of power he never sought but could not refuse.​

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UNIQUE | POSITIVE | NEUTRAL | NEGATIVE
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Emeric al-Din [Grandfather] | For Errant, his grandfather was the quiet rhythm of a heartbeat, the steady pulse that shaped his world. Emeric’s voice was like stone warmed by the sun, soft with age but solid with unspoken strength. It was he who first placed a quill in Errant’s hand, guiding him through the intricacies of spellcraft with a patience that seemed to stretch beyond time. There were no grand lectures, only the steady presence of a man who knew more than he ever spoke. Together they would sit in the long silence of twilight, his grandfather’s hand resting lightly on the worn pages of ancient tomes, the faint hum of magic always lingering between them. Errant’s path was lit by that quiet flame, a flame that burned brightest in the stillness of their shared moments, when knowledge was passed not through words, but through the simple act of being.

More to come...?
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Spoiler: Spellcraft

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◇ Sorcery Tier: Tier 3
◇ Spell Capacity:

◈ One Word: Unlimited​

◈ Two Word: 4​

◈ Three Word: 3​

◈ Four Word: 3​

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◇ Known Runes:

◈ Hwaeran: The Thermic Rune​

◈ Oeri: The Freezing Rune​

◈ Diddymu: The Dispel Rune​

◈ Leoht: The Light Rune​

◈ Cyflym: The Kinetic Rune​

◈ Meddylig: The Mind Rune​

◈ Sonisk: The Sonic Rune​

◈ Rhymol: The Binding Rune​

◈ Anhrefn: The Chaos Rune​

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◇ Fleshscribing:
Runes Inscribed

◈ Hwaeran: Foulfire - (Reaction) Essence seeps through the caster's veins like a molten concoction. Their blood is now toxic. Upon taking any melee-inflicted damage, deal 1d3 elemental-fire damage.​

◈ Oeri: Steeled Flesh - (Reaction) The caster may malform the essence within their own blood to flash-freeze parts of their body temporarily with arcane frost. This can be used to halve the damage from an incoming attack (of all damage types except psy). 3 round cooldown.​

◈ Diddymu: Twin Evocation - (Passive) Maelstroms of essence undulate beneath the flesh, eager to spill forth. The caster taps into this storm, and is able to cast one-word spells as a bonus action.​

◈ Leoht: Plasmic Manipulation - (Passive) The caster has profound expertise over their own craft, being able to passive manipulate the physical makeup of their spell. When casting, they may choose for damage to be inflicted as bludgeoning, irradiating, or any elemental type.​

◈ Cyflym: Endowed Spirit - (Passive) So attuned has the caster's self become to the raw essence permeating within the world, that they now serve as a beacon. Essence is passively attracted to the caster. They can now restore (2 word) spell slots every (4) rounds and have infinite (1 word) spells. Their arcane aura visible and pungent to all those Attuned to the Meridian or sharing similar feats.​

◈ Meddylig: Cognitive Expansion - (Passive) The mind of the caster becomes boundless in its arcane wisdom. They receive +1 one-word spell slot, +1 two-word spell slot, +1 three-word spell slot.​

◈ Sonisk: Abyssal Tongue - (Passive) You become the primordial tongue, and essence will listen. You no longer require a conduit to cast spells. You must still speak and/or gesture your casting.​

◈ Rhwymol: Eternal Ward - (Passive) Remnant essence lingers on one's own skin. Forming that of a false layer. For every spell that the user casts, they will gain that tier as magical AC, up to a maximum of 9 AC at any time. For example, casting 3 three-word spells will provide 9 AC. This lasts until the end of an encounter.​

◈ Anhrefn: Warpfold - (Bonus Action) The caster may loudly envelop themselves within space and time to reappear at a distance, within line of sight, of no more than the standard MS range (9). This movement will bypass attacks of opportunity and ignore vaulting / climbing MS requirements.​

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Inscribed Costs
Unaffected due to Relic. Otherwise, without it…

◈ Bound to the Meridian: The body of the Spellcrafter has become bound to the primalstream of Athon. Their very lifeforce entwined with the foreign essence that has taken full hold of its host. The character is now permanently locked to Spellcraft and will be permanently killed if pursuing another magic or releasing enough essence from their body.​

◈ Abyssal Starvation: Essence has become a source of sustenance for the caster. They must regularly consume small crystallised essence shards to maintain both sound mind and body. Should the caster exceed more than 3 OOC days they would begin a descent into rabid madness. After 6 OOC days they are violent and hostile, seeking to stop at nothing to consume raw essence - be it the flesh of a mage or remnants of an artefact. After 12 OOC days they have become malformed, malnourished, and a fraction of their former self. After 24 OOC days they are permanently killed.​

◈ Parasites of Oblivion: Descendents of this diluted sinisterness are wracked with the curse of oblivion. The caster is unable to process ailments efficiently as the mortal body begins to falter. All negative status effects last an additional (+1) round.​

◈ Frailty of the Flesh: Deep within, raw essence courses through the veins of the fleshscribed. Their blood now blackened like tar. Their skin now a pale form of what once was. Their veins a shimmer of azure and violet; an iridescent, dull glow notable should it not be concealed. Their eyes illumined with essence. As a result of their innate aura, they must declare themselves a fleshscribed Spellcrafter to those Attuned to the Meridian (other Spellcrafters or Thaumaturges) and those of Spirits (Mystics and Druids).​

◈ Disease and Ruin: Bones ache and tendons undulate. The caster's potent magic wracks their mortal form. Perhaps a rejection of the unnatural to their fleshbound husk. They would find themselves taking an additional +1 TOX each time TOX would be taken. For example, if a potion deals 3 TOX, they would take 4 TOX.​

◈ Fixation on the End: The caster is tormented by sin; impending doom. They must choose one reasonably profound fear that would afflict them with a fixation on the end, causing them to receive a -5 to casting rolls while in the presence of the fear.​

◈ Madness and Ire: The splitting of one’s own mind beckons; the horrors that lay within indescribable. The caster is permanently afflicted with Ephemeral Phantasms and occasional Cognitum Discordia.​

◈ Volatility of Greed: The sheer magnitude and presence of excess essence provides with it a bloat of raw power. The caster’s body now permanently wracked with chaos. They can no longer receive positive boons from any quintessence or ectoplasm based effects (such as Druidic Weaving).​

◈ Crawling Skin and Dancing Hairs: The body exhibits a profound level of discomfort. The caster’s hair standing at edge for no apparent reason. Their own flesh feeling foreign and unnatural. They would find themselves physically unable to wear much more than thin or fine fabrics and cloth. They cannot wear armor unless of arcane origin.​

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Once again, a gigantic shoutout to @Laurelin for the Character Template. They've been so gracious in allowing it's continued use and their formatting continues to amaze with each new post!​