History/Story
History:
The story of Silvaetus starts in the Fioren capitol Crocus. There, in the slums, the cesspool of evil that is known as the criminal underworld lived a small family six. With no place to call home, but a family to call his own Silvaetus was happy. Yes life was hard. Every day out on the streets, begging for money, occasionally risking his own skin to steal just that one loaf of bread for his siblings and Parents. There was always a chance that today was going to be your last. A constant threat of starvation or death by simple diseases always lingered. Still despite it all there was little to complain about – he had his loved ones with him.
The Lord giveth and the lord taketh away – as all good things are, they must have an end. At the age of 9 years little Silvaetus witnessed something all too common in the slums: Another group of crooks coming down for their routine plundering session. Only this time they set their sights on the Medley family…and when they couldn’t pay up with cash they had to pay with their bodies. The memory of his father being slowly tormented was burned into the back of the 8-yearold’s skull. The way his eyes were gouged out by red hot iron rods, his teeth and nails pulled out individually, skin peeled off and limbs dismembered until no screams came out of his mouth…those blood-curdling screams of pure agony. They still echo in his mind daily. His mother had it somewhat easier, though it is no one’s place to judge that: Each man had their fun with her and then they ended her life swiftly with a shot to the head. Silvaetus and his sibilings were left alone to fend for themselves. Only him, a younger sister (age 5) and two brothers (both age 7)were now all on their own, fighting for survival against the cruely world that was (to them) Crocus.
Within the next five years Silvaetus provided for his family not by stealing or begging. No those days – he decided – were over. Sure it was still necessary to provide the basics, but there was another way that opened up. At the Age of 10, running from a robbery through the dirty streets of Crocus’s slums, he ran into a mysterious man. As the boy collided with what felt like a metal pole the person turned around to him…and a pair of glowing ember circles stared onto- no through him. Those eyes could see it, the potential hidden within the child.
“Do you wish for purpose?” the person said in a deep calm voice.
“Wh-what?” he stuttered in utter fear.
“Your life as it is has no worth. You live simply to survive, ignorant of your latent abilities. Now I offer you a chance, an opportunity.”
“Hey you! Hand over the kid! This is none of your business” the storekeeper shouted.
“Oh that is where you are wrong my friend. This child is now my business” his voice was so calm, so devoid of any emotion it shook Silvaetus to his very bones…he was paralyzed with an unknown fear, one that gripped him so tightly that he could not breath.
A bright flash of light accompanied by an unnatural roar. A cloak flying away in a gust of wind. Before him stood an entity with human shape, but no human features. It appeared as though it was a machine and yet you knew it was alive. Lights, metal, pipes, steam – it seemed strange, frightening, alien and yet to Silvaetus it was fascinating. That thing in front of him vaporized his pursuers with seemingly no effort at all.
“So what is your answer little one?” it asked, picking up his tattered cloak and draping it around his shoulders.
All Silvaetus could manage was a silent nod.
For the next three years the entity that saved him took care of him and his siblings. It taught Silvaetus of machines, chemicals and biology – how to manipulate them, to construct, contort, rebuild them into nearly anything he desired. First was basic mechanics and magic. Within only a few short months could he construct elaborate trap system, within a year fully automated weapons and other devices…and finally he no longer had to do these things with his own bare hands. Simply by using his mind could he construct any machine, concoct any chemical and even manipulate biological matter.
“You are now ready…”
“For what?”
“The final process. Your graduation and initiation into being a descendent of war.”
“A descendent of what? You taught me how to construct machines! That’s it!”
“No” he said once more in his calm cold tone “You interpreted it that way. I never said it was harmless magic that I was teaching. But that does not matter. You have reached the end. You have no more choice in the path you take. Your destiny now lies in the cogs of machines, the chains of technology.”
The events that transpired after that are a blank. Only the sensation of unfathomable pain remained. As Silvaetus awoke he saw himself covered in bloody bandages, lying in a small pool of his own blood on an operating table somewhere. His chest felt heavy, too heavy in fact. His back ached along with his right eye. Making his way out of the room the boy glanced into a mirror and stopped. Slowly removing the bandages he studied what had been done to him. His right eye was now colored red, on his left chest and back were now some strange machines he could not understand. That is when a message came…but not one on paper. It was a message appearing in his eye, one only he could read. It said few words that would explain everything:
“You now hold it in your hands, the fate of the world. What you do with it is your own choice. Return to your family with your new power and live with this purpose. The purpose of reforming the world to your will or a purpose of your choosing.”
As the message ended a flood of information streamed into his mind. Knowledge of past worlds, of foreign worlds, of what has been and also could be. Knowledge of ancient masteries and advanced technologies. It was like everything became clear, became obvious. He understood the gift he had been given and now embraced it. In utter silence he thanked the man who had deformed him into another person, another being. And still in pain Silvaetus walked out of the building, smiling…returning to his family.
The first thing he did when reunited with his siblings was to instruct them to move. With his new understanding he would provide for his family better than ever before…and to do so he would have to do things, dangerous things. Things that may threaten his siblings, so he moved them to a warehouse in an abandoned part of the slums. Weeks passed and at the end Silvaetus had turned the building into a highly technological compound, littered with lethal traps.
“You think you can offer me something, little boy? YOU?!” The voice of the nobleman echoed through the clear marble halls. Lifting his right hand, Silvaetus searched his mind for a weapon, something to demonstrate his abilities with. Soon after he materialized a short metal rod with only a singular button.
“Oh wow…what you gonna do with that?” the nobleman said ironically.
A press of the button and a blade of energy formed on one end. Silvaetus proceed to slowly cut through the table…the blade cut like a hot knife through butter. That was the end of the demonstration and also the conclusion of his business. For the next three years Silvaetus would be approached by many other nobles to construct weapons or simple machines for them, modifying their manors or equipping their guards with advanced weapons. Pay was good and life was good. He could offer his siblings a nice life (they still stayed in the warehouse for security) and his purpose in life was being fulfilled.
The lord giveth and the lord taketh away – one thing we can take from religion is its lessons. The slums weren’t cruel – the slums were real. They showed life in its true colors. Only once you get away from it you easily forget its teachings; you detach from reality. And when you sway too far from the path, life ensures you remember. It was a day like any other. Silvaetus went to another client, just to drop off his merchandise and collet his reward...only this time it was a little different. When he arrived at the meeting point it was deserted, not a soul in sight. Only a note was left dangling from a piece of string. On it in elegantly curved letters it said “Greetings from the Arlington family”. The Arlingtons were a band of noble families. They worked together to further their own riches by extorting the poor and punishing those who were unwilling to compply. Silvaetus knew that, but he thought he was better than the rest, smarter, better prepared. This illusion was now shattered by the judging hammers of reality: something was wrong. If they weren’t after him then the enemy could only have gone after his family. And even though he was so sure to have secured his home, there was a lingering feeling of worry, a stifled emotion of panic.
By the time the young lad arrived it had been too late. Despite all his precautions the warehouse was in flames. He stormed into the building shouting his siblings’ names but no answer came back. Suddenly something grabbed his shoulder – a charred hand. As Silvaetus turned he saw what could only have been one of his brothers. “Help me…” the charred boy gasped before being engorged in flames once more and once more did agonized screams echo in Silvaetus ears. He felt useless, incapable of doing anything but watch his little brother burn alive in the unforgiving flames.
---------------Darkness-----------------
For the next year no trace of Silvaetus Medley could be found…until one day from a secluded village not far from the city of Magnolia came reports of a mad man. He had destroyed several towns belonging to noblemen, slaughtering every single person present. His motives remained unknown as did his identity.
“You…all of you…you work for them don’t you! Yes! Yes! Yes you do! All of you are responsible! You work for THEM! You serve their every whim! I will never forgive any of you! NEVER! Now you shall perish in this fire! In the rubble you call home! JUST LIKE MY FAMILY DID! YOU WILL SHARE THEIR FATE! SUFFER THE PAIN THEY FELT! SUFFER THE PAIN I FEEL! You there! Get over here…” the man approaches the recording lacrima and the video ends.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the incident Silvaetus’s mind had shattered. Left without home, family or any purpose he had walked through the city, past the gates and into the open wild. For days he had marched aimlessly, catatonic. After 5 days he came to a halt. His mind had finally been put back together…only it wasn’t the same. You can put together a shattered vase and say it is the same. But in reality it is no longer the old vase but something compltetely different. It has holes and leaks, cracks and missing pieces. The same goes for the mind. He was back and yet he was not. This person, this entity thought differently, it reasoned differently, it behaved differently. Its logic was flawed yet its intellect was unaffected. So in in his madness he dove into research and inconsistent reasoning. When he was done he would reemerge to take his revenge.
RP Sample: (A piece of hoyou RP)
Face Claim: /
History:
The story of Silvaetus starts in the Fioren capitol Crocus. There, in the slums, the cesspool of evil that is known as the criminal underworld lived a small family six. With no place to call home, but a family to call his own Silvaetus was happy. Yes life was hard. Every day out on the streets, begging for money, occasionally risking his own skin to steal just that one loaf of bread for his siblings and Parents. There was always a chance that today was going to be your last. A constant threat of starvation or death by simple diseases always lingered. Still despite it all there was little to complain about – he had his loved ones with him.
The Lord giveth and the lord taketh away – as all good things are, they must have an end. At the age of 9 years little Silvaetus witnessed something all too common in the slums: Another group of crooks coming down for their routine plundering session. Only this time they set their sights on the Medley family…and when they couldn’t pay up with cash they had to pay with their bodies. The memory of his father being slowly tormented was burned into the back of the 8-yearold’s skull. The way his eyes were gouged out by red hot iron rods, his teeth and nails pulled out individually, skin peeled off and limbs dismembered until no screams came out of his mouth…those blood-curdling screams of pure agony. They still echo in his mind daily. His mother had it somewhat easier, though it is no one’s place to judge that: Each man had their fun with her and then they ended her life swiftly with a shot to the head. Silvaetus and his sibilings were left alone to fend for themselves. Only him, a younger sister (age 5) and two brothers (both age 7)were now all on their own, fighting for survival against the cruely world that was (to them) Crocus.
Within the next five years Silvaetus provided for his family not by stealing or begging. No those days – he decided – were over. Sure it was still necessary to provide the basics, but there was another way that opened up. At the Age of 10, running from a robbery through the dirty streets of Crocus’s slums, he ran into a mysterious man. As the boy collided with what felt like a metal pole the person turned around to him…and a pair of glowing ember circles stared onto- no through him. Those eyes could see it, the potential hidden within the child.
“Do you wish for purpose?” the person said in a deep calm voice.
“Wh-what?” he stuttered in utter fear.
“Your life as it is has no worth. You live simply to survive, ignorant of your latent abilities. Now I offer you a chance, an opportunity.”
“Hey you! Hand over the kid! This is none of your business” the storekeeper shouted.
“Oh that is where you are wrong my friend. This child is now my business” his voice was so calm, so devoid of any emotion it shook Silvaetus to his very bones…he was paralyzed with an unknown fear, one that gripped him so tightly that he could not breath.
A bright flash of light accompanied by an unnatural roar. A cloak flying away in a gust of wind. Before him stood an entity with human shape, but no human features. It appeared as though it was a machine and yet you knew it was alive. Lights, metal, pipes, steam – it seemed strange, frightening, alien and yet to Silvaetus it was fascinating. That thing in front of him vaporized his pursuers with seemingly no effort at all.
“So what is your answer little one?” it asked, picking up his tattered cloak and draping it around his shoulders.
All Silvaetus could manage was a silent nod.
For the next three years the entity that saved him took care of him and his siblings. It taught Silvaetus of machines, chemicals and biology – how to manipulate them, to construct, contort, rebuild them into nearly anything he desired. First was basic mechanics and magic. Within only a few short months could he construct elaborate trap system, within a year fully automated weapons and other devices…and finally he no longer had to do these things with his own bare hands. Simply by using his mind could he construct any machine, concoct any chemical and even manipulate biological matter.
“You are now ready…”
“For what?”
“The final process. Your graduation and initiation into being a descendent of war.”
“A descendent of what? You taught me how to construct machines! That’s it!”
“No” he said once more in his calm cold tone “You interpreted it that way. I never said it was harmless magic that I was teaching. But that does not matter. You have reached the end. You have no more choice in the path you take. Your destiny now lies in the cogs of machines, the chains of technology.”
The events that transpired after that are a blank. Only the sensation of unfathomable pain remained. As Silvaetus awoke he saw himself covered in bloody bandages, lying in a small pool of his own blood on an operating table somewhere. His chest felt heavy, too heavy in fact. His back ached along with his right eye. Making his way out of the room the boy glanced into a mirror and stopped. Slowly removing the bandages he studied what had been done to him. His right eye was now colored red, on his left chest and back were now some strange machines he could not understand. That is when a message came…but not one on paper. It was a message appearing in his eye, one only he could read. It said few words that would explain everything:
“You now hold it in your hands, the fate of the world. What you do with it is your own choice. Return to your family with your new power and live with this purpose. The purpose of reforming the world to your will or a purpose of your choosing.”
As the message ended a flood of information streamed into his mind. Knowledge of past worlds, of foreign worlds, of what has been and also could be. Knowledge of ancient masteries and advanced technologies. It was like everything became clear, became obvious. He understood the gift he had been given and now embraced it. In utter silence he thanked the man who had deformed him into another person, another being. And still in pain Silvaetus walked out of the building, smiling…returning to his family.
The first thing he did when reunited with his siblings was to instruct them to move. With his new understanding he would provide for his family better than ever before…and to do so he would have to do things, dangerous things. Things that may threaten his siblings, so he moved them to a warehouse in an abandoned part of the slums. Weeks passed and at the end Silvaetus had turned the building into a highly technological compound, littered with lethal traps.
“You think you can offer me something, little boy? YOU?!” The voice of the nobleman echoed through the clear marble halls. Lifting his right hand, Silvaetus searched his mind for a weapon, something to demonstrate his abilities with. Soon after he materialized a short metal rod with only a singular button.
“Oh wow…what you gonna do with that?” the nobleman said ironically.
A press of the button and a blade of energy formed on one end. Silvaetus proceed to slowly cut through the table…the blade cut like a hot knife through butter. That was the end of the demonstration and also the conclusion of his business. For the next three years Silvaetus would be approached by many other nobles to construct weapons or simple machines for them, modifying their manors or equipping their guards with advanced weapons. Pay was good and life was good. He could offer his siblings a nice life (they still stayed in the warehouse for security) and his purpose in life was being fulfilled.
The lord giveth and the lord taketh away – one thing we can take from religion is its lessons. The slums weren’t cruel – the slums were real. They showed life in its true colors. Only once you get away from it you easily forget its teachings; you detach from reality. And when you sway too far from the path, life ensures you remember. It was a day like any other. Silvaetus went to another client, just to drop off his merchandise and collet his reward...only this time it was a little different. When he arrived at the meeting point it was deserted, not a soul in sight. Only a note was left dangling from a piece of string. On it in elegantly curved letters it said “Greetings from the Arlington family”. The Arlingtons were a band of noble families. They worked together to further their own riches by extorting the poor and punishing those who were unwilling to compply. Silvaetus knew that, but he thought he was better than the rest, smarter, better prepared. This illusion was now shattered by the judging hammers of reality: something was wrong. If they weren’t after him then the enemy could only have gone after his family. And even though he was so sure to have secured his home, there was a lingering feeling of worry, a stifled emotion of panic.
By the time the young lad arrived it had been too late. Despite all his precautions the warehouse was in flames. He stormed into the building shouting his siblings’ names but no answer came back. Suddenly something grabbed his shoulder – a charred hand. As Silvaetus turned he saw what could only have been one of his brothers. “Help me…” the charred boy gasped before being engorged in flames once more and once more did agonized screams echo in Silvaetus ears. He felt useless, incapable of doing anything but watch his little brother burn alive in the unforgiving flames.
---------------Darkness-----------------
For the next year no trace of Silvaetus Medley could be found…until one day from a secluded village not far from the city of Magnolia came reports of a mad man. He had destroyed several towns belonging to noblemen, slaughtering every single person present. His motives remained unknown as did his identity.
“You…all of you…you work for them don’t you! Yes! Yes! Yes you do! All of you are responsible! You work for THEM! You serve their every whim! I will never forgive any of you! NEVER! Now you shall perish in this fire! In the rubble you call home! JUST LIKE MY FAMILY DID! YOU WILL SHARE THEIR FATE! SUFFER THE PAIN THEY FELT! SUFFER THE PAIN I FEEL! You there! Get over here…” the man approaches the recording lacrima and the video ends.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the incident Silvaetus’s mind had shattered. Left without home, family or any purpose he had walked through the city, past the gates and into the open wild. For days he had marched aimlessly, catatonic. After 5 days he came to a halt. His mind had finally been put back together…only it wasn’t the same. You can put together a shattered vase and say it is the same. But in reality it is no longer the old vase but something compltetely different. It has holes and leaks, cracks and missing pieces. The same goes for the mind. He was back and yet he was not. This person, this entity thought differently, it reasoned differently, it behaved differently. Its logic was flawed yet its intellect was unaffected. So in in his madness he dove into research and inconsistent reasoning. When he was done he would reemerge to take his revenge.
RP Sample: (A piece of hoyou RP)
Face Claim: /
