Name: Mirak Aquila of Lastwall
Age: 21
Birthday: September 9th
Gender: Male
Class: College
Grade: Freshman
College Major: Divinity
Appearance Description: Mirak is somewhat tall, and slight of build, but athletic, with a slightly tanned complexion. He has long dark hair, sometimes tied back into a moderately high ponytail with a thin ribbon. His eyes are blue and narrow. He has a few freckles beneath both eyes. He usually wears a light gray quilted doublet and riding leggings and boots. He is somewhat fond of gold necklaces and bracelets, and is particular to rubies and spinels. His ears are pierced, but he only wears one modest ruby earring on most occasions.
He has a suit of fine armor with an open-faced helmet, decked with gold filigree, but he tends to wear only the left armlet, gauntlets, and sabatons most of the time.
Mirak carries a leather backpack, with ornate rose-and-thorn motifs on the shoulder straps.
Personality Description: Mirak is very kind, with an extremely generous nature. He is polite, well-mannered, and tends to speak in somewhat passive and poetic language. He is fond of companionship, for practical reasons as well as personal, as his power grows in the company of other passionate people. Unlike some of his kin, Mirak is not too particular about his company, and enjoys making friends and going on adventures and errands with people from all walks of life.
Mirak is a little proud, and a little vain. These fault don't usually get in the way of his compassion, but they can make him come across as condescending and pretentious at times.
Mirak has a tendency to run toward, rather than away from, messy situations. His first instinct is always to solve the problem at hand. At best this is a heroic urge, and at worst sometimes foolhardy, but it is in his nature, for better or for worse. He can tend to be a little bit of a busybody, and is not entirely immune from gossip.
Mirak is known to enjoy an occasional stiff drink, and has impressive fortitude and tolerance when it comes to drinking, but does not drink when he should be working or studying. He is also fond of fine tobacco, incense, and expensive perfumes. Mirak is also an appreciator of fine art, if only an amateur artist himself. He usually carries a sketchbook, pencils, and charcoal in his backpack.
Mirak is compulsive due to his militaristic upbringing about always being armed, and tends to possess a weapon of some kind, even in places that he shouldn't have one. He is sworn to always know where his longsword is, and to have it on him at all times that it is possible, as it is a very important item in his religious practices.
Powers:
Sympathetic Rage: Mirak is strong and fast by human standards, and trained with several martial weapons. However, the blessing of Iomedae provides him with an enormous burst of strength, speed, and endurance for as long as he is in the company of allies who are sick, wounded, enraged, or despairing, roughly doubling to tripling his strength.
At the end of the conflict, when the divine rage wears off, Mirak is usually tremendously exhausted, and requires some rest before his strength and awareness return to normal.
Light Nova: Mirak has the ability to call upon the light of Iomedae to erupt from his body. After a short charging period of a few seconds, this causes a massive burst of wind, followed by searing light in all directions. Those with evil intentions will be burned in the light, while those with good intentions will be gently soothed and have their superficial wounds and burns healed in its glow. Mirak can use this ability three times every day, once after each prayer.
Mirak's gauntlets are charged with a persistent version of this effect. Laying hands upon a good or innocent person will heal them of minor illnesses and wounds, up to some broken bones. Laying hands upon an evil outsider or a person with evil intentions will burn them with a large burst of light, throwing them backwards. Mirak can heal a moderate injury with this ability, but cannot awaken an unconscious or comatose person with it. Likewise the damage that it deals to an evil person is never fatal.
Biography: Mirak was born to merchant parents in the distant kingdom of Lastwall on a faraway world, and conscripted at 13 into the Order of the Temple after a few small run-ins with the local police force involving stealing art from the nobles of the city of Vigil. At eighteen years old, he swore the oath of the Paladin, and took up his longsword and bow, training as a cavalier, and assigned as an officer to a light cavalry unit on the border of a nearby, mostly unknown kingdom.
One fateful day as Mirak said the last words of his prayer and lifted his sword, the signal fires lit, and the trumpets blew, and Mirak rallied his troops and rode out from the wall, into the Ghostfire Marshes, to seek out a scout who had been spotted in the swamps. But as he followed the trail into the thicket, suddenly arrows and flame came raining down upon them as the orcish contingent ambushed him. His horse wounded, he dismounted and drew his sword, but an orcish pikeman burst from the undergrowth and speared him through the chest.
Suddenly, there was an enormous eruption of blinding light, and the whole world swirled into an incendiary vortex, and Mirak fell, not down, or up, or in any particular direction, but simply into another nothingness, and as the screaming torrent of the timestream drizzled him apart, his mind faded to black —
Then, suddenly, he fell. From the deck of the ship, on his back, he counted the stars, not the stars that he knew, but distant ones, and unknown to him, his eyes crossed over the stars of his plane, distant memories they were as he stared lightyears into his own past, unaware. He was scared, and wet, but most importantly, unwounded.
On his shoulder chirped some nuisance. A rat? A bird? An owl?
An owl with a letter?
Additional Information: Mirak is the somewhat reluctant companion of Damian Thysania.
Age: 21
Birthday: September 9th
Gender: Male
Class: College
Grade: Freshman
College Major: Divinity
Appearance Description: Mirak is somewhat tall, and slight of build, but athletic, with a slightly tanned complexion. He has long dark hair, sometimes tied back into a moderately high ponytail with a thin ribbon. His eyes are blue and narrow. He has a few freckles beneath both eyes. He usually wears a light gray quilted doublet and riding leggings and boots. He is somewhat fond of gold necklaces and bracelets, and is particular to rubies and spinels. His ears are pierced, but he only wears one modest ruby earring on most occasions.
He has a suit of fine armor with an open-faced helmet, decked with gold filigree, but he tends to wear only the left armlet, gauntlets, and sabatons most of the time.
Mirak carries a leather backpack, with ornate rose-and-thorn motifs on the shoulder straps.
Personality Description: Mirak is very kind, with an extremely generous nature. He is polite, well-mannered, and tends to speak in somewhat passive and poetic language. He is fond of companionship, for practical reasons as well as personal, as his power grows in the company of other passionate people. Unlike some of his kin, Mirak is not too particular about his company, and enjoys making friends and going on adventures and errands with people from all walks of life.
Mirak is a little proud, and a little vain. These fault don't usually get in the way of his compassion, but they can make him come across as condescending and pretentious at times.
Mirak has a tendency to run toward, rather than away from, messy situations. His first instinct is always to solve the problem at hand. At best this is a heroic urge, and at worst sometimes foolhardy, but it is in his nature, for better or for worse. He can tend to be a little bit of a busybody, and is not entirely immune from gossip.
Mirak is known to enjoy an occasional stiff drink, and has impressive fortitude and tolerance when it comes to drinking, but does not drink when he should be working or studying. He is also fond of fine tobacco, incense, and expensive perfumes. Mirak is also an appreciator of fine art, if only an amateur artist himself. He usually carries a sketchbook, pencils, and charcoal in his backpack.
Mirak is compulsive due to his militaristic upbringing about always being armed, and tends to possess a weapon of some kind, even in places that he shouldn't have one. He is sworn to always know where his longsword is, and to have it on him at all times that it is possible, as it is a very important item in his religious practices.
Powers:
Sympathetic Rage: Mirak is strong and fast by human standards, and trained with several martial weapons. However, the blessing of Iomedae provides him with an enormous burst of strength, speed, and endurance for as long as he is in the company of allies who are sick, wounded, enraged, or despairing, roughly doubling to tripling his strength.
At the end of the conflict, when the divine rage wears off, Mirak is usually tremendously exhausted, and requires some rest before his strength and awareness return to normal.
Light Nova: Mirak has the ability to call upon the light of Iomedae to erupt from his body. After a short charging period of a few seconds, this causes a massive burst of wind, followed by searing light in all directions. Those with evil intentions will be burned in the light, while those with good intentions will be gently soothed and have their superficial wounds and burns healed in its glow. Mirak can use this ability three times every day, once after each prayer.
Mirak's gauntlets are charged with a persistent version of this effect. Laying hands upon a good or innocent person will heal them of minor illnesses and wounds, up to some broken bones. Laying hands upon an evil outsider or a person with evil intentions will burn them with a large burst of light, throwing them backwards. Mirak can heal a moderate injury with this ability, but cannot awaken an unconscious or comatose person with it. Likewise the damage that it deals to an evil person is never fatal.
Biography: Mirak was born to merchant parents in the distant kingdom of Lastwall on a faraway world, and conscripted at 13 into the Order of the Temple after a few small run-ins with the local police force involving stealing art from the nobles of the city of Vigil. At eighteen years old, he swore the oath of the Paladin, and took up his longsword and bow, training as a cavalier, and assigned as an officer to a light cavalry unit on the border of a nearby, mostly unknown kingdom.
One fateful day as Mirak said the last words of his prayer and lifted his sword, the signal fires lit, and the trumpets blew, and Mirak rallied his troops and rode out from the wall, into the Ghostfire Marshes, to seek out a scout who had been spotted in the swamps. But as he followed the trail into the thicket, suddenly arrows and flame came raining down upon them as the orcish contingent ambushed him. His horse wounded, he dismounted and drew his sword, but an orcish pikeman burst from the undergrowth and speared him through the chest.
Suddenly, there was an enormous eruption of blinding light, and the whole world swirled into an incendiary vortex, and Mirak fell, not down, or up, or in any particular direction, but simply into another nothingness, and as the screaming torrent of the timestream drizzled him apart, his mind faded to black —
Then, suddenly, he fell. From the deck of the ship, on his back, he counted the stars, not the stars that he knew, but distant ones, and unknown to him, his eyes crossed over the stars of his plane, distant memories they were as he stared lightyears into his own past, unaware. He was scared, and wet, but most importantly, unwounded.
On his shoulder chirped some nuisance. A rat? A bird? An owl?
An owl with a letter?
Additional Information: Mirak is the somewhat reluctant companion of Damian Thysania.
