Member
Illium Vethelot
Age: 51
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Element: Fire
Appearance: Illium is an elder man dressed in his old military garment. A somewhat tattered dark green tunic over a chainmail hauberk. Both extend slightly past his waistline so that his belt can properly strap them down while holding up his brown trowsers. He gave up his metal helmet long ago, and instead wears his white hair tied up in a top knot to keep it from being grabbed by the grubby mail. His long spear is usually in his hand, though sometimes he does place it across his lap when sitting.
Personality: Illium is a cynical man, being apart of the military generally does that to you. He never held a high position within the army, but his experience in the field typically allowed him to get away with giving commands when they were in the furnace of war. This led to him keeping a quiet demeanor when separated from his company. Drinking brought out a different side of him. Always quick to laugh after a few sips of ale, this was the only time his reserved disposition changed.
Biography: He grew up in a small farm with parents that always spoke of how proud they were that he would one day take over their family farm. Being a dutiful son, and soon man, he took to his parent's dreams with unspoken ruefulness. He didn't desire to plant field of wheat and corn and hay. He wanted adventure! He wanted glory! Typical of a boy his age. Finally when he was a few years shy of 20, a large man dressed in the raiment of the nearby city came to collect him. They were recruiting for some sort of war. Illium was excited, and his parents devastated. They knew the life of a soldier. They knew that most never made it past the first few years. The young Vethelot had no idea the horrors that he would see throughout his career as a life long soldier. He had no possible idea that this would also be the last time he saw his parents. If he had, there would have been no doubt in his mind he would have resisted the officer at all cost. Nearly 30 years later, Illium was a grizzled soldier with years of experience under his belt. Forgoing the norm of a sword and shield after his first real battle, the green boy had picked up a fallen spear that had barely missed his head after being thrown into the mob. Fending the invaders away, he had managed to keep them at bay long enough for the reinforcements to come in and turn the tide. This was the very spear that he still used and kept sharp. The smell that permeated the air around it was rancid, and the very reason for that was simple. He never cleaned the shaft of it. The leaf shaped blade gleamed with polish, but the long wooden part beneath it was stained with red.
Evolution: Illium can begin using some of his blood magic to begin warping his fighting style. He begins first to discover that he can create any weapon out of his own blood, taking damage any time he reforms it. During this time, his right arm lays in tatters while the weapon is in existance. (Having used his own blood to forge it)
Next, he can begin to seep blood out from the pores on his chest and arms to create armor that is nearly as impenetrable as heavy steel armor.
Finally, he can begin putrefying the blood in his spear to then inflict insurmountable damage to the target of his weapon. Of course when he dissipates his weapon, a small amount of that putrefied blood hurts him as well.
There is no blood magic that doesn't come with some cost to it.
Misc: Most military men would have heard stories about "The Bloodied Spear". And most of those would be false campfire stories that might hold a small kernel of truth within them. The man wielding the mythical blade wasn't well known, but often times he wasn't mentioned. People in battle often claim to have seen "a bloody spear cleaving through the heads of soldiers" or possibly "A flaming spear soaring overhead dripping large tear drops of blood". At this point it was just a legend that had nothing to do with the real story.