PlatinumSkinkName: Velethuil Elro
Race: Unseelie Fae
Gender: Male
Age: ???
Personality: Like all Fae, Velethuil is a deal-maker. Bargain with him at your peril, as any debt will be collected on whether you want it to be or not. Worded bonds create power, which he capitalises on to great effect. Each interaction is carefully chosen to never allow for an advantage to be gained over him. He isn’t sadistic, despite this, it is merely in his nature. A gleefulness accompanies a job well done. Coldly intellectual, Velethuil doesn’t view things through rose-tinted glasses, but rather seeing things exactly as they are. Caring not about emotions or morals, he will do whatever helps him the most in any given situation. Serving only his own interest, he plays politics like a great game sweeping through the Bravado upper echelon like a ghost, meeting those players with the most power and seeing how they can be of use. Velethuil is characterised by a razor-sharp wit and silver tongue.
Bio: In their defense, it’s hard to tell and Elf and a Fae apart.
Both hair pointy ears, both have too-perfect features. Only one is dangerous in a conversation. It hadn’t even been difficult. Challenging the drunken noble to a game of cards, then throwing harder than a dwarf does his fists. Offering a small gift to the far superior player, she greedily accepted the token. Trap set.
Naturally, offering another game with higher stakes met the anticipated response. She was more than happy to oblige him, seeing the chance for more riches. The hand dealt to him was nothing short of rotten, but that didn’t matter. As the last play approached, he asked her to come good on their debt. Obviously, that was met with a quizzical look. The gift had locked them into a contract, one which she now had to pay, in the form of conceding the match. A favour for a favour. Velethuil smiled. Trap sprung.
Hurling all the insults under the sun, she was utterly powerless to stop the unfolding events. Despite the game being poker, he held all the cards. The choice was simple, give up and lose her title, estate and riches. Or don’t, and leave a Fae with all the power he wanted over you until the debt was satisfied.
Reminiscing old events was fantastic, especially when accompanied by a soft velvet chair and glass of fine wine in an opulent mansion. That definitely helped things. Things had taken a rather nasty turn when she produced an iron dagger and swung with it, but the guards quickly subdued her. What he had done wasn’t illegal, it was common knowledge to never deal with a Fae. Thankfully, the nobles of Bravado fancied themselves more intelligent than the rest of the world, which made them easy pickings. Still, he was thankful for not having to deal with that again. A steel bolt had once found it’s merry way into his side, and the scar was still there. Had it been pure iron, he wouldn’t be sitting here now.
Regardless, it was time to stop mulling over old memories. He had too many to count as it was, and there was a dinner waiting for him at a Lord’s estate, just up the roar. More drunken nobles, ripe for the taking.
Weapons: Snark.
Equipment: Fine, dark-blue and black regalia. A heavy black cloak with white fur lining.
Special Skills: Faerie magic, including glamour to change appearance if need be.
Ability to leverage outstanding deals to influence and bind people.
Expert of ice magic.
Race: Unseelie Fae
Gender: Male
Age: ???
Personality: Like all Fae, Velethuil is a deal-maker. Bargain with him at your peril, as any debt will be collected on whether you want it to be or not. Worded bonds create power, which he capitalises on to great effect. Each interaction is carefully chosen to never allow for an advantage to be gained over him. He isn’t sadistic, despite this, it is merely in his nature. A gleefulness accompanies a job well done. Coldly intellectual, Velethuil doesn’t view things through rose-tinted glasses, but rather seeing things exactly as they are. Caring not about emotions or morals, he will do whatever helps him the most in any given situation. Serving only his own interest, he plays politics like a great game sweeping through the Bravado upper echelon like a ghost, meeting those players with the most power and seeing how they can be of use. Velethuil is characterised by a razor-sharp wit and silver tongue.
Bio: In their defense, it’s hard to tell and Elf and a Fae apart.
Both hair pointy ears, both have too-perfect features. Only one is dangerous in a conversation. It hadn’t even been difficult. Challenging the drunken noble to a game of cards, then throwing harder than a dwarf does his fists. Offering a small gift to the far superior player, she greedily accepted the token. Trap set.
Naturally, offering another game with higher stakes met the anticipated response. She was more than happy to oblige him, seeing the chance for more riches. The hand dealt to him was nothing short of rotten, but that didn’t matter. As the last play approached, he asked her to come good on their debt. Obviously, that was met with a quizzical look. The gift had locked them into a contract, one which she now had to pay, in the form of conceding the match. A favour for a favour. Velethuil smiled. Trap sprung.
Hurling all the insults under the sun, she was utterly powerless to stop the unfolding events. Despite the game being poker, he held all the cards. The choice was simple, give up and lose her title, estate and riches. Or don’t, and leave a Fae with all the power he wanted over you until the debt was satisfied.
Reminiscing old events was fantastic, especially when accompanied by a soft velvet chair and glass of fine wine in an opulent mansion. That definitely helped things. Things had taken a rather nasty turn when she produced an iron dagger and swung with it, but the guards quickly subdued her. What he had done wasn’t illegal, it was common knowledge to never deal with a Fae. Thankfully, the nobles of Bravado fancied themselves more intelligent than the rest of the world, which made them easy pickings. Still, he was thankful for not having to deal with that again. A steel bolt had once found it’s merry way into his side, and the scar was still there. Had it been pure iron, he wouldn’t be sitting here now.
Regardless, it was time to stop mulling over old memories. He had too many to count as it was, and there was a dinner waiting for him at a Lord’s estate, just up the roar. More drunken nobles, ripe for the taking.
Weapons: Snark.
Equipment: Fine, dark-blue and black regalia. A heavy black cloak with white fur lining.
Special Skills: Faerie magic, including glamour to change appearance if need be.
Ability to leverage outstanding deals to influence and bind people.
Expert of ice magic.