Thrax De'Vir

Description:

Name: Thrax De’Vir
Age: 139
Height: 6’1"
Weight: 130 lbs
Skin Color: Dusky Purple
Eye Color: Red
Hair Color: Silver
He wear’s hardened silk armor and a hooded Shawl with goggles. On his belt tunic are several pockets holding seeds and regents. On his back lies a Scythe inscribed with Druidic Symbols.

Bio:

As the sun sets on a summer night in Zilevo, the true nature of the forest is revealed. The moon’s subtle rays pierce through the thick canopy of branches to barely illuminate the forest floor. Few humanoids stay out past dusk in the jungle, but this is a special occasion; there is a bounty to collect, a prize to be won.

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“Dammit, Saf, did we have to come out here at night? I cant see shit!” griped a very weary Larick.

“I already told you,” said Safar “we get the drop on ‘em while they’re sleepin’. We scalp’em and get the hell out’a dodge before someone else comes to collect the bounty”

Another day another job. It was always like this for Saf. This had become his life, one odd job to the next, but something had to put food on the table. At least this wasn’t the thick part of the woods…or god forbid…the Jungle. Looking back to the map given to them, they were close to the area where these druids were supposed to be. Some horrible smelling elf had given them directions and a bounty to collect.

Lorick walked beside his partner to peer over his shoulder at the map “Are you sure we should be doing this Saf? I mean, ain’t Druids good people?”

“Look all I know is that this job’s payin’ good money, he showed it to me. Don’t matter much what kinda people they are. If they got a bounty, they can’t be too nice, now can they?”

“We’re gettin’ close. I can smell their campfire”

“If they had a campfire, we’d be able to see the smo-”

Safar halted his words as he felt the crumble of a large piece of burnt wood under his boot. The ash floated into the air. Lorick walked closer to a nearby tree and scraped at it with a gritty fingernail under the lamplight. Charcoal. The Entire area around them was a scorched wasteland.

“Hmph. Some druids! Lets hope this fire didn’t get them before we can. A burnt scalp ain’t worth a damn thing.” Lorick said with a sigh “Lets keep goin’, the clearings supposed to be up here.”

They walked a half mile further, and crouched in the bushes as they approached the ashen clearing, in the center of which, lay 3 tents and a recently doused fire pit. After 20 minutes of planning and sharpening of Lorick’s Axe, the two stealthily walked toward the tents. Safar drew his blade. The clearing was quite, and each step was a gamble of waking up and having to deal with an angry druid fighting for it’s life.

Drawing back the flap to the tent, Lorick’s axe was raised above his head, ready to strike at the bundled figure before him. WIth a single chop, the axe tore through the bundle of blankets and into the earth.

“What the fuck? Saf, it’s a tr-” Lorick’s words are cut short by crumbling earth and falling debris.
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Safar awoke with a grunt. He was bound. Rope? No, Rope isn’t this sticky.
As his vision adapted to dim light in the cave Safar saw web. Everywhere. The entirety of the small cave he was in was covered in thick web. Looking around, he was not prepared for the horror for which he was exposed to.
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With all of his will taken not to scream, Safar’s flight or fight kicked in: Flight.
Think..Think!….
Reaching at his belt for his blade produced no results, but a pouch on his side yielded a small arrowhead.
If I could just get one hand free…
Having to watch his friend be eaten by this Spider Bitch was less than appealing, but if it gave him time to get free, who was he to complain? Cutting a hole large enough for his hand, Safar threw his arm up with a roar, ripping the webbing from his abdomen along with it. With a zealous charge, Safar threw himself into the Drider with all his strength, knocking it against the wall and buying him time to make for the exit to the small cave. He Saw Light.

Thank God he thought as he raced down the corridor, following the light. Web Everywhere. The seconds felt like years as Safar fled for his life. This Corridor was too small for the Spider. After a minute of running, Safar found himself at a door. Bracing himself, and Grabbing a nearby rock for a weapon, he opened the door.
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Behind him the door slammed shut. A large green and purple spider descended down from a thick strand of web from above the door. As the spider’s legs hit the ground, they turned to feet; the maw of pincers and mandibles now the chiseled jaw of a mature Drow with red eyes. The smell of burning flesh filled the room.
“I’m guessing you’ve come to collect your bounty” he chuckled to himself, and spoke a phrase in a language unknown to Safar. The halls echoed with skittering.
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The Drow walked toward him and withdrew a pouch of coins, throwing it at Safar’s feet. “Don’t spend it all in one place”
Each of Safar’s Arms were suddenly grasped by the strong arms of Drow on either side of him. Paralyzed with the events of the day, Safar was speechless. Chitinous legs grew from the man’s back and his grin turned back to fangs. Safar’s Vision went black as the brood descended upon him.

Thrax was born and raised in the harshness of the Zilevo wilds. The Drow society of the cave systems belonging to this region are home to several Druids, many of which go on to use their natural powers to eventually ascend to their preferred form and highest rank in society: The Drider.

Without destruction there can be no renewal, and nature is a very talented source of Destruction. Such Druids that follow the path of destruction offer natural catastrophe and decay aid, and see the darker side of nature. To a Blight Druid, Life and Death are two sides of the same coin. Growth and Decay. Light and Dark.

The Zilevean Jungle can only yield so many ingredients, only so many test subjects. Only so many Biomes can be found on this island, a limited supply of corruptible life. Travel has always been Thrax’s passion, because it gives him new work opportunities, doing his Druidic Duty to the world.

Speeding up Natural Selection by Preying on the Weak.
Allowing new environments to Emerge in the wake of a natural disaster.
Spreading the gift of Blight to the World.

Thrax De'Vir

Descent SwilliamX DaneDewitt