Alexiel Lucifen d'Autriche (Done)

Name: Alexiel Lucifen d'Autriche, Also known as Alexiel Lucifen d'Arte or Allen Avadonia. He is sometimes referred to as the Servant of Evil, due to his relation to his sister, who was referred to as the Daughter of Evil to her being well, the stereotypical corrupt noble.

Age, Height, Weight:  He appears 16, though is truly 592, stands 5' 2", and weighs 110 pounds. (Born 809)

Gender:  As manly as two batmen punching eachother with spiked gloves while blindfolded… on top of an erupting volcano, with Careless Whisper playing in the background.

Physical appearance:  Alexiel has blond hair, cut short is tied up in the back in a messy ponytail, he has hetrochromia, with a blue right eye and a red left eye (The left eye contains a pentagram), has several scars on his arms, legs, and chest, from sword-fights before he became a Vampire, though all are covered by his clothes. Finally, each arm has several runes upon it, though they only are visible whilst activated. When active, they are set alight in blue flame. (Though do not actually burn anything such as paper or people.)

Race: Vampire

Class: True Nosferatu (Vampire Class)

Clothing of choice:  

Formal: Yellow Servant's attire, designed by his sister, Rillaine, consisting of a yellow long-sleeved overcoat with black trim and cuffs, a black dress shirt underneath, as well as plain black dress pants and shoes. A black belt is over the top of his coat at the hip to keep it from becoming a cape. Finally, to top it all off, black fingerless gloves. Because fingered gloves are too mainstream.

Servant Attire:

Informal: Whenever he can get away with it, he'll switch to attire Rillaine had made for him with her own hands, a sleeveless white undershirt, white pants, and a black overcoat/cape with a fur around the neck and yellow trim, as well as a sword for ceremonial and training purposes. Also, he has elbow-length black fingerless gloves, and black laced-up boots, the laces being yellow. A bass clef hangs from his neck as a necklace. When he's actually doing training, he'll take the capething off and just wear the white shirt and pants.

Noble Attire. Dat class:

Equipment of choice (starting gear): His clothes... Derp.

Sword: A 42" bladed, 47" total sword designed by his sister for his use. It originally aided him greatly in combat, though now it forms more of a ceremonial purpose.  The weapon can be set alight through the use of an antifaith barrier around the blade and a flame set upon the barrier. The sword has a very heavy latch securing the blade in the sheath, and requires at least a strength stat of 7 to unlatch.

Abilities:

Diva: Alexiel, having been a very devout follower of the Lucifenian Faith, gained the ability to concentrate his Faith in the form of fire and sparks. Within 50 meters, he can create a spontaneous flame of blue fire burning at thousands of degrees, for six posts, though when  used in small quantities, there is no cooldown. (Aka: Anything I don't use in combat. Ex: Lighting a cig) Within and beyond this range, extending to a 100 meter radius, he can create a high-voltage spark, able to light flammable objects on fire. This has shown some use in cooking when a burner's ignition does not work. The main flame can be produced at his fingertips for no negative effect on him. Also, he is able to make an immensely strong physical barrier for six posts. (Appears as a blue wall of light with numerous markings upon it in Lucifenian.) Finally, he can create primitive explosions within a 10 meter radius, similar to a concentrated hand grenade, with the same blast power, but a smaller radius.

Combat: Alexiel is an expert swordsman, specializing in large weapons, strange for his smaller size. He can wield Greatswords with ease, stringing together combination attacks due to his supernatural strength. #Fuckmotheringvampires.

Non-Combat: Previously, when he was alive, he had a great deal of cooking expertise, though now he relies on recipes in order to get it right, as he can't test it himself. :c

He's quite the adept little servant, having perfect balance and coordination, as that was his occupation before Rillaine's death.

Spells:

Conjuration:

Necromancy:

Special Spells:

Raw Stats:

STR: 3 (+5)
DEX: 2 (+5)
INT: 5 (+0)

Organization: Templar Paladins

Rank: The Fucking Servant of Evil/Pet Vampire of the Templar Paladins

Personality: He's a tad shy, and takes a bit to open up to new people. He's responsible, loyal to his superiors, and listens well to others. He doesn't take jokes lightly, and dislikes it extremely when people make fun of him. He feels indifferent about killing, be the unfortunate being he's fighting human, vampire, or anything else. Pride is taken in his work, and he does everything he takes on to the best of his abilities. Though, he has his moments of anger, due to his slightly corrupted mental state from being, oh, I don't know, 592. :L

Biography: Alexiel was born in 809 to his parents Anne and Arth d'Autriche, with his identical twin (Minus the gender) Rillaine, his sister, in the town of Ettenmarch. While Rillaine had focused on her schooling, Alexiel turned his attention to his family's religion, Orthodox Luciferian. He became very involved in the inner workings of the faith, seeing the wonders it could preform enacted by one's voice, noting first how Leonheart Avadonia, a Luciferian Priest in the town was able to light several candles with mere words. After this point, Alexiel began participating less in his academics, and started sneaking off to train with Leonheart.

Around six years later, his parents noticed the difference in the twins's academic abilities, and began to question Alexiel, at one point pulling him off into a side room. At which point, he merely began singing. His father, enraged by his son's apparent ignoring of his questions, (Stupid stuck-up noble dad.) reached out to strike him, only for every candle in the room to simultaneously light with a glowing blue fire. Now in a bout of fear, his Father picked up a sword to strike the boy down, only to be burned alive, along with his mother. Not having intended the action, but overreacting in his panic of being struck, Alexiel had charred the entire room. He hastily exited the room and barricaded the door.

Rillaine found him shortly after, whereupon she asked him of the whereabouts of their parents. Alexiel simply replied that they had disappeared, telling him only that Rillaine had to take over rule of the town. After they discussed it for several hours, Rillaine's pride took hold, and she then took control of Ettenmarch.

For the next four years, everything was Status Quo, or at least, close to it... Okay, That's a lie. Rillaine kept a tight hold on industry in the town, mainly due to having to send the large sums of money to the King, but nonetheless, along with the rest of the people of France, the citizens grew tired of the oppression. In 825, on the 28th, fighting broke out in the streets of Ettenmarch. Though there were only fifty civilians, they set up a barricade around the city hall, hanging a makeshift tri-colored "People's Flag" from the roofline. Rillaine had received orders from the King to quell the revolution in her territory, though she had only ten soldiers.

At 1PM, The Revolutionaries left the barricade, though kept their weapons, thinking that there were no forces that would arrive. As soon as they had walked nearly 100 feet, three of them were downed by two crossbow bolts, and a sharp arrowlike projectile. From the side alleys, the Loyalists ambushed from the side, their armor (Save for Alexiel, who had none.) glancing the majority of the blows. The men began exchanging sword strikes, and it seemed that the Loyalists had the upper hand, until the revolutionaries suddenly all hit the deck. Before anything else could be done, five sharp twangs were ehard, two of the Loyalists going down next to Alexiel, the boy himself being only grazed on the left shoulder, his non-dominant arm, but a vital spot nonetheless.

Again, the frenzy resumed, Revolutionaries jumping up while swinging at the Loyalists from the legs. Another man went down to Alexiel's right. A foolish man in his mid-twenties charged Alexiel from the front, though the boy merely cut him in half utilizing his sword. After a span of only five minutes, the Revolutionaries had thirty men remaining, with the Loyalists only eight. Another bout of crossbow bolts arced down the street, one striking a Revolutionary, another two Loyalists, and yet another grazing Alexiel's cheek.

Thoroughly incensed by this point, Alexiel swung his weapon in a circle twice, slicing two Revolutionaries in half. The street soon, became bathed red with the blood of men of all ages, Revolutionary and Loyalist alike. Swinging with years of practiced skill, Alexiel cut down seven more of the Revolutionaries, his Loyalist allies cut down another eight. (9-5/6) Yet another round of bolts arced down the street, cutting down two more Revolutionaries and another Loyalist. The aim on the primitive, makeshift weapons was horrifying, made worse by the confusion and the imperfections in each arrow. Swinging again one after another, three more Revolutionaries lost their heads, though Alexiel took a shallow swipe to the side. The Loyalists yet again swing in tandem, though the strangest of events occured. Man-for-man, each of them stabbed their counterpart in the throat. All that remained was the mechanical bow division.

Turning towards them at the incredible close range, his feet splashing the blood-soaked ground, Alexiel turned just to see all five crossbows raise up from the reloading position. Acting quickly just as they fired, Alexiel screamed quickly in Lucifenian, A pressure wave of fire moving outwards to meet the projectiles. The bowmen themselves were burnt to ashes, but the arrow points were far too close to have been effected. Four of the arrows pierced his body yet again, hitting his right shoulder, left thigh twice, and the center of his abdomen, throwing the boy over onto his back, and spraying yet more blood into the street. Alexiel fell onto the soaked stone pavement, surrounded by bodies, gore, swords of all kinds. His vision fell upward, as he looked farther down the street. He caught a sight of one thing.

His sight fell upon Rillaine, leaning against the wall.

A single crossbow bolt was embedded in her throat, as the wound seeped blood upon her clothes, the red liquid also flowing from the corners of her mouth. Something... clicked in his mind. The only thing he had ever loved, appreciated, cared for...

Was dead. Slain by some impotent rebels that were complaining of taxes. Seconds after falling, a young, pale woman walked out of a side alley into the street, surveying the damage with a grin. Her vision soon fell upon the only being with a heartbeat, Alexiel. She strode over to him kneeled down, and lifted up the boy's head, licking blood from a wound on his cheek. It was clean, pure, that of a virgin. Sliding her hand along the boy's sword, producing a small cut, she lifted her hand to the boy's lips, a scarlet liquid flowing from the wound."You're just like me... Dying, surrounded with the bodies of your enemies, sword in hand..." seconds after she spoke, a crossbow resounded from behind, the woman's head severed by the bolt. Alexiel began to feel as if he had set his body on fire, but remained silent.

Finally, after about fifteen seconds, a Captain of the rebels entered the alley. Alexiel listened as he kicked Rillaine's body over with a boot, then strode over to survey the damage as Alexiel closed his eyes. Upon hearing the footsteps and feeling blood splash upon his face, Alexiel opened his eyes, the pentagram in his eye seeming to burn with the fire of Hell itself.

"What a pity, Children have no place on ze battlefield." Upon noticing the boy's eyes, the man flinched, then leaped back as a blue fire ignited upon the boy's right hand. Alexiel's injuries healed quickly, blood absorbing into them from the ground.

"Wh-What! D-Demon!" The man drew his sword, but it was for naught, as he was standing in a large pool of blood. And what does blood do?

It conducts electricity, of course. Alexiel, muttering only a short verse in his accursed tongue, summoned a large spark in the blood behind the man, which traveled through the liquid, Up the man's steel armor, and directly to his head, which whereupon exploded, covering the surrounding area in gore, and the boy's face in blood. The boy immediately frowned.

"You die... So easily..."His face contorted into that of rage. "Impotent fool! YOU TAKE MY SISTER, THEN YOU JUST DIE? BURN IN HELL!" Upon his last shout, the man's corpse burst into blue fire, fueled by the boy's rage. Slowly, it dissipated, nothing but ash remaining, the ash being carried  away by the wind, only a puddle of molten steel remaining.

He now had nothing. No targets, nothing to hate, kill, or maim. Nothing to love, care for, or protect. He was... Broken. He had nothing. A void opened up within the boy's mind, consuming everything he had ever known. He had Nothing. Nothing at all for any reason. Slowly, his anger became so great, that a tear formed in one of his eyes. The blood around him began creeping up the sides of his body, inching towards the boy's lips. As it was offered, the broken child drank, as he had nothing left. He drank until there was but a thin coating over the street, hardly a remnant of the river that had once formed from the battle only minutes ago. Soon, the boy was sitting, and he had barely blinked before he was kneeling beside his sister's body. Something... guided him, the boy bending down, his head even to her neck, as he bit into her skin, her lifeblood, identical in every way to his own, poured into his body.

Moments later, the deed had been finished. He knew not why he had drank, but he accepted that he did. He picked her up slightly, leaning against her, and cried. Cried for the first time in his entire life. Picking up her corpse with new reserves of strength, the boy walked towards the family's home on the outskirts of town, whereupon he dug his sister a grave, and buried her. He set her a tombstone, bearing the family's crest of a three-winged triangle. The towns population now merely consisted of the Vampire himself. Alexiel merely turned and began walking north, away from Ettenmarch, eventually coming to the town of Rustleburg, and settling in a tavern.

(Afterward, Giants peacefully took the turn, as there was nobody to resist.)

RP sample:

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