Neutral Unicorn Wanderer Novice
Alignment Species Rank Buff
78 Stallion — he/him 17hh 70ʜs
Age Sex Height Currency



Two black horns, the first smaller than the other, protrude from a head that is always held high. A Warlander edging on the taller side, he is covered in a grullo coat; lighter around his barrel, and growing darker towards his head, and legs. There is dark striping along his rump, and his hair is flaxen in color. His eyes are pupilless and white, a sign and reminder that he was born, and once held magic within his blood. Said eyes once upon a time glowed when performing sorcery, and do so once more.

Black warpaint remains brushed across the front of his face, eyes, and the bottom of his cheeks. This same black paint circles around both his forelegs. It remains as a reminder of times that have past. Old wrappings tied around his left hind leg do the same, covering wounds that remain cursed and unhealed from war.

His body is adorned with a red cloak and a strand of gold beads that are wrapped around his neck three times. Both items are physical representations of a status he once held, but now it is one he no longer wishes to speak of. Along with these reminders, his hooves are dipped in gold, another sign of the social status he once held.



A man that stands in the back of the room, doing nothing to draw attention to himself yet everyone always seem to notice him sooner or later. An individual that is known not to speak much about himself yet is able to give off an authenticity that makes others perceive that he is an open book. With a charming attitude, he has the ability to pull others towards him with a warm smile alone, yet most of the times he approaches those unknown to him in a cool manner -- dropping jokes or a sarcastic gibe every now and then to make others comfortable.

Socialization skills have long been honed and developed well over time due to life in court. He can speak words easily when they are faux but can stumble along when they turn a shade truer. His posture emits a self-confidence and independent attitude, yet it covers a hidden layer built for obeying and complying. He may know he is of value, but that does not negate the years and years of obedience that have been drilled into him. He has grown rather diplomatic due to exposure to politics and now tends to be a mediator more often than not. This has only grown more prominent as he has aged.

Taking away all these things, there is a side reserved for those who he considers familiars. They see a side of affectionate bumping, teasing, and quips; a genuinely caring and wise man who will remain loyal to those he thinks are worth it.

Although there is now something brewing inside of his worn body; something laid to rest long ago. It is a restlessness that itches and squirms, resulting in him being more uneasy now. He does not know the reason behind it, only when it first began and when it intensified. He must find a way to keep it under control, lest he finds himself under its control instead.


There are lands were individuals naturally born with sorcery in their veins are rare. These individuals are immediately seen as cursed and something to be exploited. So one must take the child while they are young so that they will have their undivided loyalty. This is why, upon learning that Avallac'h had an affinity for such arts, the Crown came for him and his mother allowed it. It was his magic, something he had no control over, that made him a prisoner so early on in life.

Enslaved is what he became, chained and tethered to the court. Yes, his living arrangement was better than at home, but a cage is still a cage, no matter how dazzling it may appear. Thrown into quarters where he lived among both those with and without sorcery he was put to work immediately. Starting out, he was left to do the more mundane tasks (something befitting of a foal), learning how to better his talent on the side by other enslaved mages. It was not long before he was considered mature enough to take on... different tasks, ones that involved him becoming a personal servant to visiting delegates and diplomates of the court.

He was a sheep, following orders without question -- the perfect servant.

Another night had passed, one that involved him being in the company of drunk diplomates. It is here that he comes to a decision: he'd not remain in this position anymore. No more would he be told to obey. This is where sharing the company of such influential individuals had its perks, and with well-placed words and doubts he found himself slowly working up and away from a lowly servant and towards something far more valuable. He would show them that he was not something to dismiss.

Despite this change, he still was not satisfied. He now held an admirable position, had better food, drink, and place to stay, but it wasn't what he wanted. None of it was what he wanted, but it would do for the time being. Just so long as it got him away from where he was before

He could never escape what he was though, and that was made clear when the war came. Word of it had been floating through the court for some time before then, and he had thought himself safe but he was quickly put in his place after trying to dissuade the Crown from partaking in such a thing. "You owe the Crown your life" they had said, and so it was decided that he would fight. No matter what position he had, his magic was an asset that they needed on the battlefield, and so, he was deployed.

It was not clean nor quick. The war was long and taxing. Those involved faced many trials, and many never came to speak of them once back. He had done things that to this day he is not proud of, nor is keen on speaking of either. To this day he is unsure of who actually won. He entered against his will, and once again, just like when he was a child, it was due to the Crown and his sorcery. It is only after the war that something new sparked inside though, and it flared at the thought of the Crown.

He remained only long enough for the pain in his unhealed leg to subside.

He left. He would no longer be cowed into submission or told to comply against his will. He fled in the middle of the night, unbeknownst to the rest of the court. He had learned his lesson, and he would not partake in any wars or follow another so loyally ever again. He flourished out in the world, the individuals he ran into never being of the Court -- they were nothing compared to what he had already faced.

It was the start of something wonderful. He fell into their games and desires freely, enjoying every second of it.

He continuously wandered, and it is this endless wandering that led him to the Passage of Caeleste. It had been unassuming at first sight, that is until he felt his chest grew hollow. This is how he found a solution to a lifelong burden. Within the Passage his magic was stripped away, leaving him bare and empty. Something was missing, but it was the first time he felt absolute relief. The thing that had been the source of his enslavement was no longer with him. He could, for once, actually breathe.

It seemed Caeleste had more in store for him though, for it was only just after entering that he ran into her. Independent, stubborn, determined -- a woman that lured him in. Huntington. She led him from the Passage and became a source of curiosity and interest. He doesn't know how, nor why, but there was something, and he wasn't about to let it slip through his grasp. He had made a promise to himself to never become loyal to another ever again, but he found himself doing just that when it came to her.

Suddenly, nothing. She had disappeared, and curse his attachment that should have never formed. He went searching; asking and following every lead (how he scolded and mocked himself along the way).

It is through words of small sightings that he came to be in Nordlys. Then, he found her.

Things did not go as planned. Their reunion was met with sharp words -- from her, that is. She had left for a reason, and did not want to be found. Despite his thoughts inside saying otherwise, he said he would leave her alone.

And that is where she left him, in the streets of Morthalion with hardly a goodbye. He had travelled for so long, so far all for nothing. He had wanted to try to make amends, but he is far from overbearing. Despite knowing Huntington did not want him anywhere near, he stayed within the cobbled streets of Morthalion and rested. His body had grown tired in his travels after all.

The streets of Morthalion became suffocating, though, and he soon found himself leaving to see what the new land around him had to offer. He started to learn what little he could of Nordlys, of her people, and her beliefs. This was hardly done through reading, no, instead it was done through meeting her people. From the Icarus of Dirtharest to the Eventidians of Ard Maleficar. They were all unique and new. He was content with wandering their lands and homes and learning more.

He ran into Huntington once again, though, found her call for a spar and answered it with hardly a thought. He was greedy for her presence, and if it took a spar to get it then so be it. Little did he know that would be the last time he would see her. She disappeared once more, and unlike last time he did not follow. He had learned his lesson.

He did not expect the consequences that partaking in a spar would bring though. It had been so long since he had been involved in one, and he thought nothing would come of it, but he was wrong. An old, sickly feeling returned. One that he could remember feeling so long ago when the war laid on the horizon. It caused him to grow restless (dare he say even scared) and made him want to move, move, move. He found himself feeling less relaxed and at ease, and it irritated him.

Then the call from Lars came. It was a summons that rumbled deep through the earth and in the crack of thunder. He answered the beasts call, and never did he expect what would come of it. The missing piece, the piece that defined his life and set into motion his time in the Court. His sorcery was restored (albiet at more than half its strength, for it could hardly be called a trickle) and the hollowness inside his chest wept with its return. Having his sorcery taken away had made him realize how important it really was.

One would believe this helped, but in reality the small return of his sorcery woke the beast further. The restlessness inside grew beyond proportions and he found himself dancing to its tune like a puppet. Spars and thoughtless pacing kept him within the land of Dirtharest while the feeling continued to ravage him. He had a task to complete, though, and he would no matter what.


Familiar. Companion. Love Interest.



With the ability to manifest and manipulate the very energy his body creates Avallac'h's magic is an extension of himself. It is the color of dull yellow and is something he has had since the day he was born. With it having been taken away during his entrance to another realm, Avallac'h has only just had it returned to him and must work his way back up to being the great sorcerer he was when the war came.


A magic triggered by the use of Avallac'h's sorcery. His eyes give off an ethereal glow before and during use, the glow becomes brighter if he uses a larger amount.

At this level, the energy he creates is forming at a little more than a trickle. It is made slowly and is depleted quickly. At this level, he will only be able to do nothing more than a few quick sparks or flashes. A simple manifestation that can be used as a distraction at best. He isn't able to manipulate the energy to interact with anything physical at this time. When using whatever energy he has stored it will cause a pounding headache and make him queasy if depleted, used quickly, or for long. Also, if his small amount of stored energy is about to be filled, he finds that it has a tendency to shoot out a few sparks on its own due to being unable to hold anymore.

Not able to do much more than before, but he is able to maintain a manifestation of his energy for a minute or two longer, and can now use this energy to push objects. A simple push that does little else. He is beginning to test what else he can do with his energy at this point. The queasiness has now passed but headaches remain, but only when he pushes himself. He is able to store more and keep it stored longer. His energy has less of a tendency to randomly create sparks on its own.

His energy is now forming at a consistent flow. Manifesting it comes to him easily and there are no longer any side effects due to overusing other than simple tiredness (along with being depleted and having to wait for more energy to fill his core). He is now able to keep a steady manifestation of his energy and put actual force behind it. While no more than a very powerful shove, it can cause bruising/damage. He has also learned that he can send out burst of energy that can sting, although the aim of these is off most of the time. He is growing more confident in himself and continues to try and recreate old manifestations he once did.

A master of his energy, he now almost never runs out. He is able to keep a significant amount held inside. Although there is still the possibility he can be pushed, and if done he still grows tired. He is now able to precisely control how much force he puts into energy and can accurately aim his bursts of energy with the possibility to stun now along with sting harshly. He has discovered that he is now able to create a constricting hold as well, one that can wrap around a leg and keep one from leaving or moving. While his body may not be as it once was, the energy that he holds is the same as ever. This was him at his peak during battle. He now uses his magic throughout his daily life, grasping objects and to zap those he is familiar with.


Arms & Armor

Trinkets & Accessories

A red cloak lined in gold with embelishments hanging from the area around his neck. The cloak held tight by a golden pin.
A dark mend can now be found on it from a spar in the area just below his throat.

A necklace of gold beads is tightly wrapped around his neck three times.
5 11 5 65 Novice 0
2 4 6 5 0 0 0 0


Battle VP: 1
Altered Stats due to advanced age +++Wisdom and Luck.


Alchemy VP: 0


Stealth VP: 0


Avatar: MykalaBlue
Manipulation: Narcissiist
Fullbody: AmeAmeridian
Pixel: are-we-dancers
Appearance Headshot: argenticide


OOC name: Neamrel
Plotter: link
Threadlog: link
Table Tracker: link