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☽ Aatu Eidunar ☾
22 / Male / Binnes / 5'5
☾☾☾ Knight / Blood Rewriter ☽☽☽
☾☾☾ Knight / Blood Rewriter ☽☽☽
Blood Ties: Provided that Aatu has physical contact with another person's blood, he is able to manipulate it to a limited degree. Although it is somewhat unclear what capabilities and limitations this power has, it does have a few known applications that Aatu has explored. He can draw his victim's blood out, causing them to suffer from the effects of massive blood loss - provided that he has the time to do this. Although it has only occurred a few times in Aatu's experience, if he finds himself particularly enraged at the victim, their blood may literally boil and curdle within their veins. Most of the time this simply reduces the target to a stupefied, gurgling haze. His powers seem largely dependent on his mood when he has trapped his prey. Thus, Aatu doesn't appear to have much control over his capabilities, and attempts to open wounds can result in cauterizing them instead, and vice versa. Because of this, his powers are rarely used - but the more he uses them, the more he feels like he must. Aatu must maintain physical contact at all times in order for his abilities to work.
Unwanted Child: By cutting into his own flesh, and spilling his own blood Aatu can channel small amounts of controlled, mutable blood. This comes with a cost, but he is capable of shaping and superheating his blood into the equivalent of boiling oil or hot tar. Although he has only spilled small amounts of his blood in the past - he suspects that his powers would be more impressive with the more blood he sacrifices. The risk is not greater than the reward - and Aatu spills his own blood only rarely in combat.
Unwanted Child: By cutting into his own flesh, and spilling his own blood Aatu can channel small amounts of controlled, mutable blood. This comes with a cost, but he is capable of shaping and superheating his blood into the equivalent of boiling oil or hot tar. Although he has only spilled small amounts of his blood in the past - he suspects that his powers would be more impressive with the more blood he sacrifices. The risk is not greater than the reward - and Aatu spills his own blood only rarely in combat.
Boon: Aatu is politically minded, and capable of keeping his emotions hidden and bottled up. He is literate, diplomatic, and mindful of world affairs and history. His training as a knight gives him some comfort with a sword and heavy armor - helping protect him from those who would do him harm. His family's wealth gives him some access to additional resources. He is a good sailor, and decent on a horse.
Bane: If Aatu lets himself become out of control, he is out of control. When his temper is raised, and the mask slips aside, he falls into fits of depression and self-destructive tendencies. He has limited capability with his own powers, and has received no training in how to apply them. The very nature of his powers requires great personal risk - he must either be in melee range and at risk of attack, or actively harm himself to do harm to others. He is not particularly self confident, but has a strong martyr streak which are often at odds.
☾☾☾ Personality ☽☽☽
Outwardly, Aatu is gentle, and soft spoken. Although the knit in his brow gives the impression of thoughtfulness, it is clear that the man is terrified of public speaking. However in small groups he manages to be flattering and some find his shy and courteous nature charming. He is deeply religious to a household God that he does not speak of often. Aatu's loyalty to his God, does not supercede his loyalty to the crown, and towards the Argents as a whole. He respects his elders and the higher nobles with dog-like approval, and he attempts to keep his words and gestures largely submissive. Given his family's relatively low position, his behaviour is generally regarded to be entirely in keeping with his station. For that, Aatu's disposition is seen to be admirable in a lesser noble. He is considered to be a harmless worm in a sea of vipers - and that is an illusion that Aatu cultivates.
Aatu is far more clever and calculating than is obvious. He believes that it is only through his will and personal strength that he will be able to elevate his family. Following the recent war, his belief has spread to a notion that without his guidance, Binnes will collapse. Whether or not this is true remains to be seen - but it is true in his heart, and thus, the protection of Binnes at whatever cost is his primary motivator. Nonetheless, his deep ambitions and self identification as a saviour run a contradictory path to his unwillingness to compromise his moral principles in order to do it. He has found himself in a stalemate versus the nobles - where he's trying to appear as unassuming and basely efficient as possible in order to avoid too much attention - and a strong desire to protect himself and his family's name from the chaotic world. The facade, coupled with the aggressive ambitions of his true agenda has wreaked havoc on his internal and emotional side. However, Aatu swallows his feelings, and presses forward - ever forward.
☾☾☾ Biography ☽☽☽
Long before Aatu Eidunar was born, the Eidunar family was established. One of the oldest and most stable families in the Binnes, their nobility was earned through great deeds. Their family's founder was a woman by the name of Eid, and she was renowned for her beauty, intelligence, and skill as a warrior. Her abilities as a tactician and battle strategist earned her the name Eid the Deepminded, a testament to her wisdom - and all descended from her have been held to her standard. All have been found lacking. One of the first kings of Abbelest, and Eid the Deepminded's ally, granted her a strait and surrounding lands as a reward for her service as a warrior. Th The Eidnasævar strait has remained in the family line as their other lands were swallowed up by the city. It is one of their last holdings, but the strait will never be forsaken by any member of the Eidunar family. The strait is the source of the family's continued nobility, as it is one of the most profitable canals in the Binnes province. The Eidunar family thus has long enjoyed commercial control of many incoming imports and exports.
Over twenty years ago, long before the XII Final War, the Eidunar family was in a new age of prosperity. The family patriarch, Lord Regin Eidunar was a close of the old King; and it was said throughout Binnes that he was the Kingmaker - the one who controlled who was fed and who wasn't, and strategized the funds and movements of the Royal treasury, supplementing the wealth of his own families with the tax profits. Regin's wife, Lady Ádís Grettisdóttir, was a powerful woman herself, she had had entrenched herself with the noble ladies of both the royal court and Binnes' own noble circles. She was considered to be a close confidant of the important women that had married even more important men. However, there were always rumours about Ádís and many of the rumours concerned her strange religion; a pagan system of beliefs that relied upon gods, monsters, giants, and dragons. Of course, all of this was a fantasy. Nonetheless, she believed, and she believed strongly.
Ádís believed the old legend. She told it well, and this is merely a poor reproduction of the story. She believed that that the Grettis family, her ancestors, were descended from a single giant, named Grettis the Pale. Surely, he was not a giant at all, merely an immense man - but the legend was what she believed. It was said that Grettis had split the rocks of the mountains, and he had built the Grettis forges - from where her own wealth came from. This pale giant forged beautiful arms and armor, and could turn blood and bone into jewels and gold. He was so mighty and accomplished that he forged a woman out of his blood and his finger bones. This golem, with ruby hair and diamond skin was the first Ádís in the Grettis line. Because of their shared name, Lady Ádís Grettisdóttir saw herself as the family founder come again, looking for her Grettis to wed. But she, as was tradition, had been married off to the already powerful, and already wealthy Regin Eidunar, despite her knowledge that he was not who she was meant to wed. Regin, despite his own legendary past, was simply not Grettis.
Ádís' Grettis was a different man entirely; her brother - Skýla. Skýla had proven himself to be a capable warrior, responsible for driving out bandits and barbarians from their mountainous homelands ; and she loved him dearly. When she was wed to Regin, she begged her new husband to find employment for Skýla so that she could keep him close. Regin, wanting to make his wife happy, caved to her demand. He was made a House Carl of House Eidunar. Because of this, Ádís had no proper children with Regin. Every time she was made to lay with her husband, the next morning she choked down a tea brewed from the black roots of the Carrionflower to trigger a miscarriage. She would conceal this from her husband. Nonetheless, Ádís had eleven children, all with her brother, Skýla. Regin was gone so often, that he did not catch them. She believed that one of these children would be as strong as Grettis was, and represent a return to the Old Faith. However, she found fault with all of the children. The first one was asthmatic, the second one was colic, the third soft in the head - the fourth mute, the fifth deaf, the sixth blind. The following five all suffered from some sort of epilepsy, and each had disfigured faces. When each of her children turned six, she determined whether or not they were strong enough, like her ancestor. Each of them failed her scrutiny. She asked Skýla to take them back to the Grettis hold and kill them. He did so. Ádís told her husband that the children were sent away to various distant nobles in order to be fostered in their houses, so that they might have connections with distant lands. Regin believed her - but there was gossip. There was always gossip And the gossip got louder and louder.
The fateful moment came when after one long journey, where Regin was away and Ádís lay with her brother, as was her fancy. But Regin returned unexpectedly early from one of his voyages, and wanted to lay with her as well. It was a futile effort. A desire to clutch at the remnants of his marriage. Ádís could not bring herself to drink the tea - what if this child was the one? Even if it had been tainted by Regin's seed. The rumours did not stop. In fact, they increased as her belly became more and more swollen. When Regin passed the fishmongers in the streets, his wife's name was on their lips. They said she was an unholy whore, who spoke to dark spirits. Washerwomen whispered that she was birthing demons into the world. Why else would she be so often pregnant - but the Eidunar home should never hear children's laughter? Regin told her that he was leaving - that he would go to the distant Abbelest and would not be back for weeks. But instead he went to find a Rewriter who could help him. He found his salvation in a Rewriter of Wood - Kriemhilde. The blind old Rewriter was immensely powerful, and exceedingly expensive. But Regin had to know what his wife did, when he was gone. Kriemhilde came with him to the family estate, and pressed her claws into the walls. She could hear the groans of Regin's wife - and her brother. She told Regin as much - and there was nothing that could restrain him. Regin grabbed the two of them - his rage imbuing him with strength - and flung them to street. They crawled away, bloody and battered. And for a while, all was well.
Six years after Ádís was flung from his door, and some years before the XII Final War began, Regin abandoned his political career. The clouds of war seemed to be on the horizon. Perhaps he knew before anyone that war would break out - or perhaps his wife's betrayal had cut him too deeply. His peace was interrupted nonetheless. A child arrived on his door. The child was a boy, and the child looked exactly like Regin - the same Binnes brown hair and light tan skin. He did not seem capable of much speech, and simply offered a note with only a single sentence. "This one is yours." It was not signed, but Regin knew. the child on the doorstep was his son by Ádís - his only son. He named the child Aatu, and loved the child as much as he was able to. He hired tutors to teach him speech and basic etiquette - all of which the boy had been lacking. He tried to provide for his child. But, the circumstances that the child had been conceived in continued to bite at him. Aatu's father did not blame him. But he nonetheless never forgave him for the misfortunes that accompanied his birth. Despite everything - Aatu was his only child, and Regin had the expectation that his only son would one day occupy the same role that his father had held, and the father before him, all the way back to Eid the Deepminded. Regin had great expectations from a child that he never touched, never embraced, and always treated like a stranger. And Aatu, for his part - wanted nothing more than to be the son that his father dreamed of.
But coldness breeds contempt. Aatu was trained in the martial arts by his father, and a retinue of tutors. When his father and he were alone, there was little love lost between them. Aatu tried to please him, but the boy simply wasn't as quick as he should be, or as strong. Aatu was constantly paying off of the debt he owed his father for simply existing. He wondered why his father wasn't happy that he existed - but the rumours followed him. He was a witch's son - a rewriter's brood gone terribly wrong. And those rumors were why Regin would never accept anything but physical and mental perfection from Aatu. For this, Aatu began to resent his father for what had been done to him, for the constant emotional abuse and indifference, for the way that he was never seen in the way that he was never really loved. He was fourteen when he spoke up against him, throwing down his practice sword and saying that he never wished to be an Eidunar. That he would run away. Regin grabbed him by the throat, and held him tight, until he began to choke and die. He did not kill his son, but he told Aatu what would happen if he did not do as he wished. if he could not carry on the legacy of Eidunar, he served no purpose, and would simply be killed.
Aatu's mind turned dark. By the time that the XII Final War was in full swing, he became fascinated with the war - he wanted to prove to his father that he was a capable and competent solider. But the fact of the matter was - he wasn't. He was a skilled swordsman, and understood horsemanship, but that was not the same as being a good solider. He didn't have the stomach for it - he was too sensitive, too fragile, and too afraid. He was not the man his father wanted him to be, despite everything. So, he plunged himself into his mother's world, trying to find something in it that had a place for him. He began to investigate his mother's beliefs, and developed an interest in all of the dark and unexplained things in the world. Magic fascinated him, called to him in every rumour that he was the child of the devil-woman. Magic, from the line of Grettis, was in his blood - be he did not know how to unleash it. Aatu dared not tell his father of his pursuit of magic; knowing that his father didn't want any traces of his mother to show their face.
Two years before the XII Final War ended, Regin fell ill. Old age and heavy drinking poisoned his blood, or so the apothecary said. They leeched him, they called for the Rewriter to heal his flesh - but Regin's body was determined to die. Aatu loved his father, and that is the sad truth of the matter. Despite everything, he loved him. When Regin's bedsores leaked blood and pus, it was Aatu who cleaned the wounds. And it is in that wound cleaning that something stirred within in him. He found himself able see through the blood, able to feel it bubbling inside his head, while all the while it was under his fingertips. He pressed his fingers deeper into his father's cysts, as he lay delirious with fever. He could feel his father's heart, as the blood gurgled beneath his touch. Regin's eyes opened a crack, and he issued his final command to Aatu. "Get out." Aatu, afraid that his father felt what he had done - yanked away, and closed his hand. His father's blood was smeared on his fingertips, and as if it had a life of its own, crawled across his fingers. He found himself clasping at the snakes of blood, grabbing at something that his father could not see - as if he was a man possessed.
His fingers closed around the blood. He yanked them away from him - as if they were leeches. He smashed them on the ground. Aatu found himself breaking down, begging the vision to leave him, begging them to die. They went away - and his father laughed at him. In a hardly lucid state, Regin croaked; "You're just like your mother." Aatu turned to his father, and he could hear the failing of his father's heart in his ears, almost deafening him. He took his father's head in his hands, and pressed his thumbs into Regin's eyesockets. He pushed down hard, and felt his being course through his father, turning his veins hollow and empty - withering flesh, emptying guts. It was like he was in a trance. But it was a trance that ended in his father's death.
The apothecary and his servants found Aatu slumped over his father, cradling his head in his hands. They assumed he was in mourning, clutching to his dead father. Aatu was different from then on. He conducted the funeral with absolute cold efficiency, and began to arrange his marriage to a wealthy, Binnes noblewoman. Everything was orderly, under Aatu. Everything was quiet. But in secret, a Rewriter's needle had been sewn into his palm. His ambitions were quiet - and the gossip eventually trickled away. A month before his marriage; he joined the Argents, leaving the running of the household to his wife to be, a certain Cynthia von Ulbrecht. He knew she could be trusted - and he knew that she would look over the mercantile affairs of the Eidunar as if they were her own - afterall, it would be her own soon. He promised to make himself into a worthy husband for her, by the time he returned. All believe that he is joining the Argents in order to make himself worthy of his wife - to earn fame for both his name and his person.
And that's true. But there's always something else. A needle in the palm, a memory of a mother, and a belief in heroes.
Over twenty years ago, long before the XII Final War, the Eidunar family was in a new age of prosperity. The family patriarch, Lord Regin Eidunar was a close of the old King; and it was said throughout Binnes that he was the Kingmaker - the one who controlled who was fed and who wasn't, and strategized the funds and movements of the Royal treasury, supplementing the wealth of his own families with the tax profits. Regin's wife, Lady Ádís Grettisdóttir, was a powerful woman herself, she had had entrenched herself with the noble ladies of both the royal court and Binnes' own noble circles. She was considered to be a close confidant of the important women that had married even more important men. However, there were always rumours about Ádís and many of the rumours concerned her strange religion; a pagan system of beliefs that relied upon gods, monsters, giants, and dragons. Of course, all of this was a fantasy. Nonetheless, she believed, and she believed strongly.
Ádís believed the old legend. She told it well, and this is merely a poor reproduction of the story. She believed that that the Grettis family, her ancestors, were descended from a single giant, named Grettis the Pale. Surely, he was not a giant at all, merely an immense man - but the legend was what she believed. It was said that Grettis had split the rocks of the mountains, and he had built the Grettis forges - from where her own wealth came from. This pale giant forged beautiful arms and armor, and could turn blood and bone into jewels and gold. He was so mighty and accomplished that he forged a woman out of his blood and his finger bones. This golem, with ruby hair and diamond skin was the first Ádís in the Grettis line. Because of their shared name, Lady Ádís Grettisdóttir saw herself as the family founder come again, looking for her Grettis to wed. But she, as was tradition, had been married off to the already powerful, and already wealthy Regin Eidunar, despite her knowledge that he was not who she was meant to wed. Regin, despite his own legendary past, was simply not Grettis.
Ádís' Grettis was a different man entirely; her brother - Skýla. Skýla had proven himself to be a capable warrior, responsible for driving out bandits and barbarians from their mountainous homelands ; and she loved him dearly. When she was wed to Regin, she begged her new husband to find employment for Skýla so that she could keep him close. Regin, wanting to make his wife happy, caved to her demand. He was made a House Carl of House Eidunar. Because of this, Ádís had no proper children with Regin. Every time she was made to lay with her husband, the next morning she choked down a tea brewed from the black roots of the Carrionflower to trigger a miscarriage. She would conceal this from her husband. Nonetheless, Ádís had eleven children, all with her brother, Skýla. Regin was gone so often, that he did not catch them. She believed that one of these children would be as strong as Grettis was, and represent a return to the Old Faith. However, she found fault with all of the children. The first one was asthmatic, the second one was colic, the third soft in the head - the fourth mute, the fifth deaf, the sixth blind. The following five all suffered from some sort of epilepsy, and each had disfigured faces. When each of her children turned six, she determined whether or not they were strong enough, like her ancestor. Each of them failed her scrutiny. She asked Skýla to take them back to the Grettis hold and kill them. He did so. Ádís told her husband that the children were sent away to various distant nobles in order to be fostered in their houses, so that they might have connections with distant lands. Regin believed her - but there was gossip. There was always gossip And the gossip got louder and louder.
The fateful moment came when after one long journey, where Regin was away and Ádís lay with her brother, as was her fancy. But Regin returned unexpectedly early from one of his voyages, and wanted to lay with her as well. It was a futile effort. A desire to clutch at the remnants of his marriage. Ádís could not bring herself to drink the tea - what if this child was the one? Even if it had been tainted by Regin's seed. The rumours did not stop. In fact, they increased as her belly became more and more swollen. When Regin passed the fishmongers in the streets, his wife's name was on their lips. They said she was an unholy whore, who spoke to dark spirits. Washerwomen whispered that she was birthing demons into the world. Why else would she be so often pregnant - but the Eidunar home should never hear children's laughter? Regin told her that he was leaving - that he would go to the distant Abbelest and would not be back for weeks. But instead he went to find a Rewriter who could help him. He found his salvation in a Rewriter of Wood - Kriemhilde. The blind old Rewriter was immensely powerful, and exceedingly expensive. But Regin had to know what his wife did, when he was gone. Kriemhilde came with him to the family estate, and pressed her claws into the walls. She could hear the groans of Regin's wife - and her brother. She told Regin as much - and there was nothing that could restrain him. Regin grabbed the two of them - his rage imbuing him with strength - and flung them to street. They crawled away, bloody and battered. And for a while, all was well.
Six years after Ádís was flung from his door, and some years before the XII Final War began, Regin abandoned his political career. The clouds of war seemed to be on the horizon. Perhaps he knew before anyone that war would break out - or perhaps his wife's betrayal had cut him too deeply. His peace was interrupted nonetheless. A child arrived on his door. The child was a boy, and the child looked exactly like Regin - the same Binnes brown hair and light tan skin. He did not seem capable of much speech, and simply offered a note with only a single sentence. "This one is yours." It was not signed, but Regin knew. the child on the doorstep was his son by Ádís - his only son. He named the child Aatu, and loved the child as much as he was able to. He hired tutors to teach him speech and basic etiquette - all of which the boy had been lacking. He tried to provide for his child. But, the circumstances that the child had been conceived in continued to bite at him. Aatu's father did not blame him. But he nonetheless never forgave him for the misfortunes that accompanied his birth. Despite everything - Aatu was his only child, and Regin had the expectation that his only son would one day occupy the same role that his father had held, and the father before him, all the way back to Eid the Deepminded. Regin had great expectations from a child that he never touched, never embraced, and always treated like a stranger. And Aatu, for his part - wanted nothing more than to be the son that his father dreamed of.
But coldness breeds contempt. Aatu was trained in the martial arts by his father, and a retinue of tutors. When his father and he were alone, there was little love lost between them. Aatu tried to please him, but the boy simply wasn't as quick as he should be, or as strong. Aatu was constantly paying off of the debt he owed his father for simply existing. He wondered why his father wasn't happy that he existed - but the rumours followed him. He was a witch's son - a rewriter's brood gone terribly wrong. And those rumors were why Regin would never accept anything but physical and mental perfection from Aatu. For this, Aatu began to resent his father for what had been done to him, for the constant emotional abuse and indifference, for the way that he was never seen in the way that he was never really loved. He was fourteen when he spoke up against him, throwing down his practice sword and saying that he never wished to be an Eidunar. That he would run away. Regin grabbed him by the throat, and held him tight, until he began to choke and die. He did not kill his son, but he told Aatu what would happen if he did not do as he wished. if he could not carry on the legacy of Eidunar, he served no purpose, and would simply be killed.
Aatu's mind turned dark. By the time that the XII Final War was in full swing, he became fascinated with the war - he wanted to prove to his father that he was a capable and competent solider. But the fact of the matter was - he wasn't. He was a skilled swordsman, and understood horsemanship, but that was not the same as being a good solider. He didn't have the stomach for it - he was too sensitive, too fragile, and too afraid. He was not the man his father wanted him to be, despite everything. So, he plunged himself into his mother's world, trying to find something in it that had a place for him. He began to investigate his mother's beliefs, and developed an interest in all of the dark and unexplained things in the world. Magic fascinated him, called to him in every rumour that he was the child of the devil-woman. Magic, from the line of Grettis, was in his blood - be he did not know how to unleash it. Aatu dared not tell his father of his pursuit of magic; knowing that his father didn't want any traces of his mother to show their face.
Two years before the XII Final War ended, Regin fell ill. Old age and heavy drinking poisoned his blood, or so the apothecary said. They leeched him, they called for the Rewriter to heal his flesh - but Regin's body was determined to die. Aatu loved his father, and that is the sad truth of the matter. Despite everything, he loved him. When Regin's bedsores leaked blood and pus, it was Aatu who cleaned the wounds. And it is in that wound cleaning that something stirred within in him. He found himself able see through the blood, able to feel it bubbling inside his head, while all the while it was under his fingertips. He pressed his fingers deeper into his father's cysts, as he lay delirious with fever. He could feel his father's heart, as the blood gurgled beneath his touch. Regin's eyes opened a crack, and he issued his final command to Aatu. "Get out." Aatu, afraid that his father felt what he had done - yanked away, and closed his hand. His father's blood was smeared on his fingertips, and as if it had a life of its own, crawled across his fingers. He found himself clasping at the snakes of blood, grabbing at something that his father could not see - as if he was a man possessed.
His fingers closed around the blood. He yanked them away from him - as if they were leeches. He smashed them on the ground. Aatu found himself breaking down, begging the vision to leave him, begging them to die. They went away - and his father laughed at him. In a hardly lucid state, Regin croaked; "You're just like your mother." Aatu turned to his father, and he could hear the failing of his father's heart in his ears, almost deafening him. He took his father's head in his hands, and pressed his thumbs into Regin's eyesockets. He pushed down hard, and felt his being course through his father, turning his veins hollow and empty - withering flesh, emptying guts. It was like he was in a trance. But it was a trance that ended in his father's death.
The apothecary and his servants found Aatu slumped over his father, cradling his head in his hands. They assumed he was in mourning, clutching to his dead father. Aatu was different from then on. He conducted the funeral with absolute cold efficiency, and began to arrange his marriage to a wealthy, Binnes noblewoman. Everything was orderly, under Aatu. Everything was quiet. But in secret, a Rewriter's needle had been sewn into his palm. His ambitions were quiet - and the gossip eventually trickled away. A month before his marriage; he joined the Argents, leaving the running of the household to his wife to be, a certain Cynthia von Ulbrecht. He knew she could be trusted - and he knew that she would look over the mercantile affairs of the Eidunar as if they were her own - afterall, it would be her own soon. He promised to make himself into a worthy husband for her, by the time he returned. All believe that he is joining the Argents in order to make himself worthy of his wife - to earn fame for both his name and his person.
And that's true. But there's always something else. A needle in the palm, a memory of a mother, and a belief in heroes.
