'Through death I live eternal'
|Race||Elven-Nerubian Hybrid (Necrotically)|
|Location||A crypt in an uncharted area of the Western Plaguelands|
In his early teens he was a young mischevious Mage. Causing trouble and chaos was his forté and growing up with no parents saverely hindered the chance of him ever being taught these things were wrong, once he descovered this for himself however, the chaos increased. His friend, Quincy Lyon, a man being the closest to a family member the young boy had ever gotten was the main reason the boy maintained the will to become a skilled Mage, as Seraphiel was not one to lose out. Apon meeting several friends along the way and getting into more trouble with the likes of Lyssah, Shalya, Carsaib, Sunfall, Randall and many others this kept the boy on the right track, until he met a man. Njosnavelin Ros'vorontir.
Njos was a man whom Sera had seen around town and various other places, always standing in skin tight cloths, daggers at his side, and a mask covering his face, a man of mystery and wonder and with the added bonus of clothing that left nothing to the imagination, sparked off a interest in this masked man. After chasing after, playing games and becoming friends with the man, a relationship sprouted. Known to have been working together at some points with the Flying Daggers, often seen together and very much in love with each other. Eventually Seraphiel asked for Njos' hand in marrage.
A promise that he has always held close to his heart, through the torture, through the pain, through the suffering the young adult had to face, is still held close to this day. The promise etched on the wedding ring that still has its place around his cold, dead fingers is that they would be together forever, eternal. Which is what lead him to not only the suicide and ressurection through Scouge Magic, but the murder and Necromatic Ressurection of his husband.
After going through long, painful and disgustingly uneccicary surgery reveals the Seraphiel that stands before you today, with various strange twitching, the heavy hissing produced whenever he speaks anything but Nerubian, the dribbling down his lips of strange, sickly green coloured saliva and the strange emerging of insects produced from varying openings of Seraphiel's body.
An often passive person, recordings on exacally how to beat this strange hybrid are currently unknown, though more oftern than not if confronted with violence, immobilization of the enemy and retreat on Seraphiel's part is usually the action to follow.
- to come*
- to come*
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