Cyrus Morlock

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Cyrus Morlock

Post by DeadMan on Fri Jan 08, 2016 12:45 am

At First Glance: If Cyrus were to enter a lively tavern on an active night, the patrons would notice the extra shadow in the room before the man himself. You can feel a sphere of gloom around him that is not inherently malicious, but gets colder and thicker as you become more aware of his presence.

His clothing is mostly of Altmer and Breton in origin, his worn black robes falling off of his body like an old carpet hanging to be dusted. His hair strewn across his chest and shoulders like the leaves of an aging willow tree. Bands, trinkets, amulets and rings of all shapes, colors and gem types tied around his wrists, fingers and neck as if it was tribal jewelry, with an especially large emerald amulet around his neck. Bags of alchemy ingredients hang from his belt across his entire waist, giving him a light earthly incense scent.

Physical Description:
5'11", Hazel eye color. Slightly tan skin, long dark brown hair, taller, leaner and with somewhat sharper features than the average Breton. Cyrus hails from bloodlines that mingled far more with ancient elves than other common Breton lineages.

Political Affiliations: Magister of the Daggerfall Covenant, Ranked Warlock of the Mages Guild, Associate of the Psijic Order and the Summerset Shadows.

Early Background: Born into a family of conflicting Magi in Wayrest, young Cyrus was immediately labeled a black sheep because of his interest in the darker aspects of magick. Four generations ago the Morlocks were renowned for their formidable command of Destruction magick, Hired as enforcers for the shadier Lords of the realm, the Morlocks gained a reputation as the harbingers of chaos and disorder.

After a daring and meticulous plot to eliminate the entire bloodline by a rival Lord, the younger and less experienced of the family decided to go into hiding, only recently being accepted back into society under heavy restrictions. Since then many family members resorted to studying their fields in secret, except Cyrus's parents, who have done little more than enchanting and basic alteration spells. Over the years Cyrus slowly discovered the family members who could teach him what he wanted to know, using blackmail and bribery in some cases to guarantee his tutors would follow through.

Around his young adulthood, his father stumbled upon a trinket that opened a portal to Cyrus's personal pocket of oblivion. Disgusted with the untold sights and abominations he witnessed, he left the portal and confronted Cyrus as he returned from the library. Enraged with his personal belongings being disturbed, Cyrus raised his hands and telepathically threw his father through a door. His father quickly regained composure and hurled the biggest fireball Cyrus has ever seen in his direction. Cyrus threw up his arms and summoned a barrier that caused the flames to spread throughout the rest of the building.

As their house begun to engulf in his father’s flames, Cyrus quickly grabbed his portal trinket, staff and book bag and jumped out the window and proceeded to run as fast as he could to his uncle’s cave. "So even they have been lying to themselves, uncle." He panted, as he arrived at his uncle’s ritual site. His uncle approached the doorway and put his hand on Cyrus's shoulder. "Yes, it seems so. But at least now you seem to be free of their grasp. I doubt they'll let you go back even if you asked." Cyrus made his way to an old elven throne in the corner of the room and sat down, exhausted. "Is there anyone else that can help me?" "Yes, indeed there is, my nephew." His uncle replies in an eager tone. "Allow me to introduce you to the King of Worms."


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