cTheAngelofMusic
+||+---------BASIC INFORMATION---------+||+
Name:
Crìsdean Gòrdan
Age:
751
Gender:
male
Race:
Vampyre Caledonii: Elder Vampire/ Fae touched
+||+-----------PERSONAL APPEARANCE--------------+||+
Apearrance:
Hair:
Raven Black
Eyes:
Gray, but tend to flash Silver when angered.
Height:
6'/182.88cm
Weight:
150ibs/68kg
+||+----------------CHARACTER INFORMATION--------------------+||+
Skills:
"I have been many things in my life time."
*Healer
*Warrior
*Tactician
*Storyteller
*musician
*herbalist
Abilities:
*Vampiric Powers
*Druidic Magick
*Shapeshifter
*Master of Stealth & Illusions
Weaknesses:
*Daywalker: Can enter sunlight, if it's cloudy and overcast. but high UV light will harm. Steeping out into high summer days will burn. Crìsdean Gòrdan often sticks to indirect light, or shadows if outside without his cloak.
*Staking: causes paralysis
*Silver: immune; worked hard to develop this immunity. Over many years. Ingested(etc) silver will act as a minor poison. This can become debilitating if Crisdean does not tend to this. Crisdean can wield and touch silver without harm.
*Holy/blessed items(etc): No harm. As Crìsdean Gòrdan has not consumed the flesh and blood of mortals, nor has he killed an innocent. Crìsdean Gòrdan gains sustenance the way of the ancient Celtic fae beings of his clan.
He feeds on the emotions and fears of individuals and has but to touch them to draw these forth.
*The Waters of Annwyn: this poison was a concoction of the fae world. To bring release to those who could not carry the burden of this blessing of the fae. this poison will strip the individual of the blessing and return their soul to the Tuatha Dé Danann. This potion was usually only used during the rites when the apprentice was ready to take over for the master. Once thought to be a great secret Crisdean learned it was the poison upon the stake that murdered his master before his time.
The only true way to kill Crìsdean is to cut off his head and dismember him. Then burn everything and cast the ashes in running waters.
+||+---------------------------CHARACTER LOADOUT-----------------------------------+||+
Weapons:
A Sword made from Silver and Starmetal.
A Staff of Rowan wood.
Magick
Tooth & Claw, Beak & Talon.
His Knowledge in hand to hand combat
Armor:
Sylvan Cloak; made by the hands of the daoine sìth(aes sídhe). Besides the cloak's ability to protect its wearer. Crìsdean Gòrdan prefers to forgo the "clunky", and "bulky" armors. He uses his magick to produce wards, barriers, and shielding if needed. but often relies on his stealth and shadows to remain unseen.
Equipment:
*A Ancient pouch; an heirloom of his murdered master and mentor.
this item usually holds items of personal meaning to Crisdean.
*Druid's Pouch
*Assorted Potions, elixirs, tinctures, antidotes
*Healers Pouch
Miscellaneous:
* Animal companions; Crisdean has the ability to befriend an animal. This animal becomes a companion and is blessed with long life and higher intellect.
*Magick resistance: due to his magick blood, Crisdean possesses a greater ability to fend off magick attacks or charms(sleep spell, etc).
+||+---------------------------PERSONALITY-----------------------------------+||+
INFJ, Dark, Mysterious, Contemplative, quiet, Serious but knows when to have fun.
Slow to anger, but a great storm when provoked.
loves nature, animal lover, loves music
Likes a quiet night, a good book, and a tall teacup.
+||+---------------------------BACKGROUND-----------------------------------+||+
As written by the hand of Crìsdean son of Donnchadh; of the house of Gordon(Na Gòrdanaich).
"I was born in June upon the 13th day in the year of our Lord 1270AD.
If my master; MacDubh is correct in his reconning it was Dihaoine(Friday).
But who am I? I am but an orphan of the world like many others. My parents were slain by an evil Ænglish Noble, For what crime you may ask...For their love of their land,....and a free Alba. For their resistance against the invading Ænglish, their blood was spilled upon the land. During this time I was but a wee bairn(baby), after their death I was smuggled away deep into the ancient woodlands of my homeland. Given to a friend of my family...MacDubh.
I can still remember the vale; a hidden place in the highlands and mountains. The great Oak that was MacDubh's and my home. so large I swear it would last forever. This ancient collage of Druid was long gone save for my master.
He was the last of his order, and I soon became his apprentice.
I grew up and learned at the feet of this man. Learned the ancient ways of my ancestors. Of Sky, Water, and earth...nature, and of the Sidhe.
MacDubh thought me to use my powers and how to help others with them. He taught me the secrets of the trees and flowers, of herb and stone. Of music and the blessed night sky. A sky I would often wonder with my eye and dream of great things.
I had grown to love my home even if I knew not my beginning. The war that my country was in or even the war that lingered in the shadows and has spanned the world and all time. It was the evening of my 18year. I was walking under the great branches of the oaks enjoying the evening's cool touch and the voices in the trees. I was lost in my wonderings, full of the vitality of life...
My focus was brought to bear by the voice of my master shouting into my mind. The force of the emotions and voice stunned me for I had never heard..or felt such fear in my teacher.
The night was split by a scream and the sound of battle. The wind in the trees rose up and their branches scratched my cheek as I ran through the shadow-filled glade. I ran...ran to see what was the matter, why had my teacher; he who I loved as a father. As I ran into the clearing I saw in the darkness my teacher fighting with another man. I sat stunned who was this man, and why had he violated the sacred space with violence. This was a place of learning and healing. I watched stunned by the vision of battle set before me a thing I had been sheltered from but now it had leaked its way into my home and life.
I sought to help my teacher, but before I could run to the ad of my teacher I watched as the man that had attacked him took wood, and pierced the flesh of my teacher, My teacher fell to the ground and the man ran off into the darkness.
I ran to my master who lay like the dead. the piece of wood still in his flesh. I went to him and took from out of his chest the stake. I wanted to tend the wounds. heal him but such was my mind, enthralled by panic and sadness I could barely think. His ears opened those stern yet kind eyes found me. MacDubh with his shaking hand took my face in his palm and spoke. "I will not weather this storm, my child...the wood may not have killed me but it had some strong poison on it and it takes my vitality...listen, my son..take my ashes and scatter them under the Oak..."
He told me in his dying words about my family and who murdered them. That I should look under his bed and read the scroll and take the weapon I find there. Then said "Keep the secrets of our people safe, continue the line, ...for..forgive me for this...." his voice was losing strength and I had bint low to her his struggled words as the poison did its deadly work. As he spoke these words I felt the dying breath of my teacher upon my neck then piercing, burning in my neck... I soon fell into the darkness of time, and space as I spun on whatever plane of existence my spirit found.
I awoke, i do know how long later; but with a hatred and a thirst for revenge.
But I first had to understand what had happened to me and give my teacher, ...father..his death rites. I set fire upon his flesh and with sacred herbs did cremate him and return his ashes to the earth under the sacred Oak.
I entered his living space and looked under his bed and found a stone chest. Inside were strings of leaves, preserved by an ancient magick, the leaves told in the language of the trees(ogham), as spoken by Datho, Ollamh of Cnoc an Dair. that this place had once been a great collage of Druids. It's nemeton a sacred place. In place before the Roman invaders had come. But that over time, and with the many invasions and time. lore and secrets were being lost. the old ways were being forgotten. To prevent the loss of our great secrets and lore. The Ollamh had entered the land of fae and begged of them a boon to protect that which was being lost. The fae granted him the boon in that he would be undying to the ravages of time. but also bear the curse of the blood. As such the line was then saved and ...lost all at the same time. from master to apprentice this fae boon has passed down the line and now it's my burden to hold. I am sure MacDubh had meant to teach me much more and explain to me the rites and history of this blessing/curse but it seems the war in the shadow ..or fate... the gods who know has put its touch upon me and now I have this...blessing of the fae.
-long story short-
I learned the power of blood lust, and with great effort did my best not to make those who fell under my hands suffer for the blood I took. I dared not harm those children but the power in their blood spoke. Eventually, over a few years, I had learned from my master's books that it wasn't the blood I needed but the emotions, fears, and even dreams. from then on I have never once consumed the flesh or blood of mortal man.
My parent's murder and the death of my master were avenged.
*I joined with the knight of Elderslie and helped in the efforts to free my country. Saw his death on August 23, 1305...
*fought under "the bruce", and fought at Bannockburn.
*wondered here and there, helping the innocent and healing those I could.
-many years pass-
*fought again for my land in the 45'(1745) (Bliadhna Theàrlaich)
I was there shivering in the cold on 16th of April 1746...
Battle of Culloden(Blàr Chùil Lodair)....as I watched 2000 mother's sons charger headlong into roaring cannon...
I could continue on...and say my everywhere about form then on through the many rebellions and wars of this world. the Americans rebellion, to the great war, and its sequel....
needless to say, I was there, in one form or another. weather standing on the beach of France with the pipes in my arms as machine gunfire rained down and the red blood of many a lad spilled upon the beach. or simply a small-town librarian.
Coming to Vampire Island:
Crisdean came upon the island on his travels and decided to stay; for as long as he felt welcomed, or until he felt the winds blow him in a new direction.
He came upon Sebastet's Castle and was permitted to stay within its walls. one day As he was walking the halls he found the door that led into the destroyed garden, and the Lady Sebaset crying over it. Seeing her lost, and her love of it he offered to repair the damaged ground. She accepted his offer, and he has spent many long hours repairing it with his magick and skill.
-The demon wars/ and war with Goh-
Crisdean in his position to rally help during this time left vampire island with the two children and their strange cat. Much to the sadness of Windsong, Aten, and Cullen both. even if it was to protect them from Goh's powers and minions.
Crisdean has returned to vampire island after many adventures and years.
