Mother: Magda (Mob)
Current Description: September 1999
A tall, slender half-elven form stands before you.. It is unexpectedly difficult to make out details; shadows seem to cling to him oddly where there should be light. After a moment, his attention shifts to you. He murmurs something softly and the shadows fall away. His form is that of a young man in his prime, but his night-dark eyes are far older, and assess you calmly. He bows courteously, with a slight smile, and you catch a glimpse of the fangs that explain how one who has seen so much can appear so young. Khore must have taken this one early. A slight radiance shimmers on his skin, as if the blood in his veins were strangely radiant. It takes a moment, but comprehension follows; the sinuous traceries mark him as one Destined within the Pattern. But there is more: on his hands, the glow is brighter, glimmering silver-tinted, and seems to be moving...some sort of tattoo, you think...He glances beyond you for an instant, and mutters another word. The Darkness slithers over him again. You have seen enough.
Deamhan is a slightly scruffy-looking half-elf...though you might well ask what the other half is...his teeth seem to be a bit more, umm, pointed than is the norm among half-elves. His eyes, too, are a bit unusual, being a deep red, slightly glowing color. On the whole, he seems a rather nice, harmless young half-elf, though his habit of muttering, "Blood! Blood!" from time to time can be a bit disconcerting.
Wedding Description: 3/20/99
A tall, slender half-elven form stands before you. It is unexpectedly difficult to make out details; shadows seem to cling to him oddly where there should be light. After a moment, his attention shifts to you. He murmurs something softly and the shadows fall away. His form is that of a young man in his prime, but his night-dark eyes are far older, and assess you calmly. He bows courteously, with a slight smile, and you catch a glimpse of the fangs that explain how one who has seen so much can appear so young. Khore must have taken this one early. A slight radiance shimmers on his skin, as if the blood in his veins were strangely radiant. It takes a moment, but comprehension follows; the sinuous traceries mark him as one Destined within the Pattern. He glances beyond you for an instant, and mutters another word. The Darkness slithers over him again. Apparently he has decided you have seen enough.
Deamhan is in perfect health.
Deamhan is using:
<used as light> (Magical) (Glowing) a war banner
<worn on body> a snowy white poet shirt
<worn on legs> a pair of black velvet leggings
<worn on feet> ornamented bucket-topped black riding boots
<worn about body> an elegant black velvet doublet
<held> a single black rose
<worn with pride> an ear cuff made of polished silver
Hel [ Cleric 11 ] Deamhan An-Shalach. Kindred. Always.
Hel [. .. . Cl:23. .. . ] Deamhan An-Shalach, Kindred Chosen by Cordir
Hel [ Cl:26 ] Deamhan An-Shalach, Cordir's by fate and choice [Kin]
You are Deamhan An-Shalach, Cordir's by fate and choice [Kin],
222 years old (421 hours), created Mon Oct 27 97 18:13:15.
(Searynx the 1st, The Dawning, year 2255, 5pm.)
You were born before birth records were actually kept.
You live in The Half-Elf Camp and your race is Half-Elf.
You are a level 25 Cleric.
You worship Cordir, who appears to be OFFLINE
You have 396/396 hit, 207/252 mana, 277/277 movement, 0 practices.
You have 0 training sessions remaining.
You are carrying 31/35 items with weight 2 59/650 kg.
Str: TRN Int: TRN Wis: TRN Dex: TRN Con: MAX Chr: TRN
TRN = trainable, MAX = untrainable.
You are neither very lucky nor unlucky.
You have scored 381235 exp (390878 total), and have 20908 gold coins.
You need 11375 exp for level 26.
Autoexit: yes. Autogold: yes. Autoloot: no. Autosac: no.
Wimpy set to 100 hit points.
You are standing.
You are well armored.
You are Neutral.
You are affected by:
Spell: 'true seeing'.
Spell : 'protection good'.
Spell: 'protection evil'.
Deamhan and his brother, Diabhail, are the children of Magda of the Half-Elf Camp and Vil, Prince of the Demon Realm. Khore Embraced the two at a fairly young age, and Diabhail gave himself wholly over to blood lust, leaving civilized ways far behind. Deamhan stayed in the Kindred, loyal until its bitterest end. It was during this time that he met Cordir, a young mage. The two had a friendship and mild flirtation for years, then decades. After she was able to depart the Black Conclave, the two finally acknowledged the bond that had been growing during that time. Through manipulation of the Pattern itself, they were able to conceive a child together: Mireya. Shortly after Mireya's birth, however, Deamhan was captured by his father, hidden away, and tortured. Cordir sought him out, and with the direct assistance of the Triat and the self-sacrifice of a dear friend, they were able to break the spell of bloodlust binding the vampire. After he had healed, Cordir sought his aid in completing a Trial of Triat Mastery, and regained her lost mage-skills. The two were wed by Thaygar shortly after her Ascension to Immortality. The two remained faithfully wed for centuries, with Deamhan serving as a Priest within the Chosen of Fate. The two raised their daughter to young adulthood, and then the price had to be paid for the magics it had cost to birth her: Deamhan faded away into the mist.
Notes: Log by Cordir. The system time is Thu Aug 1 00:30:06 1996
You say (in common) 'Taffron, this is Deamhan'.
Deamhan smiles happily.
Taffron waves happily.
Deamhan waves happily.
You say (in common) 'An honored one of the Kindred'.
Taffron nods in recognition to Deamhan.
Deamhan says (in common) 'Pleased to meet you, Taffron'.
Taffron says (in common) 'I've heard of you and your partner'.
Deamhan grins evilly.
You say (in common) 'His reputation preceeds him'.
You say (in common) 'So does his drool'.
Deamhan snickers softly.
Cordir gets a hanky.
Deamhan pokes you in the ribs.
Cordir gives Deamhan a hanky.
Deamhan says (in common) 'ahem'.
Deamhan has not drooled lately.
Deamhan says (in common) 'not...much...anyway'.
- Reunion: A shared authorship story/RP between Deamhan and Cordir
- Seeking Night: A shared authorship story/RP between Deamhan, Cordir, and Nyx
- The Tale of Magda: The story of Deamhan's mother - a shared authorship story/rp
- The Sins of the Fathers: The story of Deamhan's father
- Of The Blood: A discussion between Dalmiera and Deamhan
Player Provided Information:
|Deamhan was a character that I got to interact with for quite some time before the two characters ever became romantically linked. I enjoyed the mixture of humor and solemnness that Deamhan's player brought to the character. Because of some difficulty the player was having with a member of the god+ staff at the time, as well as to stay within the boundaries of the TFC rules on relationships and 'relations,' a bunch of our RP was done off mud, via telnet session or in emails creating co-written stories. I treasure the tales that we wove back and forth. Deamhan was also one who could be counted on for innately understanding the needed Triat Level Creepiness for Chosen of Fate rituals and special occaisions.|
- Deamhan was one of the faithful who was retained by Khore, past the Purging of the Kindred.
- Deamhan is mentioned in all of the versions of the Chosen of Fate temple, in the Silver thread.
- Deamhan shared a story with the Chosen of Fate about his family: The Sins of the Fathers
(Indigo Aura) The Embrace of the Weaver
Long Description: The air shimmers here, like the faintest moonlight kiss upon spider-webs. Look embrace: This glittering artifact appears at first glance to be a gossamer cloak of unnatural fabric, seemingly woven from spider silk. With deep and concealing hood, its shimmering length fully conceals he for whom it was made. The intricate fibers gleam - first darkest silver, then midnight indigo. Look weaver: As you gaze at the Embrace, the image of its Creatrix appears in your mind: Cordir An'Shalach crafted this thing, as a bride-gift to her lover, husband and lord, Deamhan. Foul dishonor to those who would wrest it from him and bear it in his stead. Look Cloak: Catching up the hem of the cloak, you examine it more closely for some clue as to its construction and purpose. The threads glitter and seem warm beneath your fingertips. As you study it, patterns begin to emerge, like the faintest illusion of a dream ... a drop of blood, a wooden statue, a weaving shuttle, a chain of iron, an argentine spider, a triple-stranded cord, and a spider-web... but perhaps you imagined them all, for after your blink of surprise, they have disappeared. Look drop blood: You look again, unfocusing your eyes somewhat, and open your mind to what this mysterious artifact would reveal ... a scene appears of Jacek's stone, within the Half-Elf camp. Night darkens the sky as the Vampire lord claims a young wanderer as Kindred. Look wooden carving: You look again, unfocusing your eyes somewhat, and open your mind to what this mysterious artifact would reveal ... Again, the camp of the scorned half-breeds. A small tent. A woman known to your eyes sits quietly in her tent, rocking slightly back and forth. A flash of light fills the tent, and the Lady of Fate stands before the woman, kneels before her, and takes her hand. The woman stirs as the Weaver gives her silent comfort, and begins to weep. Look weaving shuttle: You look again, unfocusing your eyes somewhat, and open your mind to what this mysterious artifact would reveal ... A couple lie in a tiny, cramped, hidden space, curled in each others' arms. Words are spoken, bodies entwine, a spell is cast, and a soul called to join them. Look chain iron: You look again, unfocusing your eyes somewhat, and open your mind to what this mysterious artifact would reveal ...feral and deadly even to the untrained eye, a dark figure appears within a moonlit garden. His hands are claws, his eyes wild. He shrinks into the shadows. Slowly, his hands emerge into the pooled moonlight. An anguished sound, after long silence. He steps out of the shadows falls to his knees, sobbing with gut-wrenching loss. Look argentine spider: You look again, unfocusing your eyes somewhat, and open your mind to what this mysterious artifact would reveal ... A pair of women walk upon a sandy beach, facing the pounding waves. They speak of one lost to them - father to one, lover to the other. The Weaver spins a vision for her daughter of the one they both long for and holds the moment in her heart to share with him upon his return. Look triple-stranded triple strand cord: You look again, unfocusing your eyes somewhat, and open your mind to what this mysterious artifact would reveal ... Thaygar, Master of the Ebon Hand and loyal servant of the Triat, stands as Priest for a rite before a gathering within a hidden garden of ebon-hued roses. Kneeling, a couple hold hands, which He binds with a trio of cords: the first made of blood, the second of flesh and lastly of spirit. Patterns forever joined, the couple shares both a Kiss and an Embrace, their union witnessed and solemnized before their family, friends and gods. Look spider-web: You look again, unfocusing your eyes somewhat, and open your mind to what this mysterious artifact would reveal... Paired Patterns, each with its own uniqueness, each with its mirrors of the other, entwine a third and reach out to touch others within the Web that is Life. Look Keywords: Keywords: weaver, embrace, cloak, blood, carving, shuttle, chain, spider, cord
3/20/99 - Deamhan weds Cordir in a ceremony officiated by Thaygar. <LOG>
7/1/99 - Deamhan An-Shalach, Oathed beloved of Cordir, joins the Chosen of Fate. <LOG>
9/16/99 - Dinin, the Ebon Lorebringer, gives Deamhan and Cordir a gift... In a proper ceremony requiring Loss for Gain, Cordir recieves back her long-lost wedding gift to Deamhan, and re-bestows it. <LOG> As a thank-you gift in return, Cordir reads the pattern, and informs Dinin that another member of his bloodline exists, and sets him to the task of finding this lost relative.
3/17/00 - Cordir and Deamhan renew their wedding vows. <LOG>