Septimus Tran

Discussion in 'Character Information' started by Dekerrex, Jun 13, 2020.

  1. Dekerrex

    Dekerrex Aberrant Serpent Ex-Staff Gold Donator

    Jun 26, 2017
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    Septimus Tran: The Man of a Thousand Lives and a Thousand Tragedies

    Name: Septimus Evarsus Tran, formerly Sevianthus Mortaen
    Titles: Royal Advisor, Royal Problem Solver, Chief Alchemist, The Tongue of the Crown
    Aliases: The Hound, The King’s Hound, The Horror, Cockroach, Snake
    Age: 96
    Birth Date: September 25th, 3191
    Birth Place: Ancestor’s Landing
    Species: Thaniifarri
    Race: Lamiica
    Gender: Hermaphrodite, normally identifies as male
    Places of Residence: Dragon's Tomb Palace.
    Occupation: Royal Advisor to The Throne of La'Megoth, chief Alchemist of House Tran, Professor of Alchemy and Physics at Wyrmrot University

    Familial ties
    Elarain Mortaen: Biological Mother
    Mortavius Mortaen: Biological Father
    Gallimere Mortaen: Brother
    Avasus Mortaen: Sister
    Drakonykus Vladimir ‘Zuhko’ Tran: Master and Brother bound by law.
    Luce Tran: Niece

    The tale of Septimus begins before his birth, with the wedded coupling of Mortavius and Elarain. Mortavius was an oracle to the spirit Moravi, as was his father, and his father’s father, as far back as the bloodline can be traced, and thus would be the role inherited by his own offspring. By the time the exodus known as Starlight took place, Mortavius and Elarain had already one offspring, the eldest being Gallimere, and the egg of Avasus still incubating. It was these four of the clan of Mortaen that joined others in one particular portal that brought them to La’Megoth.

    It was a harsh and brutal place, few surviving the lethal predatory plants, though the survivors of the first night made due, and soon a small encampment was made. It would be here that Septimus’ egg was conceived, and some months later, hatched.

    Survival in The Bogs
    Septimus, or Sevianthus as he was named by Elarain, was the runt of the litter. Gallimere was already a blossoming youth, large and strong, and always willing to prove his worth around the encampment. Avasus shared these genes, but focused her time learning the healing arts instead. Sevianthus had neither strength nor size. It was a difficult year for the colony, and thus could not be given as much nutrients as his siblings during the formation of his egg. Victim of genetics, Sevianthus was predicted not to last long in the harsh wilderness of the cold bogs.

    As months turned to years, it was clear that Sevianthus was falling behind in development, and was picked on by his siblings for this lack of strength, and often lack of ability, though his mother would always be there to spur him on when times became rough. Despite this rough upbringing and toxic family, Sevianthus made friends with another firstborn of the colony, Naroki, though even she had fared better than him. They bonded over their shared loneliness, Naroki not being outcast from lack of ability, but the protection of her family making her a pariah to the other youth, though she and Sevianthus would sneak out from the confines of the colony regularly to play with the strange flora and fauna, steal from the gatherer’s haul, or simply to get away from the drama of the struggling colony.

    As the years went on, and Sevianthus reached the age of fifteen, it was time for him to pick a profession to become his caste. He was still small compared to Gallimere, who had three years prior become a hunter and a defender, and Avasus who just a year before became a herbalist. He could not fight, and had not spent time learning from masters as youth should, instead being a roughian with Naroki, and thus showed little promise. Days before the ritual wherein Sevianthus would pick his role, Mortavius and Elarain had an explosive fight, Mortavious claiming Sevianthus as a waste of food and energy of the others, one who cannot haul his own weight, and has not a care in the world for the struggles they must face every day. Avasus overheard this argument with Sevianthus, and tried to console him, but it drove the young child to tears. He wrote to Naroki proclaiming his heart would always be hers, and ran away into the bogs.

    Drakablod activities had increased over these fifteen years however, with raids on the colony increasing dramatically, and one such hunting party came across the distressed child, and captured him.

    Servitude and Salvation
    The trapped child was forced in a cage for weeks, poked at by the poachers, burned, toyed with. It reduced Sevianthus to an almost primal state as food was a rare privilege, and survival depended upon aggression and awareness. He could not speak to these people, and they would not listen. After some months of this, Sevianthus was put on auction with other exotic beasts, and sold to the highest bidder, Draekys Tran, the current ruling Dragon Emperor.

    Sevianthus was given to the Dragon Prince, Drakonykus, as a birthday gift befit for royalty. A servant always around to ensure no harm came to the then ten year old prince, doing so with extreme prejudice if need be. The animalistic behavior that kept Sevianthus alive this long however was beginning to wane, as Drakonykus made sure to take good care of this new pet, regular feedings, playtime, and general accompaniment. Drakonykus found out rather quickly the intelligence of his new pet, and though they couldn't understand one another’s words, they understood each other’s actions and intentions nonetheless. Eventually, Drakonykus demanded that Sevianthus be allowed with him during his education, if for nothing else, for the support the ‘animal’ could provide in the rigorous teachings royalty had to undergo. During this time Sevianthus had begun picking up on the Drakablod language, and could articulate simple sentences, and understand what was told to him to a decent amount, and if anything from the lesson escaped him, Drakonykus would help. They quickly became eager partners and friends.

    Upon Drakonykus’ fourteenth year, and Sevianthus’ nineteenth, Drakonykus introduced the family pet not as an animal, but as a person; allowing Sevianthus to pick his own name, and for the first time openly speaking to Draekys. It was then he permanently became known as Septimus, throwing away the last remnant of his old family in the process.

    The action of Septimus speaking, fluently, and understanding the lessons Drakonykus learned just as well as him, shocked the Trans, and this quickly became a point of contention between Septimus and Drakonykus’s elders. Septimus was to remain as a family pet, but if he was so capable as he was trying to prove himself into being, he would be put to work, joining the servant force. This displeased the existing servants who saw the Thaniifarri as beasts yet still, and did not tarnish their reputations by being one’s peer. Once again Septimus was facing a toxic familial relationship, and once again he had a friend to sit through it; Drakonykus.

    The next six years were grueling, Septimus growing restless of being restricted to the inside of Dragon’s tomb hidden away from the rest of the world he had learned so much about, but Drakonykus was far less so, keeping his nose in a book whenever he could, the only friend he feeling needed being Septimus himself. Seeing as he would be getting no help in his dreams, Septimus began seeking out ways to accomplish them himself.

    He had become well versed in the mechanisms found in the bowels of Dragon’s Tomb after his time working with the servants, and decided to put this to good use. Draekys had lost an arm when dealing with Lamia just months prior. The amputation that followed putting the old emperor into a deep melancholy. Septimus decided to make Draekys a new arm to appeal to him, using scrap metal and pulley mechanisms scavenged together from the inner workings of the palace. The arm was somewhat functional- it was far from cybernetic, but could flex with the movement of one’s shoulder. Draekys was apprehensive about the gift at first, still holding prejudices against the freak his son insisted on keeping, but could not deny that the new arm made him feel better, made him feel as though he was no longer lame, he began to respect Septimus after this day.

    After earning the respect of Draekys, and several misadventures, one most notable of which involving hijacking a carriage and ruining an entire city street, the secret of Septimus was let out, and whispers of House Tran accepting beasts into their fold grew and grew.

    Coming of age and Racial Injustice
    Upon entering his 20th year, Drakonykus at last became of age to take the throne from Draekys, and one of his first motions was to inaugurate Septimus into House Tran officially, recognizing Septimus as Drakonykus’s brother, though retaining the role of servant and close friend. The transition of power was mostly peaceful, though populace were racially charged. Some nobility threatened to no longer acknowledge Tran so long as they had an animal as Dragon’s Tomb’s Royal Advisor. He had tried all he could to be accepted: He learned how to change his body and face to be like their own over the years, he adopted their culture in its fullest, he tried to be nice when applicable, and to hold a stern fist as well. Regardless of his efforts, he was always met with disdain and distrust. Septimus was faced with numerous assassination affempts, all faltered by the royal guard, though these served as an awakening, and he began training in the art of combat for his own safety, and for the safety of his brother, whom too was at risk for his actions.

    By this point, the colony, now known as Ancestor’s Landing, had grown and expanded into its own pocket in the bog, not letting any Drakablod in, but sometimes having some of their own come out in pieces. Septimus, though still with hatred at his own family, could not let this continue. He now had the age and wisdom to look back, to understand the stress, pain, and struggle his family felt, how all Thaniifarri migrants on La’Megoth must feel. He was in a position of power, and made it his new mission to see to it there was no more needless death and violence. Knowing well his reputation would continue to be tarnished if he was seen speaking with the beasts in the bog, he went under cover of darkness and disguise.

    He ventured deep into the bog, throwing away his mimicry of the Drakablod to return to his natural form so his people would accept him easier, though the bogs are treacherous, and Septimus was soon at the mercy of reclaimer vines, calling out for help, calls landing upon the ears of Gallimere. Septimus was saved with a few strong strokes displacing the vines from their bulb, and Septimus falling to the ground, injured. The reunion was less than happy however, Gallimere picking Septimus up by the scuff and dragging him back to Ancestors Landing.

    Mortavius, being oracle, worked with the other patriarchs of the remaining clan survivors, and welcomed Septimus by spitting at his feet. Elarain had been looking for Septimus after he ran away, and both Mortavius and Gallimere blamed her death on Septimus. It was not long before a trial was made accusing Septimus of murder, his cries of saving them falling on flat ears, until Avasus and Naroki came to his defense, narrowly saving him from execution.

    Septimus was given a platform to speak, and told the Thaniifarri of Ancestors Landing that the Drakablod were civilized folk and could be reasoned with, that the endless slaughtering of each others people can come to an end, if only they could learn from each other. Mortavius would not accept anything less than riding their home of the Drakablod, and left the council, his decision already made. The remaining patriarchs were hesitant, and would not act until they came to a consensus on how to proceed with negotiations if at all.

    Avasus gave Septimus quarter during his time back, though the news of Septimus’ return, and trial, got to Naroki. She snuck into his room, and they spent a night that began as simply catching up after the years and into a deep and lecherous reunion.

    The return home was short lived, as the council had decided that they would only hold negotiations if they had an audience with the Drakablod council, though none yet existed. Septimus agreed to this though, and traveled back to Drakonykus to recant his tale. The two strewn together a plan, as they could not make another executive decision without risking the other noble houses’ outrage. They would pick the leader of each noble house and invite them to a party to be held on the date of the council meeting.

    The Council of Ancestor’s Landing and the leaders of the Noble Houses of Dragon’s Tomb met in the palace, and at first the situation threatened to spiral out of control as the nobles felt as though they were tricked, which they indeed were, and the language barrier between both parties doing little to quell tensions. Guards were present to avoid violence, and Septimus acted as a translator. This exchange had session after session, often spanning entire days at a time, warranting a later return after each passing. A treatise was at last made and signed into law after much debate about species rights, how their individual hierarchies would work, what counts as a noble family or clan, et cetera.

    After the law was signed, and the noble houses and clans acknowledged its ruling, the following decades were full of racial tension as species began mixing, Thaniifarri moving into Dragon’s tomb, and Ancestor’s Landing becoming a holy sight for the growing religious fervor for the introduced faith.

    Despite this, Septimus remained disowned by his father, and remained in difficult relationships with Gallimere, Avasus being the bridge between the familial conflict.

    The Cost of Pursuing Knowledge
    The years following the Treatise of Mixed Bloods became an era of enlightenment as arts and knowledge was exchanged between the species. Septimus could begin breathing easier now, and took to this new era as a scholar- taking advantage of the influx of experimentation and acculturation. Having grown up consuming countless books from Drakonykus’ grand library, studying Drakablod philosophy and sciences, as well as his learnings from his time in his own family of the traditions and arts of the Thaniifarri, Septimus took strongly to the blooming sciences.

    Ever since he was a hatchling, Septimus was infatuated with the tale of Vit-San’s metal men; a story discussing the notion of creating life itself from the materials you have before you. A new soul, a new breed. He began studying the alchemical and physical arts intently, meeting with old masters and scholars alike to get their wisdom. He and his team made great strides in alchemy during these years, however it was when Septimus met with an elder mage had he gotten the idea that would change his life forever: Participating in The Vile Sciences.

    Vit-San was an ancient Archmage, it made perfect sense to Septimus if he were to recreate the metal men he needed to understand the forces at work. He had no practice with such arts prior to this, however the elder had told him Septimus had a bright soul, and the potential was there. He was given anomalous materials and tools from the elder, items with uses from a bygone era, some of which had not been forged in centuries. Rather than become an apprentice to this elder however, Septimus was too eager to try to apply these materials to his field of study. He began learning of Xiis, energy that flowed from the spirit world in his native legends, and that some of these items radiated it like a heart pulses blood. Experiments began on the various uses and applications of these objects. Shards of Prisilite, Mana Dust, ancient foci- all priceless relics of a bygone age. His lab expanded as a result, new machines being made to support his new tool kit, larger demands for energy, larger demands for test subjects. Septimus however had little idea what the effects were on him. He had inadvertently entrenched himself in cuils; it was making him sick, weak. Ulcers and scars erupting on his body. Drakonykus begged him to stop, he is not a mage and cannot handle messing with arts he knows little about- but Septimus did not listen- he felt so close to a breakthrough. He knew how to flow ‘Xiis’, he knew how to dampen it, to increase it. It was only a matter of time before he could make the perfect vessel for this new life. The concept became his obsession, that he could play god, go down in the annals of history for his achievements.

    A vessel was built, and Septimus himself grew ragged. His laboratory was all but in shambles from the mess he had made in his efforts, from the toxicity in the air around him from the cuils. It was to be a stormy night, and a lightning rod was held high above his lab. The lightning would be enough energy to be the catalyst that would give the vessel life- or so he thought.

    Upon the strike, everything went as planned- the electricity passed through his systems, filtered into a focus, and expelled as an explosion of cuils- too much. The vessel erupted in anomaly, consuming septimus. His body began to break down, falling victim to the pull of hyperspace, his very being falling apart on every level. Septimus screamed for his servants' help, instructing them what to do to stabilize him. They took a knife and ran it with mana dust, carving the substance into Septimus’ hide in directed patterns that would absorb and redirect the anomaly that threatened them all. When all was said and done, the servants left Septimus, uncertain if he had the strength to survive the encounter.

    By dawn, Septimus was little more than an amorphous mass of his former self, but still alive, and still mostly intact. The new wounds in his flesh glowed a vibrant purple as anomaly flowed through them in cycles. He was placed in quarantine, Drakonykus worried sick about his brother and what the future would hold.

    Septimus used his skills in body modification to pull himself together the best he could, but it would take years before he could fully reform himself properly. Furthermore, with anomaly coursing through his body, he found himself altering the world around him in strange ways. He could heat up or cool down the room, boil water, freeze air. Sometimes unintentionally, sometimes with great effort. There he would lay, on what surmounted as a death bed, meditating on what he had learned from his experiments, and pushing the limits to what he could do now. Septimus spent an entire year bed ridden like this, slowly pulling himself together, slowly piecing together the curse he had bestowed upon himself.

    By the time Septimus could walk again, the anomaly had largely diffused from his body, and he could re-enter society, a new and shaken man.

    Over the following years, Septimus visited the elder again several times, this curse could be undone, or so he thought, but the elder had other ideas. He took Septimus under his wing, proclaiming him to be first of a new breed of mages, and attempted to train him. It angered Septimus, his lust for discovery having been destroyed from The Incident, and wishing to resume his mundane life, however the elder had convinced Septimus to stay under the pretense of ‘If we cannot cure you, you should know how to control your gift so you do not bring harm to others’ and Septimus reluctantly accepted the guidance.

    At first the results were lacking, though Septimus was causing chemical reactions through great effort, or even through his emotions should they become too powerful, he was only becoming more and more destructive with them. Rocks crumbling into sand and dust, water boiling away, flesh warping. He grew to hate himself, to hate the elder. He spent weeks meditating, practicing for entire days at a time, and yet control was proving impossible, the elder kept reminding Septimus to have patience, to continue practicing, that he has grown so much already. Septimus was enraged, and lashed out at the elderm inevitably killing him by turning him to stone. Despite his actions and his rage, the elder became dear to Septimus after the years, and his actions resonated deep within him, he had destroyed the only hope he had in one selfish outburst. Ever since then, Septimus has been trying to atone for his actions- the stone statue of the elder being turned into a shrine and a grave, and Septimus better heeding his lessons, meditating, practicing, learning all he could about this power, what lengths he could push it to, and how to control it the best he could. The elder saw these powers as a gift, and so Septimus would try to see things as such, and not to squander them. He would become the next generation of mages, and would spend the rest of his life trying to do so.

    Decades later, Septimus reached proficiency with his gifts, and returned to the scientific field, seeing them as a new tool for discovery and the advancement of life on La’Megoth. He would become Chief Alchemist under the rulership of Drakonykus, an occupation he would maintain and advance to this day.

    Rivers Red
    Some 40 years after The Incident, there was an assassination atempt on Drakonykus -who at this time had earned the pseudonym Zuhko- that was all but successful, being stopped through a joint effort by Septimus and Zuhko by a hair. The assassin was known as Lydia the Huntess, she and her brother were sent by their father, a noble from another city, and another breed of Drakablod entirely. While Lydia’s brother was spotted and captured before the trap could be sprung, Lydia had made it so close that she had drawn blood on their lord. This unfortunately was the result of growing unrest with Zuhko, and would be the first of many attempts. Much to Septimus’ chagrin, Lydia was given a chance at life by working with Septimus under Zuhko’s command to counter these attempts on his life, and enact aristocratic justice as seen fit by their lord.

    Septimus, Lydia, and Zuhko became known shortly thereafter as “The Terrible Trio” as their forces combined reaped havoc upon the unruly, just, and unjust alike. Septimus’s services as advisor had expanded into the dark side of political intrigue, and he grew to like it; the thrill of the hunt, the taste of blood, the look of fear in prey’s eyes, the rush one gets the moment before the kill. He and Lydia became merciless predators, monsters in the public eye. High on the power fear brought him, Septimus took to this roll with gusto, becoming he who tortures those in his lord’s dungeon, he who is the arbiter of life and death after capture, a sadistic megalomaniac.

    Some time after, La’Megoth was introduced to the greater galactic society, though they were aware other worlds existed, they did not imagine so many, so many stars, so many worlds, so many peoples. Beginning in the undercrypt and expanding from there, La’Megoth stole and refurbished technology previously unknown or lost to time and catastrophe. Septimus took to this quickly, surveying new worlds for his lord, learning the language spoken among seemingly every species they encountered, partook in the greater societal culture, and joined a group of ruffians who made sport of fighting one another in an arena. With an ego now the size of a mountain, Septimus joined this challenge, picking an opponent out of Blake Evetion. The first match was difficult, and subsequent matches introduced more and more dirty tactics as neither refused to be beaten. After numerous matches, the two became bitter rivals, extending even outside the arena, one such instance proving catastrophic, wherein Blake had humiliated Septimus and injured him substantively. He would not take this lying down, this act against him incurring his full wrath. When next he and Blake met, she was kidnapped and taken away. He wished to destroy her, in drawn out savage complexity, to break her down, to make her suffer. When the actions ceased, he saw the misery in her eyes, and stood back from the atrocities he had committed. Ashamed at himself, ashamed at the monster he had let himself become, he began treating the wounds he inflicted on Blake. When Blake had recovered enough, he let her go, and vowed to leave this life of death, torture, and bloodletting behind for good. No more would he welcome the title “The Horror.”

    He returned to Dragon’s Tomb, not to wander beyond the confines of La’Megoth unless needed. He wished to be alone, but once again found company in the embrace of Naroki, though this embrace would be short-lived. Naroki had been betrothed to a Drakablod noble so that her family could be hoisted into the aristocracy, and though she and Septimus did not want the marriage, they both understood the significance of this mixed species wedding, one of the first in La’Megoth history, and destroying it for selfish reasons could undo all the effort that went into unifying the species all those years ago.

    The Crusade
    As La’Megoth opened up to the galactic community, it was discovered by a rogue group of spacefaring Thaniifarri who tracks down and absorbs other populations. This group was known as An’Dyven. Initially they claimed interest in trade and negotiations, Septimus being sent to speak with their representatives, though things grew hostile as Septimus refused to acknowledge their seventh deity, and even moreso upon An’Dyven discovering the cult of Dicarre had consumed much of La’Megoth’s inhabitants, those refusing to convert to the new faith of An’Dyven. Shortly thereafter, the invasions began.

    Ground assaults were launched in attempts to take over Dragon’s Tomb, however Septimus, Lydia, Zuhko, and many other strong warriors faced them in the front lines, valiantly defending their home, though they were outclassed outnumbered and outgunned for nearly every fight. This went on for some months, Septimus for a short period leading a specialist squad to take down encampments around the bogs, though one group came prepared for this tactic eventually, ambushing Septimus and his squadron. The others were executed, but Septimus was taken captive as the leader of An’Dyven -Dyvros- had bigger plans.

    An Atronach core was embedded in Septimus’ flesh, and bound him to a suit of armor that controlled his movements. He was put on display in the upcoming battles, The King’s brother now under the command of Dyvros, as a demoralizer, and as a useful asset. Septimus could not escape from the atronach, for every attempt was met with horrible vibrations that threatened to shatter him alive. He endured this forced service for some weeks, being trophied around for his ‘devotion’ to the god-king Dyvros. This was however until a strike force invaded An’Dyven’s ship directly, resulting in an emergency portal opening which Septimus, other An’Dyven warriors, and some Drakablod guard came pouring out. The portal opened up into Adromian Space.

    Stranger in a Strange Land
    Once through the portal, the Atronach’s connection to Dyvros was severed, and he regained control of himself, executing the remaining An’Dyven soldiers upon them all being abducted into an adromian vessel. Being the only one alive who spoke their language, he was taken prisoner by the Adromians, interrogated, and eventually let go.

    Much to Septimus’ protest he was given citizenship by Diana Silvay, and allowed to stay on The Absolution where he and the others were taken. He appreciated the hospitality, but was eagerly waiting to return home where the war effort needed him, where Zuhko and Lydia needed him, Where Naroki was in danger. No ship fast enough would take him back home, for the systems were a vast distance apart, and Septimus was just one insignificant man to waste the resources on, compared to the various war efforts and political schemes of the many factions fighting for dominance in this sector of space, no teleporter could take him to La’Megoth, and Adroma lacked portal technology to pinpoint their way back. He was stranded.

    Within days of being on the absolution, Septimus entered a deep melancholy. There was nothing he could do, for all he knew, his friends and family had died and he could not save them. He stayed this way for countless weeks, unsure how to go on, unsure of what to even do with himself. He began contemplating ending it all, but lost the resolve to when he realized that if he were to pass, so too would the memories of and the stories of his endeavors, and those of his friends, nothing more than an afterthought in the vastness of space.

    Diana was quick to try to save Septimus from himself, pushing him into directions he may make himself useful, and find new purpose. He was tasked with guarding the next figurehead of Adroma, Princess Avaline, in some feeble attempt to make him feel some semblance of normal. It was not. Septimus saw this as a mockery of himself, of Zuhko. An embarrassing substitution for what was, as Avaline was a brat and would constantly get in trouble, trouble which Septimus was the butt end of. Unfortunately this would be only the beginning, as Avaline was the heart of political conspiracies plaguing Adroma, and Septimus’ apathy was costing factions their ground at the expense of others. He soon found himself enemies within the inhabitants for the misuse of his position, and his mere existence throwing wrenches in plans. Septimus however had no grander plan, and when people sent for his death, he simply ran and hid. He had no reason to fight, he had no reason to be in this dreadful place. If they wanted him gone, so be it. The only friends he seemed to have was Diana herself, but this was soon to change.

    With his failure as a royal guard, Septimus was moved to a greater use as part of The Black Hand, a savage floran tribe acting as guerillas for Adroma, it was here he met Lazarus, and saw Blake for the first time since their horrible altercation. Lazarus was leader of The Black Hand, and welcomed Septimus with open arms, showing him respect and companionship Septimus had not seen of the Adromians. Though he had swore off killing unless necessary, he joined this tribe, and trained with Lazarus and his kin. Blake however, was a much less easy story, as Septimus many times had attempted to apologize, and many times failed into a nervous mess, or simply not spoken at all. When he finally managed to talk to Blake, she acted like their interaction had never occurred, and this brought peace to Septimus, either it was forgotten, or she did not care, or she did in fact care enough to not bother him with vices. Life had finally begun looking up since his arrival, until An’Dyven found their way to Adroma.

    The invasion was swift, violent, and caused great hemorrhaging across the faction, felt by everyone. Septimus knew these people, and warned Diana and Lazarus, though once An’Dyven’s fleet was dissolved and their people evacuated, Septimus was put to work acting as translator to the people he so dearly despised. Once again feeling like his life had become a mockery as he is forced to aid the same people that could have killed his family, and destroyed his past life. He grew bitter and hateful for it, but Diana and Lazarus consoled him when he needed it most.

    After combing through the survivors, and seeing few, if any Thaniifarri he recognized from La’Megoth, Septimus grew the idea that his home may not be in shambles after all, that there may be a home to return to, though by this point he had lived in Adroma for over a year, and grew close to some of its natives. It was a difficult decision as he would once again have to leave people he cared about. Regardless, a plan was put into action in the event he does make up his mind; he would play the Adromian political game to get a ship for himself to fly home to. Soon though, the decision was made for him, as Adroma quickly began collapsing in on itself from political intrigue, and the deals Septimus had made to secure his ship did not help this fact, instead maybe even accelerating it. War broke out, and Septimus had no choice but to leave, or die. And so he left, silently flying off in a small ship, programmed autopilot to where La’Megoth was triangulated to be after months of study. Fortunately, these efforts paid off: Septimus returned home weeks later, barely alive from the journey lost in space, but home nonetheless, his ship crashing into the main plaza of Dragon’s Tomb.

    Dawn of a New Era
    Septimus was quickly welcomed back by Zuhko, and he was eager to see all of his friends and family again. A celebration was thrown for his safe return, a feast with the entire house of Tran, and Lydia. Merry making consumed time until the sun rose again, though there was one person Septimus missed more than most; Naroki. He knew of the betrothal, but the wedding had not yet transpired before the invasion, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Septimus had hoped the man did not survive it, though he knew better not to say it. He visited Naroki’s house, only to find that she was not there, only her parents and siblings. They informed Septimus that the marriage had gone underway only weeks prior, and Naroki had moved into her new husband’s abode. Nearly as quickly as the merry making began, had it ended. Septimus wanted to protest this, to use his political influence to banish the other man, to take Naroki for himself, but he knew better, The marriage was to secure ties between clans, between species, to break it would be disastrous in the political spheres. He swallowed his pride and his desires, and returned to his lord's side, returning to his life as advisor, as an alchemist, a servant, a psion, and a friend.

    Though still young for his kind, Septimus had thought of retiring from this life. Zuhko’s age was showing, and his mental stability faltering more and more as the time went on. Lydia too was aging, entering her prime. She could take Septimus’ place if he left, be the royal advisor for Princess Luce, next in line for the throne. In a way, for several months, he did retire. No longer making deals in political intrigue, no longer killing at his lord's behest, no longer the strict bodyguard. His studies began taking up his time in place of this. Advancing the sciences of La’Megoth, and as his world began catching up and undergoing its own industrial revolution at the hands of the empires beyond its atmosphere, his mind began drifting again to worlds beyond.

    Septimus in the present era now lives the life of a field scientist, leaving La’Megoth behind every so often as to explore anomalies across the stars, discover and study cultures, and learn from minds greater than his own.

    General Appearance
    Height: 5’ 4’’, or 163cm
    Weight: 180 lbs, or 82 kg
    Shape of Face: Triangular
    Body Type: Mesomorph; lean and well toned, but not too muscular.
    Skin Color: Warm Ivory
    Hair Color: Snow white
    Eye Color: Bright Gold
    Complexion: Flawless
    Posture: Upright and full of confidence
    Distinguishing Features: Black markings around and under eyes, black markings decorating back and along spine, blackened fingertips and claws.


    • Tight fitting black turtleneck shirt made of processed reclaimer vine fibers.
    • Tight fitting dark grey leggings made of the same substance.
    • Verdant green waistcoat with brass buttons.
    • Dark brown leather knee high, high heeled boots with silver buckles.
    • Durasteel arm bracers with intricate engravings and inset green quartz
    • Two thin dark brown leather belts around the waist with pouches and holsters for equipment and other items.
    • Dual ‘Damascus’ durasteel war-sickles, polished with a brass sheen and sharpened down to the molecule on the outside
    • Dash Tech, that silently blinks upon activation.
    • Six throwing knives
    General Health: Overall in good health
    Energy Level: Moderate
    Illnesses: Unstable biology
    Memory: Very clear
    Destructive Habits: Experimenting on self, pushing his body to its limits frequently. He tends to ignore pain as much as he can, often leading to worse injury.

    Volume: Quiet, mostly.
    Style of speaking: Overly formal.
    Sound of Voice: Quiet and smooth, with undertones of age.
    Known Languages: Thaniik, Drakablod, Galactic Standard, Skeleton, Various Lamia languages
    Vocabulary: Expansive, likes using large words to make him sound more intelligent.

    Reputation: “The Silver Tongue of the Throne” “The Unyielding Hound of Tran.” Often seen as intelligent and skilled by others. Known for his honeyed words and unyielding determination unless self preservation gets in the way. Considered to always be up to something, good or otherwise.
    General Intelligence: Well read, well versed in various arts, literature, political theory, and the vile sciences.

    Short Term Goals: Find out IC
    Long term Goals: Find out IC
    Likes: Orchestral music, playing the cello, sketching, experimenting, exploring new areas, looking his best.
    Dislikes: Getting too dirty, being sent on mindless tasks, the entirety of House Tale, being far from home, being called a monster.
    Religious Values: Worships the six Avi’Thanu, though prefers this not leach into his daily tasks and activities.

    Zuhko Tran- “I would die for this man, easily. He is my brother, bound not by blood but by heart and soul.”

    Lydia Jagryn- “One of the greatest warriors and greatest companions one could ever dream of”

    Emma Tran- “She was perhaps the most sensible of the family. May she rest in peace..”

    Luce Tran- “An innocent and growing soul, who needs a father in her life, and though capable my brother simply is not there. I don’t know if I can take such responsibility, but my heart tells me I must.”

    Gallimere Mortaen- “His judgement is clouded with the ideals of honor. I wish him the best regardless”

    Avasus Mortaen- “I could always count on her, even if the world seemed against me, she never was.

    Naroki Viitlas- “You will always haunt the back of my mind, the soft lips I will never taste again, the warm embrace I will never know again. It is better this way, I suppose…”

    Diana ‘Siilvae’- “With a mind as twisted as mine lord, she does miracles with a horrifying enthusiasm.”

    Lothario Korvand- “A fool bound by the rites of antiquity, with no sense for those beyond his own and his kin’s wellbeing.”

    Lazarus Masters- “I wish we could have fixed things, old friend...”

    Blake Evetion- “I’m so sorry, I wish I could atone, but the horror of my own actions burns bright even still.”

    Avaline Blankscreen- “Naive and foolish, unable to grasp her situation”

    Flareglow Blankscreen- “A misguided man, with good intentions.

    Wotan- “Pretentious, but rightfully so.”

    Usec- “Burn her, splay her corpse on a pike and light it aflame. This demon does not deserve life.”

    ‘Doug’- “They lack spirit and drive, following orders blindly. I will find use for them.”

    Mir Killfucker- “Insufferable depending on the topic at hand, but too valuable a resource to let slip.”

    Via- “Their efforts are greatly appreciated, and perhaps soon I will welcome them towards greater things.”

    Endy Klien- “Innocent, or so it would seem. Diana cares about her, and so shall I.”

    Nenkan- "Brash and brutish. He is up to something."

    Piper Williams- "This will be quite interesting."

    House Tran- “An ancient and prideful house, the backbone of which La’Megoth is mounted. Without it, there would be no civilization in this dark and savage world.”

    The Archon Collective- “Their motives are questionable, as is their methods. I have no reason to trust, nor distrust them.”

    New Dawn Confederacy and its Cohorts- “A messed up bunch, selfish and insane, each with their own agenda. At times I wished I had never met them, at others, I am grateful for the friends I've made.”

    The Undercrypt & Undying Army- “It’s a shame we couldn't save them, not only from our enemies but from the distasteful nature of the miscreants we brought there.

    Combat Information

    Fighting Style: Quick, calculated, and agile.
    Tactics and Abilities: Seeks to disable his opponents in as few moves as possible. Is aware of his physical weakness comparatively speaking to many opponents, and compensates by never making a move without preparing to make an alternative move should the initial one fail.
    Weapons of choice: His dual sickles. Is trained in fencing and traditional sword fighting, and thus can make use of most one handed melee weapons.
    Strengths: Speed, balance, and agility. Expert body modification. Psionic mastery. Dual wielding proficiency.
    Weaknesses: Small stature, not exceptionally strong, weak to concussive weaponry, weak to intense heat and fire, poor in open combat as he is a stealth build primarily. Cannot conduct psionics unless in contact with object of interest.

    • Combat Theme:
    • Voice Reference:
    • “Sevianthus” was the name of one of the Archmages in the 9th Council, known for his acts of humility.
    • Prior to “The Incident” Septimus’s hair was orange, though it did not change from loss of pigment but rather he changed it as an aesthetical choice to herald in a new era of his life.
    • I’ve been rping septimus and iterations of him for close to 9 years, a lot of this backstory was rped out in various regards over this time. Aww yeee.
    Comet League Stat card: coming soon, maybe.
    Last edited: Jul 25, 2020
  2. Dekerrex

    Dekerrex Aberrant Serpent Ex-Staff Gold Donator

    Jun 26, 2017
    Likes Received:
    Change log
    • 7/22/2020- Updated Relationships
    • 7/22/2020- Updated Equipment
    Last edited: Jul 22, 2020
  3. SilverGallium

    SilverGallium Observant, but Not Much Else Impervium Donator

    Jun 27, 2017
    Likes Received:
    septimus is trans??? wow