Voltax

Voltax Yahzloth

Male Drow...?

Player: Mezzy

General Information
Full Name:	Voltax
Nicknames:	Creepy guy
Age:	Unknown
Deity:	Unknown
Alignment:	LG LN LE NG TN NE CG CN CE
Occupation:	Secretive
Faction/Rank:	Dustman Factotum
Place of Birth:	Unknown
Physical Attributes
Height:	5'4
Weight:	Heavy
Eyes:	Hollow sockets which at times burns with a sickening green flame
Hair:	What is left is White
Complexion:	Bones and metal twisted about his body
Physical Build:	Eh..
Physical Features:	Armed with skulls and bones
Skills
It is not unheard of that this beeing travels with the dead, which he claims to have created, and by mere looks those creations look powerful, and dead. It is a known fact that Voltax is a grafter, and it is well known he will aid a sod who have lost a limb by grafting something new and improved, and for the simple cost of ones body when it has no more use for the host. His martial skills with the vile scythe of unknown origin is impressive, to say the least. Perhaps a useful profession when he seek to collect exotic bones of all sorts for whatever it is he does with them.
Equipment and Items
Scythe & fullplate. Pouches & components. Skulls & a negative energy orb. Books & candels.

"As he sat upon those dank old stairs, where he met me who wasn’t there, With cold dead eyes and a toothy grin, He held my hand as thou light grew dim, I whispered in his ear and took his pain, And made a deal as it began to rain, His soul to take he did offer me, But instead I sat him a top my knee, and I said: you will live forever for what you have done, and strive to be the man you should become, You will not die today nor tomorrow, for your punishment alone is your endless sorrow, immortal you will be till the day i say, and until then you shall take a deep breath, and remember my name. for I am Death"

The skeletons in the closet/The Dark

• It was spoken of a dying drow so wicked and so cold that he bargain a deal with a Lord so cruel and so bold to continue his work so dusty and at such never told. Now one can't recognize the drow from the dead. Wrapped up inside an armor so dread.
• He is a Pale Master. A master of death who has transformed into something partly mummified and partly bones with all the powers of an undead, it's said. That one sure look like a deader. That's for sure.
• The thing loves the dead. The dead body and the dead mind.
• He is a Dustman so that what seems to be emotions are they really such? Or are they just a play? Speculations go away, but do return an other day.
• The Hivers speak his name in kindness. One who work so endlessly. So deathlessly. So tiressly. Repair a broken limb he do and change the old leg for something new. After you have signed the scroll only in death you shall pay your toll. What a gread bargain that unfolds.
• At times he is here. Like our mortal souls trapped in this Cage called home. Other times he's not. Other times he is out saving our mortal souls from premature endings at endless battlefields. Using what is old to take our place, untill the day we pay with what has been fortold.
• He have a humor, it's said. One that changes the view of what he does, it's said. A voice for what is never spoken, it's said. A theatrical display, it's said. For does the forsaken ones even have such? Many questions arrise, they say.
• Often seen carrying all kinds of bones, but mostly hidden inside those magical bags. He is kind enough to try keep the children from crying. Which also teaches them the philosophy of the daeth and a path free of decaying. Word has it the young who seek a meaning are now found sitting in small groups reading.

At First Glance

A small beeing, as is mostly the common looking male drow. However, for a drow this one's pretty pale, even sickly pale so. He looks grey-ish, almost like a darker shaded albino. His eyes are a strange shade of sickly, or even deathly yellow, which seem to have seen better days. His face is elderly, even for a drow, which makes you question how old this one really is.

He wear old dusty clothings as well as a hat with a barely intact feather stuck into a molded leather binding. It's a n odd, yet classy look, especialy for the Dead. At times it nearly looks like his attire is about to disintigrate on the spot as dust falls from it, and flying around his person is always a few moths, or nightswarmers, or scarttered around his person.

He often holds a book in hand. A dusty old tome which he seem to scribble down all kinds of nonsense into. If not the book then a skull holding acandle atop is held, and even more often a crystal ball looking item, however it radiates negative energy as if it was the Plane it self he held there.

Into The Deep

One can say many things about those you meet, but never do one seem to realize that the past of one is very similar to the other. Here is one whos past you must turn up side down to be able to find your self familiar to what is told. Or else your latest supper might be what turned up side down as this was told.

Kiaransalee was his past and amongst the other drows he was born into a world filled only necromancy and death. His mother a priestess of such who later became undead. A lich so cruel and divine that a mothers love is a word never heard of. Compassion and love were traits of the unknown. So what this young drow grew up with was not really of what is known. A male he was too and as such what was he to find? His path was wicked and rather unknind, but such only makes a man out of a child. Living amongst the dead, the perverted sexualities, the perverted rituals, and just a realy evil and perverted race, only made Voltax into the man he is today. A perception so twisted and wrong that even his own organs he hate and wish to be gone. Such is but a sickness and weakness that hamper your steps, but in reality it was just the exposture of constant negative energy at work. Though for the wicked and evil such was blasphemy to say or admit. Such is the power of belief.

Chant on the Street

Feel free to post what ever your heart desire here about Voltax

• Came to a masquerade party dressed up in a pure white bunny costume

• Helped with a strange ritual outside the Mourtary, where he guided a Celestial beeing to his True Death. After the Celestial beeing rised as a dead. It left much speculations, both within the Faction, as well amongst those who came to witness this miracle.

• It's mentioned he knows how to deal with the Slaad problem, but most refuse to listen to reson and calmer approuches, like the Guardians, and the Godsmen who seem to think violent acts and chaos is the key to deal with a Black Slaad. It's said that this particular dead "rolls his eyes" to such.