Xaedrukai Tircythrael

Xaedrukai Tircythrael is an Astral Elf Warlock, and a main member of the Voyage to Elysium adventuring party. He is played by 'Grim.

Xaedrukai is firstborn scion to House Tircythrael of the Astral Imperium, and as such, a member of the Imperial Nobility. He is half-brother to Ruaidhri, and together the two are the sons of Scyntilla Tircythrael, a legendary swordswoman and commander. Xaedrukai’s father is Caledor Tircythrael, Novarchus Prefect of the Imperial Armada and a direct advisor to The Emperor Parhylion Xaryx.

Born into greatness, Xaedrukai is a charming and cunning man, with a ruthless, if taunting composure in battle. His time in the Black Tower of Ar-Pharezon taught him of dark magick and darker wills, of torture and cruelty, of the cold and unflinching calculus of power. Yet, Xaedrukai is no brooding shade. His skill with the paintbrush matches his silver tongue; he carries with him a timeless elegance, and the sweet smell of cardamom.

Following his first deployment to the front lines of combat and the death of his mother, Xaedrukai was given a task by the Emperor himself: travel to Summastris, and uncover the shaded truth behind the plot that brought Scyntilla to her demise.

Description

Appearance

Xaedrukai is pale-skinned and black of hair, with the black sclera and gold pupils signature of his people. He is of medium build - lithe, but trained and agile. He is often seen wearing the black and purple battle dress of the Ecliptic Guard, a legion of Xaryxine soldiers trained in the Way of the Nadir.

Abilities

As a Hexblade, Xaedrukai weaves together the dark magicks of Elder Evils and the fluid, practiced arts of Xaryxine martial combat. Wielding a glaive, Xaedrukai prefers to keep the enemy at bay, engaging when he can press an advantage. Strategically, Xaedrukai attempts to distract, confuse, and frighten enemies into poor positions before using his Starlight Step to reposition and press the attack. Defensive tactics include using Armor of Agathys and False Life to sustain damage. He is also known to be somewhat vainglorious, taking risks for the chance to defeat high-profile foes.

Lore

Xaedrukai is the prodigal son and heir to the Noble House Tircythrael of the Xaryx Imperium. Once, long ago, the arranged union of the esteemed Caledor Tircythrael and famed Scyntilla Novemetis brought together two powerful martial families. Their union was a loveless affair and a matter of duty. A hundred or so years would pass before alas being consummated successfully, as a purplish-blue glimmer coalesced amidst the Court of Stars.

Being an only child, Xaedrukai relished the full attention of his family and their consorts. With a golden spoon in his mouth, he enjoyed all the finest tutors, servants, and privileges the Astral Imperium could offer. Most of all Scyntilla as a swordmaster, and Yvelran as craftsman. His father was often preoccupied with matters of state. Xaedrukai gravitated naturally towards the arts, and had a penchant for painting. Studying directly from a few of the old masters. That is, until he came of age, as Caledor unveiled his arrangements for the rest of his son’s life.

He was to follow in his father’s footsteps; first by enrolling at the Black Tower of Ar-Pharazon; the premier military academy of the time and one of the prestigious Thirteen Towers of Learning. There he would learn to command the baleful Ebon sorceries, along with myriad skills of conquest, subterfuge and war which would equip him for assured success.

After graduation, Xaedrukai was to serve in a Tircythrael regiment and gain firsthand experience for several hundred years. Should he be able to distinguish himself in service, there would be a strong possibility he may be called to serve His Radiance the Emperor Xaryx himself as one of his personal bodyguards; the Ur-Zenaar.

Hesitant, our young heir was conflicted. Part of him wished to devote himself to the arts for millenia, and the other half wished to earn the respect of his venerable father and their people. Caledor forewarned him not to squander the immense resources and opportunities before him by pouring his life into ‘lesser’ pursuits, and spoke the verse at top. Obeying his father’s wishes, Xaedrukai vowed to be equally proficient with blade, brush, and spell. He was told, after all, it was the best way to honor both the House and the Imperium.

In the days before he was scheduled to leave for Ar-Pharazon, a commotion wracked Tircythrael’s core. Scyntilla was revealed to carry a bastard spawn, yet was adamant to keep it. Initially Caledor, beside himself with disgrace, venomously denounced his wife in the presence of his son until settling into a cold apathy. The sight of seething spite imprinted a smoldering scorn in Xaedrukai’s malleable mind and he refused to converse with his mother.

With a tense and unseen rift now splitting the Household, Xaedrukai was eager to depart for the academy and hastened his preparations. After a journey across the Astral Sea, he at last stood before the stormy gates of Ar-Pharazon. A massive spire of finely hewn dark slate rising defiantly towards perpetually black-clouded skies. The portcullis raised, ushering.

When all the first year students had gathered, the Tower Master addressed them. Xaedrukai recognized him as an old friend of Caledor, mentioned in some of his old battle stories. All were immediately divided and distributed into competing factions vying for power and control. Objective points were kept track and available to all by means of magic. Their collective efforts played into an overarching campaign simulation, showing them there is always a greater scheme at play. From henceforth till graduation, they would be called Aspirants.

Aspirant Xaedrukai was assigned to the Stag-Helms, based upon the revered white mountain Cervus of Xaryxian mythos. Their bitter rivals were the Star Moths, a wildspace creature known for its luminescence which the Imperium often used as transports. Any failure would punish the collective. Success was bittersweet and temporary, though yielded privilege. Learning and honing one’s practice became an arms race in the Black Tower. In this ruthless field; the heir of Tircythrael forged bonds with brothers, and fostered hatred for the enemy.

In spite of the high rate of dropout, Xaedrukai remained, and true to Caledor’s word he accrued a slew of skills. He learned how to ruthlessly dispatch an opponent with any blade. He learned how to bend black-warp lightning to his will. He learned of warfare and tactics across the ages. How to lie, cheat, steal, and manipulate without being caught. How to protect, covet and nourish. How to strike fear in a man’s heart. How to rally broken spirits. How to salvage failure. How to conquer.

Other than the rare missive from his busy father, Xaedrukai had little contact with the outer world during those years. Those envelopes from his mother, he simply held over the candle, observing with flurries of emotion. Over time, the frequency of their arrival lessened, and eventually he could watch the whole envelope burn without feeling anything.

One such year however, the Stag-Helms emerged doubly victorious, no doubt in part due to Xaedrukai’s keen efforts. His time at Ar-Pharazon had made him efficient, cruel and calculating. A select few were awarded a week of leave to do with as they pleased, the son of Tircythrael among them. He wished to visit home for a brief respite, as it had been years of brutal non stop training.

Returning home to the Tircythrael manor-fortress, Xaedrukai’s timing was auspicious. With a sly smirk, he greeted his mother and gave her a kiss on the cheek. It was a surprise to him to hear that she had been trying to reach him all this time. Regardless, it seems his bastard brother had come of age. It was time for the fledgeling to visit the Court of Stars. Father was absent, preoccupying himself with other matters.

It is said Xaedrukai once uttered a chuckle so sweet, it robbed the sugar from all the city’s pastries that day. Citizens bit into dry muffins, bitter cakes, and vitriolic pastelillos. For when he learned no star had appeared for the boy, he could not contain his amusement. A throng had gathered with anticipation of the news, as the Tircythrael party hastily fled through the back of the building. Such was his first fleeting face to face encounter with Ruaidhri.

Returning to the academy with renewed vigor, Xaedrukai mastered all his courses over the coming decades. The Stag-Helms became a persistent war machine from his succor. Till alas, graduation was upon him. No more was he a mere Aspirant. He had been realized. Departing the Black Tower of Ar-Pharazon, with none other than a Star Moth as his steed, Xaedrukai, in all his arrogance, sailed forth to exact the Emperor’s bidding…