Post by Zahhak Keves on Sept 14, 2013 16:18:03 GMT -5
Name: Zahhak Keves
Alias: Praetor
Class: Rogue
Race: Human
Age: 33
Occupation: Freelance Hunter
Residence: Lots and lots of tavern rooms.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Abilities
Twisted Succor [Passive] - The demonic spirit that inhabits Zahhak's body is not interested in seeing it's host pass easily and lose it's anchor to the mortal world. To that extent, as Zahhak loses vitality and willpower to resist Gerasene's influences his body is most overtaken by twisted tissue and unnatural flesh that provides additional protection from most blows, though such rampant corruption makes Zahhak all the more vulnerable to magical attacks.
Iniquitous Infusion - By willingly allowing Gerasene to manifest aspects of it's powers, Zahhak's bodily corruption becomes a potent weapon that grows from his arm to cover his blade in wicked spikes and spines of corrupt filth. For the next three seconds Zahhak can use the corruption to increase his damage and to drain the life from targets hit, restoring his own vitality in the same process. The draining aspect of the ability is somewhat limited however as Gerasene cannot fully manifest itself, allowing it to drain less and less vitality each blow. Once the ability fades the corruption recedes over the cooldown duration.
Cooldown: 20 seconds.
Sidewinder - Zahhak's dexterity and skill at close combat allow him to execute fast, whirling slashes around himself during fights to make effective, if shallow, attacks in a small circle around him. This can be just as dangerous for him as it is for others as such rapid movement leaves a significant lag in his reactions, making him unable to attack or move after performing it for 1 second.
Cooldown: 15 seconds.
Grasping Garrote - While Zahhak fights Gerasene tooth and nail, even he recognizes the power of the demon when in especially pitched fights. After allowing the demon to manifest itself in the form of corruption that coats the edge of his blade and leeches onto a foe, Zahhak must make three successive strikes on a foe within seconds to infuse them with his corruption. Once he has, the demon takes over and triggers a small surge of vine-like foulness that encases an opponent for one second, locking them in place and giving Zahhak time to escape or press his advantage. After the third strike and the infused corruption, the growth on the blade recedes as the technique cools down.
Cooldown: 20 seconds.
Praetorian - When Zahhak is at his most injured and vulnerable, Gerasene is able to intervene in dramatic ways in a desperate pitch to save his charge from harm. Multiple solid tendrils of corrupt filth and flesh pulse out from Zahhak's lower body and smash into the ground, creating a small crater and launching Zahhak from the engagement or danger, usually without aiming or intent. This sends Zahhak a good thirty feet away at most. This leaves Zahhak greatly rattled on landing for three seconds and defenseless until he regains his bearing.
Cooldown - 3 Minutes
Equipment
Rattler - A short, stout scimitar Zahhak favors for combat, Rattler is somewhat scratched and nicked from it's abuse at Zahhak's hands and is an unimpressive five and a half inches long from guard to tip of the blade, measuring a full six and a quarter inches long. The blade is itself around two inches wide at the widest, with a circular notch in the back of the blade near the handguard and just above that point is it's widest point, from there it narrows to the tip. It is found tucked into his belt when not in use.Relationships: Zahhak is a hunter of many things, from people to ruins and the objects of power therein; He has run across many of the same paths as the illustrious champions Ezreal and Miss Fortune, usually behind the trails they've blazed but sometimes he's gotten ahead of them, though not usually on things they're invested or interested in. He has so far avoided direct confrontations or conflicts with them and has not directly interacted with either, but this is mostly by deign of luck, as the day may come when one or the other conflict with his chosen hunt of the day.
While Zahhak is an unwilling host to Gerasene, it does not mean he does not possess the same connection to the senses of the demon that willing hosts do. He is on the fundamental level similar in possession style to Varus though much weaker and the champion, as well as any demonically corrupted host, is able to sense him and be sensed in kind.
He hides his corruption from everyone he can but some things go beyond simple clothing and make-up, as the inner battle between Gerasene and Zahhak's willpower is quite sensational and has it's own unique air. Spiritually adept and psychics, as well as skilled mages or healers, can easily tell what is going on if they take the time.
Description: Standing at an imposing 7'1 and willow thin at 120 pounds, Zahhak cultivates an air of distance that he does not part with at all. Dressed in thick cloth and wearing decorations and armoring of Ionia descent, Zahhak speaks with the thick accent of Zaunite descent that causes his voice to thicken and words to edge slightly.
What lays underneath the cloth is a verdant corruption that utterly overwhelms Zahhak's body; His skin is a dusky green color that mimics natural tones but is utterly inhuman and his arms are practically encased in layers of mottled tissue that visually resembles tree bark and is quite rough to the touch. Parts of his body darken into black and are much denser, while his chest has a single narrowed green eye forming in a fissure-like black crack in his skin that pain him greatly.
Biography
Born in the slums of Zaun to the lowest of the low and the most famished of the hungry, Zahhak was used to fighting for his meals before he could actually walk. Even among the four siblings and one decent parent between them he was always hungrier and more needy than the rest which did not end well most times, often finding himself on the end of fights and arguments that typically ended with him wandering the streets until dark. This might have sounded rough, but he always managed to find some way to eat on his own. At first this was begging, scraping together discarded foodstuffs or stealing from vendors; At he got older, this became outright banditry and theft that evolved into him being a local rough known for a strong swordarm and a quick eye. This became the climbing point which he used to escape Zaun, selling himself first as a mercenary for the endless little things Zaun could use a strong blade for and then with reputation in hand, hiring himself out as an everyman.Most often his jobs became the acquisition of the resources of some researcher's notes or the capture of an escaped experiment, but it paid well and Zahhak was good at it. Even worse, he was so good at it that he began to double deal and sell his employers out, finding that conflict bred better pay rates and often return business that had the clever man well on his way to a life outside of the city. That is, until he got too greedy for his own good and someone caught on. If Zahhak had been as smart as he thought he was he would have realized that being paid so much was the first sign, the second was that he was supposed to find a simple idol in a tomb and bring it back. Zaun wilderness or not, he was sure he could do it.
When the tomb turned out to be a freshly dug grave in the middle of the woods and a gang of cutthroats, Zahhak felt very dumb indeed. His employer stepped out of the tree line after the struggle was over and had kicked Zahhak into the empty grave while gloating merrily, but Zahhak was too beaten to care for much beyond hoping that they'd end him swiftly; The dirt piling on his legs did little to confirm his hopes. Then the voice broke in through his mind. What his employer did not know is that in digging the shallow little grave, he'd unearthed the remnants a ruined structure inches beneath the surface, where the wait was finally over.
Where Gerasene had been waiting for so long.
Ten seconds, a hundred seconds, a million seconds; Each had ticked by in endless succession as the demonic entity Gerasene had waited, bound to the glass phial that had survived the destruction of it's warden's home during a failed ritual. The summoner that had inadvertently allows the shard of otherwordly essence into Runeterra had realized the wicked serpentine creature was not of this world and had no place in it, but could do little to banish it during the greater ritual he was performing and had thus imprisoned him, meaning to do away with him. It was to the summoner's grave error that he did not realize he had unchained something greater in the process and when his home had been swept over by the cosmic energies and dark things he'd unleashed, all that remained was the glass phial and the little snake caught inside.
Too weak to even break free of his brittle prison, Gerasene had lain dormant as each second passed like a lifetime and even for a demon with little free will of it's own had driven him out of his mind, weakening him greatly and leaving him all but dead when Zahhak laid entombed above him. The rogue was nearly done for, the dirt piling above his head, and in that moment of desperation Gerasene could feel his soul screaming out for something, anything, to save him. Zahhak's call was answered by twisting voices in his head that seemed feeble, weak, yet just like Zahhak were desperate and when Zahhak finally understood the whispers he began to thrash in his crypt; Clawing at the ground, kicking and even biting mouthfuls of dirt out of the ground until the weakened roof finally gave way and sent the man crashing through onto the phial.
Zahhak was no mage and no great power, but Gerasene was a feeble creature who's only remaining strength was it's endless desire for freedom, for growth; Zahhak was to be at best a temporary source of nutrition, a guide to the world long enough to regain his strength. Launching himself into the weakened Rogue's flesh as soon as the vile broke, Gerasene dove right into his soul.
The pain was immediate. Zahhak had landed chest first on the vial and he felt something trickling down his chest, he knew he'd ended himself yet could not understand the sensations coming from what he was sure was a mortal wound. He felt cold, then pain, then his flesh began to rip and mottle before his eyes and finally the true weight of his 'injury' came to bear. Gerasene's time had come. Ripping into Zahhak's weary soul and body all at once he forced himself inside he began twisting the man's form to his whims. The demon was weak, however, and Zahhak finally understood what he'd done when he managed to free himself of his bindings loosened by his thrashing and found the mark in his from which his pain stemmed.
Truth dawned on him just in time however for his very being to rebel, his soul solidified just in time to push the essence of the creature to it's very borders. This struggle was no epic clash of wills and wits but a wounded brawl for dominance of Zahhak's spirit and strength. In the end, Zahhak managed to barely hold off the hungry demon and held it at bay long enough to climb free of the pit, standing on it's mouth to face his startled assailants.
Zahhak's body had been ripped by blackness and vile green until his blood flowed like ichor from wounds that seemed as if they had overgrown with swarms of living injury. The weary eye in his chest peered at them searchingly and when Zahhak fled into the night none were keen to press for him, his name stricken from their tongues from then on. Zahhak walked for what felt like days, collapsing where he could find shelter and waking to find new parts of himself molded by the corrupted flesh of his guest and yet try as Gerasene might even when he slept, Zahhak's will remained firm. He had always looked after himself, he had always earned and gained for himself and no demon, no creature, was going to take him for it's vehicle without earning the right.
No longer human and losing himself to the corruption hour by hour, Zahhak spent days locked in further struggles with Gerasene that left the already weak demon pushed down and boxed in, yet Zahhak was no longer but a shell of himself in vitality and energy. Stumbling into the first house he could find, Zahhak stole what he could from the horrified inhabitants before crawling into the night and encasing himself in thick cloth to hide what he'd become. Eventually Zahhak found his way to civilization proper and tried his best to resume his life while at the same time fighting with Gerasene for dominance. Each day has been a struggle, each night filled with dreams of crawling flesh and eyes staring at him from under his own hood that he no longer recognized.
Now Zahhak makes the best of his time, knowing Gerasene cannot be kept at bay forever and his time grows shorter with each victory the demon wins over his soul, no matter the circumstance and each time Zahhak has to treat with the creature to survive he loses a piece of himself he knows will never return. As for Gerasene, the demon is dissatisfied with his host's stubborn vitality and has instead turned it's attention to the world of Runeterra; It has begun empowering itself by siphoning off the life of the world through Zahhak. A blade of grass here, a flower there, the lingering essence of a dying tree, he has begun to grow stronger under Zahhak's tight reigns and both he and his host know that when Zahhak finally loses control, Gerasene will feasts.
