Solomonari:NERIO/Nalkans/Nojta
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Sukanta-Nojta
Summary:
| Full Name | Sukanta-Nojta |
| Alias | Little Sorcerer |
| Age | 118 (18 Pre Nerivia) |
| Species | Nalkan (Human) |
| Gender | Male, presents masculine. |
| Affiliation | Halkost (Artisan)
Kalmaktama Empire (Orin)
|
Bonuses:
| Strength | - Borrowed Strength (+1) |
| Dexterity | - Beyond Human (+1) |
| Constitution | - Leathery Dermis (+1) |
| Intelligence | - Brain Worm (-2) |
| Wisdom | - Forbidden Knowledge (+2) |
| Charisma | - Unsightly (-2) |
Appearance:
Standing at a broad 6 '2, Sukanta-Nojta resembles a human only by their silhouette, and even then just barely. Decades of mingling with bodies in an effort to create the perfect warrior, in mimicry of the Karcist’s personal Halkost. Alongside his pursuits in a field of his master’s direct invention, he has retooled the few successes to alter his own body. The first to go was his skin, replaced with a dark, leathery, jerky like material. Then his eyes, glowing a sickly fluorescent green hue, with a third sitting atop his forehead. Then came the armor, beautifully woven between layers and layers of flesh across his body. The bone armor covered his chest and belly, and fully embraced his back and spine. Gauntlets of bone, with only three fingers adorned his hands, as well as sabatons of fluted bone pointing downwards just below the ankle. The sabatons had three separate digits for his claw-like feet. His neck is supported by fluted bone plate, as well as to support a large, open faced helmet. The helmet protects his jaw, but leaves his face, eyes, and a considerable amount of his forehead visible. Flowing from the back of the head, two thick, large horns spread out from side to side as a part of the helmet covering Sukanta’s wingspan.
Where the weaving of armor leaves bare flesh exposed, pieces of robes dangle delicately from the underside of the bone armor. Softly woven and carefully embroidered with sigils of The Deathless, as well as a…Worm. Slithering its way around the segmented robes.
History:
Sukanta-Nojta was born into a relative period of stability under the Kalmaktama, as the last of the Daevites were being hunted and purged. As a child he was left orphaned, and while looked out for by his community, he had a hunger for more than just living, or fighting. He wanted to Know, he wanted to be like The Sorcerer King, His Progeny. To know the magic they did, to wield the power they did. And so when he had time he explored his little village. He’d walk aimlessly among the plains and hills in search of something, anything. Until he found a billow of smoke in the morning over a hill he’d explored every corner of. He crept up over the hill, and he found a man. A frail, old man sitting next to the fire, preparing breakfast. Sukanta had never seen strangers before, not outside of the village at least, so he felt obligated to introduce himself.
The Old Man quickly became his mentor, and he taught him the ways of flesh crafting. Carnomancy, and how to use it to prolong your life and others. And even bring some back. It wasn’t long before Sukanta began growing to be a young man, and as he grew so did his desire for knowledge. The surety of forever was only so invigorating to practice on himself, creating docile ravens of flesh and smaller, stupider, and chubbier versions of himself grew boring. Learning how to fight with his craft was fun for a time, but it never satiated his deep hunger. Until one day they moved to a city, to the Old Man's laboratory. The first thing Sukanta noticed was the sickly sweet smell of death. The fumes cleansed his nose and singed his eyes, as acid spurred up his throat to protect his enamel from what was coming. The mess wasn’t hard to clean, the floors of the Laboratory had seen worse than what Sukanta could have possibly eaten earlier that day. But now, he knew his desires for knowledge would be satiated. For a time.
In the rest of his time under The Old Man, he spent his days robbing graves. Avoiding town militias, hiding in sewers and scum just for the potential that another body would have what they’d need to progress their study, their school, all by their lonesome. Sukanta became proficient at dissecting people. He familiarized himself with anatomy he had never learned before now, proud to be on the forefront of knowing. But his Old Man had found something greater. A tomb he had bought off of an illicit caravan. The merchant he had purchased it from professed that it would teach one to raise the dead without the mindnumbing hand stitching strands of muscle fibers together. Sukanta was delighted to know more, blinded by his desire to know more, he begged his teacher to show him the book, and when he did he took it from his hands and gidley skipped through the table of contents and flipped to a random page.
The text emitted a green hue, reflecting in Sukanta's eyes, before overtaking their color. Before he had even recognized what he was doing, that he was doing anything, he was already chanting in a tongue he’d never known, raising his hand towards his mentor. By the time the book had gifted him his own freedom, his master was gone. All that remained was a worm. He crouched before it and picked it off the floor, gazing at it quizzically. Before it spurred wings and shot up his nose, and nested in his brain. It spoke; “And now our contract begins. You will feed me with knowledge, and I will grant you powers as mine grow. If I starve, we will both perish.”
And so Sukanta moved to the one thing he didn’t know. The world had grown unkind to the Kalmaktama, so he enlisted with the local Deathless Legion, and as fate would have it it would be Fekohar’s.
In the time of peace on a Nerivia untouched by the daevites, Sukanta hid what he was. And when the Daeva came, he began his transformation. Becoming less and less human as more and more bodies came in to practice his forbidden study, he enriched himself as well as his projects. His Halkost. By the time the wicked Daevite sorcery stripped Nerivia of all life, he had become unrecognizable. Alien. And so he continued his study as far away from prying eyes as possible. Lurking within the bowels of the Kiraak, reliant on his Second to bring him what he needs to continue The Work. In tandem with the guidance and wisdom of The Worm.
Song ;
Quasimorph OST - Sipe Gyalmo Rising (Olirna Phase 2)