Spiralling Lao

Name: Spiralling Lao Concept: Arrogant Demonologist Exalt: Lunar Caste: No-Moon Motivation: Successfully demand a service from a Yozi without any direct repercussion. Intimacies: His Solar Mate, Pursuit of Sorcery. Aya

Tell: Snow-white fur on his ears. Spirit Shape: Arctic Hare Virtue Flaw: Temperance (Drunken Monkey) Anima Power: Reduce the Cost of all Occult-based powers for the scene. Obscured by Shadows.

Description:

Spiralling Lao was formerly a courtier in a small, Northern kingdom, west of Whitewall. He was the son of a local noble, he lived amid luxury and education in the small, harsh castle-town, alternating between fruitful summers and harrowing winters. Lao lived in the castle proper with his father, his mother having died shortly after his birth.

Lao spent most of his idle time reading and discussing his contents with the other nobles. While a good debater, he was frustrated with the narrow interests of the court. In his boredom, he began to explore the castle library, and when he was done with that, he would interrogate servants and nobles to tell him more about the outside world. Feeling trapped, he began to take heavy interest in the private sections of the castle, often bribing or cajoling guards to allow him into private areas.

It was exploring the lowest recesses of the castle that he came across a strange study, which he learned of by chance and considerable social maneuvering. A hefty bribe acquired him the key, and it was in this dusty, unseen place that he found a strange book, sitting atop a pedestal. Curious, he opened to tome, glancing through its strange pages.

What he saw in those pages made little sense to him, but the looping designs and bizarre words filled him with a crazed sense of awe. It was so great that he barely heard the nobleman sneaking up behind him. He attempted to explain, and even to apologize, as the noble struck him with a strange object that seemed to hum.

When he awoke, he found himself in a freezing cart, surrounded by coughs and sobs. He could find no-one to answer his questions or demands, save for one young girl who seemed in less despair than the others. She told him that this was a guild slave-cart, travelling north to sell the occupants. When he told her his story, indignant and annoyed at the treatment, she responded that it didn’t matter. He surmised that he was sold secretly, and quickly realized that escape would be nearly impossible. His words wouldn’t save him here.

It was days later that the wagon stopped, amid a freezing snowstorm which forced the slaves to huddle together. The girl said her name was Aya, as she clung to Lao for warmth. Lao said nothing, as the wagon above was suddenly torn away.

Lao remembered little, save for being thrown free of the wagon and cast into the freezing snow. He called out his friend’s name, but it could not be heard above the roaring wind, panicked screams, and inhuman snarls. Unable to see or to hear, he ran about amid torn flesh and the growls that were too human…

As he dashed here and there, he felt himself move faster. He swore he could see a cloaked figure in the distance, walking amid the flurries, but as he ran to her, she seemed just out of reach. Eventually, he fled the maddening place, bounding over the dunes, never quite aware that he had become a white snow-hare.

He became aware of his change when he finally stopped to rest. He spent the next few weeks, running through the wilderness, eating, and trying to figure out just what he could do with his new-found abilities. He soon realized that someone was tracking him – a distant shape, either feline or human, which always seemed to shadow him. Curious, he tried numerous times to lure out his persuer, or to evade it; while he was never ultimately successful, he did manage to pick of hints of her nature. It was a whole week before she finally called out to him, approached him in human form. She introduced herself as Lady Frostreader, and explained much else to him.

Lao was inscribed into the No-Moon circle, after some debate, and took quickly to seeking lore. After learning all he could (or he was allowed) from Frostreader, including the beginnings of sorcery, he took to the trail, eager to find more intriguing knowledge and to find his dear friend Aya. He traveled tirelessly across the northern ice, looking for some sign of her passing.

After nearly a year of searching, he stopped to rest in a secluded crevasse amid the frozen tundra. What he found there was a series of crystalline caverns, glinting with many strange colours – and at the bottom, a stone-wrought catacomb, built like a bizarre temple. The Manse’s hearthstone lay waiting, which he claimed willingly.

However, as he rested amid the ice and snow, he thought of what he had done, his thoughts continued to stray back to his old home. No doubt his family would want him to return, and to stay with them; however, that would probably not be possible. He feared facing his parents, facing his old life, and trying to reconcile it. He feared what he would find, after he’d been gone and changes.

After days of resting and preparing, Lao made up his mind. Darting over the snow, he began to search for the way back to his castle-town. It was not difficult to find – but it had changed. Within the walls, the buildings were worn and boarded, and the streets scarce. In the form of an owl, he flew into the castle, finding the servants sickly, and the nobles depressed and decadent. He made his way, to his parents’ room, slipping through the crooked door.

His parents were asleep in their bed; his mother’s face seemed sadder, more dreary, and his father seemed pale and thin. In his spirit shape, he sat at the foot of their bed, watching them with black, soulful rabbit eyes. His father stirred awake, peering out over the sheets, catching a glimpse of the strange, white rabbit with silver markings through its fur, before it vanished. He glanced around, and in his waking confusion, called out his son’s name.

From the doorway, Lao stared blankly, waiting for his father to return to bed. Then he made his way downward, retracing old steps through the entire castle. When his trek was done, he came to the last door he had ever entered there, passing through into the ancient study. It was still there, upon its pedestal. Silently, he lifted the book, sliding it into his robes before departing, out of the castle and into the endless snows that were his home.

Lao usually dresses in simple dark-blue robes and cloaks, with a square hat of the same colour. His hair is black, his skin light. He wears his hair short, relying on bangs to help conceal his Tell – the soft, white fur on his ears. This is a source of embarrassment – Luna help he or she who plays with them frivolously.

Currently, Spiralling Lao (as his mentor named him), has traveled about, searching for new secrets and mystical understandings, bartering for relics and records. He has also learned the art of summoning demons, becoming fascinated by the Malfean structure. He has seen his mentor several times since, who has expressed concern at his new fascination; he has politely acknowledged her warnings, and maintained his careful studies. He still searches for Aya at every opportunity, as well. From his Manse, he continues his research.

Lately, though, Spiralling Lao has found his lifestyle suddenly shaken, by an unexpected and unwelcome discovery – his Solar Mate.