Arasmus is a Magister, and holds every Grimoire that is currently available--therefore his max Grimoire level is Grimoire Epsilon.
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"One day, the world will worship me."
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Blutsauger
132 Yrs
Impoverished
Single
Left Hand
Walking Staff
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Vee
Sept 23, 2018 12:49:37 GMT -5
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Jul 15, 2018 15:43:44 GMT -5
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Post by Arasmus Nyler on Jul 19, 2018 19:37:13 GMT -5
Arasmus hated going to the tent city, or the shanties... But he had a duty to try to provide for his people. And if the best he could do was bring the food, the clean clothes, everything on his own... He would. Usually he offered a way out. Some accepted, while others did not. He could not force someone to take his help and use it, but he could definitely offer. Repeatedly. The people with the least were the worst off, the most unhappy, in his opinion. His compound provided safety, warmth, a family of great strength... He closed his eyes and sighed, wondering what his sweet, sweet Eloise St. Germaine was doing back in her cell. He had had her for a month, and she had kept him on his toes... Always trying to escape. Always trying to get answers out of his children. He scoffed softly, and settled into a slow pace, waving to men, women and children as he passed. He made no move to hide who he was, mainly because he knew he could get away if he needed too. His people were the ones he worried over, though. He stopped be a tent, to speak to a young mother, murmuring, "One day, I'll change the world for us. How is your little girl?" Upon being told that the little girl had died due to illness, he hugged the woman, uncaring of his clothing getting dirty, and gave his condolences. "There is always a place for you with us, Zera." She had refused, repeatedly, over the years. He had watched her daughter, Efasi, grow up in such poor conditions--it had hurt his heart; though Arasmus was known to be have a soft spot in his heart for children.
This time, she accepted. "Help me hand out supplies, Zera, and then we'll go--taking anyone else with us." The two of them would resume his task, doubled the effort, though. He was on alert; he was often approached by people with offers--things to sale, wishes to join the Left Hand... It was why he came to the tents and the shanties. To help, but also to recruit.
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The steampunk Bruce Wayne.
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Cyborgs
Seventy-Five Yrs
Single
Aristocrat
Crossbow
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Eloell
Sept 14, 2018 10:11:28 GMT -5
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Jul 16, 2018 15:45:04 GMT -5
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Post by Kit von Liechtenstein on Jul 27, 2018 13:25:11 GMT -5
Kit sat on a sizable stone on the side of the muddy path in the shanties with both eyes trained on Arasmus Nyler. He'd donned his most worn and bland clothes, putting him in brown pants, black boots, and a large grey coat that covered all of his upper body and legs; the clothes and shoes were still extremely nice compared to the rags of those around him, but at least he blended in with the general dark and gloomy aura of this side of the city. His hair and his face set him apart--he was clean and groomed--but he hunkered down and moved his shifty eyes, pretending not to notice the questioning gazes of the poor folk who passed. The poor magical folk. They were kind enough to let him think he was one with the scenery. The Magic Hunter wasn't here to dispose of any of those peering his way; not today. Today he was here for the fellow hugging and speaking to the woman, the fellow handing out supplies like some kind of god. Philanthropists, especially those who gave to magicians, were the worst sort of people from where Kit sat (on his stone). They were enablers. This man was not only a philanthropist, but a magic user himself. Kit felt chills crawl up his spine and raise the hair on the back of his neck. He hated magicians. Today, however, he was pretending to love them. Kit inhaled deeply, steeling his apprehensions, and then rose and crossed the dirty street to approach the Blutsauger. "Excuse me, Arasmus Nyler?" Kit would not reach out a hand to shake, unconsciously letting his prejudiced mind keep him from wanting skin on skin contact with the magic user. He smiled uncomfortably, shot a glance at the woman, and proceeded, "I'm Kit von Liechtenstein. Might I have a private word?"
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Arasmus is a Magister, and holds every Grimoire that is currently available--therefore his max Grimoire level is Grimoire Epsilon.
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"One day, the world will worship me."
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Blutsauger
132 Yrs
Impoverished
Single
Left Hand
Walking Staff
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Vee
Sept 23, 2018 12:49:37 GMT -5
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Jul 15, 2018 15:43:44 GMT -5
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Post by Arasmus Nyler on Aug 5, 2018 11:28:39 GMT -5
Arasmus heard his name, and turned to face the owner of the voice. He offered a smile. The man was clean, shaven, if he was a magic user the Nylers did not know him or his kin. The man's gloved hands handed off his items to the woman, and he spoke gently, "Finish handing everything out, please. If we run out, let me know." He'd send her on her way, dark hues settling back onto the stranger.
"You know me, and you don't belong here. Who are you?" He arched a brow. It wasn't hard to try to think how the man knew him; many did. Wanted posters were no doubt strewn about the town. He and his brother were the threat the Crown feared, and they held something dear the King wanted.
Eloise. The name given did not bring any memories or strike an opinion, and the mage pursed his lips. "So, Kit von Liechtenstein, how may I help you? Or how may you help me?" He arched a brow. He always expected something. Nobody approached him so blatantly to try and hurt him, and certainly no one who didn't even bother blending in with the people he was among.
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