ACRELES SALATHIEL
Divine Violence
Name // Acreles salathiel
Age // 98
Height // 6'2"
Weight // 225lbs
Alignment // Neutral Evil
Location // ul'dah
Clan // rava
Profession // this and that
Appearance
Acreles carries himself like a man burdened by war, with shoulders squared and jaw set. More often than not, he wears an expression of perpetual fatigue and disinterest, sallow eyes taking in his surroundings with little to no curiosity.His complexion is inherently tan, although it retains a certain ashen quality indicative of sleepless nights and the poor maintenance of his mental-wellbeing. He bears no freckles nor distinguishing birthmarks, save for the dark hue smeared across the lower portion of his nose. And tall, smooth ears, matching the color of his hair, stand out atop his skull, expressive in nature and embellished with a variety of silver earrings.With regards to his figure, Acreles is muscular in nature, though not excessively so. His body bears scars from past conflicts, including a smattering of small, shallow marks that pepper the left portion of his chest. Most notable, however, is a particularly gruesome scar that mars his right hip, traveling well below his waistline and down along a portion of his outer thigh.
Personality
Acreles is little more than the manifestation of resentment itself; that, coupled with an apathy for everything outside of his own self-interests has made for a particularly virulent man. Rarely does he concern himself with the ongoings of others. But if he does, it can be guaranteed that he harbors an underlying intention. There’s hardly an instance where Acreles will offer his aid without reward, and as he believes honor to be an archaic concept, he’ll most assuredly slip a blade in your back if it means he lives another day. He is a man shaped by hardship, one who has long since abandoned the notion that the world can offer anything without first taking something from him in return.He’s a reticent creature, seldom sharing his true thoughts or intents with others, and he has absolutely no desire to form lasting, well-meaning relationships with others unless they’re an avenue to greener pastures. Trust, to him, is a currency best hoarded and one rarely spent. And his loyalty is as unlikely as it is fleeting.
BREATHE, DARLING...
Born in the Golmore jungle, Acreles was originally known as Elias Rehw-Gilda. He’d undergone the typical upbringing of a Rava Viera, having been taken from his village once his sex became apparent so as to learn how to defend their forest, as is the culture. Although, from an early age he would display signs of obsession that ventured far beyond passion. Once something of interest crossed his path, he’d find himself wholly consumed in pursuing it. After being subjected to the solitary nature that was the Rava male life, Acreles found that his first subject of intrigue was born of a narrow mindset that revolved around preset ideals: the defense of the forest. He’d spend decades honing his prowess with sword and shield, indulging in the satisfaction he’d siphon from successfully warding off evil, be it invaders or malevolent spirits. However, eventually, he’d find himself plateaued in progress. Day to day training would no longer hold the appeal it once had. And he’d open himself to a new vice, botanical in nature.It’d begin with native flora that induced a hazy mind, Acreles casually inhaling its smoke in an attempt to slow his thoughts and ease anxieties that he hadn’t come to recognize. Eventually, his usage would escalate into anything and everything he could harvest from the forest that would muddle his thoughts and dampen his senses. Infrequent use would morph to moderate before, ultimately, these substances became a day to day occurrence. His ability to defend Golmore forest would be directly impacted as one day, when the Garleans invaded, his hindered state led to the death of one his people. Subsequent to this, his addiction would no longer be tolerated. He’d be forcibly driven from his homeland, effectively breaking the Green Oath.Thrust into an entirely new world, Acreles was forced into a brief stint of sobriety as he learned to survive and navigate the Eorzea that lay outside of the confines of the forest. Resentment, confusion, and fear would harden him, manifesting a proclivity for physical violence and aggressive outbursts. Eventually, once he’d gathered a foundation beneath him, he’d find himself venturing to the undercity of Ul’dah. It was there that Acreles fell easily into the wrong crowd, who’d use his violent tendencies and unresolved anger for their gain. Now, not only did he abuse substances once again, but he’d find himself dealing them, when he wasn’t being asked to strongarm others. There is no telling where this path will take Acreles, but the chances of it leaving him dead in a nameless alley are more likely than not.
HOOKS
| antagonistic | drug peddler | soldier of fortune | all things botanical |
| looking for a rival? well, look no further. acreles is perfectly suited to be the mouse to your cat if your character is of a noble inclination or even remotely moral. or he could serve as a persistent thorn in your character's side. | if your character suffers from sleepless nights or yearns for an escape from reality, acreles has wares. find him in a dark alleyway and he'll find a remedy for your ailment. | if there is a need for hired security, if someone has wronged your character and you'd like for them to be thoroughly manhandled or harmed, acreles will offer his services without thought for morality. for gil, of course. | given his background, acreles has a natural inclination toward all manner of flora. if your character is well-versed in herbs or the like, it's a particular interest of his that could get him yapping. |
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a bit about me: i've been roleplaying for 10+ years now, but am still in the process of learning FFXIV lore and what not, so bear with me. and while my character is quite awful, i myself am not. feel free to reach out!please note that this character is intended to be an antagonist by nature, he's not meant to be friendly in any way. so when i write for him, i'm lookin' for trouble. and, as always, OOC ≠ IC.
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