Zarrick Kue' Salvion, history's most awkward hero

I’ll add the rest, later: it would take days to actually write his full bio. It would be over 10 pages long in reality.

Name: Zarrick Kue' Salvion (Translates into Leader of Salvation)
The wieght of Humanity's existance.

Age: 15, in this body anyway...

Race: Finality Crucifix-A being conceived near the dawn of humanity to suffer through endless lives. Zarrick continues to be reincarnated after death, thus allowing his Sacrima (Essence) To build to a substantial level. Zarrick has lived through histories many wars, genocides and natural disasters. He carries the weight of countless lives on his shoulders. This has created a deep, spiritual connection with all living beings around him. (Note that this does not make Zarrick insanely powerful from the start, but allows for great potential. Plus it makes his origins more artsy.) There's a more ellaborate background concerning this, but I don't wanna spoil it(This is all in my series Towia). Whenever Zarrick makes a deep connection with someone, he is overcome by visions of that individuals ancestors. An example of this is his contact with the spiritual leader Arla Mende:

-/-Mother Africa

Shifting shadows in the night, chanting in deep permeations that echoed off the innermost walls of the most foreign soul. Hands clapped together like colliding lovers singing rhythmic melodies of lost motherlands, a rhythm yet to have been beaten out of these iron spirits, forged on the scorching gaze of distant savannas. They spoke in ancient tongues that cooed with the gentle breath of their ancestors; words like ‘Home, Mother, Reunion, Hope’, all pronounced with rings of a gospel praise. These words were deemed so holy to them. It was, after all, their dream. The dream for the whimpering Child, the one Mother held in her strong arms, her mighty fingers scarred and bloody from gripping the ripe cotton plants. Flames cackled and singed with these shifters as they danced around the bonfire. In the crowd of song and kinship, there was a misty eyed girl, tears, streams of a generation’s despondency curving down her warm cheeks. A child, young with tightly braided hair brushing against tan flesh. Why was she crying, such a beautiful child? Why was she crying, as her mother poured cool waters from the well on the countless cuts from hard leather, so firmly and relentlessly lashing at her like a hungry asp in the brush? Why was she crying as her kin held up her slain brother’s body in mourning of his lost youth? Did she truly feel these things? Did her youthful soul and body sting when beaten and cut and bruised?
I shed my abhorence to uncover shimmering sympathy beneath this burned flesh, and wove my string of fate into the veil that enveloped my fallen brother. I dug through sin and unearthed redemption. Brandish the whip if you wish, my brother, I will never resort to hating thee.

Zarrick experianced this vision of Former african slaves after making contact with Arla, a descendent of this culture.

Sex: Male, though any masculinity he ever had hangs by a quivering thread.

Hair: Imagine three massive, spiky cowlicks sticking straight up adding about a foot to his height. White, a ghostly shade with faint black ripples tracing the edges of its bizarre shape. Shatters any comb it makes contact with!

Eyes: Big and childish, dark Blue with green splotches, conjuring up an image of a planet. A symbol of his sympathy for all life.

Weight: 170lbs. Scrawny for his height

Height: 6 ft.

Weapon: Mainly Incarna-Incarnations he composed from his essence, whether they be swords, Decoy dolls, or living organisms. He can create these in a split second, so improvised ones might appear that aren't mentioned here.


-Ekin, the Harvester:-A large and incredibly broad blade shaped like a silver weblo. It is marked with the word Sentinel. More functional as a shield then a sword, but Zarrick learns tricks to elongate his Sword to many times it's length or even send vines of metal flying out at his opponent. By communicating to the Sacrima in his Ekin, Zarrick can melt, bend or even separate the material. It tends to backfire in his early battles though.

-Spade:-The only thing of Zarrick's early arsenal that is alive. A bizarre, energetic and rather 'cute' little silver serpent with a body like elastic that hides in Zarrick's hair. Spade is Zarrick's constant companion, Capable of blowing huge purple bubbles that are able to withstand increasing levels of pressure. The sticky substance used to make these barriers can also be squirted on the enemy to delay and...well, disgust. When Zarrick improves his Incarna, Spade can change into a towering guardian Dragon of incredible speed, girth and endurence.

-The Quill:-Though still an amateur at it, Zarrick is learning how to Sketch different Sacrima-communicating runes in the air using his old advisor's Quill. These can have various effects, ranging from focusing large amounts of matter to one spot or altering air pressure.

-Note that his weapons are the Sword, the Spade, and the Pen. A deep symbol for his character.

-Blarg:-In one of Zarrick’s more desperate moments, a large, badly crafted ‘doll’ version of himself sprouted and burst forth from his skull. This bizzare decoy appeared and took the full force of a deadly weapon in place of the real Zarrick. The creature got it’s name from it’s frequent and obsurd moaning of BLAAAAARG. Blarg physically resembles a burlap sack on a stick rooted to either the ground or Zarrick’s skull. Sporting a wig of Zarrick’s strange hairstyle and his classic hoody, the doll sticks out it’s large, red tongue in a taunting gesture.

-Zed's Daggers:-Three aerodynamically customized Kunai that come back to the sheath like boomerangs when thrown. A gift from his best friend's father, and old doddering blacksmith who uses ancient crafting methods inherited from nomadic tribes of the central continent.

Armor: Venn Sha Sen:-A strange shield left to him by a young friend with a talent for Runic characters. It is a discus with a hollow center that rapidly spins and collects moisture to make barriers of dense water. As his ability to focus improves, he can make larger amounts of Water appear.

Strength: His potential variety and flexibility as a fighter. With Incarna, Zarrick can create anything from a gigantic slingshot that fires his Incarna Spade at this enemy to a living doll that will devour his enemy and send them to an alternate dimension. He can even materialize his Essence into wings, tails and claws, and with Spade's assistance, he will never be alone. He also possesses immense spiritual density, giving him great vitality and super-natural endurance and strength. In the beginning he'll be complaining a lot, but it'll take a while for anyone to completely defeat him. Defense is Z’s niche, his weapons are more useful as barriers and support then traditional tools of destruction.

Weaknesses: ADD. No, really, even the slightest thing will successfully distract this guy if he hasn't had his medication. More noticeably his distinct lack of real battle experience. Zarrick has phenomenal potential but lacks the Sacrima control to use his skills. Most of what I've described as his abilities are not on access in the start. A short temper and an easily strained, hormonal mind make his focus very lacking. In the beginning I suppose he's just gonna be insanely comical and complaining a lot. He can take a lot of damage, but he won't take it quietly. A flaring temper also makes it difficult to meditate, which is required in many of his most powerful abilities.

Skills/Magic: Incarna, which I've already explained very thoroughly. One thing I've yet to mention is the Soulgrasp. By using a massive amount of energy, Zarrick can transform his body into an ethereal entity and directly attack the essence of his enemy, breaking down the very fabric of their existence molecule by molecule. Though Soulgrasp is one of his killer moves, if he uses it and fails, he's usually screwed and forced to surrender. In this form he can absorb the enemy's essence and regenerate his own. Otherwise, he has growing talent with communicating with earth, stone and metal using Gol-Ghara, or Material Sacrima. Altering soil into flesh to mend his body is one of his early techniques.

Here are some more specific examples of skills(For the record his potential abilities are nigh endless, I don't have the patience to write it all down now, and I don’t wanna put the ‘approvers’ through his full list. ):

Tower Blade: Elongates sword to many times it's original length. By fusing his nerves to the Blade his is able to move, strech and bend the blade much like a limb. He can also melt down the particles of different object to fuse them into his blade and make it denser. He can even rip out the bones of his enemy and blend them with the blade.

Forgery Incarna: Fuses the very reality of his soul to the reality of his weapons. In moments of extreme emotional distress, his blades mutate their mollecular structure and become symbols entities of his current state. At a time when his dearest friend was on the brink of death, a casualty in a foolish war, his blade formed the shape of a dove holding a branch in it’s beak, a symbol of peace. When swore on his existance to bare the pains of his generation’s tragedy, his blade known as Enlacemas formed the shape of countless, many differently colored and shaped hands coming together in smooth embrace. More than just an artistic expression of his soul, each ‘shape’ has different capabilities: the Dove creates a massive ivory barrier from the cellular mass of Zarrick’s bone that seperates any two fighters from contact with one another. And the Enlacemas bends it metals into many hands that can carry allies out of harm’s path.

Etherwing: Expands Zarrick’s essence to such an extreme level that his Sacrima forms into great silvery wings of metallic substance, a tail or ethereal claws that phase through solid matter as though they were gas. These wings are fully capable of flight, and his tail is of the same rubbery texture as Spade’s body, thus it can stretch out and latch on to potential targets.


Appearance: Reasonably tall, but a rather towering guy, if you consider his hair. Zarrick has always had the pale complexion of a ghost, an almost otherworldly shade. His limbs can be like vines swinging in the wind, skinny and frail to the eyes, but in reality, strong as the trunk of the mightiest tree. He has a very youthful and expressive face with shimmering, ambitious eyes and a notoriously childish toothy grin. He easily shifts from undying optimism to unrelenting fury in his demeanor. He bears a necklace with the crest of his old empire, a serpent curved around a blade. Adorned stylishly with a hip-hopish hoody with various straps, pockets and a runic graffiti mark on the back over a wrinkled black tee shirt. A crest called the Sentine Sutra is marked on his back; a large tattooed black serpent that coils around a small planet, the ultimate symbol of protection. Whenever Zarrick sees someone suffering, the tattoo burns at varying degrees until he lessens their pain. His baggy, blood red pants are bizarre and I always have difficulty describing them. One pant leg ending just below the knee with a metal leg guard. The other pant leg is composed of many broad rims that spring into other rims all the way down to his oversized sneakers. Imagine the ankle of pants, only wider and sown many times into the fabric. Also wears a multifaceted leather belt that carries his three throwing knives. I’ll get his picture on here if I ever get a scanner.

Personality: Rambunctious, rebellious, and slightly idiotic. A youth who claims to be a right's activist in everyway, and is passionate for equality in his world, but exhibits strange prejudices and homophobia all to often. Raised as a noble, Zarrick rebels against his lineage and associates with the common folk. He once even incited a small rebellion against the local guards. Tends to be considered by all a zealot when it comes to justice, and is enraged by people suppressing others. Easily irritated in battle or just in conversation by anything that might even slightly insult his dwindling masculinity. Is especially irritated by foreign languages, always thinking every word is an insult directed at him. Keeps his surprisingly fluent performance poetry in secret, his artistic hobby would only further compromise his male pride. He only shares these rhymic stories with the near-legendary poet Haa-kein who resides on Roko Island of the coast of the Salvion Capital (Serpent’s Burrow). At his core, he is passionate about protecting all life, even the unworthy. Zarrick would likely never relent in a fight to protect someone, and commit to death even for a complete stranger. He is arrogant to his own strength, often breaking down visably sturdy structures with a single flail of his hand. Easily embarrassed and his mind overwhelmed by raging hormones, Zarrick is a slave to his pubescent awkwardness. Either way, he still makes a faithful and reliable protector, as well as a nice confidence booster. (Throughout the story, People frequently say ‘At least I’m not as bad as Zarrick.)

Biography:

Occupation: Head Guard for Neosha Taogaara (Formerly the prince of Salvia). A rising performance poet.
Social Standing: Humanist, Activist, Idealist
Legal Info:
Well known for the rescue operation to liberate captured Roko and Salvion inhabitants from Orgoth abductors. Recognized as the sole heir of the Salvion throne, but has become known as a traveling vigilante as has chosen a none-political path. He has made the future of the humanoid kingdoms of Planatar questionable.

Biological Irregularities:
-Extreme Sacrimalogical Density: Z’ possesses a far larger amount of Sacrima in his body than is considered natural. His Sacrima often ‘leaks out’ to form everything from weaponry to living organisms. In extreme moments of stress, desperation and emotion, symbolic entities are created from his essence. This is the reason for his talent with Incarna, as well as his abnormal endurance: He has a virtually endless supply of Sacrima.
-Half green and half blue eyes: Zarrick’s eyes form a unique pattern of blue with green splotches. Many say his eyes resemble a planet, which is a symbol of his presence being the equivalent of many worlds, lives, and beings in history.
-White hair: Visually ‘old’ hair, even in his youth. Symbol of the lives his spirit has lived through before. Zarrick is really an ancient entity that has lived through the tragedy of countless societies as well as individuals. His conjures up a ghostly image, as in the past incarnated.


Scene depicting Zarrick’s initial decision regarding his connection with the world.

-/-/-/-/-/-
Towia-Conception of Ideals
- ???

Prelude: Breaths of the Planet
-/-/-/-/-
-/-...it was not divine wrath that rend the world to shreds, nor some tragedy brought on by nature. It was the hateful ways of humans, and those equal to their merited 'intelligence'...-/-

Breathe.

A calm evening smiled on the weary-eyed youth. The northern tundra brushed its cool veil of foreign wind against his bare skin. He found an obscure smile on his pale face, lips curving into the crescent of a dark moon that brought images to his mind of the raising moons that circled this planet, like soaring vultures hungering for the dying planet to fall.

For.

Youth wondered if this was like a mother's kiss, the cooling whispers in the wind streaking across his cheek calming a racing heart. The wind enticed him open those eyes; eyes so weighted by the sights reflected in those glossy pools of vision. The wind pried at the vaults of his flesh, curtains lined with thin lashes that quivered with the mild gales. What point lay in sight if he could only bare witness to the next grim travesty and do nothing to end it.

Those.

"Help them, commit your body soul, and purity to the Great Cycle; become a river of blood in the veins of Towia. Preserve all life, take no life, and when you leave you're mortal domicile, return to the earth that bore you, nurtured you and gave the supreme right of life..."

Who.

The young one rested a gloved hand on his torso, sleek and strong as the mountain's glimmering edge, and felt the blood churn in his body like waves crashing against the craggy rocks of his homeland's coast. He had recited the words of the legendary Enk'e, the Mender of worlds. So long ago, it seemed, was that day when the stars rumbled and the skies shattered. The day when a planet was torn in two, and the first chapter of humanity's descent was writ in the burning landscape.

Can.

But by his elders' teachings, this child recalled those legends of grim truths. Message's of the old ones, the Keeper's, the Nirv, the Tie' Ken all depict the planet known as Tao being tore in two by great claws that gripped onto the planet and pulled it apart, then by some colossal horror thrust these worlds to the distant reaches of the Universe. But it was not divine wrath that rend the world to shreds, nor some tragedy brought on by nature. It was the hateful ways of humans, and those equal to their merited 'intelligence'. When the world was so struck by supreme Karma, one half of the celestial body was flung to the far edge of the dimension. Blessed by the gravitational force of Tao's core, the stone and soil of this remnant of the planet molded itself around the fiery core.

Not.

This chaotic reminder of humanity's transgression evolved over the painstaking course of countless years to become the land that sustains and protects us; Earth.

Breathe.

And the other half was forged by the mighty ancients into the Land of Fidelity, Towia were this boy resided and lived his tiny life, with all the other *Civil native to this colossal celestial globe levitating in silent mediation as a monk contemplating his faith...

...As the Planet breathed solemn breaths, the youth recalled grandeur tales of Enk'e, who swore his life to uphold the ideals of peace. He was as a beacon in the icy night sky that lay like a great ocean between the Sister Planets. A lantern that wove a bridge of stars to unite the planets' petty residents, to fight for the future so that the earth may not crumble beneath the next generation's feet. So that our children may live in a more ideal world, where they can make their own marks on society, and cherish this world like their very lives, for the planet is their lives in essence itself. Enk'e was the bringer of life to worlds were death governed our reality...

...As the boy recalled these stories engraved into his mind by words of the last generation, he cursed it all under the breathe of the earth. Cursed his lineage, their ways, cursed their inhumanity. Cursed the clans that enslaved any malleable foreigner, nomads who fled lands of even worse circumstances. Cursed the blood gagging sounds of public execution. Cursed the murder he had just witnessed. Cursed the genocide that so scared the person dearest to him. Youth cursed elder's brutality.

And in that screaming fit, teeth clenched like clashing blades and face twisted, the youth wiped the angry sweat from his brow, and blessed a humble ideal. Redemption.

A boy held a tender seed in his small hand; held it as though the very skies would fall and devour him if it should drop from his quivering palm. He clasped his hands together and curved them away from his pulsing heart-a cultural sign of sympathy. His mind strained to think of something audible to say, a commitment, as oath with the sustainer of life his ancestors deemed Towia. But his meager words, as poetic as they could be, would not graze the ears of the planet.


The youth cradled the seed in his hands, no longer unsteady as the bending limbs of wavering saplings in this cold biting wind. And Zarrick Kue' Salvion swore by the world that bore him to protect the ideal of life; protect all of this dying world.

-/-/-/-

Zarrick Kue’ Salvion was raised as a noble; the prince of Salvia-(a nation founded by ancient human pioneers to support the humans who migrated from earth to the planet Towia)-but he was soon to realize Lord Avon and Queen Esther were not his true kin. An outlandish-looking warrior abandoned the boy as an infant left 15 years ago before the Grand Gateways, curtly after a gigantic battle with the Orgoths, wretched incarnations of once civilized beings, who were mutated by spiritual imbalance born from rage, isolation, lust and fear. His best friend has always been the artistic and wise spiritualist Neosha, a girl his age born from an advanced subspecies of human known as the Tie' Ken. The Tie' Ken were the first humans to land on Towia, and were comprised of the planets multiple nations and cultures. It was considered their holy duty to protect the future generation from the genocide and hatred that consumed Earth long ago. However, the Tie' Ken were labeled Heretics and evil beings for their strange traditions, and were genocide by the Four United Nations of the Vicktoryan Council. Zarrick's Father, Avon, was a direct leader in the Tie' Ken holocaust. Zarrick has sworn to make up for the last generation's despicable ways, and travels with Neosha to unite the various cultures and species into harmony in these warring times. His self-deemed purpose in life is to lead the next generation to an age of redemption, acceptance and peace, as well as find his origins and to destroy the Orgoth's grip on the Civil cultures. He has forged a connection with various rebel groups and artists to usher in a new Renaissance, fueled by the poetic voice of Haa-Kein, a performance poet and hip-hop artist who weaves his experiances of the wars into his lyrics. With Zarrick’s assistance, Haa-kien sets up massive, artistically executed rebellions. Zarrick fights relentlessly for the rights of freedom, life, expression and peace. As unrealistic as his ambition may be, he has inspired idealism in the hearts of many.

Despite his talents, Z’ knows very little as to origin or limits of His Incarna, and is surprised to learn no one has heard of some one using the method for years. Zarrick also uses the Earth Shaker sword style of commanding, ground shifting attacks utilizing his surprising strength. He learned this from his adoptive father-Lord Avon, considering it his only real inheritance from an otherwise despicable father. With this skill, Z’ can blast huge chunks of rock or blades of air at opponents, as well as easily shatter weapons, bones and obstructions.

Zarrick is a violent humanist and wants equality in the corrupt world. Despite this, he can be arrogant and even prejudice at times because of his upper-class lifestyle. After an attack from the Orgoths, he-upon realizing he was adopted-accompanies Neosha and Scribe (Zarrick’s advisor) to save the priestess Arla from the Orgoth Process Facility. (A place where Orgoths torture and experiment on mortal creatures to create Or-Gharra, which sustains them). Arla was one of the Last of the Tie' Ken known to be alive, and in that sense was Neosha's only remaining kin. This journey, how ever, becomes far more involved than he had foreseen, and eventually influences the politics that will shape the next generation prosperity or demise. Zarrick searches for hints as to his origin along the way, and takes advantage of the opportunity to woo Neosha, a dream that often seems to have little hope.

To put it kindly, Zarrick is a…pure individual. He focuses on 2 or 3 things at a time and rarely is concerned with anything else, less it override his feeble mind, Neosha’s affection being his only real constant goal. Being passionate, he desperately fights the close-mindedness engraved on him as an aristocrat. Despite this, he still feels some prejudice towards some other species, sexualities, races, etc. Because of this he often lets some very inconsiderate comments slip. Zarrick has failed in studies, impressing his family and the kingdom, and feels responsible for Arla’s abduction. To this day, he pushes himself dangerously close to his limits with each new challenge to protect his allies. He is short-tempered, Foul-Mouthed, clownish, and dull-witted, getting him into pointless arguments with others at a constant rate. However, his true idealism and care for humanity outweighs his negativity. For the most part…Almost ashamed of it, Z’ keeps his unexpectedly fluent Poetry and writing from all but Ha-Kein, even Neosha (She largely being his inspiration). This writing reveals an astonishingly contemplative side of his personality. His closest friends have always been Scribe and Neosha, and despite their frivolous arguments, they seem dutifully sworn to protect each other. He has always considered Jazza, lead hunter of Roko Island a rival.

Adding other characters mentioned above later on.

If I said anymore, I'd be spoiling the book so...

Sorry it was so long, but this is actually a condensed version of his bio/history. Regarding the copyright below, this character is recognized as part of my upcoming book series Towia. This is just for safety purposes.

© Mark C. Stephens, 2007; all rights reserved. Any usage of characters, images and otherwise content of Towia and the name Towia without the direct approval of Mark C. Stephens is strictly prohibited.