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About

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General

Cocky, blunt and self-assured. Daltheznadof loves to toy with others and make the acquaintance of those he meets. If not through words, he plays his flute or harp to break into someone's graces. A natural flirt by nature, he is reserved however should someone show an interest to something more than casual... though he not opposed, it is difficult to break that barrier.Daltheznadof is a bard and weaver by trade, working as a traveling sellsword to pay for his expenses when away from home in Ishgard. He enjoys company of others in travel, though is constantly alone from others.Reclusive when home, Dal is consistently surrounded by his work. Tapestries, shirts, dresses, scarves and a myriad of other designs he delights in. He is constant and exacting in his work to the point of spending hours to days awake on a single piece with no thoughts to his own being.

Quick facts

• Has a pet ferret named 'Sock.' (Is actually a weak voidsent inhabiting the body. Can speak and talks quite regularly.)

• Has a shade that manifests regularly around him. (The shade looks like his previous self, to those without the Echo however it looks like a shadow.)

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History

Under construction"Did you always make a habit of joining cults," Deryk asks with a small smile. He leans forward to give Daltheznadof the wine bottle.Taking the bottle with a laugh, Dal sits back against his log. The fire crackles between them. The heat pleasant. "No. No, this was a one time thing. I was young then. Very young. Perhaps 20 summers?"The taste of plum is pleasant on his tongue. His eyes find the sky."Ericas was from there originally. They called themselves the 'Silvnuaruin' or Brotherhood of Songs, if I translated that right. Accepted all types. I needed a place to go, they were welcoming and their pitch was enough to take my bones." Dal taps the wine bottle. "Little figure that would end up literal."Deryk leans on his knees. He listens intently. "What was their pitch?"Dal mulls over the question. What was it… "Ahh. I remember. Through the words we press on the soul, the chime of our strings, our song, our voice do we become so that all shall know the truth. A little superfluous now that I think about it. But it was enough.They taught instruments and the use of magics. There was a great deal of overlap, trying to weave the two. The magics were like that of the Conjury and Thaumaturgy here in the Source. More… aggressive though one could say.”“What made you seek them out?”“Estranged from the family. I was to marry a woman… what was her name. Anyway, I went through the motions of meeting her. The courtship to be expected. But then she was falling for me and I… was not for her so I called it off.” His thumb idly taps the wine bottle. “It would have been good for the family, but I didn’t want it.My mother threw me out. My sister was crying and wouldn’t speak to me. My father was away on business, adultery really. I learned of that much later from letters after their passing. But I was left alone without a gil to my name. I stayed with a friend for a while.Out drinking one night is when I met Ericas. Oh, the life that man exuded. I still remember the smells of fire, of lilies, of sandalwood. His eyes burned so bright. I felt as though I could look into the depths forever and ever listening to him go on and on. He drew me in more than the promise of a family, truth be told. It was the first time I’d felt so-” Dal sighs wistfully. “Enamored with another. I would follow him anywhere had he asked it of me that night.”“This Ericas meant alot to you.” Deryk smiles warmly at the fire.“Oh yes. He was everything. I joined Silvnuaruin that night and was initiated by the morning. I didn’t care what they truly wanted. I had found something to follow, even if it ended up a lie. And it was, but I don’t regret those years for all they brought me. I learned the harp, the pipe. Flutes of all kinds. The aether flowed so heavily there between those songs that you could get drunk on it. And between all of it, Ericas was there gently guiding me, hand ever close by.I reached for it often. He freely gave it. We got closer as the years passed. I had risen within their little system. Nearly a decade and I was no closer to paying heed to their true intent. I should have. The dark things they did. Evil, torturous beings the lot of them were for experimenting on strangers even more on those that were their brothers and sisters as was said. I walked so willingly into that sacred room at Ericas behest.I was to join this ritual they intended. It was a true test. Meant to bring an end to age itself they said. It did, in a way. Certainly in a way.Ericas held my hand as I lay on the altar. It was cold stone. Candles burned all around. Incenses and aether swirled thick in the air. It was hard to breathe. Nearly all the Silvnuaruin were there too. Ericas let go of my hand. As I lay there watching, he took a dagger. An ornate thing that glowed a deep purple.I was cast upon with healing magic from each side. Ericas was crying, he was smiling and told me to ‘Just breathe, love.’ There was no air as that dagger slid through my chest.”Daltheznadof frowns to the stars. His hand moves to the center of his chest where the scar burns permanent, even here.“

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Gallery

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