Lashul Durzasson
AlaskanBabayaga
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Profile
Lashul Durzasson
Name
Age
D.O.B
Gender
Species
Height
Weight
Marital STA
P.O.B
Citizenship
Occupation
Relatives
Theme
Age
D.O.B
Gender
Species
Height
Weight
Marital STA
P.O.B
Citizenship
Occupation
Relatives
Theme
Lashul Durzasson.
200 yrs.
Autumn.
Male.
Half elf/human.
5'11.
135 lbs.
Single.
Uru'baen, Alagasia.
UN.
Dragon Rider.
Durza (the Shade/father), Eles'lir (mother).
-
200 yrs.
Autumn.
Male.
Half elf/human.
5'11.
135 lbs.
Single.
Uru'baen, Alagasia.
UN.
Dragon Rider.
Durza (the Shade/father), Eles'lir (mother).
-
Physical Description
Thin athletic build, long dark red hair, various facial scars, one gold (iris) eye and one silver eye (blind), black claws on fingers, pale skin, scarring on hands and torso as well as legs from misuse of magic. Long pointed ears, thin bowed lips, straight pointed nose. Slightly slanted eyes. Alabaster skin.
Mental + Emotional
He's constantly battling with inner demons; literally and metaphorically. He is always at war with himself. He didn't choose to be born, and yet he's here. With all the thorns and brambles that come with being created through blind love and evil spirits. His heart is good, but it's encased in a shadowy thicket. He is certainly capable of terrible things.
Showing kindness, tenderness, and politness are very difficult. But overwhelming rage and passion, blistering jealousy, or cold and bitter callousness are all too easy to express.
Speech
Well spoken in common tongue and the Ancient Language, as well as the near forgotten language of the Enchanters; Enjasian; as well as the language of the Metal Hearts; Hèrlandic. He is said to have a voice that sounds like a will-o-wisp looks.
Powers
Though half human, he was raised by Elves and can speak and wield the Ancient Language better than any human or dwarf; his use of magic leans to the darker side, which he is more powerful in, and of which his knowledge is considerably more expansive. His dealings with the darker elements of magic have left him battered at times, and wiser at others. Within him, there are many shadowy faces that keep him company and provide him with power. And from his tongue, many unspeakable things have fallen. He knows more of how to use these than most of his teachers ever did.
Relationships
Oromis Thrandurin- mentor; though Oromis has known Lashul since he was a boy, the two have a rocky and somewhat distant relationship. Lashul's use of the darker magics is looked down upon and even forbidden. Yet Lashul still cares for and admires his elder, but views him as ignorant and unwilling to learn.
Onen Firsson- friend; one of the first real friends Lashul was ever able to make. The two stay in touch, but see each other only once in awhile. Perhaps every few months.
Spellcaster Carn- best friend; though they met fairly recently, Lashul quickly grew attached to the the Varden's spellcaster. He visits him every chance he gets.
History
Lashul was born in Uru'baen to Eles'lir, an elf having a love affair with a soon-to-be Shade. Eles'lir returned to Du Weldenvarden to raise him amongst elves. His father was Durza; later slain by Eragon Bromsson. Though Durza was an absent, abusive, and unwilling father, Lashul felt affection for him. When he died, Lashul was grown but very young for an elf, and began to practice the same arcane arts that his father had. Though for a long time, he had no success with it. And his mother mysteriously fell ill and died in the night; a strange tragedy to befall an elf as they do not get sick. Most elves who knew Lashul, blamed him for Eles'lir's sudden death, and Lashul thought no different. It felt a horrible but necessary burden to carry, and for some time more, he ceased to use magic all together. He was shunned by many, and the few who showed him kindness, he turned away. He felt he did not deserve it. Thus, began to resent it. Lashul did not involve himself in the politics of Alagasia even though he knew much about them, and even as war raged, he kept his distance from Galbatorix and his army's reach. He was always out of sight. not wishing to aid Eragon, the man-elf who killed his father. Whether Alagasia burned or not, all it's dragons were lost or not, he did not care. He found himself selfishly pursuing the art of dark magic once again. This time thinking there would be nothing to lose but his own life. Which meant little to him in the moment.
Trekking across the Hadarac desert to avoid the last of Galbatorix's forces elsewhere, Lashul met a wandering man, who seemed to be going in the opposite direction. Out of curiosity, Lashul asked the man why he was headed that direction. The man explained that he was headed home. Lashul laughed at the man for going through the desert with little to assist him, no horse, and no supplies. In turn the man asked why an elf were traveling the other way; Lashul explained that he was looking for a quiet place to settle, away from elves and man altogether. The man introduced himself as Onen Firsson: a name he recognized as a scout for the Varden whom they'd thought had died after betraying the Varden to Galbatorix for an unknown reason. Finding a strange kinship with the traitor, Lashul and Onen managed to find solace in each other's company, and Lashul hung around him for several months; learning of a cave system below the Hadarac desert where Onen was now leading a rising rebellion against, seemingly, all government powers. Lashul refused to be a part of it still, but remained welcome there by the Burning Banners. Onen and Lashul became very good friends, but darkness drew a divide between them, and Lashul had to leave the Hadarac to find an undisturbed and uninhabited place to practice his dark arts. He feared hurting his new found family.
Lashul dawned a mask, carved from a fallen tree, and protected by wards of a dark design, to hide himself from the eyes of powerful entities. With this mask, he could not be scryed; he ceased to appear in the metaphysical world of the spirits. It was here he discovered a feeling he had never experienced in his nearly 200 years of life. Something gnawed at him through the astral plane. It was not loneliness, nor agony, nor anger. But something longing.
He followed his instincts through a twisting red-wood, aflame with autumn. There in the crook of an old quaking aspen tree, a witch hazel bush showered dying yellow blossoms over a glistening crimson and golden stone. It glittered unlike anything. It was so bright in the noonday sun, it appeared like a mirage on the desert sands. Lashul knelt to touch the stone, mesmerized by its shine, and drawn in by the odd feeling that swelled in his chest; his hand burned, and the stone cracked. And out crawled a small, shimmering, squeaking dragon. A dragon egg lay emptied beneath the cover of forest. Lashul had been chosen. Suddenly, he understood the feeling was a desire, a craving, to find his other half. The dragon came to be named Rah, as it glimmered like the sun itself.
Lashul found new purpose, going on to discover much with Rah; the two learned many things together and on their own. He spent his last two years with Rah, before returning to Du Weldenvarden later on. But his practice of dark magic remains an ongoing pursuit for both dragon and rider.
Beliefs
He struggles to believe in Gods. He prefers to think that all beings are inherently weak and can be made stronger with magic, but that ultimately, magic is a futile escape from reality. He is torn between doing what others want of him, and doing what he thinks is right. He typically ends up following the path of self preservation because it is safest.
Daily Life
When not indulging in arcane arts, Lashul is quite fond of laying in patches of moss for a nap. He's also fond of fruit bats in particular, and plays with them in the fields outside Du Weldenvarden almost every evening. He loves the autumn air, it's colors, and the scent of season's change. But he also likes the summer; Rah's favorite season.
Trivia
Lashul has spent most of his life in complete isolation, far from human villages and far from politics. However, Rah's arrival has cured that longing to be alone, and he now wishes more than ever that he were one thing or the other. Being neither human nor elf, nor Shade. His reflection detests him. He prefers to think of himself as the boy his mother would have raised him as. An elf like anyone else in Ellesmera.
Though from his gross discomfort he has gained a couple friends, he wonders what more there could have been if he were anyone else's son.
"I race the sun to the edge of twilight, diving with the bats into the night."
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