"Magic is supposed to be scary. Love is supposed to hurt. Ecstasy needs a little fear."

Once a lone Nycaloth, now a twisted and deranged Altraloth.

[Race] Altraloth
[Height] Tall
[Weight] Heavy
[Build] Lean, mean, and green
[Sex] Probably male

As of late, he carries a large sword on his back and a runed mask about the lower half of his face. His skin dark and tanned instead of its usual muted gray. His horns curving forward and outward instead of their usual upward, seeming to now be gilded in gold, or perhaps completely solid.

When all is right, he possesses a body of muted gray; form sculpted from his creators' desire and own imagination. Smooth, taught-drawn flesh unmarred by scars cover his form, each movement he made was displayed in the intricacies of musculature needed to set into motion such a body, only enhanced by the darkened flesh contrasting greatly with the crevasses and lines drawn by individual muscles.

He was nearly always seen garbed in a thick, heavy silk loincloth, smooth and cool to the touch, paired with soft linens, layered upon feathery layer to form a soft cushion to the fabric that covered his legs. His footwear varied on occasion, mostly manifesting through way of supple, leather sandals or intricately designed boots with striking accented colors.

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Cooked in a pot, simmered, and stewed. Sometimes he's an angel, others he's rude.
What goes up must come down, but when does a smile turn into a frown?

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