Yoru

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Yoru is a mostly humanoid Ruler and Builder with some feline traits, and is currently the Lord Mayor of Avaricia. His passions lie in the care of his furry cats (to the point where felines have become an obsession) as well as brewing, cheesemaking, and jam making (jamming?) to indulge in the high pleasures of a newfound lifestyle.

His aspirations lie in the construction of a grand Cathedral where his Cult can properly pay homage to the Spirits as the fanatical High Prophet of the newly founded Cult of the Pure Realm. Furthermore, as the recently elected Lord Mayor of Avaricia, he has a duty both to his home which brought him in, and to the Empire of Ravenguard of which he is a prominent member, and aims to expand Avaricia into the sparkling jewel of the desert that it is, and shall prosper into.

Biography
Yoru was born into the world as Scelest Sanguinis, who was a part of the wealthy "Von Macabre" family, rulers of the County of Ash from their seat of Ashford, a mining town within the mountains. He was born an illegitimate child of the influential Baron, and as such the Baroness always looked at him with disdain. From birth, she knew he wasn't hers, and as such declared his name to mean "he is the sin of the blood" in their ancient tongue. Due to pressing from his wife, the Baron neglected him with melancholy, despite his best intentions, and he was soon expelled into the streets from their lush estate. Weeks went by, and he found himself begging desperately just to survive, to live a malnourished, unfulfilling existence. He managed to deceive the matron of the town orphanage to let him in with a fake letter and distressed pleas for help. Life in the orphanage was where he learnt how to read and write the language he was so accustomed to, and once he was deemed old enough, he realised with dread a lump in his throat, that the orphanage was in fact a covert slavery operation. He witnessed the Baroness filling the pockets of the matron with money as he was carted off to the mines, his face a war between his indignity and his broken will. The cold, lifeless mines were a change of scenery to him. Though the caves were purged of spirit or rebellion, the miners shared a mutual respect for each other. It taught him the lesson that, though people may come from all roots of life, they all have a story worth listening to before you form opinions of them. Through his time swinging his pickaxe into grey stones and the rare ore, he learnt the value of hard work. Every day he saw the weak and brittle be dragged out of the mines, feinted from dehydration or dead from fallen stalactites, and though he felt pity, it encouraged him to work for every aspect of his life, inch by inch, lest he be subjugated and forced to face what lay beyond life. Was it the afterlife? He didn't know, and was afraid to find out what the unknown void beyond his existence was. He found a family in his odd group of miners, forged from the frigid, forced fallacy of their unfortunate lives. The thought of the cruel Baroness getting the last laugh was unacceptable to him; he needed an escape. That night, as all the miners showered, he coated his bare skin in the obliterated dust of the broken stones, and against the cover of the walls, fled as if he were invisible. Back, back he went to Ashford, his head throbbing from the cold, his skin glowing red. It was then that he was discovered, frozen to the bone from hypothermia, by a simple village family of the peasantry, an elderly, kindred couple that took to his plight like moths to a flame; but instead of facing death like he dared think, they brought him to their house and sheltered him.

As he grew up, he began to experience unconditional warmth. They loved him as their own, like they would their own son, as for their entire lives they had tried and tried, yet their pregnancies never bore fruit. It was discovered that the woman was infertile, yet the husband had loved her too much to use a third-party donor. He never learnt their names, but they taught him everything a boy ought to know. He explored the woods, learned to shoot a bow and furnish furniture from wood. He learned how to wield an axe, to fell trees and the fundamentals of architecture and building. He was fascinated by the architecture of the world; it was otherworldly to him that one could form such lavish structures from the impurities of the earth. He became engrossed in the thought of the perfect building. When his adoptive father died, he finally heard his name. His adoptive mother soon fell ill, and he knew that he had to spend what little time he had left with her before she inevitably passed away. Those last days are a great source of melancholy for him, but he managed to remain resilient throughout. Left all alone in the world, he gave his parents a proper burial before leaving Ashford, his only regret that he was unable to end the regime of the corrupt Baroness and her puppet husband.

Scelest walked wistfully from his motherland, surviving off the odd street job that he did, drifting from town to town. He developed an irrational love for the heights, where he could feel the breath of nature whistling past him on his place at the peaks of the world. It was a far cry from the mines; he felt free and at home. He had dreams of becoming a great architect, but where to start? He had lived such a solitary life that he had no outside connections. He resolved to rent a room in an inn using the money he had been left, and begin creating designs. At first, his ideas were mediocre and uninspired, and as his desperation grew, his designs grew more and more frivolous, until abruptly he had a vision of a splendrous house made of pearlescent, glistening stones that were out of this world. He put it onto paper, and gained a large sum of a thousand gold coins for the design. Soon, he was struck by wave after wave of inspiration, from the tallest skyscrapers to the most ornamented palaces. He became an icon in the architectural world, at such a young age.

It was around the age of 17 that Scelest came across his first bandit. At the time he was around Goldenvale, now of Aurum Solis, when he heard the faint sounds of rambunctious, infectious cheering echoing through the streets. He asked about, and was led to an underground arena with betters and fighters and spectators enjoying the spirit of the Rat Ring. The bandit in question was named InverseAtom and was fighting fiercely, before winning the match with a flurry of blows. Scelest left in awe of what he had seen, the sounds of clashing metal reverberating in his head.

It was on business that led to him meeting his first true benefactor, fellow architect Joms J Jommerson, at the age of 20. Now an adult known particularly for his interests in both Gothic and modern buildings, he was first introduced to Joms' city of Avaricia. It was a city with glass buildings soaring past the clouds and vibrant condos kissing the lips of the coral-filled sea. He was offered a place to settle down in, a home beyond the hearths of inns, with the only condition being that he aid in building a framework that would make the city the crown jewel of the desert, a safe haven of hedonism and happiness. Beginning to build, he constructed housing of the purest marbles and the most lustrous stones of the neighbouring oceans. He built luxurious houses and mansions, even a casino named after Joms' very good friend, Agrippa Calia. Avaricia was where he met vivid personalities such as Soul Leyla-Earcala, and it being a town of Ravenguard allowed him to socialise with the epic Onetapped, the quirky GamingDerp and the Book Bandit Nethy.

Despite having isolated himself from it, a few months later was when the wider world began to reach out to him. The first instance was of MrPierogi arriving through the desert on a steed, claiming that he was "scouting out the area" before his, and by extent, Bostadia (then protectorate of the AWE)'s declaration of war against Ravenguard (whilst also losing his horse in claimed land). The situation was quickly explained to the lords of the Empire and it was quickly diffused, ending in MrPierogi being ousted from power.

Yoru turned back to mining to earn a little bit of coin, and it was returning from a mining trip that he found Dahlion (fellow citizen) and Joms conversing at the base of the newly constructed Avarician hotel. It was a day as fine as any other. Nobody would have expected for the fierce Goon, InverseAtom, to show up and begin a slaughter. He lost much that day, barely escaping into the deserts at the cost of Dahlion's life.

It was there that, bogged down by all his heavy minerals, he began to lose his sense of direction. As night fell, he was dehydrated and ready to collapse from the scorching heat. As night fell, his mild fever was replaced by crippling cold, and he curled up into the fetal position, wishing that he would be saved. And he was saved, for in the shadows formed by the moon and the mountain-like dunes, it was Lysthar that benevolently came to him. The great shadow cat explained that it was the Messenger of the Spirits, that it had come for him. And as he felt the potent, powerful, pure energy of That realm surge through his veins, he felt renewed and restored. Lysthar named him "Yoru", after the night he was born, and dissipated as if it was never there.

He knew that losing a friend on his account was unacceptable. After the incident, he began to research bandits in depth. He was fascinated by their immense power, as if they were polar opposites to him, the lonely builder. He knew that if they ever made a call to his abode again, he wouldn't stand a chance. He, with his rudimentary childhood training, playing with wooden sticks and twigs, versus lifelong killers? It wouldn't be a contest. But he could fight smart instead of hard. He could become a hunter of prey instead of a bandit. He could use his newfound knowledge contained in That energy to outsmart, outwit, outdo them.

Yoru began looking into the obscure, antiquated Spirit Arts that had been defined by his predecessors that had been obliterated on Jagdas. He wondered if Lysthar was in fact one such ancestor, its soul saved from the consuming maws of the void. With much research and praying, he received his first recipe from the spirits. It was a brew allowing him to skip across the water as if he were a glowing dolphin. On and on this cycle went, his fascination with brewing and cheesemaking and jam-making growing with every new potion, every new cheese, every new jam.

He vanished from the public eye for a few months. In those months, he had found a Spirit Gate and had travelled through to begin his training with the Prophets Long Gone. It was there that he learnt the ways of the Cult of the Pure Realm which he had been introduced to by its messenger. He emerged from the dark abyss of the Gate smarter and stronger.

Yoru sought out the vampire forgemaster, Lathien, and it was he who, with his vast resources, aided him in crafting his rapier, Aur'lokirakusch, meaning "Crepuscule" in the Old Tongue. Yoru would then go on to become a very frequent customer at his forge.

It was later on that he would be called to arms to fight against a territory near Rhineland called Mushroomica, and he aided in the ensuing capture of their fort, allowing his nation to welcome the territory with amicable terms of agreement, and he would also go on to aid GamingDerp in battling the troublesome warriors of Shirokaneza, namely ElKool and BlazeickTheMage in the heartland of Ravenguard.

Unable to partake in the War of the Black Flag, he watched from the side lines as the freedom of the Barbossan Pirates (whom he held great respect for) was crushed by a foreign power, and he spectated the Valorant War (Uraka Coalition VS Tortuga/Barbossa), unaffiliated with either side, as the renowned Pirates fell into the waters, most of them never to be seen again. It was on that day that he was inspired, by how the brave pirates rallied in the face of death, charging into a battle that they'd known they had pre-emptively lost. His respect was earned, and the Barbossans had earned it.

As a Bandit, his time was fraught with failure, yet it is due to his friends that he has the resolve to carry on a life of hardship. He was extracted from battle by JDD_JDD and pulled into the Spirit Realm by the Prophets Long Gone at the most unfortunate time -- when he was locked in combat in the centre of the Nether, losing his trident in the process. He was brutally assaulted by DireWolf57 and ElKool (nearly losing his fabled rapier to them) and was awkwardly bested in a duel in a fiery pit. Humility isn't something he is great at, but then again, he begins to see that nothing lasts forever. That it is only what anything has accomplished that makes them a memorable memory in the minds of the many.

Nowadays, Yoru is in the process of constructing a grandiose castle keep wherein he may properly establish his Cult and hopefully his permanent residence, as well as fostering the same principles that the Barbossans understood: fighting, fun, and friendship.