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Alistair Crowley
Alistair
Art by Macbethoff.

Position

Viscount of Storm's End

Titles

Staglord

Nationality

Gilnean

Affiliations

The Gray Company

Relations

†Godric Crowley (father)
†Eliza Crowley (mother)
Alaric Crowley (brother)
Darius Crowley (cousin)
Lucille Marsh (ex-wife)

Status

Alive


Alistair Crowley is a member of the Gilnean aristocracy and lord of Storm's End, a craggy, unforgiving and fortified stretch of isles off of the Gilnean coastline that barely survived being swallowed by the sea during the Cataclysm. Known for his brutish violence, cold nature and deceptive intelligence, his concern for others extends only as far as what utility they have: he has very few close friends and is more the beast than he ever was a man. Leader of the druidic Circle of Decay and a practitioner of death and shapeshifting nature magicks, he stands as signification of the darker aspects of life and has been attributed the title of Staglord by his followers.

Appearance[]

Austere and handsome, Alistair stands as an exemplary illustration of the appeal often attributed to those of noble blood. His features, unmarred by knotted scarring or blemish and possessed of angular and rugged features, speak more to the heartiness of masculinity than fickle, fleeting boyish charm. His eyes, a dark crimson shot through with glowing red at their center beneath an eternally furrowed brow, show no distinction to exhibit requisite kindness and give no illusion to the accursed affliction he suffers. What remains of his appeal lies in traits that are less noticeable: his long, loose dark mane of hair and neatly groomed beard, the sheer deviance of his smile and the rich tenor of his voice are often far more appealing than his nature.

It is clear from first glimpse that Alistair is one of some self-possession to spare on presentation and presence, for what garb he chooses is of rich leather or quality cloth rightfully belonging to one of his station. His is the frame of a man favoring brute strength over deft lethality: the cut of his broad torso and the span of his shoulders are impressive paired with his intimidating stature, and the authority with which he strides is either self assured or over confident, depending on the onlooking eye. There is never a time where he does not stand with his disinterested gaze skyward - should he be forced to look down his nose, perhaps the lord would find something less agreeable than himself to look upon.

Any lingering sentiments of softness are swiftly snuffed in favor of the undeniable, should his mortality give way to the monstrosity that lays slumbering within. Massive, powerful and of a hide as black as night, the beast that he becomes speaks to the heart of deep fears in form, a twisted lupine creature standing a terrifying amalgam of strength, speed and stamina against the fragility of humanity. A cavernous maw, wild crimson eyes and a deep, mournful bellowing howl are often the last thing his prey sees and hears before misfortune sets upon them in a most grisly and ferocious of manner.

Personality[]

I'll update this a little later.

History[]

I'll update this a little later.
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