Marclin Luette



Marclin is polite and direct. Calm and collected. There was a ticking logic about the man, as if he always thought two or three steps ahead before he spoke. He often liked to pose deceptively simple questions to dig deeper into the lives of those he was curious about. Something *is* slightly off about him, but Warlocks tend to be an odd type traditionally, maybe that was it.

Marclin was an afflicted, but you would hardly ever see his Worgen form, if you did- he would have badly deformed legs, one blinded white right eye, mottled and scarred fur, and a almost indistinguishably hoarse voice. His human form, however, was elegant, fit, and ideal. His black hair was neatly cut and styled, he wore a mastercraft robe with arcane wards designed to harness fel energy woven into the very fabric. He usually carried an ornate staff or weapon of some sort. His face was handsome and calm, serene and confidant. His age showed in lines when he smiled, dashes of grey through his dark hair. He always wore royal rings slid over his digits. Always concealed beneath gloves or bindings would be two Fel Runes tatooed onto his wrist, each the size of a saucer. One rune read 'Power' and the other 'Control' in Demonic. A key feature of his 'daily carry' would also be a messenger bag brimming with Soul Stones, preferring to stock up for the future in case he needed to expend soul energy in a hurry. He smells of sandalwood and evergreen mint.

The Book: Marclin's grimoire is written in Aldrachi, each word would be infused with the soul of a powerful demon, many legion soldiers being used as fodder to write it. As a result, each understood word would bind the felpower of a strong demon to the reader, infusing them with unforseen power. It was once used to bind the soul of an Aldrachi to it's pages, now the book is useless to any who did not know the translation. Marclin seeks to discover the secret behind the words, and why the book was written in the first place, and by who.

Marclin's 5000+ word backstory