Servus Aristocles.
"Like fire consumes oxygen, magic will consume the mind."








The Kinshra

Noble Status:





The Kinshra.

Combat Type:


Servus Aristocles is role-played by Steve. I'll finish this sooner or later, give me a bit of time!

Early Years (Birth - Year 20.)

In Year 125 of the Fifth Age in a small Asgarnian farm-house,not twelve miles from where the wilderness wall stood, the screams of a mother would be heard until early hours of the morning.

The screaming suddenly ceased minutes before seven in the morning, only to be replaced by the innocent sobs of a startled new-born boy.

As if by magic, an overcast rolled in not too long after the child's birth, replacing the clear skies and blocking the fading light of the moon and emerging presence of the sun. The father, Ariston, decided that this sudden change in weather was a sign, the boy would be a mage whether he liked it or not.

A Teenage Prodigy:

Servus, being given the name by the Church of Saradomin, was thrown into the ways of a monk, being tucked away at a monastery where he'd study from the age of eight to thirteen.

By the age of thirteen, Servus left the monastery on his father's accord to achieve a higher education in Varrock. Servus began to grow bored with his studies, not finding much interest in the art of healing, which his father had forced upon him.

Upon arriving Varrock, the prodigy began his studies like any good son would, following the will of his father. At the age of thirteen, his life aura, being as well nurtured and honed as it is, had been developed into one that any other young mage his age could only dream of. It was during this time that he began to hate his father.

After five years of study, he felt that he'd learned all that he could when it came to the art of healing, until he received a letter on the eve of his eighteenth birthday that required he return home with haste. The man that he hated was sick. He got on the next coach out of Varrock and eventually reached his father's aid.

Not Good Enough:

Returning home, he arrived at his father's death-bed. Perhaps out of arrogance, having been nurtured his entire life, he immediately dismissed the surgeons and doctors and attempted to save his father, but can you save old age? No. After days of trying, Ariston succumbed to his age, leaving Servus a parentless son.

Moments after his father's death, Servus fell into a rage and stormed out of the room. He slammed his hand into the rune-pouch, which he kept on his hip at all times, and accidentally squashed a couple of fire and air runes, the ground in front of him became engulfed in flame, his poor mental state preventing him from controlling it, the fire spread into the nearby tree line, and soon to the house which he'd called home.

The Consumption Begins:

The new found ability of his, one that he'd stumbled upon out of pure disappointment and perhaps rage absolutely amazed him. On the run, broke, and hungry he returned to the monastery that he'd called home for the majority of his early years. Upon arriving he was welcomed with open arms, taken care of, shielded from the guards, and most importantly they gave him runes.

After a year or two of practice, he was able to bind fire to certain shapes and even control the trajectory of missiles, but that wasn't good enough for him, there had to be more. Servus, never having paid much mind to his Saradominist upbringing, approached the monks on the topic of fire magic only to be told to drop it -- to stop practicing his favorite thing. He refused to do such a thing.

Ol Servus

Ye damn yung'uns

After being told to stop practicing his art, he packed his things and planned to leave that same night. As he walked down the empty, dimly lit corridors he was met by a group of bronze and iron clad guards being led by one of the monks. Servus panicked. They were there to arrest him, or perhaps even kill him -- atleast that's what he thought. As they drew closer, one of the guards unsheathed his blade and Servus' hand moved for the rune-pouch but before it made contact, a ball of flame shot from one of the torches towards the lead guard, it consuming the man and only amplified by his armor. Screaming. Burning Flesh. Much Stench. He used this as a distraction, retreating down the corridor and jumping out of a window like 007.

The Zamorak Magical Institute - ZMI (Year 21 - Year 40)

Servus Circle of Magi 1

Servus adopted this symbol as his own, after having seen it inscribed on one of the rune-crafting altars.

The Zamorak Magical Institute, or "ZMI", is a Zamorakian organization which specializes in magics and runecrafting. Their main goal seem to be to arm Zamorakian magic specialists with runes and discover the incantation for the teleportation spell to the Rune Essence mine from the Wizards' Tower. Apparently, they have taken possession of the Ourania Cave and the rune altar therein. It is suspected this organization responsible for the burning of the Wizards Tower. (From the RSWikia. I'm too lazy)

Abandoning Saradominisim:

A year after leaving the monastery, he began to look outwards towards the other religions, namely, the practice of following Zamorak, because of the God being associated heavily with chaos and the fire that it brings.

He eventually traveled to Varrock, finding a church, and eventually being fully converted into the Zamorakian church. This, of course, wasn't just handed to him due to his background, he was forced into pledging the next twenty years of his life to a Zamorakian Institute dedicated to runecrafting and spellcraft.

An Initiate:

Quickly proved himself, yo.

An Adept:

Adept in bed.

A Master:

Practice n'shit.

The Kinshra (Year 45 - Roleplay begins)

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