Ruhe Bellofaust

Background

Childhood:
Ruhe was born to a mother and step-father. His mother, Elia, had gotten pregnant from a wandering casanova. His fiery eyes made her lose her inhibitions, and the next morning was left cold and with child. To protect Elia's honor, her childhood friend and sweetheart, Richard, stepped in to take care of her and to help raise the child. Richard had always loved Elia and raised Ruhe as if he was his own son. Even when he started having his own blood-children, Ruhe was treated no different. Richard was a simple merchant and Ruhe helped him in the back with the inventory and business side of things. Richard talked often of business with Ruhe because Ruhe had a natural intuition and mind for numbers. When Ruhe came of age, Richard added "& son" to his store front, both of them hoping Ruhe would someday take over and carry on Richard's legacy. Richard and Ruhe would often go out together, after closing shop, to get a drink, talking business or the news of the day; if they weren't needed back home right away, that is. Being of tiefling blood, the prejudices made Ruhe shy away from the public and not make many close friends. He hated being reminded he wasn't human. Being with his family, however, made him feel normal. More human. It almost made him forget his skin and horns.

Adulthood:
"Aegis of Assault!"
The tall tiefling disappears in a cloud of smoke appearing next to his mark. His sword swings in a blur of steel and precision. Thick brown sap oozes from the young tree. Ruhe disappears again only to reappear and attack from behind, causing a fatal blow to his target. Watching the sapling fall to the ground he breaths deeply trying to focus his mind on his training and exercises. A small round point of chill presses into his chest. Ruhe closes his eyes as he presses the small stone in his chest pocket against his heart.
Angeleia Elohash.
Her silky soft wavy hair. Her wide light brown eyes that seemed to fill the world with joy. Her laughter that melted him to his core. Ruhe always remembered her like this. As she was when she was 20 and Ruhe only a year older. It was three years later when they finally would meet. Both changed but Ruhe still saw her as that perfect 20 year old angel. She had approached him. In hindsight, Angeleia probably sought him out. Maybe she knew how he felt about her all those years. Maybe it was just happenstance. Either way their love grew like a wildfire. That first year was what love was suppose to be. An endless worship and sacrifice to the goddesses of passion and romance. Ruhe and Angeleia traveled to the most beautiful places in Liminal. The best gardens, the traveling shows of magic and wonder, there was nothing Ruhe wouldn't do for Angeleia. Near the end of the first year Ruhe's youngest sibling died marking the beginning of the time of tears. One by one his siblings and ancestors slowly wasted away and died. They all slowly got weaker and weaker until they died in their sleep. No healer seemed to understand why, unfortunately the only healers Ruhe's family could afford were all novice. It was an endless cycle of sickness and death which ultimately lead Ruhe to his step-father's bedside. Ruhe was the oldest son. He knew he was not of his father's blood but he couldn't remember any part of his life without his father present.

"You are my son, and the only one who can find out what has been done to us. I tried my son, but all I could find was the name of an unholy society. Secrets of the Souls they call themselves. It could mean nothing, but I know that what has destroyed this family is not natural. Please help our souls be at peace. You are the only one left to carry our banner."

Ruhe stayed with him through the night and by morning he was an orphan. He tried to morn as he buried the last of his family but Ruhe's grief found no end. He found comfort in Angeleia but also buried himself in his research about this secret society. Ruhe learned of dark magics, sacrilegious rites, things too horrible to describe. He also learned of the place that the Secrets of the Souls called home.

One dark night, his grief overwhelming, Ruhe stole away in the moonless night to find the unholy sanctuary. Fog swept the city as he broke into the dark unassuming building. It was mostly abandoned but as he looked closer Ruhe found candlelight coming from under a crack in the floor. He searched the place silently and found a trap door leading to a smoky basement. Ruhe descended like a ghost. A temple and laboratory of magics filled with dark and wondrous things opened up before him. On the alter was two bodies in the throws of passion, dark silky wavy hair spilling over the edge like a waterfall. In a rage Ruhe charged the mass of sweat and heat ripping the male form off his love. Screaming in hate Ruhe strangled the life out of him. Electricity ran up his spine and Ruhe drop his limp victim. He turned to see loathing in Angeleia's eyes. Loathing that reached deep in time to a life before they met. She threw spells at him expertly and Ruhe defended himself as best he could. His heart was shattered, his grief too much, and the only retaliation that Ruhe could conceive was a spell embedded in his mind from those dark unholy books from his research. Ethereal wisps of air exited Angeleia nose and mouth. Her body falling slowly on the alter. As Angeleia's soul is distilled from her flesh it congeals into a perfect round stone of milky rose quartz. Ruhe finds a moment of peace before the stone fell onto Angeleia's vegetative body and his world comes crashing down with it. He placed the stone in his breast pocket. It was, and always would be, ice cold against his fiery chest. Ruhe became shrouded with grief and misery as his eyes fell over at his barely-breathing love.

Ruhe panted as his eyes slowly regained focus. The glade was now filled with sap and splinters. Angeleia never loved him. He knew that. He couldn't remember it now but the magic he performed that dark night, in that vile place was unforgivable. He knew that Angeleia's family would do anything to get retribution. But most of all Ruhe knew that there were others. His family was targeted and there was still hell to pay.

Mother: Elia [47] Died at 40
Father: Unknown, but of tiefling blood
Step-Father: Richard [47] Died at 40
Children: Ruhe: 31
Nathan: [26] Died at 19
Elphee: [25] Died at 18
Jezabella: [21] Died at 14
Rheana: [17] Died at 10
Nevaeh: [12] Died at 5

Personal Quests

• The Valdari: Find the strange cabal known as the Valdari, a secretive sect of infernal scholars and seekers after lore man was not meant to know.

Knowledge Checks

Making the following Skill checks regarding Ruhe reveals the following information about him.

Arcana

• DC 15: Ruhe's fighting style and arcane talents mark him as a swordmage, a mage-warrior who uses blade and spell as a single style.
• DC 25: Ruhe wields not only his arcane power, but some darker art - including tapping into the infernal power of the Abyssal tongue to unhinge the minds of others. This is not part of a swordmage's art, nor is it something tieflings can innately do...he has clearly been delving into arts mortals were not meant to know.

History

• DC 20: His familiarity with the city and understanding of its customs indicates that Ruhe very likely grew up in Liminal.
• DC 25: He does not, however, have the stilted accent that so many of Liminal's tieflings have, which usually indicates an origin in the Hellsward, or the imbricate city it touches, the Talion Court. This means he grew up elsewhere in Liminal, an odd occurence for a tiefling.
• DC 30: You recall a story about a tiefling matching Ruhe's description, said to be gallavanting around town with a young heiress of House Elohash, a minor noble Almanni House well-known for its fundamentalist and fervent adherence to the state religion of the Almanni.

Streetwise

• DC 20: Neither a stranger to the mean streets, nor terribly familiar with it, Ruhe probably grew up in a relatively middle-class family of some sort - quite unusual for tieflings in Liminal, who frequently grew up in the slums and tough neighborhoods of the Hellsward.