Rulakir Slagsoul is a short, but broadly shouldered man, his hard, sculpted body none the less strangely gaunt, as if the hand of God had chiseled away at it in an attempt to make an absurdist picture of a human being.
He is most often dressed in rags and tattered, poorly tanned leather, but what is most noticeable and prominent is the mark upon his brow. A strange symbol of oddly broken and twisted lines, in no human language, it is automatically clear to all those who look upon it: Decay, and damnation.
A child of war and rape, hated by his princess mother, and loathed by his kingly grandfather, young Rulakir was a problem ready to be disposed of. More than once in his youth, he was derided and spat upon by his own mother, beaten for the trouble he had caused her. It was at the age of seven that the deal was made, the bargain struck. Rulakir, amoungst other things, was bargained for a blade worthy of a king, for the Prince who would father a proper son upon the Princess who gave birth to Rulakir. And so it was that he came to the Enclave of Ironspirit, where he would become Rulakir Oresoul, and first knew the chance to be accepted.
But having grown without knowing anything but rejection, pain, and hatred, it was only natural that he too, should reject those who reached out to him, withdrawing within a shell of himself, retreating beneath the resentment of the smith’s labor that he was ‘forced’ to take on. Despite that, his own skill grew rapidly beneath the tutelage of the masters, convincing himself that he was taking what he would need later to bring them down.
Now, having become accustomed to taking what he desired, regardless of the prince to others, it was perhaps foreseeable what he would take next, as he grew stronger and more aware of some of the other things in life - a maiden, properly of the blood of Ironspirit. No longer able to try to convince themselves that the child was redeemable, his judgement was swift, the punishment, divine. Adan Ironspirit himself awoke from a slumber of decades to pronounce the punishment upon Rulakir.
The punishment was simple. The demi-god reached out to the man and touched him upon his brow, and there, he left a mark, and he spoke. "I cannot reclaim the gifts I have given unto thee, mortal, but one more gift I choose to give thee. Henceforth, all of those who gaze upon thy face shall know the worth of thy soul. Now go forth from this place, and walk it nevermore." And so, Rulakir was cast out from the Enclave of Ironspirit, the symbol of slag upon his brow.
As he walked, a new purpose overtook his mind. He would rid himself of the mark of Adan, and then, then he would return, and he would slay Adan and take his place.
As had Nial, then, he began his journey, seeking out both the finest of the smiths, seeking to learn from them, but all saw the mark upon his brow, and turned him aside. And so he sought out a different council, the wise and holy men of the temples. These too, saw the mark of the demigod, and they turned him away, each and every adding his own mortal curse unto the curse of the demigod.
It was deep in the southern jungle that Rulakir found, at last, the beginnings of a path, not in the temple of a god or demon, nor in the forge’s flame. Rather, as he rolled from the mattress of a lady of ill repute, his eyes fell upon a rusted knife, and his mind, twisted as it was by the recreational herbs of the jungle, fell upon an idea. It was insane, he knew, but so was he, and his hatred was overwhelming. He would bring the rot of rust to the children of iron…
Rulakir bears, at all times, his weather beaten smith’s hammer. Depending on when he is met, he may also bear the Legacy Of Hatred.
Rulakir Slagsoul is a forceful, and indeed, hateful man. He has a total of three goals in his life: The first being to murder the princess who gave birth to him and abandoned him, the second, being to destroy the demi-god who marked him as evil, and the third being to celebrate the accomplishment of the next two through his sadistic tendencies. Rulakir is sexually aroused by the act of torture, and it is rare for his partners to survive the night with him. He would like to make this a more regular occasion than it currently is once he is no longer busy with his other occupations.
He will usually choose the furitive and destructive paths to any goal, for little more reason than the joy of knowing that he’s knocked down something that someone else built. As a part of this, he has built a working knowledge of the paths of alchemy that few will tread willingly. He is able to make a significant number of narcotics, hallucinogens, toxins, and extremely potent acids, and he is unafraid to wield them against those who oppose him, or even those whose painful descents into madness would amuse him.
While he is not a gifted warrior, Rulakir is tremendously strong, and an accomplished craftsman, bordering on the edge of a master anywhere but Ironspirit. If at all possible, he will not fight face to face, preferring to use hired hands and the shadows to sink his terrible blade into the flesh of his foe, or to crush their legs with his heavy hammer.