Tethran Sheol was a half-elven male, young, though his precise age was hard to determine by looking at him. He was of slender build (some might say ‘gaunt’ on occasion) and wore functional clothing that allowed free movement. His dark, oiled leathers were not bulky, but worn in layers that created an ever-changing silhouette as he moved. His eyes didn’t seem to fit his relatively young face, deep purple in colour and more like the eyes of someone who had lived a thousands lifetimes and seen… things. Though his face remained implacable, something about his unblinking gaze would give you the impression of great despair, or desperation, or maybe loathing, or maybe passion, or maybe maniacal humour. It was hard to look him in the eye too long, even after you’d known him for years.
All of you have at one time or another heard Tethran muttering in his sleep or under his breath in a language that you didn’t understand. You may have seen him rhythmically swinging a handbell that has no clapper, head cocked to the side as if listening. When you first started traveling together you might have asked what he was doing, to which he’d respond “Trying to hear the bell.” As the years passed you became used to the sight of him listening intently to things that weren't there - some of you would have ignored this (willfully or not) while others may have tried listening themselves, no matter how hard you tried you always heard absolutely nothing.
His laugh was as infectious as his growls were intimidating, and what provoked either was hard for you to pin down, and might at times have seemed inappropriate or completely random. His mood was ever changing but despite his weirdness he was always a stalwart companion and basically a decent guy, if pretty godsdamn strange. He was always willing to help a friend, and though he eschewed churches he was frequently spotted giving a bit of money to orphans or stopping to help an old man with his cart.
You knew that Tethran was a warlock, and from what you know of warlocks he must have made a pact with something of great power in the past - though the names he invoked while spell-casting were nothing you recognized. Some of you really didn’t want to know who or what his patron was. Others, more curious or brave, may have asked and over the years gotten varying responses - The Messengers, The Bellringer, but perhaps most frequently “The Thing that Lives in the Moonlight”. Pushing him on the subject often lead to uncomfortable or downright disturbing descriptions of things like pale, mummified goblins with human teeth that could speak directly into your brain. Over time everyone stopped asking.
Likewise, in battle you have seen him conjure some strange things. Disturbing things. The kind of things you really strongly wanted to pretend were just a trick of your eye. His explanations that they came to him from ‘between worlds’ didn’t really help. They helped you win battles though, and he was a good companion to have in a fight. Over the years you fought many foes, including other warlocks. In battle Tethran was always calm, perhaps eerily calm, even when fighting abominations or anyone who dared threaten an orphan, things which always seemed to fire him up more than other foes. You do recall a handful of times that certain warlocks really triggered him - though it’s hard to figure out what about them set him off, all of you are aware that when his hatred and anger are truly riled his battle calm hardens into something else entirely and the murderous glint in his eye as he ended those warlocks was actually frightening.
Tethran and Gaylia:
Tethran and Edmon:
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