[Medium Sized Model - 25mm Base]
[Presupported with LYS files in 32mm & 75mm Scale]
Once a practitioner of the arcane, Ilvias found himself bound to an eldritch pact to service his master’s betrayal of Sovram. Now his service continues, bound to a master beyond the sea, and his ancestral master atop Dragonmaw Keep. Yet in truth, he wishes for a release from both, even though death would still see him bound to his eldritch benefactor.
A Silverscale of Old, Ilvias has loyally served his people for nigh a century, binding himself to eldritch powers to ensure the preservation of his people. It was he that bounded the great Sovram in his slumber in the Night of Proclamation, weakening his heart, his body and scales, so that the ancient black dragon might be susceptible to the machines devised to end his life. Yet this was not an innate power, for though Ilvias was born with a penchant for Minera’s Breath, he could not wield it with calamitous power like the sorcerers of Brol’Lokai. It was several days before that fateful night when Ilvias was trekking a forested mountain path. At his feet he felt a cold tug, and he tumbled dozens of feet down the cliffside.
Once he reached the bottom, after bounding down over stones, bushes and trees, his body was broken. From the woods stepped a figure veiled in shadow and night, formless, save for two eyes glimmering with amber light, unblinking, unwavering. They consumed his essence with a stare. They showed to Ilvias the coming future, the attempted coup by his clan’s leaders, and their eventual slaughter, alongside Azmordion. The being offered Ilvias a chance for change, his soul in exchange for the powers he had always sought, so that he might bring about the future his leaders had truly intended, rather than have them fall to slaughter from their own folly.
Reluctantly, Ilvias accepted, finding that the fate he would succumb to would prove worse than death. For though he was now bound to this eldritch entity that spoke in foreign tongues, his death would not see his release, but further servitude. With the eldritch being’s powers he was able to aid his people in maiming Sovram that night, where they would have otherwise failed. Yet after their victory, Ilvias came to realise his patron required a constant stream of souls to fuel his power, and without them, Ilvias too would perish, becoming a servant in the afterlife instead. Thus he must now become the death bringer of his people, having bartered a role in the clan that sees him as the bridge to death, where those near the end of their life are taken by him, a clandestine and macabre role that few know about. Similarly, the young who suffer mortal wounds in their training are brought to a secluded infirmary, where Ilvias becomes the last person they see. The clan sees this as a necessity, for if open war is fought between the Darkscales and Silverscales again, the powers of the Reaper will tip the odds in their favour, more than any soldier.
