#fel'thamar

Singed fingertips upturned, bearing evidence of markings that hint at the injury from burns, likely from overindulgence. Flickers of emerald sparked to life on the tips of his nails, providing visual representation. His eyes squinted for a brief second as memories of the past coalesced in his mind.

" For every warlock, there is a beginning. And while I pride myself by referring to one of my titles as a Master Demonologist, it was the path of Destruction from which I was forged from. At an early age, the hues of autumn that are often associated with fire, mine had twisted into the sickly green. I am over seven hundred years and then some, so you could only imagine how well that was reciprocated amongst my people. " A wrinkle formed between his brows. A sharp huff followed that was further expressed through a glower. The flames orbited his hand as if it were a planetary force, forming silhouettes of multiple rings.

" Affliction, arguably, is where I have the least interest. Many do not even use it properly and I prefer my practices to be more direct. Not to say I'm not against expelling a curse. " His pointer finger extended, quite the opposite from the others that seemed to close in on his palm. In doing so, the spits of fire centered at the edges of his digit.

" Destruction has a simile to that of Fire mage. Remember, you can very well get burned if you bite off more than you can chew. It's all a matter of perspective and use. Rage is a common conduit associated with channeling that inner flame. But I'm still going to argue that it's better than their school. " The left corner of his lip curled with an egotistical grace. " Affliction is all about cursing and withering a soul down to nothing. It taps more into the shadows of one's heart. It is often utilized in grudges and vengeance rather well. A mistress of cruelty if you would. Cold and bitter. Sucks the life out of you one might say. "

His finger curled to rejoin the others. The flame slowly faded to nothingness and Fel'thamar relaxed on his wooden throne. But in the background, there was a set of eyes peering back. Both of the same, fel-tainted nature. " Demonology, however, has spits of these things but primarily focuses on the pillars of servitude. Domination. Utilizing your demonic minions' strengths and weakness. And the drawback is you may face domination in yourself if you do protect yourself. That being said... demonic bargains can sometimes become a... beneficial transaction, one might say. " Sharp, manicured nails reached from the shadows, rubbing at his shoulders. Their flesh a scarlet pigmentation. A feminie chuckle emanated from that set of eyes in the back. " After all, some of those demons you summon may have been something more than you anticipated. Some species have even been known to have been a different breed of creature before the Legion's influence. And sometimes... service is far better when its voluntary. Isn't that right Dehlia? "

" Ohhhhhh yes yes yes. I never tire of hearing my Master speak of his practice and how it makes proud to have been his summon all those years ago. Even after all these years, he still has that fire in his eyes. " The shadowy silhouette of a horned femme crooned with delicious delight. " It's a shame he doesn't spoil me as much as he used too! ~ " Fel'thamar grumbled and tore his shoulders away from her touch, huffing softly. " Behave yourself, Dehlia. Or I'll send you back. "

[[ @handhourgalleries hope this stokes your fire ;3 ]]

This question seemed to earn less of his ire and more of his intrigue. The demonologist crossed his arms over his lap, closing his fel-tainted gaze in consideration. It was always easy to assume a demon would a quick guess. But the creatures that left the most impressions weren't the ones that were created from his art. Wait a minute, there was one. A creature with winged divinity. A representation of something of Order that had been twisted by not just the fel energies, but the wrath of something most mighty.

" There was a time, where I had met a creature that could wear the skin of our people one moment, and then take on the form of a dragon. Crooked horns and scales that had been blackened and charred by the beauty of the fel flame. She was wonderfully destructive. And I would very much choose one such as her as the beast I become should I be given the choice. " Though, he didn't quite remember the name of the dragon, this Fel Dragon left an impression on him when they crossed paths at the Legion's stronghold beside Suramar.

[[ Thank you for the ask @nahisummerhold mentions of @kyndragosa! ]]

Felstalkers were noted for possessing a peculiar, pack mentality that put most beasts to shame. Their tendril-like mane bristled when alert. Salivating from their calloused jaws, these twins seemed to be on edge with how that growled protectively. Their hooved feet clattering against the dirt in a stomp, digging their heels against the earth. Emerald runes seemed to glint on the left shoulder that flickered with intensity.

The one to the left seemed to snort as it began to take in the scent of the air that was around. The immediate magical source to grace its sense was that of death with a hint of blood. And while blood was quite common, it was the death that caused the beast to rumble with dismiss. An aroma that agitated it for some reason as it began to prowl on the defensive.

The right one soon followed, doing the exact same action which brought its salivation to increases, drooling a neon green slime. However, it soon quieted when it turned to turned to see that someone was standing in the distance. And with it, the first of the pair grew silent as they both stared at what appeared to be a floating eye of fel energy. It teetered to the left, and then the right. Always looking. Never blinking back. And when she would least expect it, a voice spoke to her.

" Have you lost your mind?! These are no mere pups! These are fully grown Felstalkers! Do not insult my hounds! " The floating eye seemed to glare at her now, -eyeing- her up. She was a strange trespasser. She had the eyes of a darkfallen, but her attire spoke of one that wasn't affiliated with the Scourge. " Now then, state your business, less you wish for I to have yourself torn to shreds for intruding! "

I believe this song will suffice for something that transpires in Fel'thamar's life consistently. Anger. Rage. A blooming fire that he could not contain. The fire within him never seems to go out. It only dies down, at the ready to flare back up again. But never ever quite beats the first time you absolutely lose it.

Seven hundred sum odd years and he still has dynamite inside of him. However, the fuse is far more remote than freely offered as he ages.

For the most part, not very much. There will always be his connection to them and the things he had done. He takes care to make sure his eldest son doesn't get himself into any trouble he cannot handle being a half demon and all. Meanwhile, his daughter occasionally makes a note to visit both sides of her father. But for the most part, Fel'thamar keeps to himself and only makes soft visits to his son, daughter, and Solexstras.

[ @losseignol thank you for the question! He's not much of a family body these days. ]