𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 𝕱𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖊

Valtor Bio ~ Rules Readmore~ Memes~

OCC Update

Starter for @fiendishfinesse

Valtor did not enter the House of Hope as an invited guest, but allowed himself inside even if the Master of the house did not send an invitation for him. The wards reacted too late, flaring in confused recognition as his magic threaded through them, rewriting intent without breaking structure. Walking inside the building, the wizard simply hummed even when he noticed the other standing in the center of the main hall, before Valtor stopped several steps away and said nothing. Silence was his first cruelty, as he grinned widely, knowing that he was not invited here in this domain, but he came with news.

He let the silence stretch and allow doubt bloom before he turned on his heel, walking a few steps past the other demon. “You felt it, didn’t you?” Valtor said at last, voice quiet, almost thoughtful. “The one that tells you something irreversible has already begun.” The Netherborn walked closer, deliberately slow as he wanted each step to feel inevitable and an invasion. “The Crown of Karsus was stolen from your father's vault,” Valtor said calmly. “It's back on the board.”

Valtor leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as he whispered in the other's ear, "Are you going to keep chewing on that little bone your father gave you while another takes the crown? He was so desperate to keep you distracted, so you didn't find out it was stolen only hours ago." The wizard stepped past Raphael, close enough that their shoulders brushed before speaking in a mocking tone. “You’ve already made your decision,” he said casually, turning his back. “You let me walk in. You listened. You didn’t strike.” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes burning with quiet satisfaction. “You know that I'm only speaking the truth.”

Starter for @rivenrose

The wizard felt her before he saw the intruder within his secret underground lair. A wrongness in the air as light footsteps placed too carefully, breath held where no creature should need to breathe at all. Amusement stirred first, a low curl of heat in his chest. Valtor allowed the cave remain still and warm and deceptively quiet while ancient eyes tracked pale movement through gold and shadow. The intruder moved well, but every step rang loud to a creature who had counted centuries by heartbeats.

When the thief neared the artifact, the creature shifted as vastness collapsed into something smaller, denser, as his scales softened into skin. A man stepped back into the shadows, tall and composed, magic still simmering beneath the surface like molten rock under glass. The wizard watched the vampire crouch, fingers hovering inches above what was his, lips curling into a smile that had never once feared consequences.

The artifact hummed in recognition of its master, warning him of the moment it would be touched. Valtor decided he had seen enough and finally decided to speak up from the shadows. “That would be unwise,” he said, voice calm, carrying easily through the cavern. The male stepped forward, letting torchlight find his eyes. He watched realization flicker across the intruder’s face, followed quickly by calculation.

“I was curious,” Valtor continued mildly, circling her now, boots silent on stone, “What sort of creature believed themself capable of stealing from me. You move beautifully. Quietly, like something that has survived far longer than it should have.” Silver eyes met the intruder's simply observing to see what she might decide to do now. “You may withdraw your hand,” he said, stopping just out of reach. “Or you may test exactly how patient I am feeling tonight.” For the first time in a long while, the wizard hoped that the answer would not be the sensible one, as it had been a long time since a little mouse stumbled across his treasures.

Open starter // mutuals only!

"Oh goodness, coming to my chambers at this hour. You must be truly desperate."

Liked for a starter @nerocygna

In his deer form, the forest spoke to him in pressure and scent and the minute disturbances of life out of place. The witch’s magic hung in the air like burnt honey as it clung to bark and moss. He lowered his head as he moved, antlers threading cleanly between branches, each step placed with a hunter’s precision. Valtor paused where the soil had been scuffed with shallow prints leading deeper into the forest.

Moonlight slid over his hide as he crossed a stream, water closing silently around his legs. The current carried her scent downstream, but he ignored the trick, angling instead toward the denser trees where the air grew thick with gathered power. Antlers brushed past hanging lichen, never tangling, never slowing. The forest bent subtly around him, branches shifting, roots easing aside.

Valtor slowed to a glide, savoring the last stretch of the search as the witch was close enough now that he could sense her magic humming in the air. Slowly, the stag wandered into a cottage and paused just outside the gates, staring past the magical barrier he had not crossed.

Liked for a starter @friern

The wizard did not care much about the adventurers who traveled inside the dungeon that he decided to use as his hideout within this dimension. It allowed him privacy behind his magic illusion barrier until he felt something break it hours ago when he was gone. Monsters and natural traps that he left alone were inside the lair, but he paused when he noticed that the chest twitched. It was a mimic that stayed inside his study, which was filled with papers and his drawings of the otherdimensions he had visited before, that he was simply updating and recreating books for his personal collection, when he noticed that legs were sticking out of the monster's jaws.

Valtor slowed, head canting slightly as the iron-banded lid juddered, then clamped again with a wet, irritated snap. A faint, very unheroic muffled sound leaked from inside. It sounded like the intruder was trying to say hello as they must have heard his footsteps coming closer. He circled once, boots crunching softly over pages which had been knocked over from his desk, as his eyes were glittering with interest. The mimic shuddered again, teeth flexing as if reconsidering its life choices.

“Fascinating,” The wizard spoke with amusement and mockery. “I was expecting teeth. Not commentary.” The lid cracked open just enough for a shock of pale hair to spill out as sticky saliva glued to the intruder's shoulders to the rim as the mimic stubbornly refused to let go. Valtor laughed at the sight of the elf, as he knew who she was, and this time, though she was simply a thief. “Oh, goodness, Miss Friren looks like we meet again. Thought I would rather not." The mimic snapped again quickly as it thought the male did not mind that it could consume the female. Valtor reached out and tapped the chest lightly. “What were you doing in my study? I assume it was you who broke my magical barrier to keep intruders out."

Plotted starter with @natureswarden

The Shadow Cursed Lands press in from every direction, darkness consumed everything wander into the lands if they did not have a light source. Valtor moves through it without haste, boots sinking into ash-soft earth, eyes tracking the way the darkness shifts as his flames hover around him like birds searching and protecting him from the shadows that lurk.

The wizard paused in his tracks when up ahead he noticed a light source, maybe a lantern burning. Light in this place is never accidental, which caused the male to watch from the treeline as figures pass through its reach, moving with the wary cohesion of survivors. A group of adventors maybe fewer than five in total, who looked very weary and beaten down from battle.

Valtor studies them one by one, memorizing posture and rhythm as they were a few fighters, at least one spellcaster, and a druid. This group did not have any uniforms, so that ruled out true believers from the cult, which makes them far more useful. His goal was to enter the Moonrise tower, but he needed pawns to help him accomplish this goal, as he needed to be able to sneak around unnoticed to find what he came to these lands for.

After a couple of moments, Valtor steps out of the shadows and into the lantern’s edge, letting the light catch him deliberately. The group reacts instantly as their hands hover near their weapons reay to defend themselves from any attackers. The wizard lifts his chin a fraction, neutral, nonthreatening, without being weak. “Hail, adventurers, I don't come to cause trouble. I saw your light source and came to see. What brings you to these lands?"

Silence stretched as the male felt their attention settle on him, like a weight. However, his flames danced around strongly as they fluttered like birds flying around them, expanding the circle of protection and creating more light around everyone. The blue flames flickered with a coldness as they aborded the shadows instead of repelling them. His magical essence was creating dark magic, so he was feeding upon the curse like it was a buffet, little by little, which kept his flames burning effortlessly.

Valtor meets their gazes in turn, assessing reactions, filing away hesitation and curiosity alike. The shadows stir again, irritated, as if aware they are being ignored in favor of something more dangerous. The wizard clasps his hands behind his back, patiently waiting for anyone in the group to have the courage to speak up.

High Body Temperature

Naturally hot to the touch. Like it feels like he could have a fever all the time which makes him the perfect heater.

Temperature spikes with emotion. Calm Valtor = controlled, low simmer. Angry or amused = the air around him subtly heats, metal warps faster, and people start sweating without knowing why.

Fire magic feedback loop. His magic doesn’t just produce fire—it feeds off his internal heat. The stronger he gets, the warmer his core becomes, creating that endless power spiral.

Cold environments barely affect him. Ice spells melt faster when they get close to him.

Touch is dangerous. When he grabs someone, the heat is intentional, enough to burn through clothing, weaken defenses, or make a point without killing.

Eyes glow brighter when overheated. Not just a visual effect when his temperature rises, the glow intensifies, like magma shifting under stone.

Flames don’t harm him, but they merge with him as his skin temperature increases when surrounded by fire, making him even more dangerous in battle. However if he comes across a stronger fire source than the dragon flame then it’s a different story.

Cooling takes effort. Suppressing his temperature requires control when exhausted or wounded, the heat leaks out uncontrollably, scorching the ground beneath him.

Illusion magic around Valtor destabilizes faster.

Heat disrupts spell matrices, his temperature literally warps the magical “air” illusions rely on. This is why tricks that work on Darkar fail on Valtor.