Name: Kassian Vey
Gender: Male
Location: Ilmaria
Year: 2000 E
Playable: Yes
World: Fera
Kassian Vey
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Name | Kassian Vey |
Alias | Kas, The Fifth Knock |
Race | Human - Ilmarian |
Gender | Male |
Languages | Ilmarian (Language), Alrussian, Umissian |
Date of Birth | TXT |
Date of Death | TXT |
Name: Kassian “Kas” Vey (alias: The Fifth Knock)
Origin: Ilmarian expatriate, once a contract killer for several Fera syndicates.
Hook: Decades ago he nearly completed a hit on Loric (Amaru's Father); instead they got drunk, told stories, and called it a draw. Gave blood oath, Loric's life for a favour down the road. They’ve nodded at each other across neutral bars ever since.
Big choice: He surrendered his immortality (sealed in a cursed portrait) to live a mortal life with his partner. She died of illness. He’s been waiting to die; until someone tried to burgle him.
Fighting style: Gun-kata and knives with surgical, almost courtly economy. When the portrait is reclaimed, his movements get inhumanly still and precise, like the air holds its breath for him.
The Pallid Contract; an Üstün-made oil portrait under Aether glass. It absorbs Kas’s decay, wounds, and years; in return it stains, warps, and occasionally whispers. Break the glass and his immortality floods back… at a cost (brief blood-thirst episodes, sunlight migraines, and memories bleeding out of sequence).
“Vampire” Rules (Fera-flavored)
Invitation myth: Total nonsense; he just plays it up to terrify goons. “Door’s a threshold, lads. Say the words.”
Aether sensitivity: He sees faint currents; silvered Stüber tech gives him nosebleeds; bright arc lamps cause photophobia.
Blood price: When bound to the portrait, he can heal by tasting blood, but refuses unless others will die without it.
Mirrors: Üstün mirrors show the contract’s state, not Kas’s face; that’s how he checks his remaining “grace.”
An aging ex-assassin who gave up his vampiric immortality for love gets dragged back into the underworld when his neighbor—a hapless but big-hearted techie—answers the door after five knocks. As mobsters swarm and old debts surface, he decides to reclaim the cursed portrait that once kept him unkillable.
Name: Kassian “Kas” Vey (alias: The Fifth Knock)
Origin: Ilmarian expatriate, once a contract killer for several Fera syndicates.
Hook: Decades ago he nearly completed a hit on Loric; instead they got drunk, told stories, and called it a draw. They’ve nodded at each other across neutral bars ever since.
Big choice: He surrendered his immortality (sealed in a cursed portrait) to live a mortal life with his partner. She was murdered. He’s been waiting to die—until the neighbor opens the door.
Fighting style: Gun-kata and knives with surgical, almost courtly economy. When the portrait is reclaimed, his movements get inhumanly still and precise, like the air holds its breath for him.
The Pallid Contract — an Üstün-made oil portrait under Aether glass. It absorbs Kas’s decay, wounds, and years; in return it stains, warps, and occasionally whispers. Break the glass and his immortality floods back… at a cost (brief blood-thirst episodes, sunlight migraines, and memories bleeding out of sequence).
Starter A — Neighbor POV, the bathroom beat (short):
The knock came five times. Not four. Not six. Five.
I opened to a man in a ruined suit holding his side together with my dish towel. “Apologies,” he said, voice like a church at midnight. “My toilet is backed up and my shower’s leaking. May I use yours?”
Behind him, someone groaned in the stairwell. I realized the safety on my bargain-bin pistol was still on. “Uh… sure?”
He stepped over the threshold like it mattered.
Starter B — Warehouse rescue (chair scene):
They tied me to a chair with packaging tape and confidence. The bald one bragged about the bounty; the pretty one fed me water with a straw.
“You shot his dog?” I asked. “What the fuck? It’s a dog. Even Hitler loved dogs.”
Pretty one shrugged at Baldy. “She’s right. Hitler was evil, but he loved dogs.”
Five knocks rolled across the loading bay door like someone rapping on a coffin. Baldy went pale. Pretty one swallowed.
“Answer it,” I said. “He doesn’t knock again.”
Starter C — Loric cameo (bar hush):
The tavern smelled like orange peels and old wood. Kas sat where the light didn’t reach.
Loric slid onto the stool beside him, ordered two, left one between them. “You back?”
Kas watched the bottles on the shelf, not his reflection in the antique mirror. “Paying a bill,” he said. “And checking on an old tab.”