Zachary Ayre (and Peon)

Concept credits to Luke Wooding ^_^

At a sprightly 21 years of age and standing 5ft 5in tall Zachary Ayre belongs to a species of fae known as the ven-faer. This species for those who might be unaware, typically possess fair hair, skin and eyes and are always wingless. The only physical attributes that mark out this species from ords or indeed elves such as the similarly pale skinned and fair-haired draern, are their average height and diminutive pointed ears. That and the fact they are stereotypically considered as money-grabbing executives with little interest in anything but themselves.

Now whilst stereotypes don’t always ring true and we at first question how this child of the ven-faer wound up in our studios, we soon realise that alongside being an impulsive person who loves to explore, Zachary was clearly drawn to the interview by an over-sized paycheque. Money that we might add he and his already wealthy family need about as much as we require toes stitched onto our backsides.

Zak himself is somewhat impatient and rather condescending but polite. He immediately tells us he dislikes being called Zachary and pointedly corrects us that his name is ‘Zak,’ every time we erroneously use the full version. He has a touch of a fiery temper that appears as though it may be easily lost, a temperament that we decide not to test. This decision is in part also made for us because Zak tends to talk a lot and struggles to commit to even his own random chasing of ideas. He tells us he loves his freedom and that he avoids people and social situations but that his natural charm always draws others to him which he finds, ‘most irritating.’

He expresses that he too is drawn to other ‘beautiful’ people and judging by the look on his face as he strolled down the corridor past previous portraits, he is apparently envious of those he thinks display more talent or beauty than he does.

He doesn’t bat an eyelid either in telling us that sexually he might swing both ways but that he has never met a beautiful enough ‘male creature.’ His usual preference of partner, he informs us, is women and he seems proud to admit with a seductive little wink that he is not the womanising type. We cannot decide if this admission is charming or creepy but he swiftly changes the subject to a passionate rant about how much he hates vampires and then tears up as he reveals his most precious memories of his late girlfriend who was apparently murdered by some vagabond vampires whilst they were travelling.

We’d like to be sympathetic but the pace of his conversation doesn’t really allow us time to absorb his story, it ceases almost abruptly as it began with the words, ‘well now that’s over with,’ at which point he switches on the infamous twinkling ven-faer charm. He chooses this moment to show us the small back pack he is carrying and the contents therein starting with a sketchpad and paintbrush he tells us he simply, ‘cannot be without.’ Being very artistic, Zak flaunts the fact that he was top in his class and that his college teacher gifted him the items as a special thank you for all his hard work at helping his peers improve. We are sceptical of the tale, yet once again, he rapidly moves on too quickly for us to have enough time to properly question his words, switching subjects instead to tell us he is also quite adept at fencing.

With fencing, Zak takes a more humble route and admits that whilst he could probably disarm someone he is not a fighter, his preference then would be to utilise illusion over hand-to-hand combat of any kind. Zak’s speciality in illusion is thankfully of the lower ranked variety, ‘simple legerdemain.’ Simple if you know how we suppose at least compared to most illusionary skills. Far too vain to want to learn how to alter his physical appearance or make us see things that are not there we are grateful he stopped learning once he’d figured out how to be an excellent thief. Perhaps we are being presumptuous in citing that his want to learn slight-of-hand was out of a desire to steal things, but as he displays to us, he truly is a master at the talent and clearly doesn’t work in show business.

 

Whilst Zak claims to like the outdoor life what he truly enjoys are the luxury of home comforts. Therefore, in amongst the art oddities of his satchel are practical ‘Tek’ implements. Or should we say, expensive and rare tools that make camping out more like ‘a mansion in a box.’ Instead of a flat pack tent one shakes out into shape, he has a rolled up orb that shakes out into something that resembles a small fancy villa. Sure, this building might be as fragile as a tent and void of appliances but guess what? Yes, all those home comforts are neatly secured into similar flat pack versions, that easily unfold et voila. The mind boggles as to how exactly this technology works but also makes us seethe with jealousy as the temporary dwelling stored in his back pack provides a better living standard than all of the employee accommodations here at Black Wednesday’s. In fact, if even one of us here were anywhere near as good at legerdemain as Zak is then he would undoubtedly be leaving our studio with a much lighter satchel.

We are surprised to learn that flighty Zak Ayre owns an art shop. Less surprised however to hear that his rather wealthy parents purchased the shop in his name in order to try to keep him grounded in one place. Being the entrepreneur, Zak immediately sourced a few hapless employees and put them in charge of the store thus gleaning all of the profit and none of the ties. Except that is the type of tie one wears which Zak has been known to don on more than one occasion, yet rarely on instances that might require a tie, such as this interview, we note. His clothes in general are tailored and expensive, definitely clean and acquired from his very own clothing line. He wears sharp yet practical boots for ‘rambling in the countryside’ but overall has the appearance of a walking advertisement for his own products. His clothing line, if you hadn’t already spotted the ‘A/C,’ embroidered on his shirt, is called, ‘Accentuated Clothing,’ and comes with the alliteratively condescending tag line of ‘accentuated clothing for an accelerated culture.’

At first we assume that Zak hasn’t brought along his ever-faithful companion, the one he has just finished telling us how much he despises because after rescuing the little critter it refused to leave him alone. Then in the next glimmer of an instant, ‘Peon,’ appears, albeit only for a few seconds, then it disappears. Now this dragon called Peon is of a species known as myna dragons named after the black mina birds because they are small and capable of replicating speech. These animals tend to look much like cute yellow canaries, tucking their limbs in when they sit so it appears they have only two legs rather than four. Whilst we agree, chatty little dragons are most irritating Zak doesn’t hesitate to explain that Peon is a special case because he has learnt to replicate or may have been born with the illusionary skill to become invisible. It is unclear whether the animal is of a higher sentience or not and Zak doesn’t seem to care because Peon spends most of his time playing tricks on the fae, throwing rocks and just generally pestering the poor man. At first, we assume that this might be just Zak’s opinion as he is largely impatient with everyone and everything and of course impulsive to boot, that is until Peon gets into the lighting and air vents of our studio and starts wrecking our carefully strung wiring. We realise then why Zak must be thankful for wireless technology and why he probably wants to shoot the vindictive little monster on regular occasion.

In fact, we shall end this interview with a small sketch, our interpretation of the ratty little Peon because Zak continued to talk well past his interview time and we point-blank refused to make any more notes.

ACEO 'Peon'

Ok we admit it Peon is actually quite cute, in a ‘puppy ate my kitten,’ kind of way.

 

'I Couldn't Care Less'

 Well, in view of our editor in chief being somewhat out of action this week we thought we'd send our snoops out to capture a few moments in time from around the Aftlands.

Those who made it back had some interesting tales to tell for sure as well as a few intriguing visual snippets to tickle our eyeballs. Anyways, to cut a long story short here is our digital artist’s rendition of tender Tomor and our dearest Dirzryn, mid-conversation. 

Titled 'I couldn't care less,' we'll let you decide who is doing the talking here:

Karyf Astyr

Well we thought we had interviewed the shortest candidates already but were forgetting that certain species of Fae are for all extents and purposes, built like children. Standing at a meagre 4ft 7in tall Karyf is one such individual, being a Fae of the Welkin variety and slim to boot means she appears to have the head of an adult rudely stuck atop of the slight frame of a young girl. At least in Karyf’s case her over-sized wings somewhat balance her appearance, most Welkin do not possess wings of this size and the majority are, shall we say, a might bit fatter than Karyf is.

Her slender form may be in part due to the amount of mental energy she expends and of course, the fact that she is only 48yrs old, which as we have already established is still young for a member of her species and would therefore equal a physique not dissimilar to that of a 24yr old.

Despite her relative youth, she does possess extensive knowledge and experience, raised to work as a ‘covert specialised operative’ (which we understand to be much like a spy and interrogation agent) she is well practiced in mind-manipulation techniques and we hesitate to add, has the ability to input thoughts into the minds of others. 

At this venture, we feel we should disclaim then that any unexpected niceties extended towards Karyf will likely occur because she put those thoughts in our heads, we are not, after all, renowned for saying nice things about our interviewees.

A good moment then to point out that Karyf’s base nature seems to be one of vicious, self-righteous sniping whenever the opportunity arises. She is argumentative and forthright in her opinions. That isn’t to say she is unpleasant to converse with, however being heard above her ego or breaking past her furiously fuelled need to be the most important and correct person in the room can be somewhat of a challenge.

She is unashamedly power-hungry and driven; qualities that she manages to make sound endearing despite the fact that all her causes are self-serving. An unwavering and passionate soul she certainly manages to hold our attention, or rather bolt it firmly in place for the duration of the interview. Karyf expresses that she cannot abide laziness, intensely dislikes ‘ditherers,’ and will not tolerate people whose, ‘minds wander every five seconds.’ Yes, she demands you stare at her whilst she speaks and will reprimand anyone that she thinks isn’t listening. That said there is a fair amount of sway in her behaviour. Often sweet, calm and even charming she will switch to deride others without hesitation and always rises to a challenge.

Her partner in business and at present in life is a Fae of the Alary variety (that would be the ‘bird-winged’ Fae for those not in the know) named Dhei Rysen.

Their skills and duality of profession makes them well suited, a couple who undoubtedly argue a lot and probably play nasty tricks on one another. They have a kind of mutual respect due to being an even match in their opposing abilities; opposites attract or in this case, loggerheads always reach a stalemate, aside from the part where the woman always wins. Neither of these two are a soft touch; both are manipulative and highly conceited, which actually sounds like the perfectly twisted sort of odd bliss you expect them to covet. All’s well that ends indifferently in their books, as long as there’s some kind of argument about it along the way.

Indifferent is one word however, we would never peg to Karyf. Her dusty pink locks and bright green eyes have an entrancing allure, a quiet and powerful mystique that we are unable to pinpoint. On the other hand, maybe that is Karyf adding her own little thought edits to skew our perceptions.

Xiaz DeVagrant

 

The eldest and shortest of the DeVagrant brothers Xiaz DeVagrant is 101 years old and a sturdy 4ft 9in tall. He’s about average height for a male drow of his years and aged enough to be a respected member of his community without being so old as to be seen as decrepit. 

That said from what we can gather most people do think of Xiaz as a bothersome old fart.

He’s temperamental at the best of times, apparently never smiles and has the marked expression of a man forced to suck down daily on a mouthful of angry fire ants.

I guess if we had to use only one word to describe Xiaz it would be bitter, but seeing as we don’t here’s a few more to explain exactly how bitter the old prune is: in short he is a crabby, caustic, sarcastic, vitriol of a man, who is embittered, austere, sour and resentful of everything and everyone.

Xiaz is the kind of guy who thinks life owes him something for all the hard work he’s put it, he’s done his share and it’s about time he had some recompense for all the toil and sacrifices he’s had to make. He’s also the type of man who doesn’t realise that his sharp, hot-headed and over-bearing nature is the reason most folks don’t like him.

Now Xiaz is certainly hardworking and not a selfish man, he has after all, dedicated his life to caring for his elderly parents, running their meagre business, and supporting his younger brothers. The problem is that he cannot understand that those choices were his to make and that he doesn’t win instant recompense because he chose to live a life of ‘sacrifice’ to others.

His bitterness exacerbates at the mere mention of Dirzryn's existence. Allowing him to rumble irascibly about the ‘easy-life’, he thinks his brother was given, and caw loudly about how unreasonable it is that some illegally born brat should be, ‘showered in riches.’ He also considers it ‘highly unfair’ that Aezlyn grew semi-pampered with an education and was encouraged by their mother to chase after his ‘silly daydreams’ of cultivating alchemic ingredients because none of those things have anything to do with the family farm, business or their heritage.

Which begs the question what would he do with his life if he had this freedom of choice he thinks is so sorely lacking?

His answer; ‘well I certainly wouldn’t go chasing after a bunch of medicinal herbs or waste it on flitting about rubbing elbows in some high and mighty brownnosed aristocracy.’  Which suggests he quite frankly doesn’t have a clue what he would do but can’t see far enough past the end of his shrivelled upturned nose to realise it.

Fair to say then that Xiaz is not fond of change, even slight changes to his daily routine, such as being dragged half-way across the globe for ‘some ridiculous interview,’ as he deems it, though his sturdy voice falters slightly in its conviction as he makes that utterance so we know that he secretly likes the attention. In reality he probably enjoys having the opportunity to wax lyrical about how wronged he has been, to set the record straight about his family’s involvement or lack thereof with the notorious Dirzryn and just generally have a good moan at a group of people who aren’t already sick of listening to his incessant gripes.

A shame then that we can’t repeat some of the colourful language used to describe his feelings towards the young master DeVagrant, nor do we plan to write any more on the subject since we covered it in detail enough when speaking to Aezlyn and Erynai. Which is merely another irksome point for Xiaz no doubt and another thing that casts disparity on being the eldest child, in fact this should tie in nicely to his victimised belief that he is the sole provider, the responsible one continually ignored but forced to hold the family together.

No Xiaz, no one has forced you into this position other than yourself.

The reason your marriage failed is probably because you are an arrogant, militant, narrow-minded and callous man fixated on preserving a non-existent stability instead of interacting with those around you. We here at Black Wednesday’s are in fact astounded that you were ever wed, seeing as not one person here was able to put up with your constant bellyaching for more than twenty minutes at a time. Being so self-involved we are also assured that you didn’t notice the staff slipping away for cigarettes and coffee at regular intervals because that would involve realising that the universe doesn’t revolve around you or depend or your sagacious insights to get its own coffee.

Just for fun, because we can and we know Xiaz in particular will hate this comparison, here’s their four portraits pinned together:

 

Aeric Bauer

And where there is one Fae more are sure to follow as they say…

Aeric Bauer then is 5ft 5in tall and is of the Fachin variety, all of these Fae possess the ability to grow a feathered mane and many are able to sprout wings or flight feathers. This transformation is considered a second physical form much like that of a lycanthrope because the occurring alterations are static to one particular shape however unlike lycanthropes this form may be held indefinitely until the individual chooses to transform again. This second shape is known as a definitive or hard copy switch, meaning that once the feathers are sprouted they are fixed and removing them to appear as per the ‘original’ state, is actually a separate transformation rather than a reversion.

At 35yrs old (which in Fae terms is the equivalent to an 18 yr old) Aeric is a quiet soul, a humble and somewhat shy individual who rather appropriately shades away from the limelight. A pleasant enough young man who at first glance appears to be a bit of a sap and a touch on the weedy side, we instantly peg him as the nervous kind, the sort of lad who dons a large blazer to overcompensate for having a slight stature without realising that it merely highlights how scraggy he is.

Like most of his kind, he does not feel the need to walk around with dark feathers sticking out of his ears and as he politely explains, only really uses his second form when hunting or levitation is required. He informs us he does not possess wings per say but that he can sprout flight feathers in a row down each arm. Whilst these flight feathers are sparse and not weight bearing, he assures us that they provide excellent stability whilst levitating by helping him steer, glide, and sharpen his manoeuvres. He doesn’t appear embarrassed when we ask for a demonstration but immediately declines to show us, citing, ‘maybe later,’ with an air of suspicion in those pearly blue eyes.

Now, despite appearing initially meek and limp-wristed it is at this point we notice that Aeric actually has alarmingly hard grey-blue eyes, which tell us life must have been tough over the years and that he probably bites back with more earnest than we imagined. He seems uncomfortable being interviewed and has a generally awkward disposition as though he either isn’t used to socialising or doesn’t trust a single person in the room. The latter, we soon learn is the more likely reason for his standoffish behaviour.

True to say that, the majority of people don’t trust the Fachin, to the point where the word ‘fach’ itself has come to mean curse. This in turn is because the majority of Fachin are born with the inherent ability to alter light: an illusionary talent. In the case of the Fachin this talent is called, ‘shadow weaving,’ because they are capable of absorbing light waves. Why is that good, threatening, or important? Well anyone able to absorb light to the point of appearing black can easily blend in with the shadows of night itself, and anyone able to become essentially invisible whenever shadows are present can easily, well, do whatever the hell they want. Now if the idea of a person capable of sneaking up on you, stealing your stuff or watching you without you even knowing they are there doesn’t give you the creeps then we suggest you seek professional help.

Understandably then explaining you are Fachin means being judged as a murderous thief before you get to the end of the sentence. It also means you are likely to receive a lot of communication from people who actually want to employ you to do their dirty work. In Aeric’s case however, as he hesitantly tells us, the ability to shadow weave is not the talent that everyone covets from him. His one unique ability that he describes as having ‘directed my entire life,’ is quite innocuous, and not apparent unless he tells you or you are actively seeking the information.

The fact is that Aeric is mysteriously immune to all poisons, including the very rare ones such as those possessed by the Aureus family bloodline. Naturally then he has been sought for most of his life by individuals wishing to unlock the secrets of immunity within him. From the innocent and genuine people seeking anti-venoms to extremists who desire to possess the same immunity in order to exact whatever horrendous chemical warfare plot they have been secretly scheming.

Sadly, for Aeric, those he cared about the most were also the ones who suffered the worst backlash. He says he was ‘removed’ from his family home in order to protect the village but that they were then ‘removed’ from existence by the very same people who professed to be protecting them. In turn, Aeric admits he thought it only fair to ‘remove,’ the entire village when the chance presented itself.

In reflection, we can sympathise with his reluctance and hushed tone when informing us of his immunity, even though the very same information is publicly available in-link. Learning of his experiences it seems justified that he might be a touch paranoid we are going to jump him, tie him down, and start sticking him with needles like a bunch of stark-raving mad scientists dissecting frogs.

Speaking of frogs, it doesn’t surprise us to learn then that none other than Staph Aureus himself adopted Aeric. Who better to second this assassin in his work than the only boy known to be immune to his poison? Dealing with Staph’s toxic arrows or indeed shaking his hand on a daily basis isn’t problematic for young Aeric. Being a fellow marksman means they have a lot in common and we imagine the sweet vengeance of ‘removing,’ all those villainous people who murdered Aeric’s family was probably quite a boon if you are so inclined to such things.

We are sorely tempted to make a crack about a bird amongst the frogs, but if there’s one sure-fire, way to offend the Fae it is by confusing them with anthropomorphs, or worse, with elves, even though elves do fall under the same sub-genus. It seems the more closely related the pointy-eared ones are the greater the distance and distinction they want to make between one another. Thankfully, we know better than to irritate a rather dark and angry little soul who can make himself invisible and will likely snipe us with a poison dart in the next few days if we push the wrong buttons.

We did however manage to convince him to show us his feathered mane, albeit briefly, and were somewhat disturbed by the confidence his transformation seems to imbue.

Great, now we can imagine not only will we find Staph waiting in the shadows at the foot of our beds but also Aeric, a shadow himself, hovering above us as we sleep.

Who are we kidding? This is precisely the reason we never sleep.

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Seeing as we failed to capture a rendition of Aeric’s flight feathers during our interview, we had our snoops set about capturing his likeness out in the field. This image is a tiny 2.5 x 3.5”, which suggests that our artist was either trying to be discreet when sketching or is in possession of the world’s smallest satchel. Either way here is an art card showing young Aeric’s feathers:

‘Fachin’s Mane,’ (Aeric Bauer), mixed media, 2.5 x 3.5” illustration board.
Currently for sale here :)