(( A sort of profile thing for Diarow... O.o<br/><br/>Diarow's life was promising from the start. He was raised with high hopes and matching intentions, to rule Hell as it once was, alongside his twin brother Drake. The Vintrict name had quite the legacy behind it, having remained in power for several generations by the time that the twins were born. There reign had been absolute, nobody even making an attempt at challenging their king for the throne, which had previously been quite common among the greater; their domination seemed to be mutually accepted for the most part. Vintrict, specifically, did mean [prime/supreme]. The case was no different during the rough times during which Diarow and Drake rose to glory, but things always turn for the worst after striking their best. To make a long story short, the greater demons became nonexistant save the two, and they have long since become something comparable to a forgotten legend. Drake was not quite as determined as Diarow, and started to snap after a few years of facing increasingly dangerous ploys, traps, and ambushes--he tried reasoning with Diarow, telling him that it would never end as long as they were still entitled to the throne. Drake wanted to give up. Diarow could think of nothing worse, and confronted his brother, labeling him a traitor, and beheading him in a fight that may well have gone the other way; Diarow proved himself superior though, and had become the sole heir to the throne by technicality. It was by a stroke of bad luck that the Devil later stumbled upon Drakes corpse, and managed to imbue him with new life, at which point he set off after Diarow to repay him for his previous lack thereof. It was a stroke of good luck, though, that Diarow had himself stumbled across an interesting find, and ended up keeping the great black dragon, Fissure, as a lifelong companion from that point on. In due course, Diarow escaped from the steadilly declining land he knew as his home, and found his way to different realm(s) entirely. He all of his years adapting to his new surroundings, solving the most significant problems with the constant use of taxing enchantments (e.g. Diarow's outward body temperature would otherwise be high enough that he would find himself incapable of traveling without causing trails of ash and flame to mark the places he'd crossed). For entertainment, Diarow had mastered every trade, profession, spell, and weapon proficiency that caught his eye, as well as going on myriad campaigns and adventures. The demon is notorious for showing up wherever he can make the biggest impression. The Demon Lord Diarow Chasama Savita Vintrict now stands a few bits over six feet--plus the height of his short, glossy, curved black horns--has a steel-cable build that is rather well-muscled, and constantly wears a long shadowy cloak that covers his whole body, and obscures all but the vague outline of his face 'neath the shroud of a hood (which bares perfect-sized holes which his horns protrude from). All of the people alive who ever witnessed Diarow remove his heavy-looking, thick, black leather gloves--with his family's seal carved into both sides of each--could be counted on Diarow's left hand, even in spite of it having its pinky lopped off; at the fingertips of his gloves, which covered his wrists up to the point wear his long sleeves met them, were holes for each razor-sharp, silvery retractable claw of his nine remaining fingers. Large jet-black dragon-like wings stuck out of slits in the back of his cloak, and normally remained folded over his back like a cape, going down almost to his seldom-visible bare feet where they supported him below the bottom of his sleek, shadow-like cloak. Every once in a while, one may catch sight of Diarow's many bright, pointed teeth--along with the occassional silohoette of his dark gray forked tongue--but only his solid-colored, pupil-less eyes which ever resembled molten metal showed on a regular basis. At any given time that he has not given his word that he would not harm anyone, Diarow is to be considered a potential threat to everyone around him. No weapons can be seen on the exterior of his cloak, but that means nothing. As a personality, the demon is fickle, mysterious, and is the extreme of either a friend or an enemy. His voice bears a remarkably unique accent that make his always well-enunciated words sound both gruff and formal at any given time, and he ends his sentances with a vague silence that makes it ever clear that he could say more. He stands tall and regal with a distinctive air of mastery and mystery, observing the world with a piercing, knowing gaze like the setting sun ablaze...<br/>Heck, that's enough... In case you were wondering, he can shift shapes into almost anything, though he has three real forms. His usual one was described... ))