|Lord Inquisitor Aculeo|
Count of Stormwind
Martos Aculeo (Father; Deceased)
The phrase 'tough but fair' can in no way be applied to Numerius. A harsh, scarred figure who will go to any length to see heretics and cultists are sent to the blackest pit of Hell where they belong. Lord Inquisitor Numerius' methods about doing this are... questionable in their application but effective in their results, and whether or not members of the Cathedral (who he serves) know of these tactics is unknown.
With most inquisitors, the innocent have nothing to fear - with Numerius it is the innocent who should be more terrified than any cultist, for their suffering won't end soon enough.
Standing at a little over six feet in height, Numerius has often used his imposing height to look down dispassionately upon those he has put to the question. Add to that the scars gifted to him by his dangerous lifestyle that has given him a monstrous appearance and it is often that a person will break down in disgust at the sight of him. His black hair is kept relatively short, the locks attempting to hide the fire-smoothed ruin of the right side of his face. The scarification a hideously, almost glowing, green in coloration and looking to be nowhere near fully healed. An eyepatch does what it can to hide the most repugnant of the wounds, the spot where his right eye boiled away to be replaced by a fused warren of vein and emptiness.
Besides this most hideous of scars, his skin is lined in many spots with blackened veins - the toxic blood oozing in such force here to stick out against his skin like fat, black worms. The same poisoned colour visible in multiple scars lining his body from contaminated blades. Despite much healing the poison has become benign - but will forever clog his arteries.
Because of the pain of his many old wounds, his face is near always set in a grimace that borders somewhere between loathing, digust, and barely restrained pain.
Commonly seen dangling from his neck is a silver skull wrought into the symbol of the Holy Light.
- "Innocence is the first to die when heresy is born."
It is his early life which shaped Numas. His mother and father were both extremely devout individuals and raised their son to be as such. When he was old enough, at the age of seven, Martos sent Numas to serve within the Cathedral of Light - which was still being built. Acting as an altar boy and candle lighter, Numas spent twenty years amongst the members of the Clergy. While serving as a lay priest during this time, Numas also spent much of any free time he might have had learning the ways of sword, dagger, axe, mace, crossbow and pistol - these training sessions being encouraged by his father whose memories of the First and Second Wars were all too fresh.
At the age of twenty-six Martos passed away of added afflictions suffered from a serious case of gout - varying diseases that preyed upon the old man's weakened immune system until nothing could be done. Now the new Count Aculeo, Numerius had bent much of his wealth to a cause he felt worthy and right considering his piety. Money spent on master crafted armour and weaponry, and enchanted or augmented in a way to give the twenty-seven year old an edge in combat.
Numerius took these precious items and pledged his life to the Church as an Inquisitor. Leaving his mother to rule the manse, Numerius traveled across all of known Azeroth to hunt down heretical and cult elements wherever he could find them.
His first mission involved the execution of a Forsaken warlock and necromancer deemed too great a threat to be left to Alliance operations. The young inquisitor confronted the sorcerer within the creature's abominable lair - one far too close to the town of Southshore for anyone's liking. It was in this meeting that Numerius received his most visible of scars, a bolt of pure chaos passing close enough to melt his skin and boil his eye. The pain stricken Numerius channeled his anger, hurling himself at the Forsaken and butchering the undead before it could unleash another spell. The damage, however, was done - and no amount of healing has ever mended the wound given to him.
After this, Numerius would go on to hunt down more and more cultists and heretics - nearly being sacrificed, fed to demons or ghouls, and having his soul ripped from his body by a priestess of the Old Gods. Through all of this he has triumphed at grave cost to his humanity.
Numerius almost succumbed to what he had grown to loathe. Falling deep into the thrall of the Shadow. For days he struggled through the pall, alone, before finally emerging - his faith in the Light strengthened - though he would forever be marked by the Shadow in the abilities he could now call upon.
His hatred of the heretical originally was born of his ideals of righteousness and an unshakable faith in the Light. Since then, seeing everything the world could unleash against such a glorious belief, his heart has hardened and he has become a grim shadow of a once devout, but gentle young man. Seeing the darkness conjured by necromancers and the rampant, fatal insanity that afflicts the cultists of the Old Gods has lead him to seeing a heretic in every shadow and has corrupted his thoughts into believing that no innocent can live where heresy grows.
Numerius does, inevitably, find himself free of field work - in these times the scarred man will generally be pouring over reports on suspected individuals or practicing his sword work in private.
In fact, the only thing Numerius ever seems to indulge in are his meals when he isn't in the field - enjoying the finer things Stormwind can offer from premium cuts of beef and savory wines, to delicate desserts with the highest quality of coffee.
Numerius nearly always has his weapons sheathed at his belt - save for when he sleeps or bathes, in which case the weapons are very close to hand instead.
His main weapon is a longsword, the blade forged of mithril and enchanted only minorly to give its cutting edge extra potency - the blade able to cut through an inch of steel fairly quickly. Though more recently he has been wielding a curved, sickle-like blade in the field, the blade itself giving off a confluence of divine and unholy energies.
Accompanying this is a dagger which, when plunged into flesh, can sap the will of a target.
Beyond these are four double-barrel single-shot pistols, each carrying hefty lead balls veined with silver and carved with symbols of the Light. And should he use his pistols, or prefer a quieter approach, two hand crossbows, modified with a magazine to carry additional bolts, are strapped just next to the pistols - each bolt tipped in silver and blessed.
Beyond his weapons, Numerius' armour has been enchanted and enhanced. His leathers enchanted to protect him from all but the most potent (or closest) of magics, while each piece had been further enhanced with adamantium weaving to make it much more difficult to slice through easily.
His helm, worn when in the field (or feeling particularly paranoid) has received the most modification. The lenses of it granting him grainy low-light and dark vision, and a very weak aura detector that can normally only see the strongest of magic and would otherwise send 'ghost returns' on weaker magical auras and spells.
- "If these are what pass for paladins anymore, I shudder to think what will become of the Church."
Hateful, angry, easily annoyed, unkind, intolerable, harsh, cruel, narcissistic - all of these are just parts of Numerius' charming personality. While he does not love himself, he sees himself as always in the right and as the only one competent enough to deal with heretics and practitioners of the dark arts. And more often than not, interfering with his work will generally result in him either labeling the person interfering as a heretic as well, or him loosing multiple barbs to try and provoke the focus of his annoyance.
It is an oddity, in fact, to ever see him display other emotions with any honesty. Even to his last remaining family member, one could see Aculeo treating her with a professional distance. Whether this is a way of sparing himself, or that the last of any positive emotion toward humanity has died is debatable. It is undoubtedly true that he will show tear-filled adoration and love when in the thralls of worshiping the Light.
- "It is far better to burn the village and its people to save the land, than to allow the chance at a heretic surviving."
It is hard to determine whether or not Numerius is completely sane or has gone past the point of insanity to where he looks sane. Given the extremis of his methods, and the ruthlessness which has seen him consign innocents to the pyre for suspected heresies, it is easy to think that he has broken and succumbed to the insanity of a zealot. Yet at other times he seems almost a normal person, just one whose life has been hard and full of pain - with little joy to balance the hate.