|Affiliation||Central Ackademy of Magic (professor/scholar)|
A scholar of the Central Ackademy of Magick, Alastair is one of the most talented black mages in the world.
Alastair, like all Yukes, keeps his face hidden beneath a heavy helm. The only thing that can be seen are two glowing yellow pricks of light, his eyes shining through the darkness.
Tall and thin, that is the Yuke way. An awkward body structure, with remarkably wiry features that seem to be held together by pitch and a prayer. His legs are short, making up less than a quarter of his body height, and are the thickest part of his body overall. His arms are ludicrously long, almost long enough to brush the ground when he walks, his hands, the only visible part of his body, covered in a thick fur, striped horizontally with varying shades of brown and tan. Even his neck is lanky, holding up his head by what seems a miracle on its long, thin stalk.
Robes of deepest purple adorn Alastair's sickly frame, hanging loose about his body, flapping in the slightest breeze. Golden bits and bobs are sewn into the fabric, and sparkling gems of brilliant crimson adorn its hems. Boots as black at midnight with pointed toes jut from underneath the low skirt of his robes, and a tall, pointed hat, blown back by the wind and made to fall limp from years of abuse, rests atop his helmed head, casting nigh-impenetrable shadows over his already helm-hidden face.
Remarkably intelligent, perceptive, and reasoning, Alastair is every bit the scholar he appears upon first meeting him. His studies consume a majority of his life, but he is not above talking to those who will approach him; indeed, quite the opposite, he recieves others quite well and welcomes the chance to share his knowledge. He can often be mistaken for a psychic, his perceptions picking up every minutia of a person's body language and quickly discerning their intentions, and whether or not they are lying or holding back information. He is friendly, but stern, and while he is willing to share what he knows, he prefers to be shown the same courtesy, and does not enjoy being lied to. He is also quite serious, with little humor in his dusty old robes, and while he may have a tendency to ramble, there is always purpose to his words, though that purpose may not always be relevant. When threatened he will return it in kind, his command of offensive magicks beyond that of any other in the Ackademy. Highly potent spells come quickly to him, and with the aid of powerful amplifiers swen into his robes he can draw upon huge quantities of energy within himself, allowing him the stamina to maintain an extended magical onslaught. However, he does not have the endurance to take such an onslaught for long. He has a firm grasp of defensive spells as well as offensive, but without them he cannot take a sustained beating.
An eclipse occurred on the eve of Alastair's birth. Some call it a coincidence, others an omen, but the fact of the matter is he was the only one of his kind born that night, under the slim halo of light that burned in the pitch darkness.
Even as Yukes go, Alastair's interest in magick and knowledge in general came at a young age. He was admitted to the Ackademy of Magick at the age of only 6, and excelled beyond his classmates, a prodigy of the highest calibur.