Name: Umbra
Age: Ageless
Gender: Male
Species: Albino Dark Elf
Soul Form: Common Vampire Bat
Sexual Orientation: Polygamous; Pansexual
Elf Form: 6', Snow white hair that reaches mid-back, pink/red eyes, pale white skin.
Halfling Form: 5'5", Large, Muscular bat wings, long, sharp canine teeth, bright red eyes, 3-inch long, pointed ears, two-inch long claws on fingers and toes.
Bat Form: Much much larger then true Common Vampire bats, about 3' long and snowy white in color.
Personality: Often found to be a quiet, methodical man, Umbra is an intelligent, prideful creature with a lust for blood since achieving his soul form. He is of a logical mind, though he does not discount the importance of emotions and their impact on people. Utterly uninterested in humans and most other sentient life, Umbra mostly keeps to himself in his library - when he's not away from it collecting books to add to his extensive collection. Since being sealed by the humans fearing his species, he's taken to conversing with any animal that happens upon his prison, wanting to absorb as much knowledge as possible even after hundreds of years.
He has an extensive mastery over dark magic and all the common elven tongues, with a sufficient knowledge in several human languages and lesser knowledge of most animal languages.
Despite his seemingly cold, logical outer shell, Umbra is surprisingly in tune with his own feeling sand those of others and puts great stock into building his own family circle, more then a good amount of Dark Elves do, at the very least. He's never quite liked the idea of being alone for eternity, after all.
When threatened, Umbra will generally burst into his halfling form - his wings and enhanced senses proving to be more of an asset then a hindrance - and take to the sky, drawing his bow and firing off ranged attacks boosted with his magic. He has impeccable aim and his magic helps to guide his arrows so they strike true. While stuck in a small space where he cannot make use of his archery skill, he is still quite capable of defending himself - he always carries enchanted daggers with him along with a slew of potions in bottles enchanted to explode upon contact with a hostile.
History: Umbra was born to fire. His home was under attack by terrified and angry humans aided by light elves, both species bent on the destruction of his kind. His mother and father - two of a very large family circle - managed to send him away with a burst of magic before they were killed. Because of this, he cannot and does not care to remember his birth family.
The magic whisked him away to the capital of the Dark elves; Helvac. He was picked up by a councilman and subsequently raised by thee man and his small circle. The others of his kind treated him with a wary hand - born an albino to a species derived from darkness was a strange thing indeed. Despite his albinism, he was not shunned by his people, instead he was treated mostly normally with only the odd outcry of denial from a dark elf thinking him born of a union between a lightling and a darkling. Of course, his immediate grasp upon dark magic struck that theory down - especially when he showed no ability with light spells.
His teen years continued on the same way his childhood did until, on the eve of his twentieth birthday, Helvac was attacked by light elves and he was thrown from the city by his adoptive parents for fear that the lightlings would steal him away because of his albinism.
He has never returned to Helvac. He doesn't even know if it still exists, as he comes across so few darlings that stray from the city, and he builds himself a home deep inside a dark, cursed, magical wood. Over the years he builds upon his home until it stands a proud three stories high and is filled to the brim with all sorts of books.
Soon, however, he is found, though his home is protected by warding magic so strong not even the king of the lightlings can penetrate it. Fearing his strength, the light elf king casts him - injured and dying - into a pool of moon water, his people chaining him to the walls of his prison with thick, burning silver shackles, forcing his halfling form out and binding his wings, too, ensuring escape is impossible.
And they leave him there, half dead and drenched, unable to break his binds and free himself.
And he remains there even now.