Vaelrix of the Gilded Paw - The Rakshasa
“You mistake me for a monster because you can see my claws. The real danger is that you never noticed the hand guiding yours.”
Role in Its Society:
Vaelrix of the Gilded Paw exists as an infernal infiltrator, a rakshasa whose battlefield is not war-torn plains but court chambers, merchant guilds, and religious hierarchies. Where devils impose order from without, Vaelrix corrodes it from within, embedding himself so deeply into mortal institutions that removing him threatens collapse.
Among fiends, rakshasas are anomalies—outsiders to Hell’s rigid hierarchies, tolerated because their methods succeed where brute force fails. Vaelrix is often contracted indirectly by infernal powers to destabilize regions, manipulate bloodlines, or prepare civilizations for eventual conquest long before devils ever arrive.
To mortals, Vaelrix is a benefactor, advisor, or savior. Entire cities thrive under his guidance—unaware that their prosperity rests upon foundations he alone controls.
Appearance Description:
In his true form, Vaelrix is a tall, tiger-headed humanoid with reversed hands—palms facing outward, fingers bending unnaturally back toward his wrists. His fur is burnished gold and deep obsidian, impeccably groomed, and etched with faint infernal sigils visible only in direct light.
His eyes glow a soft ember-red, never blinking, always calculating. Fine jewelry adorns his neck, ears, and claws, each piece enchanted and symbolic rather than ornamental. When angered, faint heat ripples through the air around him, warping reflections and distorting perception.
In public, Vaelrix almost never appears this way. He favors flawless humanoid disguises: nobles, priests, scholars, or merchants—roles that grant influence without scrutiny. Only in private does the tiger smile return.
Backstory:
Vaelrix was once a minor tyrant in a forgotten empire, exposed and slain when his manipulations grew careless. Death, however, is merely relocation for a rakshasa. Reborn in the Hells, Vaelrix refined his craft, learning patience measured in centuries rather than years.
Since then, he has guided kingdoms into golden ages that ended in spectacular ruin, engineered religious schisms that outlived their founders, and cultivated dynasties whose descendants still unknowingly serve his interests. Vaelrix does not rush outcomes—he engineers inevitability.
He is immune to most mortal magic not because of brute resistance, but because he understands magic as mortals do not: as a system designed for belief, not truth.
