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Nigellus Vile
#1
In-Character
Full Name: Nigellus Theobald Vile
Nicknames: “The Black Worm”
Birthdate: October 31, 1778
Current Age: 109 years old
Occupation: Wealthy Business-Owner, Criminal Mastermind, Secret Dark Wizard
Reputation: 6; while neither a celebrity nor an important politician, Nigellus' unscrupulous business practices throughout England, Wales and Scotland as well as many circulating rumors of his criminal activity, use of Dark Magic and, ultimately, the disappearances of certain witches and wizards opposed to him, have made him well-known in Great Britain, even to the point of being a household name. Albeit, a hated household name.
Residence: Castle Vile, an Unplottable castle located deep in a dark forest in rural Somerset
Hogwarts House: Slytherin Alumni
Wand: Ebony, 10”, 'suspiciously pliant', Dragon Heartstring
Blood Status: Pure
Social Class: Upper
Family: Father (Dead) – Thelonius Vile; Mother (Dead) – Astrid Vile (née Selwyn); Wife (Alive) – Salome Vile (née Carrow); Daughter (Estranged) – Persephone Steele (née Vile); Ancestor – Albrecht Vile, the so-called Blaecwyrm (Black Dragon) of Wessex

Appearance:

[Image: PjIrYik.png]

Nigellus Vile was a tall, lithe, gaunt man of advanced age, being one hundred and nine years old in the year 1888 (one hundred and ten by October). He was rather tall for the era, being approximately six feet, but his terrible posture, hunched shoulders and shambling gait made him seem a good deal smaller and less impressive than he really was, even to those over whom he towered. There was a slimy and decrepit air to him which his expensive taste in clothing nor his extravagant choice of lifestyle could conceal. Indeed, he wore a wide variety of fine brocade robes, obstinately preferring the traditionally medieval garb of the proper British wizard to the modern alternative of contemporary Muggle attire, all sharing a general color scheme of dark greens, silvers and blacks, common colors for Hogwarts alumni who previously attended school in Slytherin House. It is, of course, only coincidence that such colors also happen to be commonly worn by Dark wizards and witches.

In stark contrast to his fine clothing, Vile's hygiene left much be desired. Some of this could be attributed to his old age, but even in his youth it was clear to most that he cared very little about his physical appearance, nor how others saw him. As he grew more haggard and unpleasant with age, some might even have suggested that he delighted in repulsing and frightening others, taking pride in his unsettling countenance. His face was vulture-like, long, narrow and gaunt, with a sharp, prominent chin and a large, beaked nose. His face was sunken and sallow, and his flesh possessed a parchment-like color and complexion. His hair was long, unkempt, stringy and marbled grey with streaks of stark white, with bushy and unkempt patriarchal eyebrows of a darker color which flared naturally away from his eyes into audacious, feathery tendrils. He had no facial hair to speak of, save a pair of poorly-tended muttonchops flowing greasily from his sunken cheeks. The top of his head was bald as a hill of naked rock save for a small tuft of unruly fluff at pinnacle of his crown (which proved impossible to style in any fashion), and flecked with liverspots. His eyes were a cold, austere silver, like arctic ice, with a penetrating and unblinking stare that few but those with strong nerve could hold.

He was as slender as his own ebony wand, and ten times as brittle. His hands were gnarled, his fingers long, bony and twisted like twigs on the branches of a dead oak tree. Like his father and many of his ancestors (including the great Albrecht Vile, the Black Wyrm of Wessex), Nigellus was left-handed, and thus used that hand to perform most of his magic. He seemed to be perpetually scowling at something, lips ever pursed in a sneer of contempt or disgust, and rarely smiled save to to amuse himself at someone else's great expense. His was a crooked and thin-lipped smile, full of discolored, misshapen teeth.

History:

[Image: xILw5Yn.png]
The coat of arms of House Vile, descendants of Albrecht Vile, an Anglo-Saxon wizard from the Heptarchy-era (early Anglo-Saxon period) of England who earned accolades in the courts of Wessex and quarreled famously with the Cornish chieftain and fellow wizard, Adagild, eventually defeating Adagild in a wizard's duel. It's said that Albrecht gladly and openly used Dark Magic to serve his ambition and that a black dragon of unknown species obeyed his command. That is where he developed the title Blaecwyrm, or Black Dragon, of Wessex. The Vile family has a long history of fighting dirty, using dishonorable tactics, and questing after power. The silver key represents forbidden lore. The blazing wand represents martial prowess. The dragon is turned toward the key rather than the wand, ever seeking to grasp it, but also to beguile his enemies into believing he is unarmed. The Vile motto, "Dolorem ejus cedere prodest," is Latin for "Pain shall yield profit."

Born in 1778 to Thelonius and Astrid Vile, members of an ancient and well-respected Pureblood Wizarding family of Great Britain, Nigellus grew up in the mansion of his father, Castle Vile. It was a vast, dreary, sparse ruin of a castle with cathedral-sized chambers full of nothing but ancient, moldering medieval furniture draped in dusty sheets. Several wings of the castle had fallen into complete ruin, and because the forest in which it was located was Uplottable, they rarely received visitors and he never made any friends until his arrival at Hogwarts eleven years later.

His father was a dour and monstrous man, prone to drunken, spiteful abuse against the servants of the house (indeed it was not uncommon for a house elf to turn up dead now and then). He was a vile father and a neglectful husband, and his withered wife Astrid was little more than another sad, grey, forgotten piece of décor lost among the corridors of the castle. These early years deeply impacted Nigellus' notions of right and wrong, for though he loved his mother, he respected and feared his father. He came to believe, because of the obedience that his father's wrath commanded, that fear held more power than love and aspired to usurp that power for himself.

He was sorted into Slytherin House within moments of arriving at Hogwarts, and became remarked as an extraordinary student. He showed a special proclivity for Potions and Transfiguration in his early years, though eventually he manifested excellent mastery of Charms. A few professors also noticed a somewhat unsettling extracurricular interest in reading material encountered in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but these concerns were not explored due to the respect his family commanded in the wizarding world during the 18th century.

Having come of age and graduated, Nigellus at first pursued a career in scholarly research, wishing to become a spell-weaver and innovator of new magic like the majestic and legendary wizards of old, and to this end he was employed at Borthwop's Emporeum, a magical museum and library in Yorkshire which received meager funding from the Ministry. Over the course of four years, Nigellus invented no less than thirteen spells as he delved into obscure spellcrafting lore and magical history. Alas, his father, who was a wasteful and decadent man and had slowly been squandering the Vile fortune, demanded he withdraw and pursue an apprenticeship in business, or else be cut off from his inheritance. Nigellus greatly resented his father for this, but his family's wealth was running dry, and it did make sense for at least one of them to replenish it before they were steeped in ruin. The curators of Borthwop's urged him to develop at least one more spell before his departure, for thirteen was considered a very unlucky magical number, but he refused.

As it turns out, their advice may not have been entirely superstitious. Nigellus' first forays into the world of business were disastrous. He chased business opportunities all over Diagon Alley, probed the Ministry of Magic for medium to high end openings, attempted to buy several cheap properties, and even asked an old school rival of his, Orrel Benbrough, who had inherited his father's apothecary shop in London, to allow him to rent a space on his property and open a store of his own. All these ventures ended badly, either in rejection or failure. Unwelcome in his father's house without a profession, in particular a successful business practice of some form, Nigellus found himself turning to the only remaining avenue, bitterly meandering Knockturn Alley like some common vagabond in search of prospects; he, Nigellus Vile, descendant of the mighty Albrecht Vile, the Black Wyrm of Wessex! It was the one place he knew could turn a profit easily.

There was, however, a benefit to this low-point in his life... It was there in Knockturn Alley, submerged among the detritus and refuse of the wizarding world, that Nigellus had his first taste of real Dark Magic. It was an experience he had long desired to have. The house of Albrecht Vile had a long and storied history of Dark Magic, but its usage petered out and disappeared altogether after the formation of the Ministry of Magic in the seventeenth century. The Viles had remodeled themselves into exemplary, if austere and unlikable, citizens of the wizarding world. It repulsed Nigellus, even from a young age, to see his lineage so tamed and cowed by the merest hint of legal consequence. He had never held much stock with the rules, unless of course they were his rules.

Nigellus absorbed as much information about Dark Magic as he dared, making acquaintances in the most repulsive dens of iniquity around Great Britain. These Dark witches and wizards were all too enthusiastic at the prospect of making the acquaintance of someone they believed to be the rich and powerful son of the great Thelonius Vile. The Vile vault at Gringotts Bank was, of course, growing steadily emptier, but none of them knew that. He learned a vast array of sinister jinxes, hexes and curses, though always as a casual observer, rather than a student. He had already spent time as a student, and had suffered in the arena of business; he endeavored never again to address anyone as his superior. Especially his worthless father. The deepest wealth of dark lore he learned himself, self-taught through all manner of texts purchased second-hand at dingy flea markets and dust-caked bookshops. He even traveled beyond the boundaries of the Empire, seeking out remote places in Germany, France and Greece where he learned of very ancient and malignant forms of magic.

Nigellus slowly earned a fearsome and terrible reputation for himself in London, and by sheer display of naked force and unrestrained violence through various smear campaigns, intimidation tactics and the use of his growing band of unscrupulous lackeys and thugs, had become the proprietor of five different prosperous business fronts, as well as the landlord of a property in Knockturn Alley known as Caddy's Corner, which he transformed into a place with a most terrible reputation for poverty and misfortune. By the age of twenty-six, his own personal funds had already begun to eclipse what remained of the Vile fortune, and his renown had seeped out of the dark corners of Knockturn Alley and into the mainstream wizarding community. His power and influence only deepened when, in 1804, his father Thelonius was found dead in his bed chambers. An Auror-led investigation found evidence of Acromantula-inflicted wounds, most likely from a smaller, undeveloped juvenile easily hidden in a cupboard or slipped through an open window, and the Ministry launched a full investigation of the incident, interrogating both Nigellus and his mother Astrid, who conveniently had not been inside the castle at the time of the apparent attack. However, not enough evidence of foul play was compiled to result in a conviction.

From his residence at Castle Vile, which he now owned, Nigellus ran a two-faced empire, one face that of lucrative, upstanding entrepreneur and business mogul within the wizarding world of Great Britain, and the other a dangerous underworld of black markets, magical creature trafficking, lies, threats, intimidation, murder, theft and greed. His father-company, to which all his subsidiaries belonged, he named (rather unoriginally) Vile Enterprises. He gained the nickname 'the Black Worm' among the denizens of the wizarding underworld, an ironic inversion of his ancestor's title, Albrecht Vile, known as the Blaec Wyrm, or the Black Dragon, of Wessex. He married a witch from another Pureblood family, the Carrows: Salome Carrow, a shallow, vindictive, conniving, aristocratic woman. Their union was, at first, a political one to solidify ties between the family and keep their blood pure, as well as to consolidate wealth and influence. However, they grew to appreciate one another's complimentary qualities. Salome came to be an indispensable ally in Nigellus' plots, becoming and remaining to this day his only kindred spirit and confidante, even as he used his wealth and power to facilitate a few connections within the seedier corners of the Ministry.

Salome bore Nigellus only one child, a daughter: Persephone, a gentle and thoughtful soul whose radiance was dimmed by years of being subjected to her parents' criticisms and ridicule over her choice to associate with Muggleborns, half-bloods and enemies of the family at school. At seventeen, hardened by their mistreatment and wanting a better life for herself, she left Castle Vile forever, marrying the Muggleborn Julius Steele, with whom she'd fallen in love at school. This act essentially put a permanent end to her relationship with her parents, who publicly decried and disowned her, barring her from inheriting any portion of their estate. Persephone and Julius both pursued careers as Aurors of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement within the Ministry, and would go on to actively fight her father's influence there for the rest of their careers, trying to make some kind of incrimination stick.

In 1877, in response to the recent turmoil caused by the discovery of the wizarding world by a number of British Muggles, and due to the massive influx of wizards and witches to the village of Hogsmeade located very near to the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Vile bought a property in the little town and renamed it Vile Imports. Redistributing much of his assets from London to this new holding, he attempted to establish a stranglehold on the village's economy and transform it into one of his wizarding shanty-towns. He was however, due to a large number of mitigating factors, largely unsuccessful, much to his chagrin. Nonetheless, through his shop front at Vile Imports, he has been able to keep his filthy fingers in as many pies in Hogsmeade as he can plunge them in.

For years he's been content to let his lackeys run business in Hogsmeade on his behalf. Recently however, as of 1888, he has traveled there in person with his wife Salome to preside over his affairs in a recently commissioned mansion on the outskirts of town. He has not spoken to the locals nor been seen out on the streets and his agenda is entirely unknown. The construction of his new property has raised some eyebrows in the Ministry, especially between Aurors Persephone and Julius Steele, who have long hounded his steps.

Personality: Cruel, intentionally provocational, sarcastic, loquacious, arrogant; Nigellus grew up in the shadow of a pompous father who squandered his family's wealth, and regained his riches through evil and illegal means. He does not crave the company or input of others, nor does he place any value on their lives or wellbeing. He derives purpose and satisfaction from wealth, power and respect. He prides himself not only on his riches, but also his vast intellect, the greatest tool at his disposal and the weapon with which he managed to 'worm' his way into almost every shadowy nook and crevice in the world of Wizarding business and commerce in England. He greatly prides himself on his Pureblood heritage and sneers at Muggleborns and half-bloods, looking down upon them as inferiors, though his biases do not prevent him from hiring them on as goons or lackeys. He is just as quickly inclined toward vicious criticism toward those he dismisses as insignificant or irrelevant as he is toward insincere flattery and sycophantic platitudes heaped at the feet of those who possess something he desires. He is a long-suspected Dark Wizard, a criminal and a murderer, and though the allegations of these crimes have been dismissed due to lack of evidence as well as a long-suspected connection to a bribe-taker in the Ministry (whose identity, or identities, remain unknown), almost everyone knows them to be true.

Other:

1) Experience and well-educated wizard; highly knowledgeable in many applications of magic, including Wandless and Non-Verbal magic.
2) Accomplished duelist; practiced martial magic for years in his youth
3) Practicing (secret) Dark Wizard; highly knowledgeable of obscure, wicked and deadly magical arts
4) Educated in the use of Occlumency, as an extension of his crippling paranoia
5) Wealthy, well-connected, many resources at his disposal including but not limited to: rare magical creatures and items, hired thugs, a small number of corrupt officials bribed into confederacy
Sample Roleplay Post:

In a still, dark room lit only by a single shaft of moonlight from a small and lofty window, a figure sat very still behind a great oak desk. There was a muttered incantation in the dark and suddenly a spark of flame danced from the tip of the figure's ebony wand and gallivanted around the chamber, gleefully igniting every candle it could find. Thus the figure was revealed: willowy, withered and slouched, clad in fine emerald brocade hemmed with ornate silver threading. His robe was seemingly ceremonial, highly out of place in the 19th century, hearkening back to medieval fashion, worn with a high white collar and a wispy ascot. His wizened face was pulled into an all-encompassing scowl as he stared down at a set of documents scrawled out on immaculate sheets of parchment stamped with the seal of the British Ministry of Magic.

A heavy oaken door swung open with an earsplitting groan, casting the dim orange glow of torchlight over the threshold. There stood a tall, brutish-looking man with a grizzled beard and a completely bald head. In stark contrast to the flamboyant and anacrhonistic old man, this giant wore only a dirty, tattered shirt, unbuttoned at the collar with the sleeves rolled up to his biceps, with an old vest laden with multi-colored patchwork buttoned over it. His slacks and loafers were stained with a dark liquid. The old man did not bother to ask what it was.

“Well?” he snarled at the brute in the doorway. His voice was high and quivering, and if a voice could be said to 'sneer', his certainly would.

“Deed's done, Mr. Vile,” he growled back in a wolfish baritone. Though respectful, he was not obsequious, and held his ground coolly against the old man's overbearing presence. Being at least a foot and a half taller than him helped with his confidence.

“It had better be,” Nigellus Vile spat, sweeping the documents on his desk aside. “And the manor in Hogsmeade?”

“Under construction, sir, s'far as I know.”

“As far as you know,” Vile mocked, needlessly. “I don't pay you to give me guesses, Mr. Thatch, do I?”

Mr. Thatch stared down at Vile levelly, only the ghost of a smile on an otherwise expressionless face. “Sure the building'll be done soon, sir,”

Vile rumbled irritably and rose from his seat, levitating a quill from his desk into the air with a snap of his fingers. A sheaf of blank parchment rose from a neatly stacked pile and followed after it, and as he spoke, the quill began to leap and dash across the parchment of its own accord.

“Dear Mister Steele,” he spoke aloud, and the quill recorded his words in a flowing, elegant script.

“I have received and reviewed the grievances you have compiled for my benefit regarding my recent acquisition of the Bentleburry property. I am afraid it is none of my affair whether or not my neighbors approve of my business practices; as repeated, and, might I add, increasingly intrusive, investigations into my doings have proven, I am guilty of no criminal activity whatsoever, and I tire of finding Aurors sniffing at my heels every time I forget to pay the tax on a pair of pixie wings or sneeze without covering my nose. I have more than half a mind to shed light on this deplorable and embarrassing behavior before the Wizengamot and see what they think.

As to the disappearance of Arthur Bentleburry, I'm afraid that, too, is none of my affair. I don't see why I should be under suspicion, when I have clearly provided all the proper financial documentation of our transaction. Why would I pay a dead man money for his property – ?”

“Missing, sir,” interrupted Thatch.

“What?!” Vile snarled. “No, no!” he screamed at the quill as it continued to record his dictations. “Scratch that out. Anyway, what is it?”

“Think you mean to say 'missing man', not 'dead'.”

“What?”

“Well, the Aurors ain't found Bentleburry yet, 'ave they?”

Nigellus Vile paused for a moment, contemplating this caveat. “Why, you're quite right, Thatch, yes... quite right. That would have been a sticky conundrum. You've earned yourself an extra sickle for that. Now get out, and close the door. I have to think.”

Producing his wand once more, Vile incinerated the failed draft with a flick of his wrist, letting the crumpling ashes float gracefully down to the floor. Stoically obedient, Mr. Thatch slowly closed the door with another long, loud groan of rusty hinges. Returning to his chair, Vile slumped into the ornate mahogany seat and heaved an irascible sigh. He flicked his wand one last time, extinguishing the forest of candles he had ensorcelled to blaze, and the room was plunged back into cold black darkness, save for the square of moonlight on the floor cast from the high window.

Out-of-Character
Name: GrimGram
Age: 29
Contact: haldurg@hotmail.com
Other Characters: None
How did you hear about us?: RPG-D forums


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