He is somewhat tall. His legs are long and proportionate, and his body sleek and muscled in relation to them. He takes good care of himself for the most part. His fur is silky and fluffy, though a bit thin around the shoulders and hips. He's well toned and healthy-looking though might seem a little bit on the skinny side for most. He thinks he's great looking and that's all that matters. His ears are long and his snout slender and his face angular giving him a slight feminine look in the face.

His pelt is a palette of black and white, if you could even call it that. There are no mixes and there are no blends, just simply black and white. His left side is a deep black. In the sunlight or any kind of light it is simply black, no different shades or highlights like a natural black might be. The black covers his legs, side, yet stops at his spine. There's a division here between the black and white. No transitions or anything, it just stops to make way for the white on his other side. The black goes all the way down his tail in the same fashion and up his head, over his ear, the whole deal. The white is the same on his right side.

Upon his left side, trailing down his ribs and shoulder, and flank are thick, wavy lines of white. They start out wide at his spine before they slim down to sharp-looking points wherever they decide to end. There are various markings in this fashion, though they do not branch off as their own, always seeming to connect to his spine, where the black and white coloration is dissected. On his right side the markings continue, a mirror match but only in black. He is inverted, in general terms.

The only deviation from his swirl/wave type markings are the markings around his eyes. They are an intricate piece of work at best, and difficult to put into words. They weave around his eyes with great precision, each fine strand of hair never blending nor holding any other color than what is already there. This is what he is beneath it all. Most of the time he dons a cloak. Though this cloak is not made of any cloth material. In face, it is skin. Stripped from the bones of the dead and sewed and smoothed together. It had taken him many months and years to build it correctly and to his liking. It was a hobby of his, really, creating the mysterious overcoat he wears so easily.

The skin is thick and hardened, yet a small layer of fur remains on the outside, giving it a slightly silky feel. The hairs, however, were harvested and carefully manipulated into the flesh. The skin is mottled and bruised, a sickly array of dreary browns and dark reds and tans. It appears to be infected skin, though that would just be the age. It is finely preserved and fluid in motion as it falls about his legs. It falls about "knee" length on the sides, covering flanks and shoulders but dipping inwards slightly in between, as if it had been directly picked from an animal. A hood billows from the shoulders up, falling across his head, shadowing it and leaving only his eyes to glow and his teeth to show. His long ears stick out of the top, holes fashioned into it so it can be done. It is split down the middle, from the chest onward. For this reason he has forged his own golden clasp. The chain cinches the two flaps together across his chest. In the center is a brooch, a crudely cut ruby resting among a golden perch, and this is where the clasp remains hidden. Flecks of bone had been welded into the chains, allowing Illex to use his power over bones to manipulate it.

A sociopath, a fiend, an eccentric character all in his own with not a single care to give. He is a compulsive liar and manipulator, and he is so hellbent on accomplishing his own needs that it consumes him body and mind. He is fiercely adamant and determined for all the wrong reasons, and is not afraid to show it. He cannot help but shove the blame on others, and he is delusional enough that even when he is caught he cannot help but try and string the lie along further. He is conniving and cunning, and coyly uses his words well when talking to others. He plays with emotions well, and even though he may have some shred of loyalty and caring, it is not at all used in the way it should be.

He's a bit of a busybody as well. He always has to be moving, always has to be doing something. His mind tends to wander otherwise, and he sits in his own annoyance if nothing is happening. He becomes destructive at that point. He is one to accept authority, but not really enjoy it. He does what he has to, and is only interested in himself and what will happen next. He is good at twisting emotions to his advantage, and that's really all it is about him. He's only out for himself, no matter how much he might put off that he cares about others. He could tell someone he loved them just so they would stick around for a little while. If he was done, he would let you know that he doesn't need you anymore. He is efficiently maniacal, and is always out to fuck shit up, pretty much.

He is an instigator, and though he might not get directly involved, he will be there to see the aftermath. He is a backstabber, and prefers to attack from the shadows, alone, rather than full confrontation. Many might call him a coward for this, but he calls it being tactful. He is all around a dastardly being and will do whatever benefits him in some way even if it compromises something else he has going on. He has no regrets with his impulsive decisions. He is a wild card at best and it is best not to trust him, but he is good at hiding things.

Illex was born in a family of right wing witches and magic abusers. If they had the abilities, they used them whenever they could. The group they were in was secular. It took quite a bit of initiation to get into it. Anyways, that is beside the point. Illex was born to Nostradamus and Alice alongside a brother, though he did not make it. He was born with famine, and ended up dying young and thus is not really important. Illex was forced into the abuse of magic. He grew to love it, however, and knew he would have eventually gotten into it. It's simply his mentality. He was edgy and restless, constantly tearing about the lands in search of things that would help him hone his skill. He was weak, however, being young.

Though he could have been considered adept at it, he still needed to develop a little more to actually show promise. His father pushed him, his mother egging it all on, and Illex was unopposed to it. He did what he was told, with the few and far between rebellious acts. He could not stay out of trouble long, nor did that bother him in the least. He didn't care who he hurt, as long as he was getting some satisfaction from it. He was a tiny little teenage sociopath at that point, and it would only get worse.

It grew bigger than himself, and the further he progressed the worse it got. He simply could not help himself. He eventually broke away from his parents, no longer needing them no matter how they urged him to stay and continue his practices. He left and went rogue for many years, doing his own thing and almost forgetting about his magical abilities. He lost his touch when he traveled more into Victus. He did not settle down anywhere, twisting his mind even more as he discovered new wants, new desires, and new needs. He grew an affinity to flesh, though not in the traditional sense of eating it to sate a hunger. His hunger was in his mind, and he hungered to strip the flesh off of anything and everything. It was customary to see a cluster of skinned animals, their pelts lying about in tatters where Illex had been.

It is a mental issue, really, as it did not spring from much of anything but him being left to his own devices. Though he was not necessarily murderous, he was not the type you want to watch your back anytime soon. He discovered his forging abilities early on, haphazard pieces stuck together. It was all very hideous and poorly maintained, and so he set out to figure out the tricks of the trade. He began collecting bits and pieces of flesh. Small strips, large chunks, medium sized sheets. Whatever it was, he dragged it wherever he went, obsessing over it until it was perfectly smoothed except a light fuzz. Like velvet, almost, the quality of the fur he nurtured on the sheets he sewed together. He meshed them, flattened them, preserved them for decades. Oh, decades and decades, really, all thanks to the potion he had consumed some odd number of years previously. He did not seem to age past four, at least look wise. though he has been living for centuries. To cut a long story short, he mastered the trade, and gave himself a nice article of clothing in the process even though the brooch that clasped them together was rather crudely made. He was in a hurry, cut him some slack. So now he has decided to find his place in Victus, and it's not long before that place is Necrosis.

And what a name he made for himself within Necrosis. He became known, though not as widely around the lands as he would have liked. He practiced more dark magic and continued his habits. He conducted business with others and took what he pleased and became familiar with the alpha Calamity. Then the War happened. A gory battle that did not end well for anyone. Issar fell, as did Namaste, and many others. Illex figured it had been a losing battle to begin with, even with the tribe he had coaxed into the battle under the guise of his magic. He knew it would not end well, and when he saw Calamity fall he knew all was lost, even if he had not confirmed she was dead. So he left the barbarians to their battle. It had been a silly cause to begin with and once he weighed his odds and considered the benefits of any outcome he realized it was worthless to him. Many would call it cowardice; Illex would call it tactical. So he left Victus, his work complete and he returned to his studies. For quite some time he did this, falling somewhat out of practice with his magic but he picked that up soon enough. And then he came to Adymeria, a land far, far away from Victus. It was a new start, no doubt about it, and he would take advantage of it as he has any other place he has gone.