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    Character Bio Compendeum (Now Helmed by the Murgence)

    The_Flail
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    Post by The_Flail Thu Sep 27, 2012 12:08 am

    Name: Adrian Riversdale, Lord of Bywater Downs

    Aka: The First Gentleman

    Covenant: Carim Gentleman`s Society

    Origin: Carim

    Personality: Hedonistic, Arrogant, Sarcastic, Loyal to the other members of the Society

    Voice: Deep Voice, similiar to that of the Pardoner

    Armor: -----

    Weapons: Rapier, Parrying Dagger and Crossbow. All richly decorated.

    Lore: Adrian was born as the second son to Graham Riversdale the sixthe Lord of Bywater Downs. As the secon son he would not be inheriting the family lands, these would go to his brother Jason. However Carim tradition demands that the second born is given enough money to build himself his own future.

    Of course most second children did not do that. So while his elder brother, Jason, was learning everything he needed to keep the lands intact. Adrian was out drinking, smoking, wenching.

    During one such night on Adrians 19th birthday he and his entourage of various other second-born were drinking in one of Carim´s darker corners, a part of the capital known as Hanging End. There in a dark tavern Adrian bumped into one of the soldiers frequenting this area spilling his ale. The soldier enraged and inebriated demanded satisfaction in the form of a duel, which Adrian no less inebriated accepted. That was the day Adrian killed his first man and discovered his talent for dueling.

    3 weeks later Adrian met a man that would change his life forever, the man`s name was Chester and he offered Adrian an easy way to become even richer. Chester would aquire various substandard wares, which Adrian would sell to merchants, who once they discovered the lack of quality often challenged Adrian to a duell. Which Adrian due to his skill easily won.

    This went on for 2 years. By that time the two men had become some of the richest men in Carim. In this Year Adrian`s father died and his brother took over the family estate. During the burial however the emotions between Adrian and his brother reached a boiling point leading Adrian to challenge his brother. They fought a week later infront of their fathers grave, both being skilled swordsmen but Adrian`s experience allowed him to slowly gain the upper hand. The duel ened apruptly when Jason missed a parry and a blow that was actually aimed for his shoulder hit his chest pucturing the heart and quickly killing him.

    Adiran was devestated, for a month he retreated into the chamber that once belonged to his brother, cutting himself completly of from the outside world. This exile ended when Chester appeared, he stormed into the Chambers yelling at Adrian. He told him that he needs to come out of his room and care not only for their business but also for his Land. He made him realise that his brother`s death while unfourtunate was a wonderfull opportunity. That with the money he has now they could expand their business. Adrian agreed and their business that was once little more than a scam, quickly became one of the greatest trading companies in Carim.

    By the time of his 25th birthday Adrian became bored with his new live, the company and the family estate were self running and only rarely needed his direct intervention. So he decided to create a society for persons in a similiar situation as him. Men who either through birth or through sucessfull business did not need to work and now needed something else to fill their time.

    The Carim Gentleman`s Society, as it was called, quickly grew. It seemed that this was exactly what the upper-class has waited for. The society had everything, it contained one of the greatest libraries, a large wine cellar and a near limitless supply of smokables. It`s members began dedicated themselves not only to the fulfillment of their desires but also to the furthering of knowledge.

    One of the societies greatest interests was archeology so when Chester returned from an expedition with a genunine Oolacile pendant, it came as no surprise that most of the societies members where there for the reveal.

    To be continued once the DLC is out.


    Last edited by The_Flail on Mon Oct 01, 2012 8:16 am; edited 1 time in total
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    Post by ViralEnsign_ Thu Sep 27, 2012 12:10 am

    YES YOU TOOK MY BYWATER DOWNS SUGGESTION!
    Darksomething56
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    Post by Darksomething56 Thu Sep 27, 2012 12:19 am

    thanks viral and flail... That sounds good for a start
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    Post by ViralEnsign_ Thu Sep 27, 2012 12:41 am

    Name: Lady Alain Ireilla Valerion

    Age: 22

    From: Astora

    Backstory: In ages past when The Crow first brough Avrik back to life amidst the ascendance and broken bodies of the new knightly orders she unwittingly sealed her fate. The momment that Avrik killed her, before he stole her power over death, she curse him to never rest in the Grave.

    In this manner she guided fate, twisting the fate of her own children, so that they would hunt the last Crow.

    Every generation since has seen the first born child of the Valerion line born female, an spitting image of her mother before her. In this way Lady Alain of Astora was also born.

    Trained in the martial traditions of Astora Riel as she liked to be known found herself unable to master the ways of the Knight. With the Longsword she was slow, her attacks sloppy and weak, with the lance and the shield she would trip and stumble. However with the Bow she would excel.

    Keen of eye, quick witted, lithe and dextrous she would excel in ways that were frowned upon by her family and teachers. While she was the failure her brother Artur was a prodigy, rumour spread about his skill and that he was destined to serve the house of Knight Oscar.

    However what people said barely phased Riel, she spent much time dreaming about the lands outside of Astora or with merchants and traders. She would roam taverns in the Lowtowns just to hear stories and legends, and play up on the roof tops with the other low born children.

    Soon she found her self in possession of a pair of scimitars brought in by Vahel, a trader from Zena, with which she excelled. A confrontation with her more martially inclined father ended their relation ship and Riel was once again pressed into near constant lessons.

    Finally fed up with her fathers incessant ravings and demands she took to the practice yard bearing her curved blades. Some students challenged her and she would defeat them...though taking nasty blows to her un armoured body.

    In this momment the swordsmaster challenged her as well, and near close to death she defeated him as well.

    Having disgraced her family and brother she would leave Astora for the lands beyond. Over the next six years she grew and learnt of many things. She killed for money, stole, lied, cheated, she did anything to survive, though she also was generous, kind, and accepting.

    At the age of 22 she was drawn to Lordran where she was inexplicably drawn into the conflict between the Knight Oscar and his enemies. Initially working as a freelancer she was accepted into the Knights when the Knight Captain Endel took an interest in her.

    He never told her why though he did keep close watch over her, which she thought was creepy.

    When the Knights retreated to the Archives she stood with Cyrian Endel against the Gravesworn earning her glory when she killed Avrik in single combat.

    In that momment she moved with preternatual speed and grace, faster, stonger, more reactive than a normal human.

    Cyrian would explain later , his theory on the natures of human souls, that her soul was similar to that of the Knight Ciaran and that she may have the possibility to become the Successor to her powers.

    Intrigued by the she and Cyrian founded the Knights Successor with the help of three other Paragons, all searching for ways to inherit the power of the knights that came before them.
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    Post by Darksomething56 Thu Sep 27, 2012 12:50 am

    Very good and better organized than mine, and interesting she from astora and turned to be more dark theif murderer so well done big grin and w avrik
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    Post by ViralEnsign_ Thu Sep 27, 2012 1:00 am

    Darksomething56 wrote:Very good and better organized than mine, and interesting she from astora and turned to be more dark theif murderer so well done big grin and w avrik
    \
    Lol I normally like to take time and do a proper job of my character intro's this time I didnt.... there is so much I missed out.

    I like characters that are neutral... or neutral good or evil that way the things they do have more significance.

    In this case Riel is good. She needs to kill avrik because she is the descendent of The Crow,who ressurected Avrik, who stole her powers and identity, and is drawn to oolacile because her soul resonates the same way a Ciarans does.
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    Post by The_Flail Fri Sep 28, 2012 8:17 am

    ViralEnsign_ wrote:YES YOU TOOK MY BYWATER DOWNS SUGGESTION!

    Yeah, I liked the name:) It was either that or Hanging End and for some reason that made me think of certain song from Sir Mix-A-Lot.

    And thank you Dark, though I have a few problems with his story mainly because it includes a few DLC parts so I´ll probably cut it in two parts
    Cris the lighthearted
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    Post by Cris the lighthearted Mon Oct 22, 2012 6:55 am

    Okay, finally decided to try this.

    Name: Cris Burlow-The light Hearted

    Aka: Wanderer of the Divine Light

    Age: 28

    Covenant:Princess Guard

    Origin: Catarina

    Personality: Friendly,Tactful,Intuitive/Perceptive,Optimist

    Flaws: Too Trusting,Takes things personally at times, Can be too eager/Day dreams

    Armor: Wander set/Black leather Set

    Equipment: Bandit Knife,Throwing knives,S.Knight straight sword and iaito
    Shield:Grass Shield


    Lore: //Early life// Cris was born into a family of traveling merchants from Catarina. There travels taking them to such lands as Thorolund and Zena. Making good with the people of Thorolund, he learned of "The Way of light" and the miracles that it bestowed. While growing up he came upon clerics and knights speaking of the tales of havel and other knights that fought in the dragon wars.The more he heard these tales the more he became enthralled to experience such adventures as these brave souls did.

    //Recruitment into the House of Malnova//
    Cris finally got his chance of adventure by joining the House of Malnova when he became 17. A house lesser recognized compared to Thorolund, however still virtuous. Cris's life travelings and charisma granted him a position as a Scout and a Strider for the house. Sending messages, surveying lands and speaking with the inhabitants. He always came back with intel and stories to tell his leaders: Arch bishop-Garland Malnova and Lady-Rosla Malnova. With his success and patients he worked diligently. Hoping to eventually be knighted.

    //Knighthood and the Rumor of the Bonfires//
    When Cris became 23 he heard rumors from the clerics about the search of "The Flame of Kindling". The quest to link the bonefires to keep the age of light from the darkness. Said to be taken under the house of Thorolund. The Malnova house felt distressed. Garland not to be outdone by there rivals.Sent Cris to Thorolund to confirm wether or not the rumors were true. However Cris found this to be a selfish order and questioned Bishop Garland, making him less than valued after there argument. Garland relieved him of his duties until further notice. Until Lady Rosla intervened and decided to send him on another mission a mission that would finally make him what he wished as a child, a knight.

    //Cris's Mission- The Undead Dragon//
    The offer to slay a dragon was far too tempting to cris. Lady Rosla given him a mission to dispatch a undead dragon that dwelled in a wrecked cathedral. She sent a knight and cleric to investigate, but neither returned. Rosla had high hopes for Cris to face this horrible creature and if successful, can become a Knight of Malnova. When arriving at the cathedral. He found the missing knight and cleric, rotting and withered from the poison of the undead dragon outside the steps of the entrance. He knew he couldn't take this monster head on. And came with a clever plan, by using firebombs he burned the wreckage of the church, burning the dragon within, killing it. Once the fire died down he came upon the remains of the dragon, including some "dragon scales." Unsure what to do, he decided to take the scales back with him to Malnova. Lady Rosla was pleased at Cris's victory, and rewarded him with his Knighthood. When he showed her that he acquired "Dragon scales" her eyes seemed to light up. Taking the scales, she told Cris to keep the scales a secret from Garland. Cris agree, confused by his lady's actions. Wondering of his Lady's intentions with such a thing.

    //Fall of the Malnova house//
    Months after his mission and being bestowed Knighthood. Cris still couldn't shake off the reason why Lady Rosla wanted to keep the dragon scales a secret. From that day strange things we're happening. Clerics started to disappear as well as knights. Garland acting hostile to his own clerics. Including Lady Rosla, however she seemed the calmest out of the tension in the house. Til one day, while Cris came from patrol, found Garland Malnova dead in the monistary. Fearing the worst he searched for Lady Rosla only to find her in the Malnova Cathedral and with that, the horror that he saw. The floor was littered with clerics and knights murdered, by the remaining that surrounded Lady Rosla. He came to find out that Lady Rosla was commiting acts of heresy by pledging herself to the "Path of Dragons" and those that followed her as well. She grew tired of Garland and his popularity contests with Thorolund,seeing him nothing more than a politician than a seeker of a higher power. Tired of this she seeked empowerment. Learning of the Ancient dragons and there covenant, Rosla and her followers can now become higher beings and gain immortality. The dragon scales cris gave to Rosla was there first offering. Lady Rosla offered the rest of the house to follow them. Garland and his clerics refused, facing them in the end to be slaughtered. Now Cris remained out of Malnova house, horrified and betrayed. He made his escape, leaving Rosla and her followers.

    //Cris the Wanderer//
    After the Fall of Malnova. 5 years have passed, Cris became a aimless drifter, his livelihood shattered. He traveled doing odd jobs. Thanks to his training and Miracles he learned, he's been able to keep himself alive. Facing thieves, Bandits, and Hollowed Undead had become daily events in his travels and also avoiding members of the path of dragon. Rosla and her followers have been searching for him as well. However, after all that has happened to him, he refused to be crushed by this. For even still he came across people that are looking for hope and comfort in this Fallen world. He couldn't give up... he had to go to Anor Londo and see if the rumors were true... to see if "she" was actually there. As long as he keeps moving forward... he'll find that light.
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    Post by ViralEnsign_ Mon Oct 22, 2012 6:59 am

    Nice stuff man I really like your exposition and how you build towards his quest to lordran while giving the narrative a bit of flair.

    Have you read any of the other peoples work?
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    Post by Cris the lighthearted Mon Oct 22, 2012 7:41 am

    ViralEnsign_ wrote:Nice stuff man I really like your exposition and how you build towards his quest to lordran while giving the narrative a bit of flair.

    Have you read any of the other peoples work?

    A couple. So much good lore out there. I though it was best to single mine out and just give a general story to my char with the game lore. Until i get comfortable with the other stories.

    Thanks by the way. Character Bio Compendeum (Now Helmed by the Murgence) - Page 10 945058907
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    Post by ViralEnsign_ Mon Oct 22, 2012 7:50 am

    I love to read other peoples writing. Its cool man.
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    Post by The_Flail Mon Oct 22, 2012 6:13 pm

    Very well written story cris, much better than mine and with fewer typos happy
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    Post by Cris the lighthearted Mon Oct 22, 2012 7:08 pm

    The_Flail wrote:Very well written story cris, much better than mine and with fewer typos happy

    Thanks. Although yours is pretty good. A gentlemens club is pretty original. Compared to most of the character based stories i've read. Classy but dangerous crew there. happy
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    Post by robsthedon Sat Nov 03, 2012 7:58 am

    Ok I'm getting into a bit of lore now happy it's short and not so sweet.

    Lore
    Sirra 'Son of Chaos' Exiled 

    Appearance unknown as no one has seen his face.

    Out of blighttown he came. Once a servant of quelaag, but left searching the legendary power of life drain.

    A Lonely figure with the power of the flame and a bloodstained blade he wanders Lordran searching for humanity to power his blade and his flame. Always searching for a way home......................
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    Post by Vadislov Thu Nov 22, 2012 7:52 am

    Character name: Skye Bveska

    Origin of birth: The Great Swamp

    Hair: Black, knotty, shoulder length hair

    Skin: Pale and scarred and burned

    Eyes: Cataracts from embracing the miasma and darkness

    Armor: Dirty and scuffed steel with tattered blue fabric, most likely made of cotton for warmth

    Personality: Calm, honorable, doesn't say much unless pushed to a small conversation.

    Story: This womans story began in the Great Swamp, where she learned pyromancy at a very early age. When she was 15 years of age her parents had passed away leaving her to her uncle and aunt. They had been practicing necromancy which had been outlawed by the elders, but it had fascinated her, making her attempt her own necromancies in privacy.

    Necromancy is a very powerful art of magic, and can lead to a very unfortunate end if not used carefully. Attempts had come and gone in her life, some bringing back messages from the underworld. She learned much from the demons she was bringing back to life, but not all of it went unnoticed.

    She was banished from her home when the elders discovered her necromancies. With nowhere to run and being hunted as a demon by her own people, she quickly took to the mountain sides of Boletaria. Being a pyromancer quickly showed its benefits when night fell, because she was able to create a fire for warmth. The snow seemed to be endless on the cliffs and peaks, leaving the land in permafrost.

    She continued to learn necromancy from the books she stole from her aunt and uncle after they were sentenced to death for their evil role. Learning necromancy gave her access to contacting the dead, whom she had found comfort with. The days grew shorter and the necromancies worked for longer since the light was absent and the souls had to be brought back from the darkness of the abyss.

    Years went by until she ultimately fell to the power of the abyss, trapping her in complete darkness. In the darkness she could communicate with the dead and the demons, who were trapped in death forever. She meditated on becoming one with the abyss for hundreds of years, though it is not exact on how many. her mind grew in size and let her understand the point of the abyss clearly.

    The abyss was not a force of great evil, but is a realm of where our dead in this realm go. The life never ends in death, but continues to remain in a purgatory. The evil force was not the abyss itself, but the ones who inhabit it, much like us in our realm.

    After an unknown amount of time in the abyss, she was pulled back into her body, by death itself. Gravelord Nito watched the world of the dead and found great power and potential in her. He gave her a choice, to be left alone in the abyss forever, or to serve under him as one of his soldiers, to be a represented figure of death. Ultimately she chose to be by his side, since it gave her a purpose, which was to carry out the orders of the Gravelord and judge on the living when it is their time to fade into the abyss.
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    Post by The Letter X Fri Nov 30, 2012 1:22 am

    Warning: This is an extremely long bio (more of a short story) of my character. It is many pages long, and may hurt your eyes from the monotonous tone it may or may not be written in. Remember reading for long periods of times may cause permanent damage to your eyes, and to only read in well-lit areas. Read with caution.

    The Story of "X"


    Name:
    Silas, otherwise known as "X"

    Appearance:
    He is a shorter than the average and fairly thin man, and gives off the
    appearance of someone who may be sickly at times. On the contrary, he has
    strong, lean muscles that prove otherwise. He is aged around 25, but always
    keeps the stubble on his beard due to his younger appearance of about 18. Silas
    has tanned and slightly rugged skin from working the land for the majority of
    his life, and has short, dark brown hair normally covered by the hood on his
    cloak. He has a disinterested and tired look in his eyes mostly, and normally
    keeps them cast onto the ground. If not focused on the ground, his eyes are
    surveying his surroundings or other people, but the hood on his cloak also
    covers them at these times. A contrasting feature to his appearance, he has a
    smooth, but deep voice that often catches people off guard. He is very fond of
    wearing plain, sometimes ragged clothing, but he prefers to always have a long
    cloak wrapped his body from head to toe with a small “x” stitched onto the
    right shoulder for unknown reasons. This is perhaps from working in both the
    burning heat of the summer and the chilling cool of the winter. Silas is the
    type of person you wouldn't normally give a second glance, and he is aware of
    all of these things.


    Silas' fate was believed to be set in
    stone from birth to death. His family had an ancient lineage of farmers who
    worked the land around Rosemere castle for hundreds of years. The barons and
    lords of the area never took notice to this family of farmers, and only gave
    them a second thought when they needed a quick job done and they had no
    servants to cover the matter. To make things worse, the family could never
    obtain a Surname to at least literally give themselves a name. This family
    failed to produce any person of significance, be it due to the family not being
    of nobility or lacking a certain skillset in most areas. The men were not very
    bright. The most they could do was heavy lifting and manual labor that would curse
    them for the rest of their lives, and they were never wealthy enough to afford
    even the simplest of educations. The women were sadly doomed to also working in
    the family, along with cooking and cleaning like most other women that weren't
    fortunate enough to be of nobility in that time period.

    Silas was different, to his dismay.
    Most men in his family boasted tall, powerful builds, almost knightly one could
    say. They knew what to do with their hands, at least with the tools needed for
    farming. Silas however was frail and not very athletic as a boy. He was shorter
    and thinner than most of the boys his age, and was even too clumsy on his feet
    to be able to play the sports the others were able to whenever he finally got a
    break from his work. To top it all off, he bruised and became sick very easily
    to complete the perfect example of someone who should not be stuck with manual
    labor all day.

    But to both his advantage and disadvantage, he was the smartest boy his family had ever birthed. No one ever knew why, but Silas was exceptionally skilled with both numbers and with words. He would often calculate the current year's profit of the farm in a matter of
    seconds, and would predict the next few years' annual income on the spot. He
    taught himself to read from simply reading signs and flyers on the nearby
    castle walls, and could manage to read the most complicated of texts when he
    got his hands on them. He knew from a small age, however, that his family could
    not afford to make use of his knowledge. He had to deal with being limited in
    his education and studies and had to abandon any reading he might have been
    doing on his own to work the land on the outside of Castle Rosemere.

    He never complained about his differences, however. Silas knew there was no point in pushing for something that would never happen, so he pushed himself to be the best farmer there ever
    was. He did not necessarily obtain a knack for fixing things and working the
    land, but the tools farmers generally used became extra limbs to Silas. The sickle,
    or a scythe as he preferred to call it, began to become an extension of his
    arm, and he walked around all of the country of Easthollow with his trusty
    scythe on slung over his shoulder. He even began to obtain wiry muscles from
    working so diligently for the whole of his teenage years, but still had a
    slightly smaller than average build than most his age.

    Besides his physical and intellectual strengths and weaknesses, Silas was a very noble boy growing up(or he at least kept to his own idea of justice and nobility). He was polite to everyone he met; even those who did him wrong, and always gave what he had to offer to
    anyone who might need it. He was shy until a certain age, but after breaking
    the shell of shyness came quietness and coldness. As a young boy, he was scared
    of others, but tried his best to act his best around them. As a teenager, he
    began to care less and less about others' opinions but he refused to talk
    unless spoken to. Even then, he sometimes gave off a cold personality and
    refused to answer if he saw no reason in giving one. He still tried his best to
    kind, but it was not in his nature.

    Silas did not give up on his individual learning, however, and read any books some careless noble would leaving lying on the ground or anything in the trash piles that his family was
    required to burn every month. On one glorious day, he found a Battle Tactics
    issue written by the local Battlemaster himself. The Knights of Rosemere could
    be seen drilling and sparring every day on the outside of the castle walls,
    with Silas watching attentively. He was more of a critic than anything else.
    The whole while Silas watched the knights make clumsy swings that left them
    open to strikes from seemingly every angle possible he was both coming up with
    better attack combinations with less openings and counteractions for those.

    Silas looked at the Battle Tactics book, and realized it was an older copy that was probably considered obsolete. The techniques used in the drills that the knights were practicing weren’t much different than those in Silas’ new, but old book. The knights were only
    performing a few changes here and there, so Silas figured this book may have
    been thrown away due to better siege or tower defense tactics introduced. The
    foot soldier’s attacking patterns were terrible, however, and Silas could not
    stand it. They were predictable, sloppy, slow, and just outright bad. To make
    things even harder for Silas to understand was that even other armies were
    making the same mistake! Silas’ land was close enough to the castle of Rosemere
    to view a full-scale siege on the castle. Rosemere’s knights usually met the
    attacking army’s troops about a quarter of a mile away from the castle, so
    Silas took the chance to view the battles from a short enough distance to critique
    the soldiers’ fighting abilities.

    Silas did not notice it for the longest time, but he had more than just a knack for hand-to-hand combat strategies. He could pick out a warrior’s biggest flaws within one or two
    attacks delivered and would often predict how he would fall in battle. “This
    soldier always leaves his left side open,” Silas would say to himself. And sure
    enough, the exact soldier was cut down by a powerful swing from a greatsword,
    crushing his entire rib cage on the left side of his body.

    The thin, tanned man decided he was bored with only farming in his life. When he turned 18, he was given a piece of land directly next to the castle, and used it to his advantage to view
    even more battles. The Battle Tactics issues continued to roll into his hands
    one way or another, and he could keep up with the changes in them with ease. He
    started to predict the changes that would be in the next issue, and eventually
    did not need to read the books any longer to know what the tactics and
    strategies would evolve into next. He managed to visit a few duels between
    knights inside the castle walls to get a view on one-on-one combat. Not to his
    surprise, the same problems showed up. Silas decided it was time he stopped
    complaining to himself about how bad the techniques were, and that it was time
    for him to actually do something about it.

    In reality, Silas knew no one would heed his advice about how atrocious the knights looked when performing their drills. He was a lowly peon without a last name and the lords and barons of the area were too stuck up to listen to even the most prestigious and knowledgeable
    men of arms. So Silas decided what needed to be done needed to be done – he was
    going to fight in a war.

    Silas was 21 when he fought in his first war. The castle was put under extreme siege defense measures and was evacuated of all of the people of importance. As normal procedure, the two
    armies met a quarter-mile away from the castle, which was only a couple
    minutes’ walking distance from Silas’ small cottage. He walked with confidence
    with his scythe slung around his back, now battle-ready from Silas learning how
    to sharpen and shape the blade into an actual weapon rather than a traditional
    tool. There was a lone tree set off about 300 meters to the side where the two
    armies would first clash. Silas decided to make it his hiding spot, knowing he
    could not just join the Knights of Rosemere’s ranks without being noticed.
    Silas stood in under the tree, and the grass in the whole open field before him
    slightly swayed back and forth like the calm before the storm that was to come.
    The sky was overcast, making the midday seem more like the evening.

    The two armies began marching toward each other in the distance ten minutes after Silas arrived, with Castle Rosemere and its knights to Silas’ left and the attacking armies’ warriors to
    his right. The numbers of the armies were about 400 each, an even match that
    would provide a great battle to watch on a normal day.

    This was no normal day, however, and Silas was ready to prove that. The two armies began rushing towards each other, and Silas watched intensely for the best moment to strike. The armies clashed, and Silas decided that was the best time to make his away over to the
    battlegrounds. He was quiet in his movements, but moved very quickly. Silas was
    now in excellent physical shape, and could use his muscles both powerfully and
    quickly. He reached the battle in a matter of seconds that would take the
    average man minutes and slung his scythe into his hands from over his shoulder.
    His cloak was flying behind him, but with his hood still covering his face.
    Silas knew the danger of battling with no armor, but he was confident – and
    possibly prideful enough to do it.

    Silas’ first experience of battle was exhilarating. He entered the fray slightly to his left to prevent himself as appearing as one of the enemy and found his first target. The enemy soldier
    just won his bout against one of Rosemere’s knights, but his victory did not
    last long as he was cut down by a long bladed sickle from behind. The sharpened
    blade of Silas’ scythe cut through the steel of the soldier’s armor much easier
    than a regular longsword used by most knights of the current era. Even some
    greatswords would find it difficult to cut through many inches of steel along
    with human flesh and bone with such ease.

    Silas glanced at his first downed enemy on the ground knowing if he spent too much time relishing on his victory he would share the same fate. He realized he made the right decision because another enemy soldier was charging with a large axe in a double-handed grip.
    The enemy was easily sidestepped and cut down straight through his lightly
    covered torso, possibly for better movement. It was a mistake for the soldier,
    however, and many of his brethren fell to the same fate.

    The Knights of Rosemere struggled as individuals, but excelled in unified efforts to take the enemy down. They generally moved in groups of 3 or 4, and took each individual enemy down so quickly that no enemy could plan a surprise attack from behind while they were
    busy with another. And with the unfortunate fall of one knight, another knight
    in a group of 4 would quickly bring a group of 2 to a group of 3 in a matter of
    seconds. Silas was complementing this strategy on his own by taking down one
    ore two enemies planning to take on a Rosemere group on equal grounds. He could
    easily cut the enemy group off, cut one enemy down from the surprise, battle
    another with ease toe-to-toe, and retreating to another enemy group without the
    enemy or even the warriors of Rosemere knowing what happened.

    With these tactics and the strange, hooded figure
    cutting down enemies left and right, the enemy army was made quick work of.
    When Silas noticed there were only about 30 soldier of the enemy army left, he
    made his quick getaway. Not one soul from either side of the battle remembered
    the hooded figure, much less paid much attention to him during the battle.
    Silas returned to the tree off to the side of the battlefield, and sat down to
    rest. He was cut in numerous places. There was a nasty gash across his left
    shoulder and he was pretty sure his right arm was on the cusp of being broken
    from the blow of a mace to his elbow. Silas looked up, past the tree’s leaves
    and saw that the sky was still overcast. The cloudy sky made him realize what
    he had done was not the smartest or sanest thing he had done. He killed nearly
    40 men if he counted correctly. The thought made him cringe when it crossed his
    mind, but was slightly comforted by the cruel fact that it was war. Only about
    15 of the Rosemere Knights perished that day, but he could have easily been one
    of them. He was lucky that he did not lose an arm or leg, and was glad that he
    was able to simply fight alongside his fellow countrymen to ward off yet another
    invasion.

    Silas then realized what he really wanted. He wanted
    to fight nobly alongside likeminded people. Not a single soul knew what he had
    done that day, but he was completely fine with it. No one would ever know what
    the young farmer had hidden behind his hooded face, but the deeds themselves
    were good enough payment for his works.

    Silas continued to fight in wars for 4 more years.
    He gained experience in both small and large battles, and could fight
    toe-to-toe with every soldier that would fight for honor or was spawned from
    the deepest pits known to man. He began to feel invincible – from both skill
    and pride. His whole life, he tried his best to humble himself in everything he
    did. He knew he could do certain things possibly only a handful of other men
    could do in the world but he refused to admit it. When it came to battle,
    however, Silas could not contain himself. At first, he only accepted what was
    due to himself. He knew what he had done: he helped Rosemere become a
    prosperous castle and nearly doubled the area of Easthollow it took up in only
    4 years. He failed to stop at that unfortunately and began to assume he was the
    best there ever was.

    He figured he could defeat anyone in an honorable
    fight, be it the most prestigious knight, the most powerful magician, or the
    most vicious monster in the entire known world. Silas was confident that he would win, and refused to think otherwise. Even though he never was recognized
    for his deeds, he began to look down on others. He was already a quiet man, but
    he began to refuse to even give a new a face a passing glance assuming he was
    above them in the area of combat. This once humble, generous man became a proud
    and disinterested man.

    After the 20th major battle fought in, he
    began to truly reflect on his actions. In 4 years, Silas managed to kill
    hundreds – no, thousands – of men in combat. He always thought of this as an
    excellent accomplishment, and realized it was, but only to a knight. A knight,
    or any warrior whose official duty was to serve and protect deserved the right
    to kill in official combat. What Silas really was doing was equal to that of a
    random bandit. He was killing without official cause, and that was murder.
    Silas became nearly depressed, and became disinterested with life itself. He was
    bored with farming long, long ago, and the only thing that felt like it was
    giving a purpose was just shattered and began to give him the opposite feeling.

    He continued to fight, however, because it was the
    only thing he had left to do. He wanted to at least begin fighting with honor
    and dignity, so he confronted the captain of the Rosemere knights and requested
    to officially be a part of the Rosemerian forces. To his great surprise, he was
    accepted due to some of the leaders of the forces hearing of his exploits.

    The battle coming up was a battle against a far away
    tribe that consisted of many evil knights, monsters, and necromancers. It
    started as any other “normal” war would, but this one would prove different for
    Silas. He still managed to kill just as many, if not more enemies in a single
    battle than he ever had in a single battle, but the overwhelming power of the
    enemy soldiers proved too much. He was struck down by not one, two, or three,
    but 4 swords thrusted into his chest. He was never sure if it was due to his
    disinterest in battle, the psychology of actually being part of a side in
    battle, or his pride that caused him to fall. He would not even find out the
    sad fate that would come to his beloved kingdom and farmland due to his failure
    in battle. What he did know, however, was that it was all over. He defeated his
    fate. He was not destined to be just another peon in the cruel world of
    feudalism and chivalry. He beat the odds and practically became a knight,
    someone of nobility, before ending his nameless family due to not providing a
    male heir.

    His journey was not over, on the contrary. Perhaps
    from some necromancer from the enemy forces, he was turned undead. He was
    brought back still with his senses, but when he came to was not outside
    Rosemere’s castle walls. He was in a jail cell. For what, he did not know. He
    did not care, either. Maybe it was from losing part of his mental abilities
    from being turned, or maybe it was from the internal conflict he was going
    through before his death, but he truly felt like a zombie. For the longest time
    in that jail cell, he battled with himself to regain his wits, and he
    eventually did. He regained his focus – his original focus before falling to
    pride. He was humbled again, and was as attentive as ever. He never regained
    any of his memories, and was sad, however. Sadness overcame his thoughts and he
    fell back once again into a state of internal conflict.

    Now a ways into his journey, and after learning he
    was in the realm of Lordran, Silas is standing before a figure staring out into
    the distance. The figure is a man dressed in a beautiful armor, and has his
    back turned to Silas. Silas walked over to the man’s side with his cloak
    flowing in the wind and his hood covering most of his face. His scythe was
    still slung over his back, and gave him the strangest hint of comfort.

    “Ah,
    hello! You don’t look hollow, far from it!” the man dressed in the armor said.

    Silas looked to him from under his hood and then looked
    towards the sun, which was strangely both as bright as he ever remembered but
    not so bright as to hurt his eyes. He looked to the man in the armor again but
    with intent to pay attention this time.

    “I am Solaire of Astora, an adherent of the Lord of Sunlight.
    Now that I am Undead, I have come to this great land, the birthplace of Lord
    Gwyn, to seek my very own sun!
    … Do you find that strange? Well, you should!
    No need to hide your reaction. I get that look all the time!
    Hah hah hah!”

    For some reason, Silas felt comforted for the first time in a long time in both his live and undead lifetime. Talking to this man
    made him both remember and decide that it wasn’t too late to reach that state
    of nobility he longed for so long ago. And he now had all the time in the world
    to reach it, so he decided he would wait and see where fate took him this time
    around. He continued to listen to the man named Solaire.

    “The way I see it, our fates appear to be intertwined.
    In a land brimming with Hollows, could that really be mere change?
    So, what do you say? Why not help one another on this lonely journey?”

    Silas thought it over for a while and
    said, “Yes, yes that sounds good.”

    “And
    what is your name, new traveler?” Solaire asked him.

    Realizing
    he never introduced himself, he began to answer, but could not recall his name.
    He searched his own person for a telltale sign of identity, but to no avail. He
    then noticed a peculiar “x” sown into the fabric of his cloak on his right
    shoulder.

    Silas crooked a small smile from under
    his cloak, and said, “X…. my name is X.”
    avatar
    JeragiusTheSlayer


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    Character Bio Compendeum (Now Helmed by the Murgence) - Page 10 Empty A Man Named Jeragius

    Post by JeragiusTheSlayer Mon Dec 03, 2012 3:12 pm

    "There once was a man named Jeragius, who could not be beat"

    "He scoured the lands slaying any that stand his way"

    "But one day a tricky man locked him in a prison, and he has not been heard from since."

    - Old Rhyme



    Jeragius has the a face uglier than a dead drakes and always wears face covering Headgear

    Tall and thin he dodges well and alot

    He wears the Many different armor pieces all aquired from many different areas of which he has adventured and these are swapped out regularly



    Jeragius journal day 12

    "I came upon the ruins of the city New Londo and these damned ghost The sealer Ingward sold me some transient curses. Though it was rather hard to kill all of the ghosts that followed me up to him, Im currently trying to convince him to give me the key to the seal though he wont go for it proba"

    The rest of the page is blood splattered and unreadable

    Day 67

    "Ive been stuck in this cell or quite a while not sure if i'll ever get out"



    Day 68

    "Guard dropped a corpse in my cell im going to check it

    It had a key! the key to my cell finnally an escape!"



    "A man named Jeragius who could be beat many have tried but all have died he really is quite neat"


    Last edited by JeragiusTheSlayer on Mon Dec 03, 2012 4:29 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Unfinished)
    Acarnatia
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    Character Bio Compendeum (Now Helmed by the Murgence) - Page 10 Empty Re: Character Bio Compendeum (Now Helmed by the Murgence)

    Post by Acarnatia Thu Jan 10, 2013 12:22 pm

    Trychu, Welsh for 'to pierce, to hack, to hew, to amputate' and Gwirionedd, Welsh for 'truth, verity'. His name is an allusion to a 'Sword of Truth'.

    Trychu Gwirionedd (pronounced t-ri-ch, the gutteral sound Scottish people are famous for like at the end of loch, -ih g-weer-ee-on-eth)
    Age: 20
    Gender: Male
    Race: Astoran
    Hair: A mix of dark brown and gold, halfway down his neck and slightly shorter bangs
    Skin: Pale
    Eyes: brown with green-tint on the bottom
    Clothing: Ciaran's Mask, Chester's Longcoat, Traveller's Gloves, (Big Hat set) Heavy Boots
    Primary Weapons: Sunlight Straight Sword, Dragon/Crest Shield Ascended Pyromancy Flame+5, Beatrice's Catalyst (2), Black Knight Greatsword
    Trychu is a kind, young Astoran commoner with a sharp, absolute moral compass. He has no patience for lies and halve-truths, and is blatantly harsh towards liars




    Last edited by Acarnatia on Mon Mar 04, 2013 11:26 pm; edited 1 time in total
    DevilDuck26
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    Character Bio Compendeum (Now Helmed by the Murgence) - Page 10 Empty The Knight With No Name.

    Post by DevilDuck26 Sat Jan 26, 2013 5:55 pm

    Heres a character that i have created for this forum hope its okay. big grin
    Can anyone suggest what covenant would be vest to join thanks.


    The Knight With No Name, The One Knight, The Broken Soul.

    Appearence: 
    5"12, muscular build with broad shoulders, dirty face and hair.
    He has a thick black scar down his back from when his best friend Domhall of Zena stabbed him in the back due to jealousy.
    Hair color: black
    Eye color: blue
    He wears a one piece of armour from each of Gwyn's knights.
    Artorias' helm,
    Goughs' body armour,
    Cierans gauntlets,
    Ornsteins leggings.
    He treats each piece of his armour like a trophy, and hopes it will plant fear into the heart of any creature.

    Personality; extremely proud of his accomplishments and power, dispises all those who he deems weak.
    He loves a challenge and never rejects a  duel.
    He is easily corruptable when it comes to gaining power and surpassing others, although he does try to grasp onto the humanity left within him.
    He also is very determined and has one ultimate goal; to kill Gwyn.
    Prefers to work alone, but if it gets him closer to Gwyn, he will work with others.
    He hates Gwyn and Domhall of Zena.
    He is from Zena but most know him to be a lone hollow who ventured from the undead asylum in pilgrimage.
    He refuses to reveal his name as he despises who he once was, only domhall knows his name.

    In Combat: He is a skilled knight and has an incredible will power and willingness not to give up and can take great amounts of punishment.
    He wields a variety of weapons and chooses one to suit his current situation. 
    He likes to use the weapons of his fallen foes, they are (like his armour) considered trophies.
    He wields artorias' greatshield.
    Due to his varied armour he is neither  weak or resistant to magic, fire and lightning. 
    He has also started to delve into the art of pyromancies and the dark magic of the abyss as they are rather powerful tools in the right (or wrong) hands.

    Bio:
    The roar bellowed from the asylum to far away lands but within a matter of minutes the demon was silent and the knight claimed his prize; one of the famed titanite slabs.
    He ventured back to the surface and sheathed his sword and sighed; dissapointed that he hadnt been challenged.
    The lone knight laughed at the thought of who he once was.

    He had been the victor over countless demons, monsters, phantoms and humans, but four of those victories felt different, the souls... The souls of these humans felt... intertwined somehow?,
    Rather fitting for his broken soul.

    The knight grasped his sword and trudged forward through the snow and glanced at the rotting hollows, feeling pityful for the hollows he drew his sword from its hilt and quickly dealt with them.

    After all the souls he had taken he felt no more remorse of sadness just anger.
    The knight sat down to gather his thoughts and rest.
    An awful screech echoed from the far side of the asylum, the knight stood up and walked over to the creature which had made the noise; the crow, the crow which so long ago had taken the knight to the beginnings of his journey.

    Then out of the pit of the knights sore and beaten heart was a sharp flash of anger, he thought of all the things he had done and seen, confused to why he wasnt being honoured for it, why were lonely knights like him not looking up to grand statues of him and singing songs of glory and honour?, why not?
    He had slayed Gwyns four great knights, why didnt Gwyn approve of him! 

    The knight gazed down upon his sword and examined the blood smeared upon it  and the soul fragment next to him, he considered consuming them both, but no soul tastes better than a knights soul, a hero's soul, a lords' soul...

    Maybe it was time to show Gwyn what he had become, he had become the ONE knight, a knight with the strengths of the four greatest knights in history and the weakness' of neither, 

    His lips parted into an malicious grin, he walked over to the giant crows' nest and curled up into a tight ball , this was it! he was going to complete the final part of his journey, he would journey back to fire link shrine and kill the greatest lord of the souls; Gwyn, and then every soul in the history of lordran will tremble at the thought of the one knight who conquered all; 
    The Knight With No Name.
    Acarnatia
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    Post by Acarnatia Tue Mar 05, 2013 12:01 am

    Enaid Waleis. Enaid, 'soul, purity,' and Waleis, 'Welshman,' from Welsh, 'foreigner.'

    Name: Enaid Waleis. Pronounced En-aye-d W-ah-l-ah-s
    Gender: Male
    Age: 20
    Ethnicity: Astoran
    Skin: Slightly pale by Astoran standards, olive-toned
    Hair: Dark, slightly red-tinted brown with golden highlights
    Eyes: Green-tinted brown
    Clothing: Tunics, jackets and shawls. He likes fingerless gloves, Ciaran's Gaunlets, the Heavy Boots and Bringand's Trousers.
    Arms: Balder Side Sword, Sunlight Straight Sword, Crest Shield, Dragon Crest Shield, Balder Shield, Pyromancy Flame, Oolacile Ivory Catalyst/Beatrice's Catalyst
    Magic: Magic Weapon, Great Magic Weapon, Crystal Magic Weapon, Power Within, Chameleon. He specializes in placing magic inside of things and himself, rather than outside or creating blasts of magic.

    Enaid is a sweet, gentle soul who has become involved in events much grander and greater than his strength in Lordran. A lost, eternally uncertain young man, he was perhaps even more alien in his home of Astora. His natural intelligence was enough to rival the scholars of Vinheim, yet he had no desire to join them. Neither did the martial pursuits appeal to him, for such he viewed as murder that would always haunt him. Indeed, any skill and path he lacked.; lost he was, spending the last few years before he died searching for any path that suited him.

    And then he died.

    And then he became Undead.

    Enaid was caught and encaged in the Northern Undead Asylum, as were so many others who had the Darksign branded over his or her heart. A dying knight, Oscar, freed him and bade him to journey to Lordran and complete his quest. And upon arriving, he
    Upon reaching Lordran his world became darker yet. Murder became necessary for his survival, and the deeper he dived into the lands of Fire and Dark, the greater his anxiety became. All sides had lied; all sides were malignant, and it was his potential to become the greatest monster of all. And even still he holds the greatest light in the Dark: hope.
    Soris Ice Goldwing
    Soris Ice Goldwing
    Lordvessel
    Lordvessel


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    Post by Soris Ice Goldwing Sun Mar 31, 2013 3:49 am

    About Time I did this. Sorry for the font size I copied this from Word and I can't seem to correct it right.


    Soris Ice
    GoldWing



    It all started with a chilly night, and now I
    fight for her and justice
    .






    Name: Soris Ice Goldwing, prefers Soris, called Sory by Cirno to
    his annoyance.







    Appearance: 5’8ft or 1.76784meters in height, Thorolound race. A
    strong build of upper and lower body strength and a small scar shaped as a
    snowflake the left side of his chest. His face is always covered with a helmet
    so no one really knows what he looks like now, all that is known is that his
    left eye has since turned cyan since the “event”. As for his age, since no one
    seen his face so people naturally think he is at least 34 from his knowledge and
    what he says and most people outside of Lordran are afraid to ask. In reality he
    is 23 but after the “event” his lifespan has increased to near immortality and
    he has stopped showing signs of age so it is of no importance to him
    anymore.






    The story of the cold damned:





    Soris, who was born Soris Goldwing was the son of semi-wealthy
    family in the southern regions of Thorolound in the far outskirts from the large
    town of Rosenburg, a town known for its roses and strange ability to produce
    strong knights and clerics who hunt undead and those of magic. Soris’ father was
    a retired veteran knight of Thorolund who like many men in the family, once went
    to Lordran and became well known for saving a group of clerics from a hoard of
    hollow alone during his third trip there. He then spent his time training the
    recruits and making holy weapons, a skill passed from each Goldwing to the next.
    His mother was an intelligent woman who, though was a high priestess, spent her
    time raising Soris as any normal mother would but also taught him the art of
    healing, something her family knew very well. His mother and father met during
    his mother’s first trip to see what Lordran was like and find the right of
    kindling. Though unsuccessful the two fell in love, married and months later
    gave birth to Soris.






    Now Soris was a strange child in Rosenburg. Born as a healthy
    infant, his health started to slip during his first five years. It was said that
    his mother spent those five years in the Goldwing estate personally using her
    healing skills to save her son, even going as far to use the family sacred
    talisman, a talisman of great miracle power, to save him. When he did recover,
    he was a weak child but had already a mind three years ahead of his age group
    from his mother who taught everything she thought he needed while his father,
    though a little sad by his weak son, taught Soris battle tactics and how to
    wield a sword a little as a time. Till Soris was nine his life was nothing
    interesting, while his grades excelled and his character had a way of making
    people feel better, his physical weakness made him unable to start training as a
    knight like his ancestors. Instead he became a healer in training for his mother
    in the town’s church and an apprentice to his father for his workshop, by
    managing the shop. Doing these things made Soris a known face to the public, but
    it was not something he wanted entirely. Soris really wanted to become a knight
    like his father and one day travel to Lordran. Soris was not stupid with Lordran
    however, his father had traveled there five times and told stories of his
    dangers there and those of past Goldwings, including one who spent years in
    Rosenburg as an undead before leaving when he started going hollow. That
    Goldwing was Soris’ great-grandfather, who was finally put to rest by his father
    on his first trip to Lordran. Soris dreamed of one day becoming a knight and
    then started doing that. Each day he would take his training sword and go into
    the nearby forest during the night, which was off-limits in Rosenburg to anyone
    without being granted entranced by Rosenburg’s count, and train close till the
    moon was almost gone. It was a slow thing till one chilly night changed his life
    forever.






    Now the reason was the forest off-limits was a strange one. The
    forest in times past was once used as a rite of passage for knight-errants and
    new clerics because simply hollows would be wandering around mindlessly. However
    that changed five years before Soris was born when something only deemed magical
    happened. During one night a sudden burst of strong magic ran through the forest
    and Rosenburg and put the town in full alert. The count ordered no one enter
    there but five young stubborn squires decided to prove their worth and went into
    the forest. What happened in there was describe as horrifying, the entire town
    heard was screaming, and what sounded like large shards of ice hitting them. Had
    it not been for a healing cleric running to get them out, those squires would
    have died of frostbite and bleeding from cold wounds. That mourning a scout
    troop reported that much of the forest from the deeper parts had been frozen and
    that the Hollows had all been frozen, broken and the squires told of some blue
    mage telling them to stay out. From then on the forest was called the Forest of
    frozen death.






    Now as to why did Soris go train in the forest was anybody’s
    guess, but most people who are ask agree was the risk. He never really did
    anything dangerous and this was something he could get away with. Soris was very
    careful of course, since the family estate was close to the forest, he could get
    into and out the forest fast and always went on a full moon so he can see
    anything dangerous, as there were still Hollows wandering. It was a regular
    thing Soris did when he was nine till that one night. It was a full moon in mid
    spring and like every full moon Soris snuck out of the estate without being seen
    and went into the forest. Though it was a cold night he went in his favorite
    spot that was in a deep part of the forest, far away from sight. After half an
    hour passed he heard something deep within the forest, the sounds of ice and a
    girl’s voice saying “How weak you are!” Wondering who that was and if that was
    the blue mage Soris took off following the noises. After a bit of wandering
    Soris found to his amazement a girl perhaps three or five years older than him
    use magic of ice and destroy a small hoard of Hollows by herself. However one
    strangler saw Soris and went after him and Soris, using a simple training sword
    of weak iron thought two things: He was going to become undead, and that the
    Hollow was going to die with him, and Soris put everything he knew and charged
    it. As it turned out that more were coming and the when girl saw Soris she
    rushed at him. Instead of attacking him, she grabbed and froze his sword, making
    it light and sharp and said “Let’s see who kills the most of these monsters!” At
    first Soris was stunned, having been raised to hate magic, but that was not
    important and he and the girl teamed up to kill the hollows. Rumors say at least
    fifty Hollows were killed but Soris and Cirno say it there was only thirteen,
    and that Cirno was going easy.






    After the Hollows were dead Soris, who put way more energy he
    had, nearly collapsed but used an herb he found that restored stamina. The girl
    seemed to have been enjoying the whole event, probably because she was strong
    and he changed things for her. Still Soris wondered who was she? Those squires
    were not lying about a blue mage she was quite blue: Her eyes, hair, her outfit
    were all blue, but what struck him were her wings. She had wings of ice and
    could fly. Soris had no time to think on it since the girl came up to him and
    started talking to him about his is not bad for a human and wanted to know his
    name. After he introduced himself the called herself Cirno, the strongest being
    alive, and started asking him just where was she and that this was not her home.
    From then on the two started long conversations about where Cirno was from,
    where she is now and just what was she killing for so long. As
    the two talked they got closer and decided to become friends and agreed to do
    some things for each other. Cirno promised to capture some Hollows for Soris to
    train on, help his physical weakness, and teach him some ice magic if Soris
    would return every half to full moon, teach her the nature of her new world,
    bring some food and find someone to repair her clothes. The two shook on it and
    a new found friendship was struck.






    Since then Soris made it a must to keep returning to the forest
    to see Cirno and train on the Hollows she caught for him to use. Many years past
    like this and throughout that time things began to change in the forest,
    Rosenburg, and of course Soris and Cirno. Due to Cirno finding Hollows for to
    kill deeper in the forest, people started travelling on the roads closer to the
    forest and Soris’ father’s smithing was becoming more famous as time went on. As
    the years past Soris found himself in the Town’s knight academy as a member of
    the newly formed elite group. Soris was proud he finally made his goal real.
    However something was to go wrong forever: a test to kill his best friend Cirno.
    Soris and the other elites were to put an end to the frozen forest for good when
    he was 22 and Soris had warned her to get away as fast as she could, however the
    other found her. What happened afterword went like
    this.












    “She is just a child sir! We can’t just kill her!” Shouted Soris.
    “Quite Soris! She has been a threat for years and is obviously undead! She’s
    likely stealing humanity form us with her blasted magic!” Said
    another elite. “Hey I’m not an undead idiot!” Cirno getting annoyed said. “Why
    you little…” a knight raised his blade to strike. “NO!” Soris had stopped the
    knight by severing his hand. “Traitor!” Everyone shouted. Soris looked at what
    he did with a heavy sign of displeasure, he will always be hunted by the very
    people he once loved. Everyone but Cirno he thought. “Fine. You knights and
    clerics who fight for the Flame are nothing but sinful fiends who care for
    nothing but to get your blasted flame back at any cost! To dare harm a child for
    your own prejudice against what you can’t understand is a warrant of death!”
    Soris said as he knows saw the hypocrisy of his own people and attacked all the
    knights with what he had learned since he met
    Cirno.






    In the end, most of those “knights” had been killed or fled for
    their lives but Soris had fallen as well, only to be saved by some magic and the
    thing he dreaded the most: becoming undead. “How could the very people I once
    trusted be as ignorant as strike a child who wields magic in the name of the
    gods?” He said aloud. As he turn Cirno said “Hey I’m not a child any more than
    you!” with an angry look. Soris smiled and said “Well you look like one. Now
    then we can’t stay here anymore as they will hunt
    us.”






    With a puzzling
    look he said “I think our best option is to head to Lordran. It will be safe and
    I can keep you safe and hunt down those clerics.” Cirno was a bit sad but
    understood enough after those years with Soris when he could barely fight and
    from him teaching her about her new home. Then she realized he said hunt clerics
    and said “Wait why and how?” Soris looked away to the road ahead and said “I
    read in a old book I found that somewhere in Lordran there was a god who ruled
    over justice and followers who hunted sinners. Knowing how these “men of Gwyn”
    are so sinful I think it would be a wise idea to join the god and serve justice
    against the guilty. Hopefully I should also gain the strength to defend you.
    Despite your power you are not as strong against large numbers.” And with that
    the two gave mad but funny looks at each other and started towards their new
    home with a new purpose.







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    Post by User1 Sun Mar 31, 2013 6:47 am

    I, sadly enough, can't think of a story to tell, but these are all great! Well done guys!
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    Post by VMatrixX Wed Apr 03, 2013 10:35 am

    Name: Cahlem (Car-lem)
    Weapon of choice: Halberd, +15

    Gear: Hollow thief hood, Dark armour, Witch gloves, Dark leggings, Lighting notched whip +5 (Offhand), Charcoal pine resin x99, Rotten pine resin x99

    Build: http://mmdks.com/1pfz

    Covenant: Exiled of Ariamis

    Back Story:
    Once, a long, long time ago, Cahlem was a knight and protector of New Londo. But on the dreaded day when the 4 kings were corrupted by the power of lifedrain, Cahlem along with his brothers in arms were changed into terrible beasts, with an everlasting hunger for humanity.
    Though Cahlem’s transformation was not the same as the other knight’s, he kept the size and build of a human, and retained most of his former emotions and awareness. This resulted in Cahlem being considered a runt by many wraiths. Cahlem needed to find a way to gain respect among his brothers. Luckily, Cahlem had once heard a story about a legendary beast created through Seaths mad experimentation on crossbreeding. Legend has it he created a beautiful half-human half-dragon hybrid equal in elegance and lethality with the unique ability of lifehunt, a power that can be used to kill Gods. But the only way to enter her domain is through a large painting in Anor Londo, with a peculiar doll as the key. The doll was the toy of the beast when she was but a child. Cahlem, wanting the lifehunt powersto prove he was the mightiest wraith in Lordron, set out on a quest to slay the crossbreed.

    After years of searching all of Lordron, from the wretched depths of Blighttown to the grand cathedrals of Anor Londo, he finally found the doll in the northern undead asylum on a corpse in a cell. With the doll in hand he touched the painting in the grand room of Anor Londo and was sucked into the bleak world of Ariamis. After fighting through hordes of monsters, Cahlem reached the crossbreed’s fog wall. He braced himself for an epic battle and entered…

    There she stood, calm, with a sad expression on her face, Cahlem was in awe at the sight of the creature’s beauty. Cahlem dropped his weapon in awe and walked towards the figure “Who are you?” He spoke, trembling slightly. “I am Priscilla, guardian of this plain. Leave undead, you do not belong here” Cahlem was strangely attracted to Priscilla, and he changed his mind about slaying her, instead bowing at her feet. She spoke again “You are wise for an undead, but you must hurry home. Plunge down from the plank and return to the place from where you came”

    Cahlem nodded, picked up his halberd and jumped into the darkness. Back at New Londo, Cahlem explained what had happened to the other wraiths, but no one took notice of him. Eventually they became tired of his story being repeated over and over… so they killed Cahlem, leaving his body at Firelink shrine.
    He was angry and frustrated when he was resurrected at first, but then he smiled: “…Now that I have been exiled from the wraiths, I can reside with Milady in her world, and keep her company… “

    Cahlem was sitting around the bonfire in the painted world when a figure walked up to him and spoke “You don’t belong here, what is your purpose here?” Cahlem kept quiet. The figure spoke again “If you came here out of exile like the rest of us, then why don’t you lend us a hand by keeping our queen from those how may harm her. A covenant with our lady, of sorts” Cahlem stood up, and extended his arm to the figure. They then shook hands and Cahlem spoke “I will join you and your brothers, but what do we call ourselves?”
    The figure smiled “The Exiled of Ariamis, now come… there is much to discuss…”


    Last edited by VMatrixX on Fri Apr 05, 2013 2:03 pm; edited 2 times in total
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    Post by Emergence Tue Apr 09, 2013 7:01 pm

    Ok I commandeered this thread and I will be adding and organizing new bios as they are entered here. This is too useful and creative of a resource to go without a loving hand, and making the edits into the OP won't be too difficult for me. I'll add the topic to my watch list. If anyone needs to swap affiliations just say so.
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    Post by robsthedon Wed Apr 10, 2013 10:15 am

    Emergence wrote:Ok I commandeered this thread and I will be adding and organizing new bios as they are entered here. This is too useful and creative of a resource to go without a loving hand, and making the edits into the OP won't be too difficult for me. I'll add the topic to my watch list. If anyone needs to swap affiliations just say so.

    Cool, I added something a while back, but wasn't sure if it was an active thread or not.

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