Preferably drow, lawful evil. But barring that...
Aren't you sorry you asked? This is the very last RP character I played, about seven years ago. Yes, the writing is chaos and not that great. Suffer!
Name: Chant Fell
Title: Faith Betrays
Race: Humanoid...
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Height: 5' 11"
Hair: Midnight Blue
Eyes: Pale Grey
Birthplace: The now-desolate and deserted plane of Oduas.
Profession: Drifter, rift mage, obsolete monk.
Other: Carries very little of worth, aside from the chains of his ancestry. Still wears the old garb of his station, prefers lightweight robes, and carries a small amount of currency.
Bio: Oduas was a planet ruled by the bonds of faith, its populace peaceful for the most part, and there was a divinity that had hand in every facet of life. When the Reclaimation drew near at last, there was much rejoicing and expectation of the glorious incour of Eden. However, as with all things, this Reclaimation was beset with struggles and evils untold that crept to pinnacles of insurmountable fates at the end of days, withering the calls to eternity like flowers set ablaze and perverting the worship of their Lord Adon to a sinister and grotesque nature. Their once mighty Lord, whose hold upon his flock ever died and dwindled and escaped his grasp as all the power that granted his once-null existence, life and service and substance to govern his believers, became as threads as the deceivers cut his reins and cried out and stole his thoughts and sewed the seeds of another among his people, and wars, holy wars were founded as the people fought each other in confusion, and allegiances were obscured and murky, and in the midst of all this rose a dark Shepherd to divinity and equalment of his nemesis, master of old. Evolution failed.
Tosumanter was stern and unwavering, an untainted priest of Adon, he rallied his people and pulled the wool from their eyes, that they could see the Shepherd for what he was, but it was not enough. Faith had fallen, the battles raged on, and the people diminished in every hour by thousands. And finally the Shepherd himself struck down Adon in the last hours when he was weakest and parched of belief. The Reclaimation became a cataclysm and nothing and no-one was left unbroken is some way, and the enormous energies birthed from centuries of belief and thought, the very power that spawned the Lord's creation and sentience, surged and erupted across the land as he was destroyed and the energies were set free in violent torrents so terrible they brought the Shepherd's own demise. In some places among the land, the energy flittered like magik, and there were strange transitions between ethereal and corporeal world. Out of some of these rifts sped demons and horrors that devoured. Into others fled the people, the survivors of Oduas seeking the refuge of anywhere, the elsewhere.
Godless, in a world filled with atrocities and burning away in agony, and a heart that could take no more, Tosumanter stepped through one such abysmal eddy and found himself in another place, another plane. He spent several days wandering aimless, in the bicanthiary place that found him, a world not at all like his own, and he had several revelations: There were no gods, there were no divinities. They existed because man willed them to exist with the strength of their minds. Existence reflected on itself, but the Universe was no mirror. One could reach beyond the glass and touch, and change, the visions and creations that were buried within, but nothing was finite, nothing was countable, nothing could be trusted. Strength of will sculpted the world and yet faith would only betray.
So here he was, a fallen priest in a strange new land, things awakening inside him. He had a strange aura in this place, and he felt the energies swirling in himself and lusted to harness them. The people here regarded him uneasily, they knew not of his path and he would not tell of it, he was an outcast in every sense. He traveled and took food where he could, slept in the darkest corners of night, his hair grew long and the colors of his robes faded through many a sunbathed day. At times he would venture near one of the abysmal transitions and step through, sometimes disappearing in front of a crowd of bewildered onlookers into nothing, then reappearing a few minutes later, back from a dead land or a burning desert or making haste from some Hell-spawned creature of malice. Always, he waited in anticipation at the other side, for the horrors to come charging through, but never did they. Something in this realm prevented their passing, and that was good. These people were lucky they couldn't venture beyond their own world themselves.
Tosumanter has claimed a new name, awakened a sleeping perception in himself, and changed his outlook on the world. He serves neither good nor ill, but rather his own curiosity and the glint of coin.
Aren't you sorry you asked? This is the very last RP character I played, about seven years ago. Yes, the writing is chaos and not that great. Suffer!
Name: Chant Fell
Title: Faith Betrays
Race: Humanoid...
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Height: 5' 11"
Hair: Midnight Blue
Eyes: Pale Grey
Birthplace: The now-desolate and deserted plane of Oduas.
Profession: Drifter, rift mage, obsolete monk.
Other: Carries very little of worth, aside from the chains of his ancestry. Still wears the old garb of his station, prefers lightweight robes, and carries a small amount of currency.
Bio: Oduas was a planet ruled by the bonds of faith, its populace peaceful for the most part, and there was a divinity that had hand in every facet of life. When the Reclaimation drew near at last, there was much rejoicing and expectation of the glorious incour of Eden. However, as with all things, this Reclaimation was beset with struggles and evils untold that crept to pinnacles of insurmountable fates at the end of days, withering the calls to eternity like flowers set ablaze and perverting the worship of their Lord Adon to a sinister and grotesque nature. Their once mighty Lord, whose hold upon his flock ever died and dwindled and escaped his grasp as all the power that granted his once-null existence, life and service and substance to govern his believers, became as threads as the deceivers cut his reins and cried out and stole his thoughts and sewed the seeds of another among his people, and wars, holy wars were founded as the people fought each other in confusion, and allegiances were obscured and murky, and in the midst of all this rose a dark Shepherd to divinity and equalment of his nemesis, master of old. Evolution failed.
Tosumanter was stern and unwavering, an untainted priest of Adon, he rallied his people and pulled the wool from their eyes, that they could see the Shepherd for what he was, but it was not enough. Faith had fallen, the battles raged on, and the people diminished in every hour by thousands. And finally the Shepherd himself struck down Adon in the last hours when he was weakest and parched of belief. The Reclaimation became a cataclysm and nothing and no-one was left unbroken is some way, and the enormous energies birthed from centuries of belief and thought, the very power that spawned the Lord's creation and sentience, surged and erupted across the land as he was destroyed and the energies were set free in violent torrents so terrible they brought the Shepherd's own demise. In some places among the land, the energy flittered like magik, and there were strange transitions between ethereal and corporeal world. Out of some of these rifts sped demons and horrors that devoured. Into others fled the people, the survivors of Oduas seeking the refuge of anywhere, the elsewhere.
Godless, in a world filled with atrocities and burning away in agony, and a heart that could take no more, Tosumanter stepped through one such abysmal eddy and found himself in another place, another plane. He spent several days wandering aimless, in the bicanthiary place that found him, a world not at all like his own, and he had several revelations: There were no gods, there were no divinities. They existed because man willed them to exist with the strength of their minds. Existence reflected on itself, but the Universe was no mirror. One could reach beyond the glass and touch, and change, the visions and creations that were buried within, but nothing was finite, nothing was countable, nothing could be trusted. Strength of will sculpted the world and yet faith would only betray.
So here he was, a fallen priest in a strange new land, things awakening inside him. He had a strange aura in this place, and he felt the energies swirling in himself and lusted to harness them. The people here regarded him uneasily, they knew not of his path and he would not tell of it, he was an outcast in every sense. He traveled and took food where he could, slept in the darkest corners of night, his hair grew long and the colors of his robes faded through many a sunbathed day. At times he would venture near one of the abysmal transitions and step through, sometimes disappearing in front of a crowd of bewildered onlookers into nothing, then reappearing a few minutes later, back from a dead land or a burning desert or making haste from some Hell-spawned creature of malice. Always, he waited in anticipation at the other side, for the horrors to come charging through, but never did they. Something in this realm prevented their passing, and that was good. These people were lucky they couldn't venture beyond their own world themselves.
Tosumanter has claimed a new name, awakened a sleeping perception in himself, and changed his outlook on the world. He serves neither good nor ill, but rather his own curiosity and the glint of coin.
