Name: "Jericho Kaite" (Kaitra J. Elzbrn)
Race: Half-Elf
Apparent Age: 25
Actual Age: 45
[Hider=Appearance][img]http://orig15.deviantart.net/bdd5/f/2015/181/9/9/5e3bf55face47e3a3d03d02c06044520_by_aheurung-d8zg7am.jpg[/img][/hider]
Current Profession: Marauding Black Knight
[u]Equipment[/u]
-Steel roundshield (blacksteel front with signs of a crest that had been pried out and filed down to unrecognizable scuffs)
-Masterwork longsword
-Silver shortsword (sheathed in shield)
-The remnants of The Black Knight of Ispar's Thornplate and shield
[Hider=Qualities]Left-Handed - Most combat styles are meant to combat against right-handed wielders. The left-handed combat style can sometimes catch humanoid-type opponents off guard.

Hearty- Being born and raised in the cold of Ispar, Kaite has undergone strenuous sparring and is disciplined to shrug off most superficial injuries as well as hosting a stark resiliency to cold. Kaite is surprisingly strong and agile for her build (You won't see her doing much acrobatics, but a 1v1 fight is greatly discouraged)

Elven lineage- Elves learn at a young age of their detachment from the dreamlands. Forced to enter a trance state to sort their emotions and memories, Kaitra has retained a firm hold of her memories.
= Eyes rapidly adjust to lower light settings although pitch black is still pitch black.[/hider]
[hider=Tactics]Brawler Stance- While Kaite is most lethal with a shortsword in her offhand, she often substitutes with her shield to serve the purpose of a weapon as well as its obvious defensive advantages. By assailing foes with stunning bashes and punishing punches with the spiked pommel of the lock-sheathed shortsword, the greatest threat remains to be the keen edge of her longsword...assuming her enemies can stay focused long enough to defend themselves from the rapid and calculated vorpal stabs.

Skirmisher Stance- Drawing her shortsword after latching her shield to her backplate (Covers the shoulderplates and up, connecting to her pauldrons(The addition of the shield protects her flank)), she often opens engagements with this stance with powerful sweeping strikes with her longsword and following up with offhand slashes to punish reeling foes. Of this stance, her favourite tactic is to catch unwary or underprepared targets with a flurry of stabs in the hopes of overwhelming the target and ending the encounter as quickly as possible. Capitalizing on deep strikes, Kaite often follows up with stunning shoulder/hip(or pecks from her visor) bashes which utilize her armor's spikes before aiming to finish the fight with a full-body slash from both weapons, simultaneously.[/hider]
Demeanor: Brave if not a pinch foolhardy, Kaitra's chosen exile and lack of meaningful communication in the process has made her a little socially awkward. Slow to get jokes, though toting her own morbid sense of humor combined with the way she carries herself, she can be unintentionally off-putting at times. She believes herself to be on the side of good, although the long term manipulation from her cursed armor has done wonders to skew how she perceives the world. Aimless and hopeless are words worth mentioning; without family, home or reason, her mission to 'redeem' herself has led her into fairly unsavory endeavors that left her callused to the main staples of chivalry. The guilt, shame and ensuing isolation led to her eventual fall and possession by her armor.
[hider=Biography] [color=8493ca]There began a legend in the frozen reaches of the province of Ispar some twenty years ago; a romance between a scholar of renown and a blacksmith. I remember watching mother train father with the sword. Sometimes the bark of wooden swords upon each other would wake me in the morning and I would watch their dance. He wasn't much, physically, heh...but he loved to cheat. With his magic, that is. The air would ripple as what would cost him the duel turned into flourishes that mother wasn't even capable of.
Love bound them, even after my brother was killed by the guard over petty theft.
I didn't see much of father after that, and one day, he simply never returned. Mother told me that he had left to settle the score with the man who put my brother up to the task. Soon afterwards, she wished for me to let her train me to be as good of a knight as father had come to be, so that I may use it to do good unto the world where evil would manifest as your friend from birth...
I'd received my fair share of lumps and scratches from training, but I wore them like medals. I knew what I was doing, and so did the guard who thought I could benefit more from 'proper' training. Unlike my classmates, my first kill didn't come until it was far too late for me to learn the weight of my actions.

There was a rumor of a man clad in ebony black steel who wielded both sword and magic to accost students who hoped to make pilgrimage to the universities of Ispar. Convinced that the lead I had was solid, I hunted the rogue knight. I was certain, at first, that is was just a spook story of a bandit chieftain...until I was knee deep in my men's blood and charred remains. Every swing the man took was deliberate and calculated, though I was never harmed. This was a mistake I capitalized on...and a mistake on my end which proved to be my own undoing.
There did lie in the suit of steel, my father. I was so foolish, barely over myself to be able to hear anything he said. Angry, ashamed...I rejected him in the moment. I'm sure he had a reason for his actions. Rage against the town and wanting to ward off travelers in the hopes to cripple the economy? Senile descent? Inlaced evil? Some combination?
Before I could collect myself enough to ask, he was gone...leaving me in a field of scarlet-stained snow and a half tattered suit of my father's armor.
I stole what I could...and that's how the story truly ends. There was no heroic death and sacrificing of a maiden soul to appease a demonic debt. No heads on pikes...and no songs that could do the event justice. The mystery simply left with me, and my ice and snow veil the truth forever.[/color]
Her travels from port would lead Kaite through various odd jobs dealing with bandits along the way where her craft was more thoroughly honed. Ultimately, she seeks redemption for a family name she has long since abandoned. Lack of most motivation, she's partially given in to the will of the armor to seek out challenges.
Wherever they may hide, and wherever her subconscious can be manipulated to look. [/hider]

[hider=Miniboss version]
[color=gray]Name: The Black Knight of Ispar
Encounter: Frost leeches the green from the flora of the clearing where a lone figure stands, leveling a sword in slow but deliberate motions. With the crunch of icy dew underfoot, the figure sways drunkenly, abandoning their stance to contort. Leaning back, the glint of blue teases a hint of the knight's features before narrowing their eyes to a glare before their visor snaps shut on its own. A popping noise resonates from the trees and the ground, itself, as the frost that once permeated the area pulls up their greaves and coats their armor. Branches fall from the mangled trees having been exposed to the snap frost and what had once been an albeit lush section of the forest rapidly wilts and dies in the process.
Their body follows the motions as they turn towards the group, clanging their sword against their shield with a dull chime. The frost blows away in a soft cloud of steam which traces along a nearly invisible cuirass that begins to manifest as an ink-black aura, distorting the air around them as they raise their sword and shield and approach to engage. The darkness from the cuirass spreads across the rest of the figure which steeps wisps of black mist. "P-please...please stay back..." they groan in a hopeless tone layered with over-recited lethargy.

[u]Moves[/u]
Aggrieve - The knight opens the engagement after being acknowledged by their target with a charge leading up to a concussive shield bash aided by the spikes of their armor to separate the most intimidating challenger from the others. This may be followed up with wide swings to attempt to antagonize as much of the party as they can reach. While not very powerful and shaky with a lack of motivation, the sword is still quite sharp.

Echos of Guilt - While magic still does damage to the Knight, the spirits in the armor feed off of magic essence to the point of being released in a close blast of darkness and frost. This is mostly focused in a wide cone from their shield focused on nearby melee combatants and is followed up by 'Accost'.

Accost - Towards the middle of the fight, the Knight tosses their shield into the air, grabbing the handle of the sword sheathed in the shield. From here they single out a healer or nearest caster (or any that resonate with divine energy) to pitch the shield at in the attempt to disorient them long enough to set up for a full-body uppercut from their longsword. The move leaves the Knight open while recovering from their own swing, although now they are in their preferred stance. 

Eol Repth - Towards the end of the fight, the mist blows away into a localized fog for 1 round before being drawn in, healing the Knight. However, this exposes the cuirass...and the eye in the middle of its chest. Defeating the armor by utilizing the weak spot banishes the spirit, releasing its hold on Kaitra. 

A meek amount of life is pushed back into the terrain. It will take time, but maybe the scar of this day will be healed by nature's perseverance. Abandoned by her power, rejecting her for her defeat, Kaitra is weakened until able to 'prove herself' to the armor. This is a process that may never happen, again.[/color][/hider]