[hider=Sarai (Complete)][b]Name:[/b] Sarai

[b]Age:[/b] 17

[b]Gender:[/b] Female

[b]Race:[/b] Human

[b]Titles:[/b] [i](These titles are known only to a niche few, who are familiar with her story)[/i]

	Death's Favored Friend 

	The Reapers Daughter

	Maiden of Lisandris 

[b]Appearance:[/b] 
[center][img]http://i.neoseeker.com/ca/stranger_of_sword_city_conceptart_Xr8rN.jpg[/img][/center]

[b]Weapons:[/b] A silver dagger.

[b]Steed:[/b] N/A

[b]Abilities:[/b] 

Sarai was born with an innate sense of feeling the cycle of life and death, such that it has given her an affinity with the living dead, among other abilities.

	Ballad of Death - Weakens all living (not undead) creatures within audible distance of her voice. Undead within reach gain strength with every note. The longer she sings, the more undead will begin to gravitate towards her, making it possible for her to pull large crowds of lesser undead towards her location. Plugged ears nullify this ability.

	Death Pact - Mindless undead will not touch her unless she strikes them first. Undead with rational minds will find it hard to approach her with ill intent, but can overcome the compulsion with effort.

	Transfer Vitality - Sarai can mediate the life forces between two creatures, living or undead, making it possible for her to transfer wounds and illnesses between the two. If she pushes herself, she can do this between whole groups. Needs skin contact for this to work.

[b]Talents:[/b] 

	She can sing beautifully, mostly ballads and mourning tunes.

	She can sketch.

	Able to cook great food . . . so long as it involves meat.	

[b]Magic:[/b]	
	
	Sarai is a capable healer, combining her natural abilities with training she received from the monastery; however, this is just a cover up for her true affinity.
	Sarai is a talented Necromancer, able to summon and control about twenty lesser undead at a time, or even some Lesser Wraiths. At most, Sarai can command a single Revenant with difficulty. 
	Sarai has had no formal training with Necromancy whatsoever, and everything she can do in relation to the practice is purely instinctive.

[b]Backstory:[/b] 

	Sarai was - and still is - a girl born to love death. Every aspect of it, she has embraced. Born to a noble family in the City-Fort of Lisandry, outside of Iron Coast, she immediately proved to be an unusual child. Pets that she loved in life stayed with her long past their expiry date. Back at her manor, the unburied corpses of her pets kept her company, and frightened the whole household. She would talk to them, play with them, and act as though nothing had changed between them. 
	Once, on the eve of her fifth birthday, the chamberlain of the household witnessed Sarai in the act of raising the dead - a skill that has long been the subject of persecution under the empire since the dawn of Magnor Dragonblade. Her parents, in an effort to conceal her abilities and hide the disgrace that was their eldest daughter, sent her to a monastery to be trained as a healer for five years. Ironically, this did nothing but further enhance Sarai's potential as a budding necromancer. 
	The more she learned about preserving life, the more she learned about bringing about death. The teachings of the monastery's healers proved to her that life and death were not a cycle, merely a straight line, with one stage following the next. She began making no distinctions between the living and the dead.
	The monastery elders, upon learning that she had simply gotten worse, attempted to curb her fascination with the dead by introducing her to the land of Iron Coast, where the greatest and most terrible necromancer to ever surface preformed the greatest feats of necromancy to ever behold the land, and with it, the atrocities that followed. For seven long years, they lectured her on the terror of undeath, and the lives of people that must be respected, all the while furthering her training as a Healer.

	Needless to say, this backfired horribly.

	Sarai was more enraptured than ever with the concepts of life, death, and undeath. She struck a deal with the head of her order: In return for helping out all those that would go to Iron Coast to end the threat of a burgeoning army of undead, under the command of a suspected Wraith, she would accompany them to those lands of death. Hands tied and unable to think of anything more to do for her, she was given their blessings, and now roams among the many adventurers and would-be heroes on their way to the Dead-lands, free to practice her art as she wished.

[b]Starting Location:[/b] Actium[/hider]
[hr]
[hider=Thorn (Complete)][b]Name:[/b] Thorn

[b]Creature Race:[/b] Revenant (however, his mind is less coherent than that of his peers)

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Undeath Age:[/b]  40

[b]Appearance:[/b] 
[center][img]http://sharedweave.ca/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/21598skull.jpg[/img][/center]

	Thorn is a massive revenant, a testament to his build and strength in life. He stands just shy of 7ft, with large hands and wide shoulders. He is constantly armored and rarely ever takes off his helmet. Underneath his steel, however, is a desperate and weary face, set upon decaying flesh.

[b]Abilities:[/b] 

	While Thorn was already inhumanly strong in life, death has augmented it to mythic levels; such that it is entirely possible for Thorn to tear his own body down due to the stress of it. Another ability he has been cursed with is an inability to feel pain from normal weapons and magic.

[b]Talents:[/b] 

	In life, Thorn was a warrior that charged into battle with the terrifying combination of battle-tested instinct, raw power, and skill. Now, in death, he brings this all with him augmented by the powers undeath has granted him. Still, these great skills of his is hampered by frequent bouts of madness where he can no longer distinguish between past and present.

[b]Weapons:[/b] 

	A regular flanged mace and two-handed sword. Despite the years, they have been meticulously cared for and still retain their luster and sharpness.

[b]Steed:[/b] 

	A large, armored war horse that was Thorn's boon companion in life, now following him in death.

[b]Magic:[/b] 

	While before, he could use various magics, now he cannot. All that remains is his most prized ability: he can enchant his steel to cut through magic and prevent it from touching him. Unfortunately, this magic is 'holy' based, so with every use he burns himself. Not to mention that he can heal living creatures using holy magic, which is even [i]more[/i] deadly to him.

[b]The Tale of a Corpse:[/b] 

	Before Thorn came to be, was Thomas. Thomas was born in a hamlet nearby Actium, and his youth was marked by poverty and chaos. Though he was born during the height of the Empire's - and, conversely Iron Coast's - prosperity, he was one of the few that did not benefit from it. His father was terrible with money, as he was oft to use whatever meager pay he had earned cleaning the harbors at the gambling tables. His mother was no better. The daughter of a wealthy merchant who had eloped, she grew embittered at the lack of money and romance in her life, and took it out on her son. Thomas, for his part, grew to become a thief and troublemaker. He constantly got into trouble - with the law, with other street rats like himself - until one day, trouble had come around and had gotten into [i]him[/i] instead. 
	Thomas had contracted a disease, one that slowly eroded at his body. It was at this time that the Magnor Dragonblade scandal had happened, and many at the time were hard up - none more-so than his family. Not unable and not bothered to find someone capable of curing him, Thorn's father dumped him outside of the city of Actium, covered in leaves so as not to be found, and left him for the dogs. He could only curse his luck in life, unable to move, unable to cry. It was then that his fortunes turned around.
	A visiting commander of the Empire happened to find him, despite the foliage he was covered in, and rescued him. Ordering the troop physician to nurse him to health, Thomas, for the first time in his life, felt gratitude to another living being. He swore on that day, as his health recovered and his strength returned, that nothing, not even death would prevent him from repaying this man. On the day that he was proclaimed fit to return home, Thomas dropped to his knees and professed his undying loyalty to the man who had saved him. And thus, Thomas had changed:

	From beggar, to soldier. 

	From then on, he was to serve as part of the troop, serving under the Emperor and fighting their battles. Thomas could not care less. Now, he had a purpose in life. Now, he had companions who he trusted, and who trusted him. Here he had learned what it meant to fight for a cause, and here, he was taught the meaning of bravery. The man who had saved him proved not only honorable, but heroic, and Thomas made him into his example. In the few years that he had served, he distinguished himself as soldier, and gained a reputation of being an unstoppable juggernaut of the Empire. He learned magic to supplement his already impressive skills, and became the bane of the elves and the drows - for he had only learned magic to counter it. Physically, he became a warrior without peer; magically, only the deadliest could pierce his armor. Thomas had changed once more:

	[i]From soldier, to warrior[/i]

	Thomas fought in more battles, and the more he fought, the stronger he became. He was unstoppable on the field of battle, and carved out a reputation among the populace of the empire as a legendary hero reborn, and though Thomas basked in the fame, in his mind, all he could remember was the feeling of dying and being saved by a man, a man he had long ago out-shined and yet continued to serve. And thus, Thomas had reached the prime of his life. 

	[i]From warrior, to Hero.[/i]

	And, with the advent of the Emperors Folly, from Hero, to [i]Monster[/i].

	He fought valiantly, with the ferocity that made even the undead hesitate; he fought a battle worthy of his reputation, slaying more undead than could be counted by ten men. But no man is an army, and all men fall eventually. Thomas was overrun, and his black reward was undeath. His mind addled by the resurrection and his natural drive to dominate at conflict with his heroic nature, Thomas wandered the death-ridden planes, and killed all that came within reach - undead, especially. He retained the capacity for rational thought as a Revenant, but all it served to do was heighten his anguish.
	From then on, Thomas became a near mindless undead, with only a single goal in mind. His being warped and he became someone, something else. The years took its toll on him, and he isolated himself, preferring to avoid the other undead like himself. The isolation changed him, completing his transformation - his mindlessness receded, and yet, his bouts of madness grew stronger and more frequent. He could no longer be called Thomas - that was the name of another man; another life. 

	Finally, from [i]Thomas[/i], to [i]Thorn[/i][/hider]