"The Legion demands everyhting from you, and in return it will make you one of the strongest fighters in all of Lordan - Pray to the wolf, and serve it, and in turn it shall serve you too."
Age and Age at time of original death:
87, died at the age of 36.
Sex:
Male
Class: Alpha Wolf.
Skills:
Vitality - 18
Endurance - 32
Attunment - 8
Vigor - 30
Strength - 35
Dexerity - 58
Intelligence - 12
Faith - 50
Adaptability - 40
Appearance:
Dravon has been a commander in the Watchdogs for many years now, and his body and face show it - weathered, grizzled and scarred, if the occasion that he ever takes his helmet off arises you can see a network of scars trace his face, old and new mixing with one another, it makes him a bit unsightly to look at but it doesn't take much to see that this man is one of the most experienced men in the Watchers. His hair is thick and unruly - and is whiter than the snows of Eleum Loyce, it shows slightly when he wears his helmet, at the nape of the neck. His eyes are stern and cold, despite being a warm sea green in colour - it is the equivalent at staring into the depths an ocean, you can admire them and appreciate their beauty, but is cold and can easily claim your life. They do not fit the man they belong too. Standing at 6'5 he makes for a daunting figure and not one to underestimate his height seems only to be exemplified by his slim frame that hides an underlying strength - his body is clearly built for dexterity and to be able to use the Legions uncanny sword style that requires a great command of ones own body and muscles. His darksign is burnt into his right inner thigh, contrasted heavily by his pale and lethargic skin.
Weapons and Armour/Clothing: The Farron Ultra Greatsword and Undead Legion armour as well as the Ring of the wolf and Ring of Favour.
Personality:
Cold and unfeeling are the best words to describe Dravon - he feels only for the Legion, his unwavering loyalty the only fuel he has left to keep his humanity. When you set the Legion aside (something that is exceptionally difficult to do for this man) then what you have is a man with a morbid sense of humour and curiosity, he is gravely interested in the abyss and its origins as well as what it does to its hosts; on occasion he will let the abyss consume someone in front of his eyes as they scream in pain merely to understand it better. The better they understand it, the better they can kill it - fire works more oft than not and his equipment is littered with items that start fire in order to hold the cancer back. He has condemned several towns to be torched after recovering the slightest bit of evidence of the taint - typically with residents all still in it; any whom escape the flames meet blades or a volley of arrows. When the abyss is involved the man is almost mechanical in his actions - anyone whom is tainted and this man sees it - their life is over.
A partially burnt painting found in the ruins of Castle Foy, a once mighty stronghold located near Mirrah's northern border. Rumors suggest the entire Foy family perished when a rival kingdom invaded their lands, and this portrait, depicting Lord Gordon and Lady Elspeth's only child, is all that remains of their proud legacy.
Character Name: Isolda Foy, also known as Isolda of Mirrah
Age and Age at time of original death: Currently 28 years old, 21 years old at time of original death
Sex: Female
Class: Knight
Skills
Vitality – 10 (+5)=15
Endurance – 10 (+2)=12
Attunement - 10
Vigor – 10 (+3)=13
Strength – 10 (+10)=20
Dexterity - 10
Intelligence - 10
Faith - 10
Adaptability - 10
Appearance: Standing at roughly 5'6", Isolda of Mirrah doesn't seem particularly intimidating at first glance. This initial impression quickly changes when strangers see her pale blue eyes glaring at them from behind her helmet's dented visor. There's little warmth or compassion in Isolda's gaze, and she seems to regard the rest of the world with a mixture of bitter indifference and disgust. Unlike most women of noble birth, her skin is slightly sunburnt due to spending many years on the open road, though her black hair still creates a striking contrast. She keeps her hair short, rarely allowing it to grow past her jawline, because the last thing she wants to be worrying about in the heat of battle is her hair. Her heavy silver plate armor completes the image of a wandering knightess, though Isolda's body isn't especially muscular. There's a leanness and a wiry strength to her that allows the highborne to move faster than most warriors. However, a ropy scar starting above her right eye and ending below her left serves as a grim reminder that speed isn't always enough. Narrow shoulders, a flat stomach, and powerful legs further contribute to the aura of strength clinging to Isolda of Mirrah like a burial shroud. However, she is still an Undead, and her Darksign can be seen burning in the middle of her back whenever she's not wearing armor. While Isolda almost never removes her battle regalia, she can usually be seen wearing a plain linen tunic and leather breeches when she does. Luckily, the knight has only died a few times since becoming Undead so she still looks human.
For now.
Weapons and Armour/Clothing: Silver Longsword, Wooden Shield, Knight Helm, Knight Armor, Knight Gauntlets, Knight Leggings, Bracing Knuckle Ring, Life Ring
Personality: Isolda Foy is an extremely practical woman, a trait that has served her well over the course of her tumultuous life. Furthermore, whenever she decides to pursue a specific goal, such as joining the Watchdogs of Farron, she will do anything to achieve said goal. While she still believes the knightly virtues of honor and duty are important, Isolda is no longer willing to risk death to protect someone she doesn't care about. Defending your family and friends is one thing, but trying to save every stranger you come across is ludicrous. This attitude makes it hard for the noblewoman to form lasting relationships. In addition, Isolde is more than happy to offer advice when asked, but she doesn't see the point in talking to others about her own trials and tribulations. It won't change anything. Instead, she believes it's more sensible to channel one's energy towards doing something, anything to stave off depression and indolence. Since Mirrah's collapse, however, the lady knight has become even more withdrawn, and an unnerving ruthless streak has started to color her actions.
However, this icy facade masks a crippling fear of hollowing. Isolda is terrified of transforming into a mindless creature, deprived of all memories and humanity. This fear is what ultimately drove her to embark on the long, dangerous road to Farron Keep. The highborne is desperate to find some way to make her existence meaningful. In truth, Isolda is a lost woman, seeking purpose in a world that is slowly falling apart.
Biography: Isolda was born to Lord Gordon and Lady Elspeth Foy on a gorgeous morning in spring. She was their only child, which meant she would inherit Castle Foy when her parents passed on. Considering the ancient keep's formidable reputation, the Foys weren't surprised when their daughter received a veritable flood of marriage offers from Mirrah's other noble families. In a startling act of generosity, however, Lord Gordon said he would let his "little bird" decide if marriage was something she wanted when she was older. For the time being, Isolda's childhood was filled with lessons, numerous playmates, and a thorough grounding in Mirrah's various fighting styles. She tended to favor the sword and shield, though her combat skills paled beside her talent with horses. Lord Gordon would spend hours with Isolda, teaching her the finer points of riding and watching as she galloped across the meadows surrounding Castle Foy. Sadly, the venerable lord had sustained a grievous wound in his youth so he couldn't join his daughter, but the sight of her laughing as her gelding cantered around the courtyard filled him with joy.
Lord Gordon knew his "little bird" was destined for great things.
When she turned thirteen, as the daughter of a prominent noble family, Isolda was permitted to join one of Mirrah's knightly orders. From the Shadow Knights to the Knights of the Blazing Heart, these peerless fighters would do anything to keep their homeland safe. It was an honor to be counted among their number. This would, however, prevent Isolda from marrying until she was formally discharged from whatever order she selected. After discussing the matter with her family, Isolda decided to join the order her father had belonged to in his youth. The Knightly Order of the Silver Wyrm. The day she received her silver armor and became a squire to Sir Arantiel, one of the most celebrated knights in Mirrah, was the happiest day of Isolda's life. While several nobles voiced their disappointment that the girl was no longer able to marry, Lord Gordon was too proud to care. Sir Arantiel would keep his daughter safe while forging her into a noble Knight of the Silver Wyrm.
A few days later, Isolda bid her mother and father farewell before riding off with Sir Arantiel to do what the knights of Mirrah did best. Protect their kingdom. The next seven years were difficult, but Isolda wouldn't have traded them for all the gold in the world. Sir Arantiel taught her everything he knew about chivalry and warcraft while still finding time to help those in need.
Shortly after her twentieth birthday, Sir Arantiel brought Isolda to the Silver Bastion, the headquarters of the Knightly Order of the Silver Wyrm in southern Mirrah. A dozen other knights and their squires joined them over the next few days. The knights spent a year in the Silver Bastion, training and testing their young wards to ensure they were ready for what would come next. On a chilly morning in winter, Isolda and the other squires were given new armor and weapons to commemorate their ascension to knighthood. Isolda was overjoyed and wanted to return to Castle Foy to tell her parents the good news. Sir Arantiel, who'd become like a second father to the girl, said he'd be more than happy to accompany her.
It was during the long journey north that everything changed.
During this time, whispers of a strange disease and something called the Darksign were spreading through the land like wildfire. Thankfully, only the kingdoms to the north and east seemed to be affected. After traveling for several weeks, Sir Arantiel suggested stopping at a settlement called Blackstone Village in central Mirrah to rest and resupply. The people there were decent, hardworking folk, and they'd jump at the chance to assist two wandering knights. Isolda agreed, and they reached Blackstone Village just after sunset...only to find it completely deserted. Abandoned settlements weren't uncommon in war-ravaged Mirrah so the twosome decided to stay the night before moving on. Before they'd even taken out their bedrolls, however, the villagers, who'd all fallen prey to the Curse of the Undead, emerged from the shadows and attacked. Isolda and her mentor fought bravely, slaying dozens of walking corpses, but the knightess quickly realized there were too many enemies to overcome. Fear gripped Isolda, and she fled, ignoring the horrified screams of her friend and mentor as the Hollows ripped him to pieces.
Sobbing as her warhorse galloped away from Blackstone Village, Isolda found herself wandering through an immense, tangled forest. She spent the next four days trying to escape, and, while she did eventually find a way out, she wasn't alone. A group of bandits had been following her since her flight from Blackstone Village, and they saw how exhausted and fearful the lady knight was. Isolda barely had time to get her bearings before an arrow hit her with enough force to knock her to the ground. The noblewoman fought with all her strength, but it simply wasn't enough. The leader of the brigands slashed her across the face with his axe, splitting her head like a ripe melon. As the victorious highwaymen began to remove their victim's silver armor, however, Isolda rose from the ground, her injury already turning into a garish scar. "Undead!" the men shrieked. "You're a filthy Undead!"
The cut-throats fled into the forest, leaving Isolda to stare after them in mute horror. It was true. She'd contracted the Darksign. What in the name of the gods was she going to do?
In the end, Isolda decided to keep moving north, hoping her parents would be able to do something about her condition. Maybe they could find a physician capable of curing her? Could the Curse of the Undead even be cured? Sadly, her horse had run off during the fight with the bandits so she didn't reach Castle Foy until nearly a month later. As she crested a small ridge just to the south of the stronghold, Isolda immediately knew something was wrong. A pall of black smoke hung over the keep, and the entire region was unnaturally quiet. Her home had been ransacked. After noticing several discarded weapons of foreign make and coming across half a dozen burned villages, the lady knight slowly pieced together what had happened. The whispers she'd heard while traveling with Sir Arantiel had suggested the kingdom to the north, whose name Isolda couldn't remember for some reason, was fighting a losing war against the Undead. Obviously, they'd seen Mirrah, a relatively untainted land, and decided to conquer it. Starting with Castle Foy.
Isolda spent the next seven days sifting through the ruins of her home, trying to find her parents' bones or any of her childhood belongings. Only ashes remained. Grief-stricken and numb, the knightess sat down inside the charred keep and tried to come up with a plan. But nothing came to her. Out of some belated desire to atone for Sir Arantiel's death, Isolda spent the next seven years traipsing across Mirrah, trying to help the commonfolk to the best of her ability. If she was lucky, they would give her green blossoms and other essential supplies to show their gratitude. If they discovered the Darksign blazing on her back, however, Isolda was forced to flee or fight for her life. She usually managed to escape unscathed, but sometimes she was slain. As the days turned to weeks and then to months, Mirrah's various knightly orders tried to rally against the northern invaders while also contending with the rising tide of Undead and Hollows. In the end, it proved to be too much, and Isolda was forced to watch her beloved homeland sink into despair and anarchy. Mirrah's knights were scattered, which made them easy prey for roving groups of bandits, Hollows, and enemy soldiers. Villages burned and blood flowed through the city streets.
And that's when Isolda remembered a conversation she'd had with Sir Arantiel as they'd traveled through an apple orchard a few days south of Blackstone Village. Her teacher had mentioned how sad it must be to be Undead. After all, they were destined to hollow, to lose everything that made them human. If they had any brains, the rotting bastards would all head west to the kingdom of Farron. Sir Arantiel had heard stories about a group of Undead that called themselves the Abyss Watchers, men and women afflicted by the Curse of the Undead that had chosen to follow in the legendary footsteps of Knight Artorias. They had sworn an oath to fight the Abyss until it destroyed them.
Isolda briefly revisited the wreckage of Castle Foy, but she already knew what she had to do. Mounting her horse, one of many valuables she'd stolen from a drunken knight a week earlier, she rode west, trying to avoid the chaos consuming Mirrah. After nearly a month of traveling, Isolda Foy has finally reached Farron Keep. She plans to pledge her sword to the Watchdogs of Farron. What else is there for an Undead with nothing and no one?
Spells/Pyromancies/Hexes/Miracles: None
Inventory:Firebombs (x5), Green Blossoms (x5), Homeward Bone (x1), Repair Powder (x2), Charcoal Pine Resin (x1), Estus Flask (x5)
Current Age: 27 years Age at First Death: 23 years
Sex:
Female
Class:
Flame Swordswoman
Skills:
Vitality - 16
Endurance - 12
Attunment - 15
Vigor - 10
Strength - 10
Dexerity - 13
Intelligence - 10
Faith - 10
Adaptability - 14
Appearance:
5'8" tall, with pale skin unbefitting her flame, attire, and weaponry. She has jet-black hair, and heterochromia. She is a beautiful woman by all rights, her slim figure hides a strength and skill. Though her scant clothes and soft-looking skin may lead one to think she would be deceptive and seductive most of the time, she wears a hood to hide her bloodlust. Her clothes belonged to the woman responsible for her death. She claimed those clothes as a trophy after killing her, wearing them as a reminder of her first death, that there is always a possibility she can die again, and that there are none that cannot be felled.
Weapons and Armour/Clothing:
Desert Sorceress Set - Clothes taken from the woman that first killed her.
Speckled Stoneplate Ring - A ring taken from the woman that first killed her. It allows a bit of protection against sorceries, miracles, and pyromancies.
Pyromancy Flame - A flame that had been shared with Brangwen during her brief time in the Great Swamp. She hopes to become more skilled with it when she's with the watchers.
Falchion - A curved blade taken from a bandit. Her skill with it improved over her years of dueling.
Personality:
At first glance, one would expect the woman to be a seductress who uses her looks to manipulate the hearts and minds of others through desire. That would only be partially true. She has used seduction to aid herself before, but only on rare occasions. For the most part, she is an overconfident braggart that taunts any foe that cares to listen. She is impatient and rarely hesitates to so something if she thinks that it is the right course of action, making her seem merciless. It doesn't help that she becomes gleeful when she enters combat, and holds a hatred towards nobles and commonfolk alike.
Still, Brangwen is passionate about everything that she does. She acts quickly on her ideas and is steadfast in her beliefs. The reason she wished to join the Watchers was to both quench her desire to kill, and finally do something that she thinks would be right for once. She wishes to actually do good by exterminating something that threatens the lands.
Biography:
There aren't many memories from when she was an infant, but the happiest moments of Brangwen's life came about during childhood. Her parents had abandoned her as an infant, but she was raised by the street rats in the country of Carim. They were a strange bunch, sticking out among the religious folk, but they did what they could. Sure, there were thieves in their numbers, but most others attempted to support each others through more legitimate means. Brangwen herself took a liking to street performances. It didn't make much, but the streetrats were her family. They had their ups, downs, and funtimes, but she was content with her life with them.
Of course, most of her happy memories ended when a so-called scholar from Vinheim arrived. The man told them that he was only searching for assistants. He promised to pay them for their services, and they easily fell for the ruse. Needless to say, the streetrats were never seen again, save for Brangwen. She witnessed the experimentation and butchery of those closest to her, and lost herself in a flurry of strong emotions. When she found a chance, she killed the scholar, and put an end to her friends' misery. By the time she regained her senses, she found herself on a raft that beached near the land of Berenike.
The years she spent in Berenike were not memories she would like to recount. She spent her years in that land penniless and starving. In order to survive, she became part of a brothel, where she was mercilessly raped and ravaged by men who had called themselves "honorable knights." If there were any truly noble men or women, Brangwen never met them. She spent one year in that brothel before she snapped and murdered a man who had paid for her "services." She fled the country before anyone had a chance to catch her.
Brangwen wandered the lands for a moment, until she found herself in the Great Swamp. The people there were much kinder than she was used to, even taking time to teach her how to use pyromancy. Still, her view of people had been corrupted so much that she suspected treachery, and fled once again. She spent time on the roads, aimlessly wandering, and took to looting and scavenging in order to survive. One day, she was found by a bandit, who had attempted to kill her for laughs. She burned him alive, and finally realized that she was good at killing.
After taking the bandit's sword for herself, she traveled to towns and villages, challenging people to duels to better herself and earn money to buy food and water. Occasionally, she would murder her opponents the night afterwards, usually after her opponent reminded her of the scholar or the knight from her past. Brangwen would eventually become skilled enough to brag about her own abilities. She began winning duels one after the other, and became full of herself.
Then, one day... Brangwen was challenged by a woman that adorned strange clothes. The woman's abilities far exceeded Brangwen's own, and she suffered her first death when the woman's own pyromancies overpowered hers, and obliterated her. When Brangwen awoke, she found that she had been cursed as an Undead, and took it as a second chance to seek revenge. She found the woman who had killed her, and with a smile, Brangwen slit her throat. She took the woman's clothes and ring as her prize, and burnt the corpse to ashes.
Years would pass, and Brangwen had gained a small reputation. She earned the title "Estranged" from those who witnessed her duels, thinking that her personality and fighting style were much too different from her appearance. She would have enough money to buy what she needed for her fights, and her pleasures, and every time someone she disliked arrived, she would kill them.
However, despite being able to get almost anything she wanted, Brangwen would grow bored of her actions. She felt empty, and longed for the contentment that she had felt when she was a child. Then, she heard about the "Watchers of the Abyss." The tale of their exploits, marches, and mission inspired a feeling she had not felt since she acted on the streets of Carim as a child. As she sought them to join their numbers, she had come to realize that most of her life had come to nothing but murder and violence. By the time she found them, her reasons for wanting to join had expanded to more noble thoughts, mixed a bit of twisted ones. Still, she would pledge herself to their beliefs and orders in an attempt to become the type of warrior she had acted as in childhood.
Appearance:his skin is tan and he has hazel eyes. He has dusty brown brown hair that goes down to his ears. His body type would be that of a long distance runner. Isaac has two scars on his body one on his left cheek going all the way to his chin even thought it has healed their is something wrong with that scar. his second scar runs all the way down his back almost like his original death was due to something more tragic then he lets on.
Weapons and Armour/Clothing: weapon: (Claws/long bow/torch) Armor: (Black leather boots/gloves/ and chest) Rings: caloranthy ring/ ring of blades/ ring of steel protection/ Silvercat ring)
Personality: Isaac likes to surround himself with people he would like to call his allies because he knows that it is smarter to be in groups with others to take to blows for him. when left unchecked Isaac usually goes off to hide somewhere nearby waiting to get the drop on whatever might chasing him. Isaac always wants people he can trust
Biography: one day while Isaac was looting the forest of fallen giants he cam across a man that calls himself Cale the Cartographer. This man told Isaac of land called new Londor and how wonderful it is. Isaac interested in finding purpose eagerly asked him for more info and how he would get there. with newfound knowledge he went head first ready to face the new challenges ahead of him... well not as prepared as he thought for this was no easy task at hand. The constant dying the constant betrayal from people he would of trusted otherwise almost enough to make a man go hollow almost is the key word here for Isaac found his way into the Undead Burg. Coming across Watchers Isaac just followed them all the way to Farron keep finding himself trusting these men for he had no idea were to go.
Spells/Pyromancies/Hexes/Miracles: I don’t trust spells to do the work for me.
Inventory: 6 green blossoms/ 60 iron arrows/ 40 poison arrows/ 5 Estus Flask/ repair box/ 10 poison throwing knifes
Appearance: Kaira has long black hair tied into a ponytail, with bangs that cover her right eye. She has a slim figure that compliments her average height of 5'8". Burn marks cover her light tan colored skin, these burns are usually kept hidden, save for the burn mark on her right eye, which is a very pale blue compared to her left eye which is a brilliant sky blue. Her dark sign is on her right shoulder.
Weapons: Pyromancy Flame, Falchion
Armor: Mirrah set(minus the mask), Slumbering Dragoncrest Ring, Great Swamp Ring
Always the type to hit the books, Kaira has a thing for studying old tomes and/or books, despite not being a sorcery or spellsword. If possible, she even hopes to spread her knowledge, as a means of teaching her fellow sane undead the benefits and dangers of pyromancy. Kaira has an extreme fascination with the powers of pyromancy, and it was only until she mortally burned herself trying to push her flame's limits that she started to study pyromancy more cautiously. She still yearns for more knowledge on pyromancy and would "kill" to get her hands on a tome relating to the pyromancies of Izalith. Going past her lust for knowledge, Kaira is very talkative and is always trying to keep an upbeat mood. After her accident back in Mirrah, Kaira can't stand the thought of hurting more innocent people.
While growing up, Kaira was taught the way of combat by her father, as the land of Mirrah she comes from is constantly at war. It was only until she found a dusty pyromancy tome that her mother had kept hidden that she started to develop an interest in pyromancy. After creating her own pyromancy flame, she began practicing in secret along with her father's lessons. Things seemed fine, until one night she started to experiment on her flame, the resulting inferno engulfed her home, taking her parents with it. Rising from the ashes of her destroyed home, Kaira exiled herself from Mirrah and ran from the destruction she caused. Many years later, Kaira had sold herself as a lone mercenary, taking odd jobs as to keep herself going. She never liked letting her blade do the talking but she had to make a living somehow, "can't keep yourself sane if you don't have anything to do" as she always said to herself. Over the years, Kaira began to feel like just another pointless undead, she was never going to make a difference selling her services to do questionable jobs, then one day she learned of the Watchdogs of Farron. Rather than waste her humanity on mercenary work, Kaira felt her talents would be more useful in aiding the Undead Legion in its task of destroying and stopping the spread of the abyss.
Spells: Fireorb, Warmth
Items: Charcoal Pine Resin ×10 Purple Moss Clump and Blooming Purple Moss Clump ×10 Prism Stone ×10 Estus ×5
Biorr approaches almost 7 feet in height with a very muscular build befitting of a Knight of Berenike. He keeps his brown hair short but doesn't do much with it other than that so it is somewhat messy. The only place on his body with a scar is his face, which bears a horizontal scar just below his eyes, a fact that could be attributed to the heavy armor he almost never removes. His darksign can be found on the back of his right shoulder.
Weapons and Armour:
Greatsword, Greatshield, Steel set, Heavy crossbow, Ring of Steel Protection
Personality:
Though he's become a bit somber and quiet from time Biorr can be ever so slightly jovial and he does enjoy the company of friends, even if most of his outward behavior is rather stoic and he prefers to let actions speak for him. He is usually patient and calm but is a relentless fighter and shows a reckless persistence in his endeavors, in contrast to his usual self he fights very aggressively and the sound of his roars and warcries often accompany his attacks. He does specifically have a disdain for those of an imperious nature and takes no small pleasure in knocking them off their perch should they annoy him and he has still retained a slight bit of a competitive nature from his time as a Forest Hunter
Biography:
Biorr can remember as far back as Sen's fortress during the Berenike Knights' assault, the reason behind their march is lost to him now but he knows that many of the mighty knights, including himself, died in the battle. He stood alongside a good friend during the fighting, a fellow knight by the name of Tarkus, and one of his few distinct memories is striking down several of the fortress' defenders to secure Tarkus' advance forward to the Iron Golem at the top as well as witnessing his friend's victory. Before he could even attempt to follow in his friend's footsteps he found himself facing down former comrades that had gone completely hollow, and he was barely able to retreat from the fortress with his humanity.
From there he had...well nothing, he could not take on both the fortress' defenders and his former comrades and as such had to turn away. Among the first places that Biorr wandered to was the darkroot forest, where he came across the Forest Hunters, they initially tried to keep him out but after defeating several hunters Alvina offered him a place among them, which he accepted gladly. He came to enjoy the competition that came with their defense of the forest but found that he often lost out, He had ample strength to crush trespassers in the forest but his kills would often be stolen by his much quicker compatriots. This prompted him to take up using an old crossbow to secure his kills and even steal some from other hunters.
Somewhere along the line he and a few other hunters came across a patrol from Farron's legion passing through the forest, they quickly descended upon the group and actually made swift work of them but the undead legionnaires kept returning, rising after they had been slain again and again until Biorr was the only one of the Hunters left, and even then only because he had the same curse. They continued to kill each other for quite some time, until both sides had forgotten why they were there. Both he and the Abyss watchers had confused him as an ally, and as such he continued on as a watchdog of Farron.
Young, strong, and healthy (Relative for being a hollow of course), Rekka is just the type of man the Watchdog needs to fill it's ranks. While under the influence of humanity his skin is fair and tanned, yet his hair is a dull grey and his eyes are a pale green, like swamp water. Rekka's Dark Sign is located on the back of his neck, always burning, always reminding him of his damnation.
Weapons and Armour/Clothing: Weapons Bandit Axe - An axe of bandits of the Forossan outskirts. Very sturdily built for the armament of a bandit. When Forossa fell to war, its citizens were left landless, and entirely to their own devices. Many were reduced to thievery, while Forossan knights scattered to other lands as sellswords. Rekka dabbled in a bit of both, robbing the weak or selling his blade to... Rob the weak.
Composite Bow - Composite short bow emphasizing power. Its size allows for quick shots. Though more powerful than standard bows, it also requires more strength of the user, and its range is short. Rekka is skilled enough in it's use that he can unleash a rapid fire salvo of arrows, though weaker per shot.
Arrows - Standard Arrows for bows. Rekka is skilled enough to make his own from time to time.
Follower Torch - An offensive torch used by the Farron Followers. Provides light and doubles as a weapon. Some forms of the Abyss manifest as pus within the body, treated from ancient times with fire. Rekka's moniker was earned for his particular skill at using a torch as an offensive weapon, and upon joining the Legion upgraded to a torch that would accommodate such a style.
Armor - Bandit's Set - Armor of bandits of the Forossan outskirts. The territory of Forossa became lawless after the kingdom fell to war. Citizens became bandits, and scattered to other lands. Rekka's armor is not particularly unique in and of itself, matching the general aesthetics of the bandits without quite standing out. Perhaps that is how he managed to survive the cutthroat nature of Forossan.
Spider Shield - A shield bearing a large etching of a spider. Shields of this style are commonly used by savage mountain bandits, and offer high resistance to poison. As one of said savage mountain bandits, Rekka often employed this shield against other bandits, who would coat their weapons in rotten pine resins to ensure that even the slightest cut would become fatal.
Rings - Rusted Iron Ring - This iron ring was used to shackle the guilty. It is terribly rusted, and faintly stained with blood. Those who find this strange ring to their liking will be pleased to find it easier to gain footing on poor ground such as swamps. Rekka made good use of this ring to ambush unwary prey in the thick marshlands where he once preyed upon.
Old Witch Ring - Old ring from an old witch. Engraved minutely with indecipherable script, but seemingly useless. Rekka has no idea where he had obtained this ring from, only that it radiates a sadness and warmth that he's loath to part with.
Ring of Evil Eye - According to legend, this ring contains the spirit of the evil eye, a dark beast which assaulted Astora. The strength of the evil eye does not waver, and lifeforce is absorbed from fallen enemies. Rekka found this ring when he first explored the sewer depths near Blighttown, where he learned of the annoying nature of Basalisks.
Redeye Ring - A cursed ring depicting a demon eye. Becomes easier to be detected by enemies. If it is tranquility that you seek, then you should never have left your home. If you seek strife, then fair enough, but no need to overdo it. Rekka obtained this particular ring during his time in Forossa, where he had disengaged from his unit to battle a heavily armed and armored champion. It was a hard fought battle but eventually Rekka came out on top, taking this ring as his trophy.
Personality: As it is, Rekka is only a few steps away from going completely hollow. While he once resorted to banditry in order to survive, after discovering that he had fallen to the curse of undead, he continued his bandit ways to relish in his functional immortality. Rekka is murderous and bloodthirsty, quick to resort to violence and murder as solutions. In these lands rife with undead, it only makes sense that life is cheap. Rekka often holds very little regret about killing people, innocent or guilty, and as soon as they draw their weapons they are his enemy, regardless of what their prior relationship was before. Rekka dislikes those who try to do things "peacefully" or use negotiations where murdering them would be simpler or even easier. He respects strength however, and if you could prove to be stronger then him, he'll tolerate whatever pansy decision you make.
Honor and such has it's place, and even Rekka could respect it, but he doesn't always apply it and it's more a passing fancy then something he lives by. To bow to an opponent is a sign of respect, but once it times to get to the dirty business of killing another, Rekka respects whatever means possible. Even if it's cheap tactics like relying on certain weapons or using dirty tricks, in the end the winner of the fight isn't the most honorable, but the one who is still alive. Rekka reflects this mentality, as while he is certainly a glory seeking berserker, he has a certain cunning that allows him to exploit the surrounding or his enemy to his advantage, assuming of course he doesn't take the straightforward method and just chop you to bits.
But deep down, Rekka doesn't just desire to fight and kill, but to fight and kill with purpose. Though lost to the fog of ages, Rekka seeks a lady to champion, someone who he would willingly lay his life down for and fight for her honor, even at the lost of his own. He seeks a noble, beautiful woman to whom he could court and show a almost chivilous romance for, though he would also like to partake in some more carnal pleasures as well. Of course, while he wishes to fight and defend his lady, he also has no issue if she's more than capable of handling herself. Quite the opposite in fact: he loves a woman who could defeat him in battle. Hence, Rekka has an affable personality, which he hopes would one day earn him a lady's favor.
Biography:
Rekka’s origins first start with his mother and father. His mother was a Great Swamp pyromancer and healer, using her talents with flame to create a soothing warmth that healed wounds. His father was a minor noble of Catarina, a knight errant looking for honor and glory. The two met one day when his mother, banished from her home due to monsters, was saved her Rekka’s father. They fell in love after fending off the dark beasts, and soon Rekka was born in his father’s home country.
Rekka took after his father mostly, as the knight dearly wished for his son to become a knight as well. Even as a lad, he began his training with his father, and as he grew older and stronger Rekka became more accustomed to his father’s skills. Unlike most knights of Catarina, his father favored heavy weapons like the axe or hammer, citing that while a sword can slay beasts, one needs a heavier blade against a worthy foe (I.e. other knights). Indeed, while his father was certainly a skilled knight of Catarina, there were some dark rumors that he often turned his blade against other noble knights for pretty reasons. But as his father tells him, Rekka’s father only used his blade against the unjust and corrupt. And while the Catarina knights are generally known for being jovial and honorable, Rekka’s father assures him that no one is perfect.
But Rekka was still only a young man when his mother and father were struck ill by a plague. His father was the first to die, as he caught the plague while he was out on a campaign with his fellow knights. Widowed and grieving, Rekka and his mother left the lands of Catarina and hoped to find somewhere where they would be safe from the plague. They intended to head to Astora, but Rekka’s mother was stricken with the plague and died as well. Well aware from any friend, family, or home, Rekka was left alone in the wilderness with nothing but the momento of his mother and father.
With no other choice, Rekka turned to thievery and robbery to try and survive. But he was far from successful, and even the few times he managed to get away with something, it was only a minor victory. Soon Rekka became envious of the knights and nobility who were free to feast and fatten themselves on the labor of others, while Rekka starved in a ditch. He grew more desperate to the point that instead of robbing others, he simply invaded people’s homes and killed them for their belongings. Countless amounts of people, from peasants to minor nobility, were slain by Rekka’s blade, to feed his hunger.
Of course it wasn’t long before wandering knights heard of his menace, and soon a mob was formed to hunt him down. When they found him, Rekka fought long and hard, but was ultimately slain. But not for long. Soon he rose back up again, near an old campsite he had passed so long ago. He was no longer hungry. No longer tired. He felt no pain, and his body was whole despite being drawn and quartered. But when he felt a pain on his neck, and saw something in a water’s reflection, that Rekka realized what had befallen him; he had become an undead.
Rekka had heard of the undead, and relished in it. Still filled with fury and vengeance, he sought out those who participated in his execution hunted them down, killing them in whatever fashion he felt most satisfying at the time. He relished in other acts of violence and banditry as well, typically robbing and pillaging, with a side of raping and burning. Once more a band of knights joined together to take Rekka down, as well as other brigands and hollows, and once more Rekka fought until he was ultimately defeated. Knowing that simply killing him wouldn’t stop him, Rekka was put into chains and sent to the Undead Asylum, in the far off lands of Lordran.
It was here that Rekka spent many a unknown years rotting in his cell. Without any way to gather humanity or even company, Rekka was slowly going more insane. He lashed out against the walls, attempted to commit suicide many times, but alas, he was confined to his cell. It wasn’t until one fateful moment when a corpse fell into his cell did Rekka find his freedom. The key was dropped by a fellow inmate, another hollow seeking to liberate himself from the asylum. Rekka, in his insane state, chose to follow this man in hopes for some sort of freedom. Of course, he didn’t realize he was being used.
Soon Rekka and the inmate were confronted by the Asylum Demon, where Rekka was left behind as bait. With nothing but a broken short sword as his weapon, Rekka was sure he would die. And he did. Many times. And each time his fate was the same, attempting to bypass the demon only to find no escape. It wasn’t until after one resurrection that he came across the same inmate who had betrayed him. Rekka didn’t listen to his excuses and attacked him, disarming the hollow of his knife and slaying him with his barehands. With the key to his freedom, and more importantly a weapon, Rekka was able to escape the asylum demon and flee.
From there Rekka was left to explore Lordran. There were a scant few people where, aside from hollows and those soon to be hollows. There was a morose fellow who gave him some direction in the form of ”ringing the bells”, but this was something he only did when it presented the opportunity for himself. With little else to go off of however, Rekka did go and explore the area, trying to figure out what to do now.
Later Rekka would be recognized as a “Chosen Undead”, but he knew this title was empty. He wasn’t chosen for anything, he thought. He was merely another piece of fodder to throw into a fire. While he initially journeyed throughout Lordran to find something to do, meeting a few friends and killing many enemies along the way, he wasn’t until he arrived in Blight Town did he find purpose. It was there he met her, Quelaag. At the time, she was not immediately hostile to him. She simply told him to turn away, lest she turn him into a feast for her gross chaos beast. But Rekka refused, admitting a certain one-sided infatuation with the Daughter of Chaos. With her interest piqued, she decided to make use of Rekka and allowed him to join her covenant: the Chaos Servants.
His task was simple: Collect Humanity and give it to Quelaag. She was honest with Rekka as well, stating that she needed it to alleviate the pain of her sister. Her sister whom under no circumstances would Rekka ever get to meet, which was fine with him. He felt… Fulfilled collecting humanity for her. More so since one of the best ways to collect humanity involved his most favorite activity, hunting rats killing other hollows. To best facilitate this, he was given strange objects known as cracked red eye orbs, which would allow him to invade other worlds as an ethereal phantom and slay its host for their souls and humanity. While Rekka wasn’t always successful in this task, he made a steady career of hunting down other hollows and their allies for their sweet, sweet humanity, which he offered to Quelaag.
However, his supply of red eye orbs were limited. He needed to find more, but without anyone who sells them or knowing a foe that could reliably have them (And basilisk proving too much of a nuisance to farm), Rekka unknowingly continued on his quest as a Chosen Undead in search of humanity. He braved many hazardous zones, such as Sen’s Fortress and Ando Londo, obtaining the Lordvessel and having no idea what to do with it (It had been quite some time since he had returned to the Firelink Shrine). And though Gwynevere was certainly a tempting misstress to be a knight of, Rekka had already made his vows to Quelaag, and thus departed from the Princess of Sunlight’s company in search for humanity.
It was during this search that things spiralled out of control. Rekka had arrived to the ruins of New Londo. Rekka had learned of the existence of another covenant that would facilitate his need to gather humanity from other hollows: The Darkwraiths. Little was known about this faction, only that they reside in the flooded ruins. There he would need to traverse a realm known as “the Abyss” to contact it’s dark lord. However as this area was unfamiliar to him, Rekka dared not risk traveling through without knowing what he’ll be facing. Thus, he laid down a white soapstone sign near the entrance, and awaited for someone to call him. This way he could scout the area and learn what to expect when he goes through here.
But the flow of time itself is convoluted, with heroes centuries old phasing in and out. The very fabric wavers, and relations shift and obscure. When Rekka was summoned, he arrived in New Londo unlike the version he knew himself. Here New Londo appeared, not as a ruin, but as a city. A city under siege. He looked around and saw his host, some sort of knightly fellow. He asked Rekka to accompany him on this siege, as the gates have fallen and now they must clear it of its defenders. Rekka was unsure why or how he arrived here, but did not question it and followed.
But much to Rekka’s surprise and awe, he had not merely arrived to another parallel world. He had traveled back into time, because as he accompanied his host to the next enemy, Rekka came across none other than Artorias The Abysswalker. Not only him, but also the other four knights, such as Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Lord’s Blade Ciaran, and Hawkeye Gough. These four knights were here to beseige New Londo, and from what Rekka could understand, they were here to rid the city of the Darkwraiths. The same Darkwraiths that Rekka had wanted to meet. He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to fight alongside these legendary warriors.
Truly it was glorious thing. Their enemies, the Dark Wraith and the monsters from the abyss, were fearsome opponents indeed. Often Rekka nearly lost his life to the wretched beings. But time after time, the knights saved him from an early demise. He cut down foes with Artorias, riddled enemies alongside Gough, assassinated Dark Wraiths next to Ciaran, and faced off against great beast beside Ornstein. For the first time, Rekka could feel the joys of jolly cooperation.
Unfortunately it would not last. As they neared the inner sanctum of the Dark Wraiths, great abyssal monsters emerged. Though the four knights held their own they were occupied handling their own foes while Rekka’s host was in a bind. Swarmed by Dark Wraiths Rekka rushed to his aid, cutting down a few of the skeleton knights before falling to their life draining magics. Rekka’s last memories of that fight was seeing Hawkeye Gough fire a great arrow at the Darkwraiths, impaling two at once and causing an explosion that knocked the rest off their feet.
When Rekka returned to his world he had tried to be summoned again, wishing once more to fight alongside those knights. But alas, there was no response. He had waited for some time but he was never summoned. Growing tired of waiting, Rekka made his way back towards Blighttown, to the inner sanctum of Quelaag.
But the world has changed.
When he went to find Quelaag, she was nowhere to be found. He had waited in her chambers where he always met her for days on end, but she never arrived. The only thing he found there was an old ring. As his mind was slowly beginning to crack under the pressure of not only his time in the Abyss, but from the thought of losing his mistress, Rekka dared venture further into the ruins to look for Quelaag. But what he had found instead… Was the Fair Lady. Quelaag’s sister. She was paler than ice, with hair as white as snow. Her body was fair and weak. Unlike Quelaag, her sister would have no hope in defending herself… And then she spoke. Rekka could understand her perfectly, and for the first time since he was undead, Rekka cried.
He cried because he knew Quelaag had died. During his absence, she was slain. He cried because her sister, his Fair Lady, thought Rekka her sister, and appreciates all that he has done to alleviate her pain. Despite all the blighted sacks of pus surrounding her, the dead eggs from her body, the humanity that Rekka had worked so hard for was, in some ways, healing the Fair Lady. But Rekka was lost now. Because while he still called himself a Chaos Servant, Quelaag was dead. He had failed her, and was unworthy of servicing the Fair Lady, less he fail her too. Grief stricken Rekka poured his humanity into the Fair Lady, leavening behind much of his belongings. He exiled himself from the lands of Lordran, believing that even if he followed the path as a Chosen Undead, he is unworthy of whatever fortune he had in the end.
Rekka walked, one by one losing his belongings. His weapons, his equipment, his gifts. The only few things he kept were his rings, and the silver pendent. Even his memories began to fade as he only vaguely remembers Lordran, and whenever he remembers them he always felt sadness. He traveled for what felt like eternity until he was confronted by armed brigands looking to rob him of his few possessions. But while Rekka had lost much of his memories and nearly all his equipment, he never lost his bloodlust. These brigands, more used to robbing hollow peasants then hollow warriors. Despite being weaponless Rekka disarmed one of the robbers of his short sword, and proceeded to make short work of the other two. He donned their armor bits and continued onwards, assaulted by more bandits. They too fell to Rekka’s blade as he collected their arms and armor until soon he was able to piece together crude, rather intimidating armor.
After dealing with even more bandits, Rekka left one alive to question. This bandit told Rekka that he was in the lands of Forossa, which has recently begun to fall apart due to it’s constant state of war with it’s neighbors. It’s common citizens have now become bandits, much like the ones Rekka had slain recently, with many warlords trying to unique what is left of Forossa to reclaim the kingdom’s glory. Rekka cared little about the politics, but felt that this was a good opprotunity to revel in some good old fashioned violence. So slaying the helpful bandit, Rekka finished his armor and found himself another axe, and proceeded to sell his service to the warlords.
Rekka’s memories of the war is vague considering that there was very little of it that he considers interesting. Sure there were plenty of fights that had brought him to the brink of death (And quite a few more where he did die), and he remembered prominent figures such as the Lion Knights, Vengarl, and even fought alongside the renowned Ivory King. But these battles were just fodder to stave off Rekka’s approaching hollowing. Without a sense of purpose, the only thing that fueled him was his bloodlust and battle rage, and soon even that would be consumed by the oppressive darkness consuming his fire.
At some point Forossa was lost. The Lion Knights became nothing more than mercenaries, Vengarl was reported dead, and the Ivory King left the lands of Forossa to found his own kingdom. Once more Rekka was left with nothing to do, nothing but time and other hollows to kill. So he traveled once more, lost, bored, and slowing growing mad when he heard of an order of warriors made to counter the growth of the Abyss. A familiar concept to the mad warrior. And upon hearing more about these “Abyss Watcher”, a hint of nostalgia and regret resonated inside of him. Rekka could not remember why he felt these feelings, but he felt that this group was far more… Relevant than being a mercenary right now. Although uncertain, Rekka sought these Abyss Watchers, hoping to find meaning among their ranks.
Spells/Pyromancies/Hexes/Miracles: None
Inventory: Estus Flask Green Blossom (x5) Black Firebombs (x10) Poisoned Throwing Knives (x20) Rotten Pine Resin (x3)
Appearance: Standing at 6 foot even, Groot is pale skinned with grey eyes and short brown hair. He is of a medium build, not too muscled, but muscled enough to wield his Claymore. A large X shaped scar lays across his face, the scar was made by the weapon that caused his first death. Along with the scar on his face, Groot's entire left arm is covered in scars and burns while his right shoulder has a singular tattoo of a wolfs head.(Tattoo was from before his first death)
Personality: (Despite his name) Groot is loud, bossy, sarcastic, and is just full of himself. He likes to be the center of attention and will do almost anything to make people notice him, be it doing every little thing in has flashy a way as possible to just being as loud as possible. He enjoys being around lots of people, especially those he can impress easily. He hates not getting noticed and can become very petty when someone else is in the spotlight, while he usually just seethes in anger he has on a few occasions tried to make others look bad so he will look better.
Biography: His father was a retired Knight from a far eastern land, his mother was an exiled Astorian woman. His mother named him after a distant ancestor who had fallen to the curse of undeath long ago. As he grew his father taught him many different blade techniques, introducing Groot too a multitude of different weapons, including the blade that Groot currently uses. Eventually Groot grew restless of living on the outskirts of society and one day with a blessing from his father, Groot left home to seek adventure. Before he left his father gave him two gifts, one of which was his old armor the other was the claymore he is using currently as a weapon.
On his adventures Groot learned many things, but he eventually fell to the curse of undeath,this was many years after both his parents had passed on. He then felt an urge deep inside him, something was pulling him towards a thing he couldn't describe. He eventually found what he was looking for, the Farron Legion. It would take him years before he could find any of them, as he had only heard about them in rumors and whispers, he did however evetuanlly find them near the Undead cathedral. He found a small patrol of soldiers unknown to him under attack by hollows. He jumped in to help fight off the hollows, he didn't learn until after the hollows had run off that he was assisting members of the Legion.
While, he stayed with the scout patrol for a few weeks, he was unable to find out how to join the Legion as none of the scouts would tell him. Groot soon parted ways with the scouts to find out more on how to join the Legion, on his journey he found that he liked saving people but only if those people looked at him as if he was the greatest warrior they had ever seen. He soon began craving the attention, he wanted more and more of it. He began to do more dangerous things, he began hunting down hollows who most considered dangerous,just so he could brag to others. He soon found himself back to where he first meet the scouts of the Legion killing Balder Knights who had hollowed and stayed in and around the Undead Cathedral. After his first victory against one of the Balder Knights he took their gauntlets as a trophy and because he enjoyed wearing them as people would recognize them and ask how he acquired them. He stayed at The Cathedral Killing the Balder Knights until he again heard whispers of the Legion, an idea formed and he knew that if he could actually join the Legion he would be able to get even more attention. He then set his sights on finding and joining the Legion.
Spells/Pyromancies/Hexes/Miracles: Groot does not use any of these.
Inventory: A singular sunlight medal he was giving after his first death by a weird but friendly knight. (No not Solaire.) Estus Flask (5 charges)
Appearance: Kali is a fairly short girl, as she died while she was still a very young woman. Barely above five feet and lithe she could be mistaken as a child. Her hair and eyes are a reddish brown, though these turn dark when she is seen as a hollow. She's otherwise conventionally pretty, though the lack of physical maturity makes her arguably less beautiful then other women. Her Dark Sign is on her chest between her collar bones, where her cleavage would be if she had a more prominent bust.
Weapons and Armour/Clothing: Weapons: Kali mainly uses her Estoc for combat, as she is a well trained duelist and knows how to use a thrusting sword against all many of opponents. While she lacks the sheer strength to break through armor and shields with a regular sword, she has the agility and dexterity to work her blade to their weak points, and make sure her strikes hit critical areas. She also has a Sorcerer Staff, a common tool given to all Vinheim mages. It's not particularly unique, but it serves it's purpose as a casting catalyst.
Armor/Clothing: Kali wears a variant of sorcerer clothing, except that she forgoes the gloves for a set of manchettes to protect her arms while fencing, and her clothing is notably darker with a gold trim then the usual deep blue robes most Vinheim Dragon School mages wear. Her clothing, as well as the spells she knows, are the only indication of the surreptitious purpose she was trained to preform.
Rings: Kali wears the Darkwood Grain Ring and the Ring of the Dead. The Darkwood Grain Ring she obtained during her training as a Vinheim assassin, where she had defeated another assassin, taking this ring as her trophy. With it she feels that her body is lighter, allowing her to preform acrobatics more easily and dodge enemy attacks. The Ring of the Dead she obtained after she had become a hollow and saw the horrible effect it had on her appearance. The young girl, still horrified by the curse, sought this ring to retain her humanity, if only in appearance. Kali has also obtained a Ring of Fog, which allows her body to be obscured from afar, and if she stands still could almost be invisible. Her last ring is the Clear Bluestone Ring, which enables her to cast her spells more quickly, and among her general dexterity, shortens her spell casting time just enough that Che could even use her spells while jumping around or falling.
Personality: As an assassin, Kali had to learn to be two-faced without being false. She had to be able to act with nearly two different personalities without relying on masks, as her targets could sense lies, but deception was a harder thing to perceive. Thus while Kali can seem like two different people at times, in truth both sides are her truth self, one more exaggerated then the other.
The side that Kali shows to others is an innocent, curious girl who believes in the best of others. Even if they are notorious for villainy, she can hold onto the hope that their skills could be used for good. She can have a bit of an active imagination and at times, can be quite superstitious. She is the type of person who will make monsters out of shadows, mountains out of molehills. But she can be loyal to a fault, siding with others even when they are wrong, but she does have a sense of justice that would at least allow her to try and convince her wrong-doing friends to change their ways, either gradually or immediately.
But there is another side to Kali, the side that she uses when she must be a professional. This side makes decisions, is often pragmatic, and cares only for the success of a goal, regardless of how it's accomplished. This is Kali's personality for assassination, as it holds no room for emotions like guilt, regret, or even fear. It will think about how to best complete an objective in the most quickest, efficient matter, sacrificing whatever is unnecessary or temporary for greater prizes. This side of Kali cares very little about morality such as good or evil, and sees everything as merely a tool to use for good or evil.
Both sides of Kali are simply different perspectives of a same trait, which she uses to masquerade into people's good graces even if she is suppose to kill them. Her accepting, pragmatic side of her, the one that can see the goodness even in evil and cares only for what it's capable of, not what it was made for or by whom, also has given her an interest in studying Hexes and Abyss Magic, even though such things are exactly what the Abyss Walkers fight against. She intends to use it against the Abyss of course, but all the same, she is exposing herself to the very thing they seek to destroy. She wishes to harness it's power, even if it may destroy her in the attempt.
Biography: Kali is was a student of the Vinheim Dragon School. From a young age she earned the name "Kaliyah The Sharp" for showing not only a great aptitude for magic, but also cunning swordplay. Indeed, while she was quick to attune herself to her staff at the age of ten, by the age of thirteen she had shown promise at fencing. Kaliyah's parents, both still students of the Vinheim Dragon School, were interested in what sort of education their daughter would obtain. As they were both purist mages, they had hoped her daughter would use her wits to also pursue a mastery of sorceresses. And while Kali certainly did show interest, the way of the blade caught her interest much more.
When her teachers found her talent with a rapier nearly matched her skills with a staff, they enrolled her in classes focused around stealth and sound manipulation. These teachers were grooming Kali to become a Spook, an assassin who combined deadly swordplay and spellcasting to become skilled and well-paid killers. And being sharp, Kali was well aware of this. She knew that her teachers intended to sell her service to high bidders, reaping the rewards of her actions while considering her expendable. If she had resisted them, then they would have denied her education at the school and prevent her from ever furthering her career as a sorcerer. So Kali played along, acting as if she was merely a student eager to please. This two-faced personality would serve her well in the future.
It wasn't long however before tragedy struck. One day while Kali was out training, she was attacked by her fellow students. She was unaware of their jealousy and the perceived threat she was against their futures, and together they had waited until she was alone and away from the teachers to personally assassinate her. She fought them off and killed many through her skillful swordplay and cunning tactics, but ultimately was taken down after being overwhelmed by their blades and spells. But that was not the last they would hear of Kali. As she was left to bleed out in the grass, she felt a burning sensation in her chest. It was painful, more painful then swords piercing her body. It harmed not only her body, but her soul. When she looked down she had seen that she was branded with the Darksign. That she was now one of the accursed undead.
When Kali came to she was exactly where she had been slain. Her wounds were gone, her clothes mended, and oddly enough she felt much better than she had prior to blacking out. However her memories were still lucid. Around her she saw the bloodstains of the students she had killed, their bodies taken away with the survivors. Seeking vengeance for her death Kali utilized her skills taught to her and hunted down her killers. One by one she got the drop on the students who had participated in her assassination, killing them in their sleep or stabbing them in the back when their guards were lowered. As she slew more of her students, the survivors as well as other staff at the school were on guard. But Kali's vengeance would not be so easily slated.
Knowing that her current skills would not be enough, she started to expand her repository of spells. She learned how to imbue her weapon with magic, to improve it's cutting edge against her foes. She practiced her swordplay in not only offense, but also defense, being able to parry and riposte her foe with greater ease. Kali learned how to grow and harvest valuable herbs and moss to treat her wounds or give her the boost she needed for an assassination. Eventually she gathered all knowledge she needed for one last job: to kill the one responsible for her death.
As it turns out, it was not just a student who wanted her dead, but a teacher. Not because she was any threat to him, but because he wanted her to improve and become a better assassin. He had killed her on the off-chance that she could possibly be undead, knowing that she would seek vengeance and slay her killers. If she was a fool she would have simply tried to storm the school and take our her targets by force, though such barbaric tactics would never work against them, let alone against those who protect the school from such brutes. But the fact she instead resorted to stealth and subtly, improving her skills right underneath the nose of her murderers, just proved that he had made Kali into a better killer. And he certainly saw first hand just how good of an assassin she was when she impaled him through the chest, her blade glowing with magic energy, and his mansion burning around him.
Before Kali had left, she had taken the liberties to scour the teacher's library for valuable information. She was originally looking for scrolls and tomes of magic she could try to learn from on her own time. Normally the teachers would have to give lessons and explain each page of their magic tomes before students could even begin to understand the spells stored inside, but Kali was confident that she could learn more than enough by herself. However one of the tomes she came across was very, very interesting. For it detailed of a dark and mysterious force known as the Abyss. Though feared for it's corrupting influence even on such powerful beings as gods and kings, there were powerful sorceries that could be harnessed from the dark. Curious, Kali decided that she had graduated the Dragon School and left Vinheim to seek out this Abyss. It was during this journey that she found Farron's Undead Legion, such as the Abyss Watchers. An order of warriors who fight the Abyss's corruption. Kali cared very little about stopping it's spread, but she pretended she did and joined the Undead Legion. This way she would have all the reason to be close to the dark powers of the Abyss, and harness it for her own gain.
