𝕸𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖆 "𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖙" 𝕱𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖓
Height: 2m (6'8")
Weight: 108kg (237lbs)
Eye Color: Yellow
Hair Color: White (Previously brown)
Race: Sapient Undead Human
Nicknames: Frost, White One, Beast, Iron Wall
Class: 6 of Swords
Even among a world of fantastical creatures, you'd be hard-pressed to miss the presence of Frost. The undead woman is a presence that demands attention; from her towering height, snow-white hair and her black eyes marked with glowing, yellow irises. There's no way around the fact that she is clearly undead, from the aforementioned blackened eyes to her ashen grey skin. Despite that, it should also be obvious that in her previous life Frost was quite the attractive woman, possessing ample curves and a fetchingly feminine face.
Outside of combat gear, Frost prefers wearing simple clothing that doesnt attract any attention. Simple muted colors and drab fashion is her modus operandi. Curiously enough, all her clothing looks hand-made.
In combat however, she prefers to stand out as much as possible; drawing the foe's attention to her so her teammates can act undisturbed. For this she prefers utilizing the common stereotype of undead fear, employing multiple skulls and other grizzly fetishes to her armor. Most of these are trophies from previous successful bounties.
She has a thick, Northern accent (think Swedish).
Frost is a bit of a sheltered woman, who prefers to stick to herself when possible. she's quite wary around those she doesnt know yet, though probably not nearly as wary as those should be around an undead. Some might even think her emotionless, considering she doesnt really smile that much anymore nor is she really the type to joke around. Those who do get to know her better will realize that she does in fact have emotions, which are most notable when in combat; the only time she truly feels alive again.
✔ Being left alone
✔ Protecting her comrades
✘ Watching people eat
✘ Getting touched
✘ Being called a zombie
✘ Thunder storms
✘ Other undead
✘ People thinking immortality is a blessing
- Platemail armor
- Tower shield
Iron wall: Frost's armor and shield already make her a veritable walking fortress, combine that with her undead resilience and she's practically immune to physical damage. Of course, decapitation is still an ever-present problem and magic is a hard-counter as neither her armor nor her undead nature protects her against such threats.
Undead regeneration: Physical wounds are obviously a lot less troubling for someone who's already dead. Wounds heal naturally over time and entire limbs can be reattached. She's immune to healing magic though and requires necromatic magic to heal faster.
Rage: Frost is already quite powerful to begin with, but by going into a state of rage; she becomes a killing machine. The enhanced strength allows her to move around far faster than anybody would assume is possible, allowing her to surprise most foes. And due to her undead nature, the rage doesnt leave her exhausted either. There is a high risk she might attack her teammates if they present a threat to her or she simply doesnt know them well enough to differentiate them from her foes.
Frost's backstory could almost be considered romantic, if things hadn't gone the way they did...
The woman known as Mathilda Fransen died well over 60 years ago by now. Back then, she was an accomplished adventurer. In fact, she was so well accomplished she had garnered herself quite the fan following. The Beast, as people used to call her back then, on account of the berserker rage she'd go into when in combat; allowing her to fell even giants with but a swing of her massive axe.
Of course, as is usually the case with adventurers, her claim to fame was short but powerful. A demon possessed warlord eventually managed to fell Mathilda by plunging a javelin straight through the woman's left eye, instantly killing her. She was carried back into town, where she'd be laid to rest and a with a little luck she'd get a commemorative plaque somewhere, regaling her tales. People would find a new adventurer to pin their hopes and dreams on. And that, for all intents and purposes, was the end of The Beast.
But not for Brun von Bohrn, the self-proclaimed biggest fan of Mathilda. The man was absolutely obsessed with Mathilda, practically worshiping her. He'd foreseen the possibility of her falling in battle and as such had prepared himself over the years, plunging himself head-deep into the necromantic arts. The man was obviously completely infatuated with Mathilda and figured she'd show him the greatest form of gratitude possible when he brought her back. After all, he'd be giving her a second shot at life! So, while the rest of town drank in Mathilda's remembrance, he snuck into the mortuary under the cover of night to perform the forbidden arts.
But things didnt quite work out as well for Brun as he had hoped. Mathilda was indeed brought back to life, her soul violently ripped from the ether and forced into the empty, broken shell of her body. The woman woke up with a deafening cry, clawing wildly at her broken eye, before entering a state of rage and tearing poor, misguided Brun limb for limb. It wasnt until hours later someone noticed the wailing coming from the mortuary. Fearing for a Banshee, a group of adventurers were send out to investigate, only to find the mortuary a bloody, gore covered mess; with Mathilda standing at the center of the carnage.
Fearing her to be a mindless undead, the adventurers tried to kill her; but only managed to drive her out of town in the end. Driven into the wilds, Mathilda wandered the lands for a few years; desperately trying to come to terms with her new un-life. She had no desire to be brought back to life, she had died an honorable death; what more could a warrior ask for? Killing herself was out of the question as well, for suicide was considered the greatest sin anybody could commit, undead or not. So she did what she new best and slowly began picking up her old trade again. It wasnt long before people would find bandit camps completely emptied out, its inhabitants brutally eviscerated.
Now however, Mathilda figured it was time to try and enter civilized lands again. Those who knew her in life were far and few in between, age no longer a factor for her. While she takes no pleasure in her new state of un-life, she realized she could use it to make sure this wouldnt happen to anybody else ever again; either by simply acting as her comrade's shield, or by vanquishing the vile necromantic arts.