Plank Sinatra
Raven "Gravewalker" Blackburn
Race:
Human
Age:
23
Appearance:
At first glance, Raven may look like a man, her long hair hidden behind her mask and cloak. Once the mask is removed, however, it is very apparent she is a woman. She uses this fact to trick people at first glance into thinking she's a man by lowering her tone and adopting the mannerisms of a man.
Personality:
Raven is a cynic, and shows it with a large helping of sarcasm. Her motto is to never assume someone is trustworthy until they prove otherwise, and it's a trait that has kept her alive until now. That isn't to say she's self-centered or cold, however. Raven does render assistance where it is needed and those who earn her trust will find she is the reliable person to have at their backs in a fight. It also makes her brutally honest and frank. She can be abrasive and seem to be going out of her way to be offensive, but her belief is to always speak the truth even if it's unpleasant.
When put under pressure, Raven maintains a calm, level head and does her best not to let emotion cloud her judgment. She is willing to walk away from death threats, and insults, but she has a long memory. Her revenge always comes later, at opportune moments and often when little effort is required on her part to cause the greatest amount of humiliation for her foe.
Class:
Warrior - Wraith Knight
Wraith Knights are more commonly known as Gravewalkers or Pale Riders. They are warriors attuned to the spirit world and uses its power to fight. They are largely bloodlines, as the ability to see the spirit realm and interact with the dead is usually passed down from parent to child rather than taught.
Strengths:
Raven's left eye has a brand that allows her to see spirits and activate her spirit powers. It glows with a bluish white light when she activates it. She can bend spirits and lesser beings to her will, and with a combination of eye contact and touch, force her way into the mind of others, though this is a double-edged sword - a door once opened may be stepped through in either direction.
Raven's power grows as she 'consumes' spirits of those she defeats. Their power heals her wounds, allows her to move faster, strike harder and endure greater strain on her body.
Raven is also a capable warrior and knowledgeable about cults and dealing with spirits. This includes what some refer to as "ancient knowledge", such as speaking ancient tongues or being able read ancient runes and writings.
Weaknesses:
Raven's character in combat is very much a Black Knight mentality - she never backs down from a fight and although she tries her best to pick her battles wisely, no plan survives contact with the enemy. The mentality that she would rather be the one taking hits than others is a noble idea, but the dead don't care for such distinctions.
The ability to empower herself with the spirits of the fallen is also a double-edged sword. She has to keep her emotions in check and maintain strict mental discipline or else her power will consume her from the inside out - fighting fire with fire is only an effective strategy if one can keep themselves from getting burnt. Strong, malicious and/or ancient spirits are likely to be able to control her to turn her power against herself if she tries to 'consume' them.
Current Location:
Raven is a wanderer, as most Gravewalkers are - where there are cults or rumours of evil spirits, you will find her. She currently resides in the human capital gathering intelligence.
History:
Life is for the living.
Death is for the dead.
Let life be like music.
And death a note unsaid.
Raven was raised well aware of her powers and the fine line that separates the living from the dead. It is not easy for a child to grow up seeing spirits everywhere she goes, but in time seeing a spirit in the street was no different from spotting someone in a peculiar dress on the street. Her training was strict and demanding, but Raven knew no other life other than the one she was born into.
Report to the village chief by the guard captain said
The wind was howling even though we were in the middle of the forest, sheltered by trees, and there was no gathering of storm clouds. The horses were becoming so unruly we had to tether them at the edge of the river before we proceeded on foot. We were certain all those slain merchants were the work of brigands, nothing more, and the so called evil spirits were just the ramblings of common folk who let fear rot their brains.
I'm no superstitious man, sir, but the moment we arrived at the Bone Pit, we knew why it was so named. We had torches and the cave was well lit, but a wind blew and they went out... but for a moment. The light returned and by the time we got over our shock, we were quite ready to leave. Where the cave was nothing but dirt and rock before, now lay the bones of all the dead it had claimed. There was a loud rattling as the bones gathered and formed a single great white beast, the work of something sinister not of this world.
Some of us drew swords while the rest ran for the exit - but whatever we did, we knew that was our end. There was no way this beast was letting us leave without paying the toll of blood. It advanced, with a speed and fury unlike any beast known to man, and just as I was certain the screams of my dying man were soon to follow, the great beast stopped. Its gaze was drawn to something behind us.
There, stood a man in black armor, wielding a sword of gold and white. He was silent, his footsteps speaking for him as he strode past my men and put himself between the beast and us. "Steel cannot kill what is already dead." He said, before beckoning for us to leave. My men hastened to obey, but I didn't. I was too confounded - who was this madman who came in alone, aware of what lay ahead of him?
There was a blue glow around his blade as he attacked the beast, slicing through the joints between the bones and breaking through its many claws and spears and spines. "Go back to the land of the dead where you belong!" He roared before plunging his blade deep in the creature's skull, and with a dying wail that nearly made my ears bleed, the creature shuddered and fell apart. Not before it slashed with a long, sharp bone and broke the stranger's mask.
It was then I knew I had met one of these fabled Gravewalkers, and when he turned, surprise claimed me again, for very different reasons. The Gravewalker that saved my men and I was a woman, fair and untouched. She sighed and picked up the pieces of her mask before leaving the cave, walking right up to me and inquiring if there was a smith in town who could repair her mask. I nodded, dumb with shock, and only had enough sense to ask her name.
"Raven the Gravewalker." She replied quietly. "And the name of the blade that saved you is Waldeburg."
Waldeburg - "salvation of the slain in battle". Even their blades are named after death itself. Sir, I recommend we seal off the Bone Pit for good. Whatever evil may still reside there, I assure you that only the knights of death itself can defeat it.
Other:
Spirits are usually aware that Raven can see them, as such when she "talks to herself" she is actually communing with a spirit.[/center]