Description
Distant and hollow screams of anguish pierce the cold air as you capture a
glimpse of the acolyte of death before you. Black light weeps out from the
blade of her scythe, spiralling down into the mist below. The mist surrounds
her lower half, constantly trying to escape like heavy air from a flask. As
you begin to stare you notice tormented apparitions slowly circling her,
clawing up from the ground desperately trying to fight for her attention.
She wears an elaborate bodice, laced tightly at the front with silver thread.
Her upper arms are exposed, revealing soft, white skin. White enough to make
a pale person seemed sun-kissed. From elbow to fingertip she wears black brac
etched with silver runes that seem to pulse rhythmically with her breath.
If her dark art wasn't obvious enough, her face leaves you with no doubt.
Pasty white and flawless, she looks out from behind long, silver hair that
falls loosely down her chest and back. Her eyes are encased in black eye-
shadow that leaves long, stark streaks down each cheekbone. Her lips are
thin and taut, ready to whisper her next spell of pain and suffering.
Role
18th of the Month of the Frost Giant in the year 189
Added Thu Feb 6 04:44:40 2020 at level 31:
The three mountain kingdoms teetered upon the edge of a knife, the life
of peace they enjoyed was veiled thinly with accusation and aggressions.
It was how life had been for generations. The far north domain was harsh
and although these communities shared no love for each other, they were
forced to rely on each other intimately for survival. Trade was the life
blood of these kingdoms, each providing the other with a lacked resource
that allowed them to survive as the harsh winters mercilessly desolated
the innocence of the north.
Though change was upon the air this year and depending on perspective it
was either welcomed with open arms or rejected with the length of drawn
sword. A wedding was about to take place and form a union between two of
the three great northern strongholds. A brief time of peace would follow
this union as tensions began to rise amongst the outcast factions. There
were whispers of revolution and uprising from those who stuck to the old
ways with the grim determination granted to those hardened by the north.
Spring time arrived with the sounds and scents of sheltering iron. A war
was upon the horizon but for their greatest threat was yet to reveal her
claim upon death. With her life came death, Izratulah they named her for
the curse she would bring. Plague spread amongst the northern kingdom as
the uprising clashed with with full force upon the noble rampart and the
idea of final vengeance filled their hearts with rage and sorrow. Death
walked that day, scythe in hand - for whatever life survived the culling
of iron was claimed by the cruel embrace of the plague.
The soldiers made it to the royal chambers where figures lay tortured in
death with the ravenous visage of plague. Blood kissed naked blades as a
weak light betrayed the presence of a bassinet in the corner of the dark
chambers. If their kingdoms were to fall, at least let this be vengeance
granted to appease their loss. They stalked like wolves in the mist, but
there was no life in this room but theirs. The bassinet lay empty, the
child was gone.
And the order they all once cherished had been sacrificed for nothing...
1st of the Month of the Spring in the year 189
Added Thu Feb 6 04:46:48 2020 at level 31:
Smoke mingled with the mists as the wet nurse smuggled the defiled child
from outbreak of war and plague that illuminated the mountains beyond in
a ravenous hue of red. Blood was shed upon the night claimed by death.
She removed her cloak from herself and covered the shivering child with
the embroidered emblem of the scythe. It was the emblem of their people,
for they were blessed enough to born into the fields of prosperity. The
cold, harsh northern lands had few mercies as grand as these fields that
had fed families for generations as well as provided them the most power
and influence in the north.
Though this was a legacy that Izratulah would leave behind. She would be
raised with nothing but the cloak of her mother and the dark impartation
of defiled memories upon her mind. She would obsess about death. Despise
the unruly. She would take meaning from the scythe and obsess about the
plague that brought about the destruction of her utopia. The trauma of
that night would linger with her like the whispering wind to the haunted
soul of innocent death and it would turn her into the abominable.
A legacy of reaping grain would soon became one of reaping souls. It was
only a matter of time until she began studying the arts of necromancy,
just as it was only a matter of time until she was drawn to the Spire as
it stood proudly for her unrealised dreams. What would happen next for
the young mistress of death? Only time would reveal the vengeance of her
black heart as she aspires to create unquestionable order upon the land
and home she now knows as Thera.
PK Wins
Jan 30, 2020|Lv 14|Hamsah Mu'tazz|Caboxl vs 1: [14] Izratulah (100%, prismatic spray)
Jan 31, 2020|Lv 15|Khalid River|Shuno vs 2: [18] Aeramir (43%, claw), [15] Izratulah (56%)
Feb 7, 2020 |Lv 33|The Ruins of Ostalagiah|Dorlangan vs 1: [33] Izratulah (100%, punch)
Feb 7, 2020 |Lv 33|The Fields of Balator|Dorlangan vs 1: [33] Izratulah (100%, punch)
Feb 7, 2020 |Lv 33|The Imperial Lands|Tifuthies vs 1: [33] Izratulah (100%, pummeling blow)
Feb 8, 2020 |Lv 33|The Dragon Sea|Eilduin vs 1: [33] Izratulah (100%, hit)
Feb 8, 2020 |Lv 33|The Drogran Hills|Joial vs 1: [33] Izratulah (100%, deathly touch)
Feb 8, 2020 |Lv 34|Graveyard|Shuno vs 1: [34] Izratulah (100%, shocking bite)
Feb 11, 2020|Lv 36|The Eastern Road|Nossos vs 1: [36] Izratulah (100%, claw)
Feb 13, 2020|Lv 39|Hamsah Mu'tazz|Tifuthies vs 2: [40] Krata (84%, rending gale), [39] Izratulah (15%)
Feb 15, 2020|Lv 41|The Dwarf Forest|Polunt vs 1: [41] Izratulah (100%, ) *Power Word Kill*