Description
Black circles of light hover around the hands of this woman.
She wears jet black robes which cover her body loosely, tied
at the waist by a thin piece of crimson silk. Her skin is an
unhealthy, almost ghastly, white which is in stark contrast
to her black lips, eye shadow and crimson eyes. She looks
relalatively thin, bordering on malnourished. You notice a
wry smile creep onto her gothic face.
Role
A Dying Curse
Added Wed Aug 17 07:24:34 2005 at level 20:
Many thousands of years ago, when most of Thera remained unexplored,
there lived a man who was said to be half human, half undead. He
occupied a small section of forest west of the ancient city of Midgaard.
This man made weekly trips into Midgaard, during the night, to steal
its citizens to feed his black art. Most were too afraid to try to put
a stop to his rituals, but those that did were met with unspeakable
pain and death. Little was known about him, but rumor had it that
he was a slave from the circles of Hell who had returned to complete
some unfinished business. He had constructed a cursed grove around
his dwelling, which served as a timely reminder for all to not venture
too far west into the forest. Within this grove were wraiths, waiting
for the odd troll, or lumberjack to stray into their collective grasp.
Over hundreds of years, the man collected and studied the souls of
the innocent. He had gathered what he though was enough information
to be of use to those in the burning depths. He considered himself
prepared to re-enter into the circles of Hell, and made his way back
through the Dark Woods. It was within the circles that he was to be
granted full immortality. His destiny was not what he had hoped, for
at the gates of Hell he was confronted by death spirits. They withdrew
the timeless essence from his soul and by doing so, made him mortal
once more. His body immediately gave out on him, and with his last
spiteful gasp, he cast a terrible curse on Thera. His final gift...
.. Sylentia.