[center]N P C  C h a r a c t e r[/center] 
[center][h3][i]The Turncloak [s]Blade[/s] [color=Gold]King[/color][/i]
§[/h3][/center]

[center][i]S t a t u s[/i] 
[b]Dead / Unknown[/b][/center]

[center][img]http://i1298.photobucket.com/albums/ag58/Silux45/52491e93-5306-4a1a-b212-ad61d8fa3ffa_zps2mdp5eex.jpg[/img][/center]

[center]Here is a Man who shows not his face as he walks, and walk long and far does he. His armour is heavy and stifling, yet it phases him not. Few are graced with conversation with the Turncloak Blade, and fewer still are given the honour of traveling alongside him. He seems to have come from no place, and his memories are all but faded. Some say he is a wandering husk, ready to strike out against those who approach on a whim. Others disagree and say he is a gentle heart contained within an irremovable clad of cold steel. His halberd seems to be coated fresh with the blood of a new creature every day, whether the blood is of human or otherwise origin is not known to many. 
Perhaps you have caught the glimpse of his footsteps amidst the dust, or perhaps you have even seen his suit glistening in the horizon, befallen by the thin, wintery light. He seems to have purpose and direction. Those wise souls who have been granted the chance to trace his steps would do well to take the opportunity. But do not anger this hulk of a Man, and do not push him. His blade hungers for the kill, and he is only so inclined to disregard that desire. [/center]