This is an rp focused on two characters who had known each other for a very, very long time. Once in life and again in death

A tale of a man betrayed and turned into a undead monster driven my hatred and vengeance. He once knew love and knew of what it meant to be human, now he is a shattered version of himself.

The other side of the story is a life long friend who stood by his side even in death, refusing to see the darkness that now devours his soul and forces him to commit the dark deeds he carries out in the name of vengeance.

The tale starts with the emergence of this undead man resurrecting his old friend, putting her back into his service and continuing on his conquest of blood and destruction

Draxis Felwind was once a Noble, and a knight of a high and honorable order. He was a very wise man and kept many strong people in his council, including one priestess named Anstass. She was a powerful healer, and well versed in matters of diplomacy. As a pacifist, she urged Draxis to avoid conflict whenever possible. However he had made enemies of other lords of the land due to his alliances and made trade pacts with those who others deemed too weak, or untrustworthy. This ultimately caused his downfall one night as he was assassinated by someone whom he thought was a close friend and a powerful ally, in a move that would grant the assassins benefactor a great deal of power and authority over the land and Draxis' trade deals. This caused a great dispute and many of his followers and friends to raise arms against the lords encroaching on the fallen lord's lands. The resulting years of war wrought destruction upon the land and sent Lord Draxis' lands into chaos. They became uninhabitable by any living being and became a breeding ground for the undead, with necromancers taking residence within the fel lands. Centuries passed and generations of necromancers passed through the lands only to one day disturb the tomb of Draxis.

In a dark ritual, the dark summoners weaved terrible magics to connect the broken and lost soul of the lord back to the shattered bones. This resulted in the creation of a being of pure rage. In the first moments after his resurrection, the shambling remains, held together by the ancient spirit, ripped into the necromancers and tore them limb from limb. The undead Draxis did not know who or what he was, only that he tasted life once again, only it wasn't life. It was death, it was rage, it was hatred. The man that was once compassionate and loving had become the opposite. He knew no mercy and no peace. Draxis' soul was consumed in the hellfires for centuries before he was revived as the shambling corpse he had become.

Several years passed, and his time as the unliving was wrought with danger and terror. His shambling and broken corpse terrorized the country sides and hallowed screams of the damned came from his bony mouth. A decade passed as he shambled around, killing anyone foolish enough to try and put him down, and he was approached by a powerful lich, promising to restore his mind to a "functioning" state and his body to a powerful one, worthy of his former office. So the Skeletal Draxis took the deal, pledging service to this undead master in return for power and a chance to seek vengence. The change was swift, mere minutes passed before Draxis was whole... or aleast partly so. His mind was still cracked, but he had a voice now, and could articulate thoughts once again. Putrid, rotted flesh came to cover his bones and muscles reformed to give him strength once more. His old face had returned, but it was decayed, and missing pieces.

His form and stature would not be described as large and bulky without his armor, under the armor he isn’t much more than decayed flesh and bone being held together by his own ethereal form. The bluish glow that emanates from his armor is flecks of his “spirit glue” or ghostly body seeping out.He stands at an above average height of 6’5’’ and a weight of nearly 190lbs . Under the helmet his face is noticeably decayed, with his lower jaw being held to the rest of his head by a few strips of flesh, muscle tissue and tendons, his sunken eyes so not much but blue wisps of his ghostly form and his nose, completely sheared off. Thin, wispy hair lingers upon his head and lays in front of his eyes, though this hair is no more than a pale grey.

The rest of his body is in similar form, large open wounds on his torso accompanied by missing ribs and internal organs show how truly dead this man is. His arms and legs seem functional if not almost untouched aside from decay around the joints of the knees, elbows and shoulders. His pelvic area is also worn down to the point where only flesh and muscle cling to the yellowed, old bones, leaving this bare area as the only connection point for his legs and torso. Around all of this, a blue mist that resembles his old human body hovers around and keeps the old, broken corpse together.

His armor however holds a dark, onyx-like appearance in color and holds onto a undead/demonic motif. His breastplate holds the face of a strange looking creature, whose eyes seem to leak the ghostly blue mist and holds a terrifying grimace. This face sits over layers of dark, obsidian plate that reflect the ghostly light in a pale blue. Connected to his breastplate are a set of horned pauldrons, sharing a similar demonic face with the breastplate. This face, however, does not emit the mist from the eyes, but instead, in each shoulder there is a set of sapphires embedded in the eye sockets of the black steel molded creatures. Plated gauntlets cover his arms and hands, only showing gaps in the joints of his elbows, wrists and fingers, though in these gaps can be seen a dark chainmail to keep his body armored. Adorned on his waist, a fauld made of a small cows skull and dark brownish grey cloth. Attached to this skull is a set of steel plates sharing a skeletal visage, each skull seeming to be adorned with a horned crown.

These plates lay against his layer plate, full leg boots, sharing a large similarity with the gauntlets in that the knees are not as heavily armored to allow for greater mobility. Upon his kneecaps sits yet another grim, skeletal face, with more sapphires in the eyes. Back up and to his shoulders lies a tattered, black cape that looks like it has seen many battles, this cape rises at the top slightly, to give a sort of nesting area for his glorious helm. His helm, made of layered plates bares no demonic or skeletal likeness, save for the horns that jut from the top of the helm and curve backwards slightly. The eye sockets of the helmet allow his true, ghostly eyes to be more noticeable, with the color of the energy coming from these outlets being a much brighter blue. The mouth of the helm is fairly plain looking, only bearing a mostly European style mouth guard.

[-w i p-]

Anstass was born to an unwed mother in the confines of a monastery in the kingdom of Lo-debar. Early in life, she was simply a matter to be handled discretely so the young woman and her family could be spared the disgrace that a reputation for lasciviousness would have brought upon them. Women monks within the temple served as midwives for the lass, and Anstass was kept to be reared by them.

Due to the debauchery and scandal surrounding her conception, Anstass was sort of stained for her teachers, as if they were teaching discipline to the woman who'd birthed her in her stead. She was corrected swiftly and harshly, and she was given no slack with which to misstep. She embraced the tutelage of her overseers, and became a devout and steadfast follower of the maiden goddess Pietas.

As Anstass developed as a monk, she began showing the abilities known as the Blessings of Pietas: the abilities to weave magic into songs, to harden her skin like stone, and to heal wounds and maladies. It was only when these abilities began manifesting in her that she was truly freed of her disgraceful origins in the eyes of the other monks. Her past was all but forgotten because she had achieved something that some monks never did: tangible proof of her acceptance by Pietas herself. She was sent southward to the desert to join the ranks of similarly gifted monks in the Southern Towers, home to the Choir of the Songweavers of Pietas, whom she'd be training to join.

Anstass was suddenly grouped with people similar to herself in temperament and ability. She spent long days in meditation and prayer, broken up with training sessions. Anstass was talented with the flute and with singing, and learned to sing incantations useful for healing and relieving pain as well as evading threats non-violently. The Southern Towers were known for their healers, so there were no shortages of the ill and wounded to tend to for practice. After two years in their training, she would assist newcomers in orientation and practice.

Anstass gained notoriety one day when she lead a class of new arrivals outside to practice manifesting stone skin to mitigate the effects of the heat upon them. The group was set upon by a Dracon in his dragon form who'd lost control of himself in his transformation. The Dracon were tribals who lived in the desert in the area, in their humanoid form bearing the wings and sometimes other features of a dragon, and shapeshifting fully into their forms at will.

Generally, they were peaceful, but this youngling had been cast out from his clan. A few fled in fear, but Anstass led those that remained in singing the Dracon out of his rage and panic. When his emotional equilibrium was restored, he shifted out of his bestial form and was grateful for their assistance. He was taken into their fold by their superiors until he was able to learn to control himself in a calm environment, and never failed to thank Anstass on sight. She became known as Anstass the Harmonious after that feat.

Anstass was inducted into the Choir, and made oaths of honesty, chastity, and pacifism. Not all monks took these oaths, but those within the Choir itself did, and were bound to them. To break the oaths made before Pietas was to lose the blessings one had been given by Her.

Lo-debar had a rival to the north, Bashar, and while the denizens of the monasteries were largely healers and pacifists, a war was going on between them. The King of Bashar lead his armies and battle mages into Lo-debar, sacking every town they passed on his march to the Southern Towers. The monks tried to stop the fighting, but in the end, the hexes of the battle mages merging with the counter magic from the monks had the ground heaving beneath them and strange things manifesting on the grounds. Most who fled were slaughtered, but Anstass was one who managed to escape. The Southern Towers were decimated, and even the land so poisoned by magical fallout that none could enter again. Nightmarish creatures spawned from the ether to inhabit the sands, and anyone entering was as likely to mutate as to be released by gravity and fall into the roiling black spiraling clouds perpetually above the desert in the area.

Once she'd passed through the northern border into Bashar, Anstass found passage in the cart of a farmer who had compassion for her plight. Anyone in the region would have noticed the obvious appearance of a monk, most notably the cleanly shaven head. He and his family provided her with a cloak and hood and as long as she needed to be lodged, though she didn't stay long. She survived by foraging, making the long trek to the eastern border of Bashar's lands and passing into nations she'd seen only by map.

It was only when she was out of the kingdom that she felt safe entering into towns and cities. She earned some small income by singing to entertain the patrons, paid more because she was able to inhibit violence through magic-infused lyrics than anything in some establishments. She was recognized as a monk, and the atrocities of Bashar against Lo-debar had traveled further and faster than she could have. It was not long until she was approached by the messenger of a Lord in the region, Lord Felwind, offering her political asylum if she would swear fealty to him.

Anstass had been born into a life of a religious renunciant. She had seen the garb and traveling accommodations of nobility in the past on those who sought healing for themselves or family members, but never had she imagined that such luxury and excess was so pervasive. There were men on his lands whose only labor was maintaining the aesthetics of the landscape, which was breathtaking for a desert-dweller anyway, with a multitude of flowers whose names she didn't know, even whose hues she'd never witnessed. His land seemed massive and abundant to her, excessive even, so she had imagined Lord Felwind would be a glutinous hedonist when she passed through his gates. He greeted her himself, and she found him to be neither, just that his norm was far more auspicious than her own.

She was given her own quarters separate from the manor itself, a little cottage that had formerly served as servant housing until the manor had been renovated for them. It was already furnished, though when it was discovered she had moved all of the furniture into a separate room and merely sat and took her meals in the floor, allowing only the cot within - albeit, in her opinion, of too luxurious a quality for herself alone - Lord Felwind had his servants remove the furniture so she could do with it as she pleased.

Anstass spent a couple of hours everyday visiting with the inhabitants of the manor, to tend to the wounded or check on their well-being. The rest of her days she spent in cleansing rituals meant to purge herself of her hatred for the king of Bashar, and her grief for those people she had come to love as family, and what she'd thought was going to be her home for the rest of her life. The monks tried to avoid desires and lusts, to be free from expectations, so that the turmoils in life could not shake them. She hadn't realized that she had such a leaning and such a desire for what she'd had, such an attachment to those things and people, until she knew how she felt when they were taken. Much of her meditation was spent sitting with feelings of a despair she'd never known, even weeping, sitting within her cottage with her legs folded and her eyes closed, or assuming the same pose within the orchard close to her accommodations.

There was a hollowness inside her where she felt something had died, something she hadn't noticed or known was within her until she experienced its absence. It felt as if her heart had turned to stone, her thoracic cavity cemented still like a tomb. She found herself plagued with nightmares when she slept, and suffering from intrusive memories and experiences when she was awake.

She did not make her plight known to Lord Felwind, conversing with him in the most cordial of tones, but he was exceptionally empathetic. He took it upon himself to have her gifted with one of his older hunting hounds, Seeker, who the Lord claimed would have been put down by his caretaker because he was no longer useful if she hadn't wanted to take it. The animal was large and tall, clearly an athletic beast, but with an enthusiast disposition toward all but his quarry. He was in good health and uninhibited, and she quickly realized that Seeker was a perfectly capable animal still. Having never had a pet in her life, she was uncertain of why Lord Felwind would mislead her about the animal's nature, but in the following nights, Seeker was steadfast by her side, and slept atop her blankets. If she awoke screaming, he was instantly upon her, as doting as one who'd known her for a lifetime, and no less perturbed by her own distress than she herself. It was then she truly understood the absolute benevolence of her host, and perhaps then that it could be said she first loved him in any capacity.

As Anstass began to find peace within again, she began spending more time among the people within the manor. Her greater wellness of spirit was marked by her ability to take greater interest in the goings-on of the people. She would traverse the lord's lands in the evenings, and on some such occasions, Lord Felwind would join her on such constitutionals. The maiden goddess Pietas was one goddess of a pantheon, not normally one of the focal points of most people's lives, and the southern towers had housed the most pious of the monks, so few beyond word of them knew much about their lives. Lord Felwind would inquire about life as a monk, never broaching the subject of horror to her, but allowing her to speak of those positive memories of her life. He was especially fascinated when it was revealed that she was blessed by Pietas, and particularly of the nature of musical magics upon healing and emotion, having not known of any magical inclinations she'd had and simply assuming she was a learned healer prior to the fact.

Lord Felwind began inviting her to perform for his guests, and it could be said that was her first foray into politics. It was through him that she became acquainted with many powerful people of many varying dispositions. She was also witness to conversations between him and his advisers, no more imposing playing the flute in the background to these men than a music box might have been. They considered her uneducated and therefor safe in the way a young child might be, though that sentiment would change in time.

Lord Bolivar was one who would change that, a man reknown for his very short fuse and nasty temperament, who was becoming a major thorn in Lord Felwind's side in matters of commerce. It was the opinion of his advisers that he should maintain a strong and unwavering front, that he should match aggression with aggression and show himself as unrelenting and powerful. During their evening walk, she asked Lord Felwind about the nature of his dealings, and whether he was convinced within his heart that his desired dealings would truly benefit Lord Bolivar as well. When Lord Felwind said they would, in fact, if the man would only see reason, Anstass suggested that perhaps the best course of action would be one detached from emotion and ego, giving the Lord Bolivar the deference that he must have dearly craved. He should poise any desired dealings in such a way as to make him come to that conclusion on his own, so he was participating in the creation of the idea rather than being presented with a ready-made one.

Lord Felwind pondered both methods and decided to hold a conference with Lord Bolivar, at which Anstass was present and infusing an air of pleasantness and soothing over the meeting. Lord Felwind was a masterful communicator, avoiding the topic of a deal entirely for the first hour of their conversation. Instead, it was of Lord Bolivar's family and feats, his good hunts, his exploits with women, his travels, and details of his life he might share with a friend. It was in that atmosphere that Lord Felwind posed not a proposition, but a problem he had been facing in his trade in an area that the Lord Bolivar was well-involved, that perhaps he might be able to provide advice for. It wasn't very long until the trade agreement was one that Lord Bolivar himself proposed with the same sort of unshakable tenacity and will with which he refuted any ideas imposed upon him.

Many disapproved of the idea of allowing a sheltered monk with no experience or education in politics, especially the politics of this region, to serve as an adviser in such a capacity, but she was soon part of the discussions rather than a flutist in the background. She was an ethical voice in the background, uneducated in war but unparalleled in empathy toward suffering, not gifted in matters of manipulation, but completely given to the idea of unfettered honesty and benevolent intention. In advice she was what she had always practiced to be: genuine, compassionate, well-intended, and a pacifist. She was neither loud nor abrasive, commanding or domineering, and she had no ego attached to whether she was heeded or not. Without even trying, she was very polarizing for his council. The more tempered among them who shared similar traits loved her, and those with the most ego resented her, but she stayed because she was asked by the lord himself, and - in her opinion - esteemed far too highly for speaking what she drew from age-old lessons of virtue and honor. The difference or commonality between her and the men seated seemed to just be a matter of how seriously they'd taken those lessons.

Lord Felwind was not the most popular man in the political arena, and having a monk as an adviser worsened that. His methodology in choosing those he traded with was not based on wealth or influence, but more involved with the ethics of the deal, and the character and integrity of the men making it. A massive accumulation of wealth did not make a a person morally sound or well-intended, and often times it seemed, the opposite was the true. But for those who Lord Felwind chose to deal and ally himself with, he found himself with steadfast and honorable company, men and women of valor. He also found himself deserted by a few of his council for the lack of greed in his decision-making, and no small amount of resentment for the pacifist among his ranks.

One of his departed, disgruntled advisers, maneuvered himself in league with one of the lord's more powerful enemies. He divulged as much as he could of the Lord's confidences, and among other things, began the very vicious rumor that he'd employed a witch to hex the minds of his partners and disguised her as a healer. He was paid very well for his treason, but this was the beginning of something very vicious for the Lord and all those in his association.

Lord Felwind's wife fell ill, and Anstass was excused from anything except serving as aid to the woman. She was weak and of poor constitution, and often experienced pain that even Anstass could not full alleviate despite all of her training. Anstass moved to staying steadfast by the lady's side, just as Seeker had faithfully been beside hers. The two of them had only had some minor interaction, but she found herself confidant to the whole of the lady's life, her wishes and dreams, her failures and regrets, her confessions, and her grief. The lady knew she was dying, and Anstass, while saddened, accepted the short lifespan of a newfound friend. When Lady Felwind passed, the Lord was lost to his grief, and Anstass became more of a shoulder for him than she'd ever been before. In times prior, he had been her benevolent Lord to whom she was loyal, and in this time, their relationship grew more personal than in any time before. By those who knew them, Anstass was described as a good companion and a kind-hearted monk who kept Lady Felwind from suffering. By those who despised them, Anstass was the witch who'd poisoned Lady Felwind to usurp her position, and used her wiles to find power over the noble if she had not hexed him herself.

After his wife's burial, Lord Felwind showed no interest in finding a partner, though many suitable women were brought to his attention. He retired himself more from his business, which those in his employ happily continued without bothering him. He busied himself as best he could, and he spent more and more time with Anstass, even sitting with her in the floor of her cottage and eating the vegetarian meals she was partaking in. Sometimes they spoke, others they didn't, but it was nothing short of serene for Anstass, and seemingly so for her companion.

After a year or so, as Lord Felwind eased himself back into his affairs, he had a meal prepared for himself and Anstass, meatless but in styles originating in the fallen Lo-debar. It was then he confessed a romantic love for her, and also then that Lord Felwind was politely rejected by the monk because of her pre-existing oaths. Despite this, he was never unkind to her, and even spared her much knowledge of his disappointment.

It was not long after this that they received word that Lord Bolivar and his men had slaughtered a group of Lord Felwind's traders and were heading to take the manor. According to the stunted version of the story they'd received, Lord Bolivar had been told that Anstass had hexed him during their meeting to make him comply with an agreement. He was humiliated and felt taken for a fool, and he intended to have her head for her impudence.

Lord Felwind assembled his troops for the first time since Anstass had known him. Where she'd mostly seen him in formal attire, he was suited in armor and out for blood. Anstass didn't have to make her objections known; her lord and friend already knew them. She did, however, tail the group on horseback, not bothering to ask permission she knew would not be granted.

When the group assembled atop a knoll across from Lord Bolivar and his men, Anstass tied her horse up further from them and walked out herself. Lord Felwind was, to say the least, displeased to see her, and demanded her a guard, which she insisted was unnecessary but was overruled. Lord Bolivar and his men charged and they were soon embroiled in a clash.

It was in this fight that both sides saw Anstass in a light they never had. She removed her hood and had skin of pure, smooth white, like living marble. Her irises were totally gone, and she looked like the statue of a monk on the field. Lord Bolivar and his men found themselves fighting men essentially impervious to injury because their wounds healed so swiftly, their pain was decreased. While his men felt they faced a witch, Lord Felwind's men felt they were aided by an angel, so the difference in morale was stark as well. Lord Bolivar soon found himself retreating, but not before one of his archers attempted to bury an arrow in the witch. The arrow impacted her as it might have stone, chipping her skin but ultimately doing no real harm.

Lord Felwind was perhaps too awe-stricken to be fully angry, though he was. When her marble skin was dropped, her chest was bruised where the arrow would have driven into her heart. It was a risk the Lord would not have had her take if he'd had his way, and he was more concerned than angry.

It wasn't a month later until Lord Felwind was assassinated. Anstass would have been killed in that attack, when they razed his manor to the ground, if not for Seeker waking and assaulting her would-be assassin. With the help of surviving guard and her own stone skin ability, she escaped.

Lord Felwind was dead, and it was rumored that his allies were teaming up with a witch. They were fiercely outnumbered, but her reputation with his allies, as well as the late Lord Felwind's, was enough to have them take up arms for her protection. They were outnumbered. During the battle that ensued, Anstass did her best to keep their men alive, but Lord Bolivar and his allies were beheading them and damaging them beyond healing with volleys of arrows. Finally, when her last charge was dead, she dropped her blessing of stone skin and let a blade pierce her heart. Her heart was broken anyway, and she had served her purpose, so in her last conscious act, she relinquished her life, and her soul to Pietas' graces.

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That is really good Jewels,

@RedNightHunter Thank you :) Still a WIP thus far but I'm excited about the story

@Jewels@LeoricAquila

Are you guys going to actually play this out, or are you just summarizing the story? And does Anstass come back after death as well? I also got the impression that monks, even the ladies, shave their heads. Am I correct, or did I misread something?

Were picking up at where Draxis finds the remains of Anstass

Fun~

@shylarah Yes, Anstass had a shaved head.

@Jewels Cool.