[CHAR] The Prophecy of Ash (A Dark Souls RP) ~Re-Boot?~

[Dark Cloud]

^{Ceolfrid - Defender of the Dark (Inactive)
Iron-willed Odunir (Inactive)
Lorkan Du'Pree - The Erstwhile Scholar (Active)}

Locations

Major Locations

The Forsaken City of Anor Londo

"There is no salvation for the forsaken undead of Anor Londo."
^{Brother Adelarde, of the Last Ember}

Cast down by the fanatics of the Last Ember into the darkness of the ruined city of Anor Londo. This is the fate that awaits those deemed a heretic by the Cult, a worse punishment than imprisonment or flogging is to be trapped in such a realm of eternal night. All sense of times passage is lost without the light of day and without light many lose hope, and inevitably their sanity as the darkness gnaws away what humanity they had left. Once lost the hollowed begin to stalk through the shadows, ready to drag the unwary into the inky blackness where the screams of the damned are never heard. The only light in Anor Londo is the ever present full moon that sheds a pale light over the city district, where only lunatics roam attacking anything that gets close.

Only within the relative safety of the ruined cathedral few have gathered to huddle in the dark halls lit by the pale light of the cold moon, sitting in silence around the glowing embers of a once bright bonfire.

The Sanctuary of New Londo

"Let our fiery convictions burn away the sins of the four who ruled here."
^{Brother Adelarde, of the Last Ember}

Underground beneath the cracks and crevasses of the earth lie a city that had once stood long forgotten by the world, a grim reminder of a dark past.

But then the fires faded to only embers, awakening a new light within the depths of New Londo.

A group of men and women came calling themselves the followers of the Last Ember devout to their lady Gwynevere, soon the empty darkness was filled with harsh light cast of by unnatural fire. At the very center of New Londo an old temple was uncovered with four statues at it's steps. It is here now where the heretics deemed abominations to the faith are burnt by fire and fed to the bonfire of the last embers gathered throughout the darkening lands.

Factions

Major Factions

The Order of the Last Ember

"Cast yourself into the fire, let your bodies keep the flames alive."
^{Archbishop Olgrid, of the Last Ember}

TBA

[DELETED jdl3932]

Ceolfrid - Defender of the Dark

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<sub>"I will see the cult pay for their crimes...

One life at a time."
— Ceolfrid</sub>

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Place of Birth: Astora. A human kingdom outside Lordran, it is a land known for its traditional knights, clergy, and nobility. The Way of White originates from here, is very proactive about removing Undead, and sponsors great hunts to round them up and forcibly transport them to an asylum on the edge of Lordran. Clerics and knights within the Way of White who become Undead are sent to Lordran on a pilgrimage, where they are told to search the Catacombs and learn the Rite of Kindling. At some point in the past, a terrible beast known as the Evil Eye attacked the kingdom of Astora, causing great damage. It was defeated, and its spirit is rumored to be trapped in a magic ring.

Gender: Male.

Status: Currently hollow.

Biography
"I was born the son of a noble house whose name has long since faded into the dark, forever forgotten. I was trained as all those of higher status were, although I took to combat most keenly of all, the goal of my youth being the emulation of those proud and glorious knights that had so faithfully defended our land. My sister on the other hand, whose face fades from memory even now, took to studying the esoteric and the arcane. Schools of magic, the thinking and rationale of which I simply could not grasp even if I had wanted to. In any case, our paths saw us diverge, for I found myself a squire and she a cleric - oddly enough - in service to the Way of White. Despite the strangeness of her choice, I was unable to pay it much mind, for my days were long and brutal. Being filled with training of all manner and kind, long spates of which made me question my younger self and wonder if I was really cut out for knighthood after all.

Thankfully these challenges did not last long, and soon I found myself with everything I'd worked so hard to attain. Foolishly I thought my life was finally at its apex, that a bright future was all that lay ahead.

Oh how wrong I was. How very, very wrong...

Its arrival was sudden, like a raging tempest in the midst of spring. Darkness without borders nor restraint swept across the land. Men went mad as women and children offered up their lament, while the earth itself was twisted into something altogether wrong. Beasts stalked the living and horrors roamed the wilderness, devouring those they came across. It was during this time that I returned to the city of my birth, having to cut my way through the abomination ridden streets, my destination the church where I knew my sister to be. It was here that she first demonstrated her mastery of the dark, and thus her true reason for following the Way of White, for they had the scraps of knowledge after which she hungered sequestered within the confines of their libraries. I was shocked to say the least, and just the least bit afraid, having seen what the darkness could do already. But I trusted her, for she had never given me reason for doubt in the past, and was unlikely to do so now. Together we made to depart that accursed land, traveling east until we reached the border of Lordran, till we reached our greatest mistake. Salvation was, we thought, just within our grasp until we crossed paths with the cult. They took us in at first, welcomed me and my sister with open arms even as they shared their cause, that being to rekindle the First Flame and bring light back to the world.

As time went on however, it became increasingly clear that they were not as benevolent as they had first appeared. It soon became apparent that they did not tolerate dissent, labelling those they disagreed with heretics before casting them forth into the ruins of Anor Londo. It wasn't until they discovered my sisters magics that things finally came crashing down, for they took us from our tents as we slept and bound our hands and feet with rope before dragging us to our judgement. They proclaimed us both heretics twofold, my sister for cavorting with the very forces that had brought ruin upon our once fair world, and myself for defending her. Thus, with such a heavy proclamation made, they sentenced us both to death on the spot. My sister's head rolled before mine did, but unlike me she did not rise again under the influence of the Darksign, under the curse of undeath and in the shadow of Anor Londo. To this day I cannot fathom why we were forced to suffer such a cruel and unjust fate, but there is one thing I know for sure.

I will see the cult pay for their crimes...

One life at a time."

Personality: In the time before his first death and subsequent Hollowing, many described Ceolfrid as a brash - if determined and headstrong - man with a heart of gold that had set itself entirely on the stalwart defense of Astora and her people. Much like the kingdom's knights both old and new, the ranks of which he'd imagined himself joining when naught but a child. Following his first death however, all of the goodness he once possessed was brutally torn from him, a flame of vengeance imperishable quickly rising in its stead. Now he seeks nothing but the Cult of Ember's final end, and will not hesitate to kill anyone or anything that keeps him from achieving that goal. Not only because doing so would see him finally avenge the death of his sister, but also because his hate for them is the only thing that keeps him from going completely hollow. For just as love may move mountains, so to may hate, the two being uniquely and unmistakably...

Human.

Skills

• Trained Combatant: As a squire Ceolfrid became quite skilled in the use of not only the blade, but things such as hand-to-hand combat and the usage of blunt weapons as well, and he has only refined his skills since then. In spite of this expertise, however, he can still be caught off-guard and bested just like anyone else, though unlike them he may rise again. If he strikes his opponent down, however, they usually don't get back up.
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• Armorer: While not a master of the forge by any means, Ceolfrid is more than capable of maintaining and repairing his gear, so long as it is something he has worked with before. For items of a more exotic or foreign persuasion however, he will quickly find himself befuddled. Additionally, he cannot do anything with a piece of equipment if he does not have the required materials or a place in which they may be utilized.
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• Acrobat: Although not many would think of dexterity or agility as a skill per se, in the case of an individual covered in several pounds of plate armor like Ceolfrid, it most certainly is. As a matter of fact, it was one of the very first things he learned after general military tactics and horseback riding, not to mention the most useful given how bad things are nowadays. Thus it often pays more for him to simply dodge or parry an attack rather than block one outright, especially where more magically inclined or monstrous enemies are concerned.

Equipment

• x1 Astoran Straight Sword: A straight sword forged for and belonging to Ceolfrid, this is a very high-quality weapon, albeit one bereft of both magic and blessings. Despite this the weapon is still far better in terms of condition and make than most of the junk you can find hidden behind the decrepit walls of Anor Londo.
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• x1 Parrying Dagger: This dagger is useful for parrying and Ceolfrid normally holds it in his off-hand so that he can easily hook or interrupt an opponent's blade. This tactic doesn't exactly work on most other weapons - such as axes or hammers for example - though, which restricts its range of effective use to bladed weapons at best.
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• x1 Steel Plate: Although customized somewhat, the hood and fabrics were not part of the armor's original design, this suit of mail and plate still works marvelously well. It shows its age and experience sure, but on the whole it can still keep a blade, axe, or arrow at bay well enough. The areas in which it struggles are against blunt-force weapons such as war hammers, projectiles designed to pierce or burn or freeze such as crossbow bolts or various elemental spells, and weapons designed to bypass or exploit the numerous layers of protection heavy armor provides like daggers or knives.

Other

• While his main motivation is revenge and his general demeanor is gruff at the best of times, Ceolfrid is not above working with those he finds worthy of his trust. And, though he will not hesitate to end those who seek to forcibly turn him from his path, he will not take pleasure nor pride in the act if he and they happened to be particularly close.
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• Ceolfrid typically wears keeps his straight sword tucked away in a sheath on his left hip, since his right-hand is dominant, and his dagger in a sheath on his right for easier access. When in combat he will either use one or both depending on the scenario and weapons his opponent brings to bear.
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• While he used to ride horses, recent developments regarding the corruption or depopulation of local equine breeds has rendered this skill moot and thus not worth mentioning as a result.

[Argetlam350]

Iron-willed Odunir

Iron-willed Odunir

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May the sun shine your path to glory.

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Place of Birth: Berenike

Gender: Male

Appearance: A picture of your character and/or a short description of your characters appearance, if you want tell us what they look like as a hollow as well.

Status: Hollow

Biography:
One of the last Berenike Knights in Lodran that has their wits about them. He came to Lodran with his fellow Berenike Knights, following under the mighty Iron Tarkus on a fateful journey. He wound up separated from the group down in the depths of the wretched Blighttown, though he clawed his way from the putrid filth and make his way to Sen's Fortress to discover tragically that those he once called friend were now mindless husks, attacking all that they saw. His personal goal was to end their tragic suffering, seeking out his once former comrades throughtout Lordran and making them meet their final end on his blade. His journey took him to the abandoned city of Anor Londo where he found the resting place of Iron Tarkus, a name that is a distant memory in his mind. With each passing day it becomes harder to remember the faces and names of those he once fought with.

He himself nearly succumbed to madness until his eyes beheld the beauty of the daughter of Sunlight. No words could describe her but witnessing her gave him hope and a new purpose. For now he shall remain as part of her service, though in sleep he sees a peaceful snowy place that perhaps he shall find when he is needed no more.

Personality: He is a rather stoic man, a knight of honor that is faithful for whatever mission or journey he is set on. Whatever it takes to upheld his lady's will so shall it be. Despite the serious nature of his, behind it is also a joyous man that manages to hang on his sanity as best he can.

Skills:
Iron Will - With his size he is by no means quick, but what he lacks in swiftness he makes up in raw strength. Able to lift some of the heaviest weapons that few would find practical for combat. A shield for his allies if they may need to make a retreat from a tough foe.

Armorer - Not the greatest but enough to keep his armor and weapons from fully breaking and ready to take on any foe.

Equipment:

1x Old Berenike Armor - The armor that he wore when he and his comrades journeyed into Lordran. The armor has lost its shine since that time and is no where near as strong as it once was. He has yet to have the heart to leave it behind.

1x Mace - A blunt weapon that is good for bashing foes that stand in his path. While he would prefer a larger, powerful weapon, he makes do of the mace for the time being as his old greatsword has since been lost to the perilous Sen's Fortress when he was seeking out and disposing his old friends from their cursed misery.

1x Battered Shield - An old shield from Berenike. What once was proud and strong, now was weathered and worn from blocking all forms of weapons and foes. While not the greatest in appearance it still holds true though how long it shall last is hard to say.

1x Old Medallion - A medallion with the shape of the sun on it. Once it had a face though now it has been worn away. Given to him by a rather strange knight seeking his own 'Sun'. He hoped that perhaps that knight found what he was looking for. The medallion has no other value besides as a memento to the old knight.

Other:
n/a for now

[BigPapaBelial]

Loony Bin?

Name: Lorkan Du'Pree

Monikers: The Erstwhile Scholar, The Shunned Student

Place of Birth: Vinheim

Gender: Male

Appearance: Standing some 6 feet tall even, thin and severe, with long lanky black hair that reaches under his shoulders. His skin is pale and waxy textured. His fingertips have been nearly permanently stained an inky black because of years spent writing papers, and then after a fateful event long hours spent writing out personal notes and spell formulas. He will often be found wearing Vinheim student attire but since he is no longer with the school he has had it customized to be made of black soft leather. The cap changed into a broad brimmed hat, similar but not to the degree of another famous scholar.

Status: Unhollowed

Biography: Growing up in Vinheim, pretty much from day one Lorkan had been fascinated with Sorcery. He'd watch from the sides of the street while helping to sell his families shoes at their cobbler's workhouse. As he would help to nail the leather soles to the base of the shoe he'd look over towards the school and watch the sorcerers and scholars come and go. A time or two in his youth he saw none other then Big Hat Logan come and go. He'd watch in awe as Sorcerer's would come out sometimes to show their spells to people and advertise the merits of entering the Dragon School.

He aged as all humans do, and when he was old enough he managed to procure a scholarship, and entered the school as a student. And though he wasn't as high on the social totem pole as some within the walls he was studious and intelligent. He worked hard. And gained the right to learn the secrets of sorcery. Some of so called greater standing would try to bring him down, but he'd soldier on. Using everything his scholarship would be able to give him. Soon outstripping those naysayers.

But then that's the main reason he fell. Him doing so well not only gained him enemies among the young lords and ladies who studied at the School, but it also left him often without anything to study and learn. So he began to branch out. Always with the promise never to touch the darker of the soul arts of course. When once in the library he found himself in a dark quiet corner, and there on a pedestal left out perhaps by someone by accident was a journal of a place long lost. Words like the Abyss, and Dusk, and Oolacile. He didn't know what it was, but in it he found the blueprint to a spell.

Weeks later he thought himself alone late at night at a practice ground. His Soul Spears and Soul Arrows and Soulmass came easily as he practiced. Until he couldn't resist. Taking his catalyst in hand...and the burst of magic was heady. A black blast of sorcery raced across and obliterated the target. He panted grinning from ear to ear. There had to be more to learn. And there was, but he never learned a new spell. He practically lived in the Library gaining a pale complexion and waxy skin. He studied every book he could find about the Abyss. Until one day he was found by three students and four teachers. Hunched over a lectern amongst piles of old tomes.

A tribunal called, and he was accused of studying magic that is forbidden. He would argue that as Dragon School students was it not their right to study all types of sorcery? The tribunal of the headmaster and other teachers would find him guilty. Banned form the school, exiled from Vinheim. But the addiction still held strong. A need to find more of those dark magics. Learn them all. And Prove the Vinheim School wrong. He journeyed to Anor Londo, and the areas around it, in hopes of finding more. For the books spoke of there being an Abyss there. And the Abyss had yet to steer him wrong.

Personality: A determined, and driven Sorcerer. Quiet and direct as he knows what he wants to do and there is little else he wants to do. He will care for himself, eat, sleep what have you, but he has a personal quest and he is dead set on doing that. He at this point may not be completely sane, his quest to learn more dark sorceries is all that is on his mind, that and the heady burst of pleasure from casting them.

Skills:

Dragon School Sorcery(Positive Skill) - Knowing almost all of the base Soul Spells. The Arrows and the Spear and the Soulmass, as well as a single Dark Orb sorcery.

Bookish Intelligence(Neutral Skill) - A student and researcher at heart. He's gained a great deal of book knowledge. But is somewhat inexperienced in real life knowledge.

Addicted to Forbidden Knowledge (Negative Skill) - Having had a taste of dark soul magic, he now has the addiction that brought places like New Londo and Oolacile low, an addiction to dark things.

Equipment: Sorcerer's Catalyst, with a clear caduceus pattern to it. Dark dyed leather Vinheim scholars outfit. Unadorned short sword for personal defense. A backpack full of supplies, food, water and magical scrolls and parchment and writing tools.

Other: Calling dibs on the first to go right mad as a hatter before the end of the RP.