"I will see the cult pay for their crimes. One life at a time."
— Ceolfrid
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, and 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 knowledge after which she hungered locked away within 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 one thing I do know for certain.
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 rather 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 does hate, both feelings being uniquely and unmistakably...
Human.