Name? I don’t know…it’s been a while since I’ve spoken with anyone. Or even seen anyone. I think…I think it was Dismal. No…Dismas.
Age? It’s been countless years. Living here, rummaging for scrap. Sitting in the cesspit of this city’s ruin. I don’t know how old I am, any more. Old.
Gender? Male. That much I know for certain, thank the gods. Not that they deserve any thanks…
Class? I was a thief. I lived in the Burg, underneath all those pretty and expensive houses near the Parish. Then goat-face moved in…
Did you belong to a Covenant? Do you take me for some priest, a cleric? No. I do not belong to any covenant.
Your appearance? What did you look like before you Hollowed? Well, it would be an exaggeration to say that hollowing improved my appearance, but I was never exactly much of a looker. I’ve been in too many fights to count- scars ravage my body even when…’human’. My chin is too large, my brow too protruding. I still have what my mother called our family features, though. From when our family used to be lords of Carim. That was centuries ago… It doesn’t stop people from thinking I’m untrustworthy, though. Although, considering my profession…
Your Personality? I’m…I’ve always just carried on with life. I’ve always tried to survive. I’ve scrambled among the refuse and rubble of this city for so long. I want to get out. I want to end this mess, one way or another. Living like this is not living at all.
I know the city of Lordran- my home city, I’ve lived there all my life- better, much better than the back of my hand. It’s the one thing I can remember exactly about my life unhollowed. I used to run over the rooftops, under the gutters, through the sewers and on the walls of its buildings.
I hate the gods. They were meant to protect us, and look how that turned out. They wouldn’t even save us from the curse- the Dark Sign. Or they couldn’t…
Either way, they deserve not my respect, not least my worship.
How did you turn Hollow? I can’t remember. I’ve died so many times now…they’ve lost all meaning. Every death is the same. Every mad hollow the same blur of insane undead and recognised, old friend.