Post by areonhawk on Aug 19, 2012 2:55:13 GMT -5
Name: Kyrin Iros
Title: Divinus Pugnus, The Fallen Lord.
Age: 26
Height 5'3
Weight 125 Pounds.
Hair Short-Black.
Eyes: Dark Green.
Identifying Marks: Kyrin's body is covered in scars, tattoos, and bruises. He is also missing all four fingers on his left hand and his ring finger on his right. On his upper right shoulder that marks him for treason against Siranda... or at least what was Siranda.
(Kyrin the Fallen Lord)
Not so long ago things were different... my heart wasn't scarred and blackened... my soul wasn't cast in hellish flame.
I was born of noble blood in the house of Iros a family dedicate to the divines. I however had no stock in such divine beings. I found my calling as a Monk where the only temple was my body and the only superior in my quest was law. It kept my mind, body, and soul busy... away from my dark drives... the things that whispered to me in dreams and dwelled in the deepest ruins of my mind. However simply sitting around wasn't enough any more. The misery of the commoners was a stench I could not stand idle against, not anymore. So driven by my youth and naivety I set forth to cleanse the world of evil at the age of sixteen.
After two years of routing bandits, defeating brigands, and crushing gangs I stumbled upon the most beautiful and precious of gems. A young woman stolen away during a raid on her small village. There was something about her that stole away my breath and shook me to my very soul. I had seen some of the most beautiful ladies Siranda had to offer but none compared to her. A young woman kidnapped during a raid on her village for a fate that no one deserves. After cutting her bindings I learned her name was Alicia Feriun a name I found as intoxicating as her natural perfume.
Six months after freeing Alicia I had won her heart as she had so long ago stolen mine. By the end of the year we were in married before a fountain of Illmatter on a small island off the coast of Ludor. The two enjoy several years of peace and quiet as my birth right give me fortune. However after my first son's birth my father learned of Alicia's common blood. The fall out was horrible... My wife and son slain in their sleep and my father dead by my own hands for his sins. I wept that day, that was the last day I let my tears fall free. Even as that bound me in chains and branded me for death I wept for those I'd lost rather then my own future demise.
While imprisoned I met my master for the first time. a man of black robes ordered to be burned at the stake for acts of treason. A Necromancer who had plagued the most distant of places for years with his undead pets. He revealed the way for me... all the lies that flowed through these veins. He promised to show me the way to bringing my wife back in turn for freeing him from his own fate and I did. The blood that stained my hands that day... shattered with love I had for the martial arts. The tool I had used to hone my mind, body, and soul had been hammered into a weapon.
After that it was nothing more then long days of studying under my new master. Practicing the arcane arts and delving into the darkest of secrets that the universe held. In the end he left me just as I had left everyone else. However I remained there on a small island living in a old tower always searching for peace for a hopeless cause.
It wasn't long ago that the events that drove me out of my tower occurred. In a world of silence and isolation I saw the light. Not the light of redemption or success but the searing aura of a divine agent... a Paladin. Our battle spanned from my study to the roof. In the end I was ran through... my fingers cut off in an attempt to catch his blade. I would have died that day knowing that I died to the naive mind of those who still saw good in this world. However as my vision was flooded over with darkness a sensation over took me... a pain so great I felt as if Hell had come to greet me. He severe the finger that held my wedding ring. The ring was precious to me... but the act was much greater. This wasn't some idealist Paladin come to herald the day against some agent of evil. This was a servant of his house come to erase the 'mistakes' of their son. With my last breath I drove my foot into his stomach and watched as he fell to the jagged spires that surrounded the tower. His death throe was like music to my deafened ears.
My Familiar Avan aided in my recovery he and my pet Pox were all who stood beside me in my time of need. It sent shivers down my spine knowing that no one cared about me save for a Raven and a Hellhound. Thus I returned to Kalaram my place of birth... this once proud city was now nothing more then a mass grave surrounded by a sea of the risen dead.
Title: Divinus Pugnus, The Fallen Lord.
Age: 26
Height 5'3
Weight 125 Pounds.
Hair Short-Black.
Eyes: Dark Green.
Identifying Marks: Kyrin's body is covered in scars, tattoos, and bruises. He is also missing all four fingers on his left hand and his ring finger on his right. On his upper right shoulder that marks him for treason against Siranda... or at least what was Siranda.
(Kyrin the Fallen Lord)
Not so long ago things were different... my heart wasn't scarred and blackened... my soul wasn't cast in hellish flame.
I was born of noble blood in the house of Iros a family dedicate to the divines. I however had no stock in such divine beings. I found my calling as a Monk where the only temple was my body and the only superior in my quest was law. It kept my mind, body, and soul busy... away from my dark drives... the things that whispered to me in dreams and dwelled in the deepest ruins of my mind. However simply sitting around wasn't enough any more. The misery of the commoners was a stench I could not stand idle against, not anymore. So driven by my youth and naivety I set forth to cleanse the world of evil at the age of sixteen.
After two years of routing bandits, defeating brigands, and crushing gangs I stumbled upon the most beautiful and precious of gems. A young woman stolen away during a raid on her small village. There was something about her that stole away my breath and shook me to my very soul. I had seen some of the most beautiful ladies Siranda had to offer but none compared to her. A young woman kidnapped during a raid on her village for a fate that no one deserves. After cutting her bindings I learned her name was Alicia Feriun a name I found as intoxicating as her natural perfume.
Six months after freeing Alicia I had won her heart as she had so long ago stolen mine. By the end of the year we were in married before a fountain of Illmatter on a small island off the coast of Ludor. The two enjoy several years of peace and quiet as my birth right give me fortune. However after my first son's birth my father learned of Alicia's common blood. The fall out was horrible... My wife and son slain in their sleep and my father dead by my own hands for his sins. I wept that day, that was the last day I let my tears fall free. Even as that bound me in chains and branded me for death I wept for those I'd lost rather then my own future demise.
While imprisoned I met my master for the first time. a man of black robes ordered to be burned at the stake for acts of treason. A Necromancer who had plagued the most distant of places for years with his undead pets. He revealed the way for me... all the lies that flowed through these veins. He promised to show me the way to bringing my wife back in turn for freeing him from his own fate and I did. The blood that stained my hands that day... shattered with love I had for the martial arts. The tool I had used to hone my mind, body, and soul had been hammered into a weapon.
After that it was nothing more then long days of studying under my new master. Practicing the arcane arts and delving into the darkest of secrets that the universe held. In the end he left me just as I had left everyone else. However I remained there on a small island living in a old tower always searching for peace for a hopeless cause.
It wasn't long ago that the events that drove me out of my tower occurred. In a world of silence and isolation I saw the light. Not the light of redemption or success but the searing aura of a divine agent... a Paladin. Our battle spanned from my study to the roof. In the end I was ran through... my fingers cut off in an attempt to catch his blade. I would have died that day knowing that I died to the naive mind of those who still saw good in this world. However as my vision was flooded over with darkness a sensation over took me... a pain so great I felt as if Hell had come to greet me. He severe the finger that held my wedding ring. The ring was precious to me... but the act was much greater. This wasn't some idealist Paladin come to herald the day against some agent of evil. This was a servant of his house come to erase the 'mistakes' of their son. With my last breath I drove my foot into his stomach and watched as he fell to the jagged spires that surrounded the tower. His death throe was like music to my deafened ears.
My Familiar Avan aided in my recovery he and my pet Pox were all who stood beside me in my time of need. It sent shivers down my spine knowing that no one cared about me save for a Raven and a Hellhound. Thus I returned to Kalaram my place of birth... this once proud city was now nothing more then a mass grave surrounded by a sea of the risen dead.