Special Equipment:

Enchanted Sword “Star of Tears and Blood”

Appearance:

Never Ending Silence stands 5 feet 10 inches tall, with a sort of lean muscularity about him. He is extremely strong, yet compact. His hair is a glossy black, roughly cropped in the Chevosian style, and his skin is a chalky, corpse pale, white, with very little of it’s former living hue. His lips are shiny and black, and black circles around his eyes give him a piercing stare. His eyes have no whites, but are instead black, with the only color being his red irises. He wears his black burial wrappings as his clothing, with sleeves of blood-red silk slipped on, and armor of bone and steel over that. He wears a dark cape, cut from the burial wrappings of his Ghostlord mistress. He behaves in a cold, haughty manner, considering the living and the spectres to be beneath him, and only his mistress, the Ghostlord known as Frozen Priestess Adorned With Bloody Feathers, is above him, in his world view. His is coldly murderous, vicious and meticulous in the extreme. He almost never smiles, and when on the unthinkable occasion that he laughs, it is a chilling noise.

Background:

Rain fell, wetting the boy. He no longer wept for his four brothers, nor his sister, nor his mother or father, all felled in the Great Devil Plague. The boy was the apprentice to the gravedigger, a job he recieved due to his fascination with death. “They’re dead, boy. Their spectres are in the Underworld, now.” his master had told him one day, spitting on the graves of his family. For breaking the ash jars, the boy had been sent out in this rain, and nobody had brought him back in. He lay, near frozen, before a mausoleum, as a gray dawn rose. Rain still. Nobody cared about the boy. Dying in the rain, the boy thought “Now I will join my family.” But no. A voice from the mausoleum, or the graves, or was it the air around him? A seductive voice, female, light, ethereal, inticing, arousing. “You are the one…You know the truth, don’t you? You know the truth…You see the sadness, the truth of death. Join me. Be my Death-Knight.” said the voice. The boy felt invisible arms, delicate and female, warm yet cold at the same time, sliding down his loose shirt, feeling his face and arms. The boy sold his true name to the Ghostlord that day, joined the ranks of the Underworld. He forgot his family, forgot his loss. He was given a new name, Never Ending Silence, to bind him forever to his mistress.

Never Ending Silence woke with a start, leaping from dreams of his former living existence. “I awaken!” he called, snapping for his slaves. The spectres appeared, carrying an ornate redware bowl, carved with serpentine channels, filled with implements for his bathing. The slaves filled his bathing pool with perfumed, warmed water, though the warmth made no difference to the dead. Never Ending Silence roused from his sleep couch, piled high with black and red pillows. It was all for show, for the richness of it. The dead had no need for sleep. The Death-Knight stepped into his bath, laying back and letting the water lap over him. His mistress was calling for him. He would serve her well.

Roleplaying Notes:

-As the best Death-Knight of Frozen Priestess Adorned With Bloody Feathers, Never Ending Silence is often dispatched on missions of exceeding importance to the Ghostlord.
-Never Ending Silence often trafficks with and uses demons in his endeavors. In fact, through bargaining with the demon-lord Morgladiir, he has acquired a kennel of erymanthoi demons as his personal slaves.

User Submitted Ideas (0)