Name: Nevis Ysbrid. Nevis, in reference to a mountain, and 'ysbrid,' literally meaning 'ghost, apparition, phantom, wraith.'
Stats for
Rynn's roleplayStarting Stats
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Race: Astoran
Bio:History: Nevis was born seemingly humble origins; a dirt-poor freeman and wife, between the city and the countryside. Beneath this simple appearance lay something much darker; the father, once knight of the underworld who relinquished his trade, and his mother with a history of abuse and the child of a soldier, was born with something strange inside him. This child inherited an animosity perhaps unlike any other, a seed of hatred with a potential yet unseen by the world. Perhaps, the Dark itself sensed this potential and touched the babe before he was even born, creating him as its perfect champion. And, yet...
The child grew in a far kinder, more loving environment than most of any class. He was intelligent, kind sweet. The seed went unnutured and did not sprout.
The child, though, was enamored with stories of masters of a craft, those who bore a single skill of legendary, unequaled proportion. He compared himself to his heroes, and wondered what his gift was. Test what he would, experience what may come, he found none that awoke the deepest recesses of his soul as he knew it should. Years passed, and the child of six grew anxious and frustrated, and even depressed. One day, the child sobbed aloud to the heaven, tears upon his face to tell him, answer him, what his greatest potential was. And it answered.
The seed awoke within him, and he felt a hate beyond at the very limit of what a human may harbor. The child, terrified, closed his heart, his emotions, by becoming empty, by turning his heart into nothing. Dead inside, the child nearly made himself the same without. For his family, though, he stayed his hand, and grew.
Years passed, and he grew ever further more distant and unusual. He believed himself unseen, not understood. And how could they? They, who would not understand, let alone believe his plight. He spent more time with books and stories than with people, and wrote much. He had a gift for it, especially poetry, though he payed little attention to it. His education suffered, though, as he was unwilling. Incomplete and inexperienced, his outer existence began to mirror his within; nothingness.
Then, during a hollow outbreak, he died.
And then, the Darksign branded his corpse.