Monarch of Dusk
Visimar Nachttrinker
Gentle sounds of metal clattering on metal resonated from the old tower. Within it's height stood a throne of plain Sarakanium, seated by a man. Idly tapping clawlike gauntlets against the armrest, the figure gazed out over the empty hall, as the shadows from gothic walls loomed ever closer. By the entrance to the top room, a shaded figure stood. A visage of a Dyskhari man covered in purple shaded and pulsating tendrils entered the room. A slow stride forwards revealed a face covered with three violet eyes, spikes grown from shoulders and a hair vowen into tentacles. "My Monarch." A whispering voice called out from the creatures throat, though their lips remained sealed as the tainted man fell to his knees. "Zobert has fallen. His death came slow and painfull." The figure on the throne now shifted. Seated upright as his fingers folded together. "Excellent, all the pieces are falling together." The servant dipped his chin. "Indeed, my Monarch. What are your further orders for us?" "None, Sigismund. You have done most well, so take your rest." The Monarch now rose from his seat. A tall and imposing man for a Dyskhar, clad in the blackest of nightmare's armour. Fit with shades of scarlet burning skulls and a frosted grass green cape. "The time to linger in the shadows is at end. Come Dusk we shall ascend the throne and lead this Household to greater glory, but for now my dearest of attendant... I have myself a blade to forge." Devoid of any weapons but a smithing hammer, the Monarch took a strode past Sigismund. He now stared out over the sickly woodlands. Putrid skin with eyes and tendrils were intervowen with the woods, while purple grass sprouted eyes and teeth in places. It had a quite peculiar beauty too it. "I shall take my rest then, my Monarch." Sigismund said, as he bowed deeply. To then depart the room. "As you do, my dear Sigismund. Now, I have a new throne to take." A wry grin formed on the mans lips, as he leapt from the shattered wall. Free falling towards a certain demise, to be saved by a loyal six eyed draconid beast with wings of a great eagle but the body of a wyrm. All tainted with the selfsame corruption. Now hoisted to it's reigns, Visimar Nachttrinker soared off to take what was owed.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Visimund was born two decades ago within the depths of the Shadowglen. An aged and wise man, he has lived to see it all. Days of glory, days of heroism and days of tragedy and many grey unsure nights ahead. He has partaken in two wars where the Dyskhari fought against the Sylvhari aggressors and was for long a loyal member to the House of Shadows. As well as one of few men to ever become a Bladedancer.
When the weaknesses of his Household were brought to light, one by one, it disgusted him. The death of the Matriarch, the rise of that despicable clown Zobert. Yet he had to commend him, where a man was completely useless as both a soldier and a scholar, he more than made up for it in trickery and deceit. Naturally, he would see his demise soon enough though. As all things hid in the shadows, the break of dawn brings their sin out to light. Sins which the forces of good may not ignore, which can only be found penance within death.
With all the eldritch corruption that Zobert had unleashed on his domain, not to mention tortured his subjects with to empower his own darkness, his soul was perverse beyond saving. It'd take a Raven Herald or Sarak themself to rid the taint to bring his soul into the afterlife. This much Visimund knew.
At the liars vicious demise the daggers he had placed ahead of the man before, known as the Souldrinkers, would do just what they were named to do. Capture his remaining essence within two chunks of metal. Ready to be forged into a capsule for his still sentient presence.
The blade, named Yûrei-no came to be forged by the blades of those selfsame daggers. Thus creating one of the most powerfull artefacts to be held within mortal hands. Like the old Sire of Demons could use his artefacts to command demonic hordes, if enthralled by magical stones, Visimund could command certain types of taint alone within any abyssal creature carrying the same blight. Though the catch was a need his edge tastes the final life essence of the Lords controlling the peculiar corruption, to make it work unhindered.
Yûrei-no
The blade forged from two dagger hilts and the essense of Zobert. Known as the Haunter from a language of a forgotten continent far, far to the east. This sentient blade is able to command the forces of the eldritch. Able to steer it's hordes to lay siege, attack or just serve it's master for every seed of corruption it holds. Which is currently limited to the corruption known as blissrot. The blade itself resembles a large, cruel looking katana which can indeed cut through steel, due to it's magical enhancements.Arakash
Loyal to it's master, Arakash is a great eagle hybrid from a lost land. It's body shaped like a wyrm from twirling and intertwining tentacles form some sickly perverted type of dragons with six eyes, a horridly disfigured mouth but with beautiful golden wings and the feet of great birds.
Current Status
On a quest to conquer the Dyskhari Imperium from within
Species
Ethnicity
Age
200
Children
Eyes
Tainted, steely purple
Hair
Shaggy milk white hair with green streaks
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Deep shade of gray
Height
1.8m
Weight
90kg
Belief/Deity
The Abyss
Aligned Organization
Ruled Locations
Your descriptions are very well written and interesting.