Occisor

About him

• Basic Info

  • Name: Occisor
  • Gender: Male
  • Played by: Red_Clay

• Beginings

  I awoke on a hard floor in a damp and dark room. The cracked stone walls seemed so familiar to me, the smell of the air so foreign. I sat up from my sleep tired, groggy, and cold. Slowly I reached for memories, any reasons I'd be confined to such a horrible place. I found nothing but the knowledge that this was a cell and that cells were meant for criminals.
  I stood and felt my knees crack and grind underneath my weight. As I rose, my eyes adjusted to the darkness and this seemingly endless prison cell gained shape. My private prison was so small that I barely had room to move about. I felt a dryness in the back of my throat and longed to quench my thirst. I spied a bucket near the heavy wooden door and rushed to it. The water inside tasted horrible but I didn't care. I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt the burn in my throat recede. I looked down into the muddy water and a horrible realization revealed itself to me. “Who is that,” I thought. A pain shot through my stomach and brought me to my knees as I wretched up a horrid liquid and fell unconscious into the water.
  A kick to the ribs brought me back from the peace I wished would last forever. I rolled onto my back and looked up at a lion dressed in a soldiers leather garb. “Stare, Bestia,” He muttered with an audible disgust. I couldn't yet understand the language but I hand the strong feeling he wanted me to stand. The wooden door behind him stoop open and beyond it I saw more lions dressed in similar garb.
  Light shown through the windows in the hallway where they stood with swords at their hips. My observation of the world beyond was quickly interrupted by another swift kick in the gut. “STARE!” This time he raised his voice into an ear splitting yell. I slowly pushed myself up only to find that I was taller than him. Larger too. I stared into his eyes and saw a flicker of fear spread through his face. He reached for his sword but I backed away. His fear turned into a cocky grin. From behind him soldiers pushed forward and grabbed my hands and feet. A strange sensation washed over me. Where I thought fear would surely grip me only a sadness pressed to the forefront of my mind. I was perplexed by these things. Why would I be saddened?
  They bound my hands and feet in rope and the one who kicked my ribs with glee pulled me by a rope out of the cell and into the outside world. I followed him for what seemed like forever through corridors lined with guards on either side. Not one looked at me, they simply stood there staring into nothingness. The emptiness in their eyes irked me more than being bound and dragged through these poorly lit stone hallways. Finally, we stopped before a large gate where the cheers and yells of what seemed like thousand came from outside. The gate rose and the once muffled voices now ripped into the room, bouncing off the walls and reverberating in my ears. I looked in wonder and at a crowd of lions and lionesses whose eyes all fixed on me. They all shouted and yelled at me with hatred and passion but one word stood clear among the multitude of voices. Occisor. I was pushed forward and was forced to wade through the crowd of the many indistinguishable faces. Even their children who looked upon me with disgust and hatred. What did I do to deserve such scorn? I still wonder this from time to time to this day.
  The soldiers led me up stone stairs to a stage where I was forced onto my knees next to a large man who wore a purple hooded robe. His eyes an icy blue and his mane a vibrant orange. His loud roar rendered the crowd silenced and eager to hear what would leave his mouth next. He began to yell and throw his hands about so passionately that even though I had no idea what he was saying, I almost lost myself in his words. He turned from the crowd to me with a jerk and spat on me. I understood only one word which came from his mouth. Banishment.
  After, I was led roughly through the city and quite literally thrown out of the gates by at least 5 soldiers. The roars from the crowd who followed died out as the gate closed behind me. That was 300 A.D and it was only 50 years late that I learned the city I was so rudely thrown out of was Rome and the name they called me was murderer. It took me about 45 years to learn their languages and 100 to understand their customs but I left there determined to find the truth of my past. In my travels I saw that I did not age along with my companions. As they became decrepit and frail, my body remained the same as I had woken up with it. To this day I am no closer to learning who I was. Now, speak into this quickly emptying mug to anyone who will lend me a listening ear, I could give a damn who I was. All that is important is who I am and that's a a self proclaimed adventurer and philosopher who only wants to search this world for excitement. Won't you join me?

• TL;DR

  Occisor awoke in Rome near the time of it's demise with no memories of his past. He was quickly banished from the city and forced to wander Europe, searching for the key to his past life. He quickly found that he could not age and that could match the strength of anyone he met with little practice. Around the 1700's he finally gave up on his quest for answers and picked up a new mission. A mission to seek and discover the
  extraordinary.