Xerexal the desolant

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• His death

  Name: Xerexal Irving.
  Age: 19 at most times but his age is unknown to most other than a few.
  Gender: Male
  Race: Human/Living ethreal like armour.
  Story title: The fallen of Ashen
  
  Small summary of said story
  :as though my journey may end prematurely and my heart smashed to bitters end. I am here my dear and I shall never forget. as from one lover to another, One solstice to a descecrate. Maybe I'll die a death of pain and sorrow but I want you to ease my passing as I leave this world by wiping me away with no trace of being there. Hopefully you will finally be happy as my blood flows forth from my wounds and the final words of my life slip out with sorrow and draught. "For death has finally laid his icy grasp upon my flesh pulling me deep into the pits of hell to burn for eternity. I shall always love you with my heart as the future draws to a close. Maybe I'll stitch my heart back up and face the world fulward and strong. But I shall fall to strife and conflict easily as for I am weak. A crutch isn't needed for this hobbled soul....see you when I come back for you with death letting you choose between two worlds as I shall be with you for eternity. Don't remember me as a man but as a mere dream in your mind and a feeling in your heart. For our souls will meet again to amend what we have lost." I love you dear......Death shall find me first.......Love is dead and love is a lie, but in my last day you'll see me cry. A love lost but never found, a love never cherished only loud. As dead and bleak I may be, You will still be my chere. Solstice is what I may be, but I miss my chaos, my disorder my love. I'm dead inside, cold and heartless as my heart has been ripped out and tossed to the side, But I'm deserving due to the heart I broke has caused me grief. It weighs heavy on my heart as I may tell my story, but it isn't important anymore. Cold hands of death pull me away, end my suffering as I am a heartless demon. Reaper take my soul and destroy it kill it, the one I lost died of my own faults. Never to be seen again together as the two spiral in separate paths. Divided among the ways, one to heaven to be enlightened, the other...the solstice down to hell to burn in an hellish flame for the rest of eternity. God rest her soul as I lay down to rest. Goodbye I may say but ties is just my Death.
  
  
  
  
  bio:Xerexal The first words that come to mind when I hear his name is, rot, death, the end. But not all of him is evil, he's rather gentle when your on his good side....many aren't on that side, pity though that many see the ancient mageling as evil, but he is rather nice. He was once a priest from high up in the mountains of hru'kar, high above the forest and seas that surround it....not much is known about his past, but if asked he will tell only in qualms about it. The once holy knight and mystic fell down from his pedistal and smashed upon the floor, shattering into 5 pieces. The body, the shell that retains nothing other than hatred and diabolic feelings. Xerexal is the body, the retainer of those feelings. as he once said "welcome to my nightmare, for you shallt not return unscaved by its corruption.".
  
  During his time alive in the war, Xerexal has encountttered many foes and armies of vast sizes that destroy anything in their way. Xerexal was a deft swordsman with a strike that could cleave through chain armour with a single swing of a sword due to his precise movements with his hands. Over the years since the first incursion of the forsaken dreadnoughts of the lowlands, the only one to oppose the mountain range with the only thought of being more superior to them. Years on years of fighting ensued, the bloodshed growing greater by the tear as more and more bodies piled up on the battlefield, not even able to make out who it was from the mass amount of men trampling over the hole ridden bodies without a thought of who had fallen in battle. Xerexal was one that would search in the back for ones that were barely alive and heal them with whatever he could. Some saw him as a coward since he stayed far behind the line of combat that tore through the lowlands like a wild fire that only incited more violence and war from aggravating outsiders and pulling them into the fight with no reason to why. Others saw him as a hero since he didn't matter on who he saved, but why he saved them.
  
  Years after the settlement was done over the war, the south surrendering to the mountain races from their dwindling population and their up most defeat of their king being slayed upon the very grounds that he had made peace with the north. Xerexal went high into the mountains to ponder within the caves upon why this all happened and how it could've been adverted. Years upon years of his silent elusion from society carried on without peace of what could've stopped it. He only drove himself to a conclusion of that man was the cause of everything and that peace should be served by that of a conversion. Xerexal became a holy priest within the village that he resided in, learning the ways of his own gods and faiths, believing in them as an outlet away from his very life that he grieved upon living, everyday seeming to be darker and darker. On one of the days that he was out by the river beside the chapel of the false gods that stands in ruins miles away from the town, Xerexal was praying to another god about conversion and why he was even there. He was being listened to by another priest that caught him from this act of treason and made the anarch of the chapel cast him aside, banishing him from the town like a plague that rose through the fields the previous year, blaming I all on him as he was one that challenged their gods with Hersey in his own ways.
  
  Ten years after his death from an unknown combatant and the tears of the fallen had finally fell from the sky, Xerexal came back from the grave as a changed man... And a changed person. He was no longer a man but a huge set of runes armour that leaked an odd black oil along the ridges of its very ends of the sheets of black iron. He stood atop of a grave stone and did as followed.
  
  Standing on top of a grave stone was a rather tall figure. His weight cracking the stone beneath him, prices of the polished granite falling into the damp, dead grass underneath the darkened canopy. His own personal grave site? No.. Armour doesn't have a need for a grave site. Inside of the unmoving steel carapace of many etchings ignited, an elustrious green flame shot forth from the helms openings. The screams of the damned echoed in the forest that surrounded his own ambience, deadened and rotted. The thick essence of magic flowed and ebbed in the air, as if the armour was coming alive. Then, the air was filled with these raspy yet ancient words."Rechoren khure dhure.". The winds howeled and shot by, blowing the dead grass causing a crackling sound as the blades broke from the ground. Death... All and only death.
  
  The suit dropped from the grave stone with a thud, his contact with the ground caused all the life around him to wither and die. A nearby crow began to grow a black like growth over its wings and feet, causing it to screech in pain. The body of the bird disintegrated before it even had time to fall to the ground, just a pile of crushed bones and rotten entrails. Xerexal looked at the pile with a deviant glee in his eyes of what he just did, or done by accident. Enjoying its quick and painful death to its fullest as he enjoys others death. He never truly understood the purpose of life and why things feel pain. His own body couldn't feel pain or feel anything at all. All he could feel is the joy of someone's treacherous death, and the joy of tearing another's entrails out with his runes gauntlets.
  
  A green glow came off of the now awoken armour that was seeking his own purpose in this desolant world, awaiting what was to come.
  
  He didn't know of what language he spoke as it was new to himself, only to think of what he spoke of and it coming out of his face plate in a foreign language that he didn't know of till then. His mind never felt so full of what he needed to do, so bent on revenge, so needing of the taste of his adversaries blood upon the iron of his hands. He only yearned to grip the neck of his one rival and wring his throat without a resent in the world of what would be going on. The deadened thoughts pushed him into a deep exile of the plague lands, forgetting of why he died and who I was, only to be in search of one with a scarletblade and an emblem of a Phoenix on the right lapel of a jacket that was as white as snow. During his exile, Xerexal learned more about himself and what he could now do. Running through villages with only his hands, smashing through their skulls without two thoughts of why he did such things.. Bounties upon bounties were set on his head after the winter solstice. Many adversaries with the Phoenix on their jackets fought Xerexal like a waif they were, only to be defeated with their bodies diccerated and his hopes of revenge only deepening. They had to pay for what they did o him, they had to make up for what they made him.
  
  Now on his journey that only burdened him with grief was a strange vorpal of intertwined stories and planes that overlapped eachother to created chaos by an unknown source. He was now a pawn to the players of a game, one of a sad tale that would only be whispered in qualms of what he was before the fall of the ashen and the fall of ashen. A blackened heart to only be toyed with one last time before he changed one last time.. A change that would effect the lives of many... A change that would destroy him.

• Vital Stats

  • Name: Xerexal the desolant
  • Gender: Unknown
  • Played by: Nuxewater
  • Race: living armor
  • Class: multi defender
  • Alignment: chaotic neutral
  • Age: Unknown
  • Size: 6'4
  • Body Type: unkown
  • Weight: 250
  • Eyes: green emerald
  • Handedness: ambidextrous
  • Origin: Unkown
  • Relatives: grey the necromancer
  • Prefered method of killing: Removal of the iris
  • Mate: ???
  • Prefered wepon: His own hands

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• Basic Info

  • Name: Xerexal the desolant
  • Gender: Unknown
  • Played by: Nuxewater

• Journal

• Playstyles Chart

  Always	Sometimes	Maybe	Never
  Always Roleplay

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• Character Sheet

  Strength		Speed		Intelligence
  Reflexes		Magic-arcane		Magic-mystic
  Magic-illusion