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"You want me to do what, exactly?" Amadeus Kain tilted his head, looking at Keraph Xalascent for a moment with curiosity. The two were located in the trade district of undercity at a local tavern. It was a crowded location not too far from Infection's former headquarters, and the location Keraph had called for them to meet. Keraph didn't even bother looking at the warlock before responding. "You are to track down the remains of Swerto Ænimus and recall him to duty by any means. With the return of the Legion and the Dark Lady's appointment to warchief we need all the Forsaken warriors we can muster. Infection will once again be the vanguard of the Forsaken, and I need warriors who are loyal to her above all else." "But he's been dead for years, whatever remains is most likely bones by now, and that is even assuming I can recall his soul from the nether. I am not a necromancer - my abilities are limited. Wouldn't our time be better suited raising new warriors, or turning those from the Alliance to our cause?" Amadeus protested, this was a waste of his time. "I need warriors I can trust to not turn their blades on the Forsaken. I can't trust freshly risen corpses with that, they have no loyalty to the Forsaken cause, they're no different than the knights of the ebon blade. Their loyalties are fickle things. You have your orders, warlock. Follow them or I will find someone who will." Keraph stood from the table and disappeared into the crowded sewers leaving Amadeus alone to compose himself. The warlock dusted himself off looking at the information Keraph had provided. Swerto's gravesight, his history, known associates, among other useful information. He let out a groan of frustration as he planted his face on the table. What a chore. He stood up disappearing after Keraph a moment later. If this was his job, he was going to do it right, and to do that he'd need the help of an apothecary and necromancer, and lucky for him he knew someone who was both.
Full Name: Lisette Nicknames: Date of Un-Birth: The first day of Winter season. Age: Four of Undeath and eighteen living... Twenty-two. Race: Forsaken, undead human Gender: Female Hair: Wilted auburn, kept short and pulled back into bows. Skin: Bloodless white, the spectral lines of her veins can still be seen beneath the skin, pumping shadow magic and whatever else still remains. Eyes: Hollow remnants of faded innocence that now burn with the magic that fuel all forsaken. Height: 5'3 Weight: 115 lbs Place of residence: A small apartment in Undercity Place of Birth:- Known Relatives:- Religion/Philosophy: Too feeble minded to hold onto a specific belief for any long period time. When wandering through memories, she will sometimes make reference to the light. Occupation: Psilus' assistant. Group/Guild affiliation:- Guild Rank:- Enemies: When she is confused, orcs are often her biggest fear. The more time she spends traveling with Psilus though, she learns to hate what used to seem safe. Likes: Butterflies (bats), Hukky Fin (Void Walker), Flowers, tea parties, beetles, pretty dresses and children's stories Favorite Foods: Biscuits, hard candy, ears, jam, rat kabobs, candied eye balls, and ladies wearing large, fine hats Favorite Drinks: honey and tea Favorite Colors: Apathetic towards colors. Weapons of Choice: Curses and shadow magic Dislikes: Loud, vulgar and otherwise angry individuals, music lessons and being told to stand up straight Hobbies: "Gardening", hosting tea parties and attending them Physical Features:Willowy and sullen, she has a thin frame and often unresponsive expression. Dark makeup is painted over her lips and eye brows, while a soft pink shades her eyelids and cheeks. Subtle signs of undeath cover her shadowed corpse. Below her eyes, hollow circles give her a sleepless countenance and a mournful smile. Her right ring finger is partially exposed bone and up her arm, patches of skin are missing. The left arm is complete and is often the one she favors, typically saving shadow weaving for the right. Special Abilities: Curses, demon attraction and a naturally affinity with shadow magic Positive Personality Traits: Innocent in mind and polite Negative Personality Traits:Cannibal, enjoys cursing people and animals, fickle Misc. Quirks: Will often confuse reality with the past, believes her void walker is the kitten she found in her mother's garden when she was a child, often "gardens" in the woods, has a childlike perspective of her surroundings Played by What Famous Person: Maggie Gyllenhaal Theme Songs: "Once Upon a December"- Anastasia, Disney History: Eyes lit by shadow magic watched their owner in the mirror, eying the stringy remnants of red hair that now clung to a pallid face. A bony hand lifted to sweep a strand from view, but stopped over passionless lips. They moved, but the ears belonging to them did not recognize the voice coming from within. “Is that how we are maintained, master?” “No, it is clearly another magic all together.” Amused by his newly acquired pupil, Psilus decided to draw the young forsaken miss from her own reflection and begin his lesson. “Shadow,” the silken word cut the musty air between them as he took his place behind her. With his hand he combed the back of her head and brushed the forgotten hair behind her ear. In a cold breath he whispered, “You will learn to wield it, as I have.” - Three years ago
[Possibly a series of short little stories from Mareeya and her past. Possibly more to be added here and there as I see fit.] "Get every last one of them out of here, now!" "Run! Hurry, they are breaking through the final walls." "They are everywhere! By the Light...we are doomed." "Daddy! No!" A young human girl ran through the burning village, screams of hundreds of people being cut off quickly as their life was extinguished, one by one. The dark haired girl bawled as she ran through the crowds that pushed the opposite direction she did. In one hand, she held on tightly to something that resembled a hand stitched hippogryph. "Please! Just leave! Daddy!" The girl finally made her way through the crowds that ran for their lives, stumbling forward a moment before catching herself. Bodies lie in pieces, any that were still in one piece were unrecognizable and amongst the fire, ash and blood stood on last living man, holding his hands up high into the air, sparks and flares of arcane energy spilling forth, his long black hair whipping in the wind. Beyond him, the hordes of greenskins from Light knows where push forward. The girl's eyes widen as she watches spears, javelins and arrows rip the man's body apart, erupting from his back in a spray of crimson. The gril scream, shrieked, cried her eyes out. Those that could help her have fled, the one she hoped to save was dead. "Daddy!" she screamed, as she clumsily stumbled her way across the trampled bodies to the one of her face, choking and gaging on the tears as she tried to pull the crude weapons from his body. "Daddy please..." Her cries were soon cut off as she felt her body lifted up by a calloused, grizzled, sickly green hand, easily wrapping around her midsection. Her eyes widened as she gasped for air, her eyes locked upon the scarred face and yellowed tusks of the demon that held her. Her grip loosened on the stuffed hippogryph, the creation falling into the blood caked mud. Swirling red eyes bared into her soul as everything --- Mareeya growled at herself as she shook her head, drifted off in the lap of her Felguard, Shaadhun. She threw the book off her chest and onto the floor of her room within the bunk she had in Undercity. Jumping off the lap of the demon, she shook her head once again, looking down at the floor. "I hate having those little visions. I shouldn't read so much," she said seemingly to herself. Glancing over her shoulder to Shaadhun, she nodded, "I know. But I still don't like it. I don't sleep, but I do zone out. It is hard to explain Shady." The Felguard stared silently at Mareeya, not moving, not breathing. "Well, yes, it is VERY hard to explain, all right? Don't question me. Now, don't look. I need to get dressed. Big day." The Felguard continued to do absolutely nothing as the flesh around the Forsaken's lips tightened into a smile, "Thank you, Shady." She walked around the room, over to a trunk where she kept her robes. With a soft sigh, she pushed off the 'house' gown she wore when within her bunk. Before, most would have guessed she had survived death rather intact. The flesh of her hands, face and neck seemed surprisingly pristine, intact and not as decayed as some others. Most have even regarded her with admiration for being not so 'lost' as some of the others. She took every little compliment should could. Secrets were meant to be hidden. Beneath the gown, a different story was told. Her ribs looked disarrayed, out of place; areas have been completely removed around her stomach and sides. Burn markings grace what was left of her chest and her spine looked off. The bone color of what was visible seemed different from other areas. Stitches and graftings had patched up visible areas along her side and around her hips. Whatever had happened in her life before to bring her to this point was something most would never want to imagine. And it wasn't like she remembered. Any of it. Some odd years ago, she can only assume it to be somewhere between seven and ten years, she awoke. At least that is what she said she did. Life had flooded her once again, the visions of the world soaked her mind. She wouldn't question it for years, just accepting that she had awoken and was always meant to be. She pulled a custom stitched deep red robe from her trunk, sliding it over her lithe, tiny frame. Looking in a nearby mirror, she adjusted everything before giving a curt little nod to herself, glancing over to Shaadhun. "Come on Shady. We need to turn out reports into the R.A.S."