Claire Sceleratus

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Claire Sceleratus

Post  Kakashi on Crack on Fri Jul 15, 2011 7:20 pm




The woman was draped in black robes as she looked across the expanse, the symbol of Bane tattooed into her back by her former high priest she had looked up to before making her way on this pilgrimage to spread the word of her Dark God. The skies were gray, clouds filling them to their brink as the tides were subtle for a time. It was only a matter of time before the rains would begin, and the tides would pick up… Their ship drifted slowly as the woman closed her eyes, uttering her protective incantations in hope that her Dark Patron would support her in this quest. She had appeased him thus far, and had grown through his ranks until she was only below the higher clergy.

She slowly turned, reveling in the power that The Black Lord brought to her as she hoped to establish a church within the confines of the island she approached. To spread his word to those who might join him, and fear to those that opposed his power.

The storm picked up though as unnatural winds blew the ship, the putrid smell of undeath lingering in the air as she growled, turning to the helmsman, lashing out orders to turn the ship as he tried desperately to do so… For t’was unwise to anger those who worshipped the greater deity.

To his misfortune though, the ship seemed to be unable to pull away as the waves began to pick up, dragging them closer and closer to the source of the putrid smell, undead clinging at the shoreline, seeming to sense them quickly approaching.

She quickly stored the book of her deity within her robes as she looked out, calling to The Black Hand for his judgment, asking for his help in destroying the undead menace as the ship began to rock, the splitting of wood being heard as it crashed into a few rocks, the helmsman being sent overboard as he surely would become skewered upon one of the many spiked ledges.

Unholy green fire dug into a few of the undead, cleansing the area of their presence as the ship approached the shoreline, ramming into a large sheer ledge as a loud, almost painful splitting sound ripped through the ship, tearing it in two as it prepared to fall into the dephs of the watery grave.


. . .



The Banite drug herself through the freezing hell that had befallen her as she tried to swim to the shore, coughing up sea-water as slowly she arrived at her destination, the island of Siranda… She had failed to bring the worshippers along with her as she looked out over the ocean, over to where the ship had sunk. She knew now, that her life had been forfeit the moment she had been pulled into the storm, she had failed her Dark Master, and expected just punishment in the matter, a painful death by his hand… She collapsed onto her knees, looking at the approaching undead as she let out a pathetic cry for a quick death, a prayer to the one she had worshipped her whole life. T’was pathetic in her eyes, but it was all she could do as she looked out over the approaching undead. In her gaze, she saw a cyricist in the distance, and her mind seemed to nearly snap as she let out a scream of rage… It was a mockery unto itself, to see an enemy deity’s supporter in her death, her mind becoming blurred as she made a prayer, a prayer to her deity to allow her to live, not in mercy, but to anger those who opposed his might, to drive the stake of his religion even into this accursed island itself.

Slowly, she lost consciousness, green flames enveloping the undead as they fell around her… She wakened, finding herself stripped of the black robes that had surrounded her being, replaced by a simpler set of robes… The Black Hand’s symbol seemingly etched into her hand, and the religious texts of his followers in her other. No matter how hard she tried, she could not seem to remember before the ship’s crashing, and she found the unholy aura of her deity was stripped from her being… She knew now her punishment, the loss of knowledge, the loss of power. She felt a voice in the back of her head, urging her to remain hidden, but to go forth, to bring the unholy hand upon the land and find followers from that which was her rival, to convert them, and possibly, to convert the worshippers of other deities to her cause.

She slowly looked out over the horizon, spotting a nearby town in the distance… She would travel there, her body and spirit a vassal, and a completely loyal vessel to The Dark Lord’s will. To redeem herself from her failings, or to die trying… She found she couldn’t remember her name as she looked out into the distance, thinking for a moment… “I shall call myself Clair.”


Name: Claire Sceleratus

Race: Human

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Height: About 5 ½ feet

Skin Tone: light-medium tan

Eye Color: Maroon-brown

Hair Color: Black

Place of Birth: Inside a Banite Temple

Distinction: The tattoo of the symbol for Bane, a black gauntlet, has been etched into her back and left palm. She carries herself with an air of authority, but cautiousness. It's generally hard to tell if she’s out to do evil or not, as she tends to follow laws and moral codes strictly in practice, though the same cannot be said in spirit. She tends to pray to Bane at midnight each night as a boon for the spells granted to her by her patron deity, and generally she seems like someone that one would get along with if not for her religious affiliations and practices based off of said affiliations.

Religion/Deity: Bane: God of hatred, tyranny, fear. Lawful Evil

General Alignment: While in spirit her views are generally evil, and said tendencies are even spottable on occasion, she tends to follow codes, laws, and morals put in place to keep from angering fellow residents, but only does so in practice, not in spirit. Her tendencies and teachings make her Lawful Evil. Constantly craving power, but going about it within the system and without needless death and slaughter, unlike her Cyricist counterparts. She’s just as likely to befriend a paladin as she is to turn them into a monster in the eyes of others.




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Kakashi on Crack

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