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Name: Nwol (As a Human, known as Brad Greu)

Race: Wraith. (Formerly Human. Has green substance as blood and lacks organs.)

Age: Died at age 26. As a wraith 407

Alignment: Neutral

Personality: Nwol is a cold calculating In some cases, he has become a teacher to some only through his pupil respecting him and him treating him/her in kind. The only time he has a severe personality change is in the prescence of a wielder of light. He tends to be more wise with his words and more kind if needed, sucking up almost to stay on that ones good side, however, his temper and respect still come into play. He refuses to be used for anyone's gain unless a true need is there.

Family: All deceased

Powers: Nwol possesses many powers, including a mastery of all dark magics, telekenesis, telepathy, able to mind read and predict moves, teleportation, regeneration and able to reassemble as well as able to phase and become ghost like to avoid attacks. However, due to becoming a wraith, he has an extreme weakness to light magic.

Appearance: Nwol has a dark grey, nearly black decayed, flakey looking skin. His face is covered in a dark purple headwrap, only revealing his eyes and some flesh. His eyes are a all green, several shades forming that of a regular eyes, but the shades are close, so it almost looks like a mass of the same color, though the difference can be seen. They tend to emit very dim light and glow. When he blinks, his eyes close from the sides instead of verticle. He wears an elaborate type of cloak, very difficult to describe with words. Several robes on top of each other, a mass of a dull tealish color clothing, a dark purple cape hanging from his back, extremely foreign lookign and different. Underneath this he wears a dull tealish colored short sleve shirt and a pair of darker black slacks that cannot be seen due to the length of the robe and the long sleves. With these, he wears a pair of guantlets that match the robes colors and simple brown boots.

Bio: Brad was born into a normal family,his father a skilled knight, his mother, a maid and a younger sister near his age. Brad was trained by his father how to use a blade at a young age and continue to learn until he was about 17. His father expected Brad to one day be knight as he did, however, Brad had other ideas, he wanted to go out and see the world, become a sailor. His father disapproved of this and forbade him from leaving the village in fear he'd run away. A fight broke out between them. The next night Brad talked to his sister and told her he was leaving and did not know if he would be back. They said they're good byes and then he left, stealing a horse and fleeing the village with only a small supply bag of food and the sword he used for training.

As he left, he struggled to survive and soon discovered he had very few talents, however, fighting was the one on the top of his list. He cursed it, seeing as he didn't want to use his father's training to make a living. Over time, he eventually became a mercenary, a really well known one at that. He made a fairly good living off of this due to the reputation he gained from his skill with a blade. At the age of 25 he had become some what of a legend. The people claimed that he was among the best in the land, surpasing those of veteran soldiers and knights. Though he had such a reputation, he still yearned to sail. Several months later, he decided he would go to see his family, check up on them before he decided too leave and set sail for new horizons. On the way he was challenged by a swordsman, an elderly man named Sho. He wanted to prove that this boy was not as good as the peasents and nobles said he was.

Brad accepted this man's challenge, the duel was over in about five minutes. The old man proved to be far too good for Brad. In it, Brad was mortally wounded, he fell to the ground, bleeding, coughing, hs blade, broken, his dreams fading. His thoughts on his family, his sister impaticularly. He reached out to the old man, wanting a chance to redeam himself as his eyes struggled to stay open as his body grew cold. The last words he heard from the man were. "It seems I was mistaken afterall. Myyyyy appolges" Brad cursed to himself as tears streamed down his face and the world around him went black. He would not get his revenge.

He began to stir, in front of him lay something, but he didn't know what. Everythign around him was black almost heading to this thing. A voice called out to him beckoning him from somewhere. As it did, it called out to him. " us." It said. "A second chance....another life." It was makign soem kind of offer. Ahead Brad soon found out what lay ahead. A void, something that should not be. Darkness darker then the pitch blackness around him. Nothing lay ahead in the afterlife, no purgatory. no Hell, no heaven. Nonexistence. "Your revenge...." The voice echoed. "Will you have it, or are you afraid?" It echoed, manipulating. No words were exchanged, Brad was afraid, more so then ever before. It was clear he had taken the offer.

The world around him stopped, a greyish flame eruppted beneath him, searing his soul, forming something new from it. A body began to form, through a painful process. His mind slowly being wiped from him as it formed this black body. His eyes burned. Slowly becoming a monster. Soon it was done, he lay there curled intoa ball, half insane, not knowing who he was, muttering to himself as he lay there, his lips not moving. Sown shut by a greenish stich, his eyes blinking in an abnormal way. He was afraid, unsure, unknowing. His body pulsed with power, though uncontrolled, he was a mass of pain. In this state he laid not sure for how long, however, eventually, his powers calmed and his memory returned little by little, keeping him sane. Overtime, he regained a good portion of it, but knew not his name. In this, he looked around his surroundings. Nothing, emptiness. Nothing but a greyish flame, his only home in the void. In this he acquried a name. Nwol (Pronounced Null). He would call himself this. After taming what power he had, he managed to form his own clothing out of dark energies. With that, he left this realm he named the void, through teleportation. He discovered it had been a long time since he died all too shortly. 60 years had passed since his death.

Soon after that, he discovered how he looked through a nearby lake. Hidious. Decayed flesh, no hair, a stiched mouth and green demon eyes. He oculdn't stand it. What price had he paid for wanting revenge, for being afraid to die. With that, he formed turban of some sorts, concealing that ugly face, his shame. With that, he decided he would try and locate what remained of his village, only to find it destroyed through warfare, his father killed through warfare, his mother, deceased through illness, his sister of old age. The thought upset him deeply, yet, he was determined to live, despite how long it had been, the swordsman that slew him still lived it seemed, his legend alive, and stories. Revenge was now his purpose for living.

It would take him fifty long years to locate this man, even then he was alive, he wondered if this man was like him, no longer human. In the confrontation, the swordsman recognized his attitude, his actions, his motive. In this, he defeated the wraith in combat and told him to train, to focus. Nwol was in anger, even after all this, this power, this dark magic, he could not defeat him. The swordsman told Nwol to visit his grave and focus and told him of it's location. He did so, determined to defeat him yet. Over the years, he would focus, wondering who he was yet, his age revealed when he died, yet his name, worn away on the stone. He was Nwol yet, and would remain him.

After training and focusing, honing his skills and powers, he confronted the age old swordsman again and fought him again. He came closer this time, but still suffered a great defeat. The man was impressed with his determination yet, unsure what he was, it was clear Nwol would become extremely powerful one day. The swordsman recommended that the wraith become a watcher, observe, hone his skill, one day he may be needed when he was no longer around. Nwol chose to do this, but still vowed to defeat the swordsman he came to know as Sho.

Hakker wrote:
The mages...

They come for me...

They come through the forest...

The mages...

"In this world, is the destiny of man kind controlled by some transcendental entity or law?
Is it like the hand of God hovering above?
At least it is true, that man has no control, even over his own will."

Happily married to Kiki <3

Wed Sep 24, 2008 6:50 pm
Legendary Ghost
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Joined: Mon Aug 11, 2008 12:23 pm
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Location: Where angels fear to tread, and man is but a cautionary tale.
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Excellent work DH~ well done.

Wed Sep 24, 2008 9:53 pm
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