[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]Legacy Form:
-Form for the descendants or children of Elemental spirits
Name: Amkral Night-Walker, also known today as the Shadow.
Age: Amkral is many thousands of years old. He was born in the third century of the making of the realms and was one of those present on the making of the Orb. Due to his parentage being Elf and Elemental as well as his experiments with his own mortality, the aging process is slowed by a noticeable amount.
Gender: Amkral is a male.
Eye Color: His eyes were a kind of pale, gray-green, especially in his youth. It depends partially on the lighting, but also whether or not he’s angry. If he slips from simple hate to anger, his eyes turn dark, almost black, green. When using his powers however, his eyes turn a fiery orange, mimicking the flames that he was born to control.
Skin Color: His skin was pale to begin with, partially because he was an Elf and also because in Sylvia, the trees crowd so closely together that one can hardly see the sunlight. Because of this, he also has extremely keen eyesight.
Hair: His hair is sleet gray, with white highlights. The only sign of age on him is his dark gray hair, but even that is healthy and abundant. He wears it parted on the side and falling casually to his shoulders. When going into battle, he dyes it jet black.
Height: For an Elf, Amkral is very tall. Just over seven feet at 7’4”, he towers over most individuals. Part of his height comes from his ‘little experiments’ as he calls them. Before he was corrupted, he was about 6’9”.
Physical Description: Tall and very strong with lean muscles. He usually dresses in black robes that seem to merge with the night and helps him remain hidden and out of sight when he leaves his fortress. He wears black, leather boots that come up to his knees and black leggings. For adornment, he cares very little for; asilver ring every once in a while, a fang earing, but nothing besides. His choice in clothing is only half as dark as the twisted soul that resides inside however.
Personality: Dark and forbidding, Amrkal has always had a thirst for power and dominance. He
Mortal Parent: Jarred Silver-Arrow
Legacy of(Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Spirit): He is a Legacy of Fire
Realm of Origin: Amkral actually was not originally from the Caligo as might be expected. He was born and raised in the lush realm of Sylvia to good people. It was only when he needed to find a place to call his own did he take over Caligo and establish himself as ruler. There peoples live in relative peace without kingdoms, just people trying to stay alive, and his announcement as King of Caligo launched tensions that had not been there previously.
Animal Companion(Optional): Shadow doesn’t have a companion, he likes being alone far too much to have another by his side. There is nobody alive or dead that could be called a friend to him. Anyone who grows too close to him, he has killed. This is because once someone begins to know him, they can spot some degree of predictability. Predictability could be his downfall. He operates with fear and secrecy, spinning a fine web of lies and confusion that is almost impossible to tear apart once caught within it.
Talents: Amkral is extremely persuasive and a master of weaponry and battle strategy. He can use just about any type of weapon, as well as his powers. No fire Legacy has ever delved so deep into their potential as he, and as a result, the prowess he demonstrates with them is near unstoppable.
Weapon*: He is a master of all weapons, including iron. After an intense and painful process of about a year and a half, he found a way to withstand simply touching the metal. Despite this, he just as vulnerable to its effects as any other Elf.
Flaws**: Amkral’s most dangerous flaws are pride and an overwhelming fear of death and defeat.
Powers(Must relate to Elemental parent): He can summon elemental creatures, particularly salamanders and dragons to him. Salamanders are of both fire and the earth as are dragons. They are famed for being guardian spirits, but they must obey their conjurer when summoned. These creatures pray upon the living when in the mortal and cannot be banished again until they are fed. If not, then they linger in the mortal world until they find a source to quench their hunger. Unlike other Legacies, he has found a way of banishing them on his own when his energy runs low to keep them from turning on himself. He can manipulate fire for hours at a time without visibly tiring. Nonetheless, he can only use this power for three hours and then must rest for the rest of the day if he wants to be able to see in the morrow. Due to the nature of this power, he wears a dragon amulet around her neck at all times, an object which can harness and store the energy of the wearer, to keep himself from overextending his powers and dying from using up all his energy. He can also withstand temperatures of two hundred degrees, but no more. He can raise the temperature at will and can sense when fire is nearby and if a Legacy is the source of the fire as well. Also, he can feel the activity of magma under the earth and can sometimes cause catastrophic eruptions. This power can only be used as a last resort because the strain of it is nearly enough to kill.
Backstory***: Elven by race, Fire Legacy by birth, and wizard by practice, the Shadow was and is, perhaps with the one exception, the most powerful being in all the realms. He was raised in the realm of Sylvia among other Elves. When his sister was killed by a human assassin, he was chosen to represent the Legacy of fire in a council held to end the violence. After this, what happened to him is shrouded in mystery. He left his native homelands and journeyed to Scopulous, a land dominated by rock and fire. The Orb which he had aided in the making of lay deep within the earth and that was his target. After tricking the dwarves, he stole the Orb and retreated to Caligo and to Endar. Many years passed and Endar eventually fell into ruin. This marked the beginning of the end for that realm and the chaos that was to later follow. The Shadow erected for himself a mighty fortress, created from the labor of thousands of slaves, most of who died in the making. He continued his studies of his potential as a Legacy, dark magic, and the Orb. As Caligo became steadily more stable under his iron-fisted control, he finally learned its terrible secret. The realization both shocked and disappointed him, but almost immediately afterwards, those feelings were followed by wild excitement at the wondrous tool of destruction that had come into his hands. The legend was a lie, but he was the only one to know of that fact and the Orb could be a wonderful bargaining chip in his quest to take over the realms. If, by some quirk of fate, the realms do not submit to the blackmail, he has gathered enough numbers to win a full-blown war. Many years of his life had been spent visiting with monsters and the dark creatures of the night and many of those creatures were not hesitant to submit to his will and pledge their fealty to him. Now, he broods in his fortress, plotting war and laughing silently at the chaos he is about to let loose.
His full backstory is going to be posted shortly. Hold your horses. This is a quick summary and I’ll post the link in when I’m done.
Roleplay Example***:
The Shadow King, the Shadow, The Bringer of the Final Sleep, Death’s Master, the Lord of the Dead, the Dark Lord, the Fallen One…He has many names, and though few beings know all of his names…all beings know at least a few…and it is best to say them none too loudly…but he has one name…that no one knows…
Amkral Nightwalker…was like an elf once…once…but no more. His tampering with the darker side of the earth’s magic twisted him…changed him… into part of what he is now…the rest of his transformation came from within his black soul.
Rumors say he was once a decent Legacy…that once, long ago, he was a fierce warrior and protector of the Five Realms… a Champion of Justice and Bringer of Peace…but that was long, long, ago, long before he “fell”. The only records of his previous life have been burned to ash and those ashes scattered across all parts of the seas of Paludem. Any who remembered the Shadow King’s original purpose are long dead, and not of natural causes, but you won’t find records of them either. The ashes of the records were scattered to the winds above Scopulous and the ashes of their bodies lost in the mountains of Lapidem. The Shadow King’s hometown in Sylvia has long since been ground to dust by Golems and his personal servants, the Night Walkers, or Walkers as most refer to them as in their nightmarish tales.
The Shadow King, Lord of all he sees and more…Death fears him, and all the monsters of our nightmares seem no more significant than gnats are to a dragon when compared to the Dark Lord.
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“Ssssire, we have brought him before you, ssssire…jussst like you asssked usss to do…I hope my lord isss pleasssed with usss.” The goblin trembled as he lay prostrate before a black throne.
The Shadow King rose and looked at the human that had been brought before him, bound, gagged, and blind folded…the human was from one of the outlying villages in Caligo…an escapee…of sorts…
“HUMAN. Do you know who I am?” The Shadow King asked, his voice smooth as silk and as deadly as the plague.
The prisoner trembled like and aspen leaf caught in a mid-summers’ gale, but did not respond.
“Being brave, are we? You are not the first to try that. Many others been brought before me and many others died for their insolent silence…I believe your brother was one of them. Hmmm…now, what was that worm’s name?” The Shadow King pretended to think hard to himself as the prisoner glared in fury at the stone floor, not willing to meet his captor’s eyes. “Oh, that’s right!” He snapped his fingers and laughed as though he’d remember something long forgotten. “Your brother’s name was…Jacob…Jacob Farkin…” The Shadow King watched with amusement as the prisoner before him strained against his restraints and howled in grief fueled rage. “Your brother was stronger than most. Most people succumb to the Pit in a few minutes. He lasted five…perhaps we should see how long you last?” The Shadow King laughed maniacally. The human screamed as he was dragged off by his guards…the screaming continued until one of the guards became annoyed with the “human’s ‘noise’ “ that he clubbed the human over the head with the handle of his axe.
John Farkin was 24, had a wife and three young children. He had gone out hunting a few days ago and never returned home. The reason for his not returning? He happened to stumble across a convey of the Shadow’s soldiers moving artillery, weapons, and gear, along with several platoons of mounted units and infantry…all of it moving towards the other realms…all of it a preparation for all-out war…needless to say, he could not be allowed to escape…
John Farkin was unceremoniously dumped unconscious into “The Pit” and when he awoke his head pounded as though a thousand elephants were stampeding through it and trumpeting all the while. He shook his head slowly trying to clear it, but all it got him was more pain. He gave up trying and looked around at what he thought was his “new prison cell”.
“WELCOME TO THE PIT, HUMAN. “ The Shadow King’s omnipresent voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere all at once. “ENJOY YOUR STAY…BECAUSE YOU ONLY GET ONE!”
John looked up trying to find the source of the voice. All he saw was that the walls of the pit he was in were ridiculously high, several hundred feet high in fact. He mopped his sweating brow and froze. His feet felt strange…almost as though they were…on fire…He looked down, and to his horror, the stone floor upon which he stood was beginning to turn red hot and had started to bubble in some places…John frantically began searching the walls for any sign of a way out. For several terrifying moments he thought that there was no way out of the Pit until he discovered some handholds that seemed to have been dug all the way up the side of the Pit. He immediately began to climb frantically as the ground below began to turn molten and started to rise slowly towards him. The thought that such an escape might be too easy never once crossed his mind…the thought that something was not quite right hadn’t yet set off an alarm in his head…
A quarter of the way up the side of the pit, John noticed something odd, his hands felt hot. He looked down and saw the lava had risen at least ten feet up from the floor of the pit, but he was at least fifty or so feet up, so it couldn’t be the lava. He felt his feet burning as well. He began to sweat profusely and climbed even faster. Something was wrong…very, very wrong. The hand holds he was using had begun to melt into molten rock…with his hands and feet still in them…
He screamed and was about to pull his hands out of the melting rock but realized that if he did that he’d fall off the side of the Pit and into the lava below. He tried to climb faster towards the top of the Pit, but it seemed that the faster he climbed the faster the rock melted. His shoes had burnt off and his gloves were on fire. He was screaming like a wounded rabbit trapped between two red hot slabs of stone as he watched the flesh from his fingers and toes char and fall away into the lava below.
The Shadow King stood at the edge of the pit with a slightly bored expression on his face watching the entire scene. John Farkin shrieked again and finally let go of the burning rock and fell, still screaming, into the lava below and all traces of his body were gone in seconds upon hitting the molten rock. The Shadow King yawned and snapped his fingers. The lava began to gurgle and once again sink below the floor of the Pit, and the glowing hand hold solidified back into cold, hard, stone. That done, he turned away from the pit and looked at one of the Goblin guards that had escorted the prisoner to the Pit, “Yes? What do you want?” The Shadow King said impatiently.
‘Sssir? Isss it true that hisss brother only lasssted five minutesss in the Pit, Sssir?”
The Shadow King laughed and the entire cavern trembled with the power of his voice.
“Silly Goblin, I LIED to the stupid human…L…I…E…D. LIED. His brother lasted LONGER than this wretch did…This idiot was boring…he didn’t do very much. Most people lose their minds, they scream, they pray, they cry, they run in circles like stupid little rats in a cage…Him? He did none of those…so I simply sped things up…he was no fun, you see.One of the perks of being a Fire Legacy is that you don't have to go to the fire...you can MAKE it come to YOU.” He grinned malevolently and snapped his fingers watching some flames dance across his finger tips then, with but a thought, he banished the fire. The Shadow King looked directly at the hapless Goblin guard.
“Now, if you are through asking ridiculous question, go fetch me another white worm from the dungeons…maybe the next one will be more entertaining?” With those words, the Shadow King gave an absentminded wave shooing the Goblin off to collect another poor soul from the dank dungeons for his own personal entertainment.
This is the Shadow King. And the Pit is his form of personal entertainment. He is the monster that haunts the creatures of our nightmares. He is the creature that death has yet to claim. He is the Fallen One…he was once one of us…now, in his mind, there is only him and him alone. He is the Shadow King, and he is ready to make his war on the Five Realms.
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Subject: The Shadow King 
Sun Aug 12, 2012 6:41 pm
