"Niet, even the dead will come calling"
Basic Information
Full Name: Viktor
Nicknames: Cunt
Age: 63
Gender: Male
Race: Human - Ailor Vladno
Affliction: Undeath - Arkenite - KUL
Sexuality: N/A
Preferred Weapon: Blunt Weaponry and Slur-bow
Skill Information:
Total Points: 60
Combat Proficiency Skills:
- +15 Blunt Combat Skill [15 From Points]
- +20 Throwing Combat Skill [20 From Points]
- +20 Heavy Bow Combat Skill [20 From Points]
- + 15 Metallurgy Sciences [5 From Points | 10 From Racial]
Body Shape
Body Stat: 60
Body Type: Strong-man
Body Fat: Low Body Fat
Languages:
Common - Learned
Visual Information:
Eye Colour: Phantasmal Mauve
Hair Colour: Black Dye
Hair Style: Just below shoulder-blades
Skin Colour: Sickly
Clothing: Armored or robed.
Height: 6'2
Clothing: Armored or robed.
Height: 6'2
Personality and Abilities:
Character Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, in a lean towards Chaotic Evil
Character Personality Type: Mastermind
Character Religion: None
Character Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, in a lean towards Chaotic Evil
Character Personality Type: Mastermind
Character Religion: None
Story
Within the deep forests
Borne of two sickly parents that indulged on the weak and pitiful, a wretched child was raised along a barren pasture that followed into a broken down town, withered by the reaping of it's own people. A sacking to prevent further terror to spread, the disease. Far away from the noblemen and women of man, elf or creature. Viktor was to be his name, based off some animal kindred to the land he was raised on. No education was given other than the primal instinct to feed and dominate the other children, at a young age rather - Viktor was a bully within the community, prancing about with a few others whom deemed him as King, mind stricken.
It did not take long for Viktor to develop his queer responsibilities; not only to just dominate but to reign supreme over any resource. The poor folk below him, banal humans who've just realized it was a mistake. The carriage they rode upon was torn to shreds by bats and crazed things, feral atrocities tore the children limb from limb whilst Viktor stood among the pack, and undid the heads from the Parents. This was his first real hunt, albeit small but to spark a long path for the growing evil.
As time grew on, so did his differentiation to ones who reared him. Killing them as well, within the coffins they concluded their day in. Spiked through the heart, and boiled within holy water taken from a priest who was then laid rest upon a spike in the ground. With the farmland and it's people decimated, he took what he could and set off toward the docks. Viktor's profession as he grew up was the hard metal he found with scavenging, taking to the anvil that rested in a nook between two homes burnt down.
Viktor, however like many others was killed by disease and poor body condition. Resting within a pile of rubble that littered the now waste of a village, killed in a bout of hate and aggression. For a first, second and third day he was there in a heap of flies and cadavers that had too, fallen from the sickly plague. Though then he rose, unlike the others- perhaps willpower strong enough. Through death he would continue. Upon his path, crossing was a child and mother. Both held affinity to magi, staves in their hands and spellbooks strapped to waists. Killed, like any other- blood feasted as if hungered for several years. Viktor showed no remorse.
With plans set in motion, a boat was construed of plywood, flesh and bone. Not sturdy enough to be considered leisure, but enough to take the trio of blood sucking fiends off towards Regalia. The goal in mind was the same in the end, tame it's land and dominate it's people. But first, was the problem of the other covens that lay their hand in the nooks and crannies of Regalian Sewers.
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