Ðèmonîc
03-29-06, 05:51 PM
Name: Damion Valzaen
Race: Undead (Zombie)
Age: 84 (26 years lived as a human)
Gender: "Male"
Hair Color: Dark gray
Eye Color: Dark blue
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 105 lbs.
Weapon: Damion wields two black, steel daggers, the blades of which are curved. They are both exactly 16 inches in length.
Armor: Damion wears all dark-colored clothes so that he can easily hide in the shadows, even when it is not night. He wears a black leather vest, and small black boots that allow for easy movement. He has black, cloth gloves that have been so worn that they only cover his wrists, palms, half of each of his fingers, but not the tips. He also has dark, ragged pants and a shirt of the same color under his leather vest.
Skills: Damion is stronger than a human. His muscles, some of which protrude from the openings in his skin, are no larger than a normal man's (actually they look smaller), but he is unexplainably stronger than any man he fights. The closest he has come to measuring his strength is that he lifted a 100 pound beam of wood with one arm and dove under it to escape from a battalion of guards. This was, he thought, probably the limit of his strength, for it was extremely difficult.
Some of his most prized skills, Damion can move quickly while remaining completely silent. He can also hide himself very easily. He mostly looks to the shadows for refuge, but he can improvise and hide behind many other things.
Description: Damion is not very tall, at only 5 ft. 11 inches, and he is very light, only weighing just over 100 pounds. He stands mostly hunched over, and wears entirely black or dark-colored garments. He needs these colors to help him hide at night. Damion always has his daggers either in his hands or tucked under a makeshift belt that he made to hold them. Damion's skin, or the little flesh that he still has, is a pale, gray color. His muscles and bones can be viewed easily, as much is not covered by his outer skin. He has no blood, and his teeth are browning. His eyes are dark blue, and his vision is impaired a little. Damion wears a dark blue scarf, or bandana over his nose and mouth, and it hangs down over his chin and half his neck.
Biography: The pale, gray flesh of his eyes lifted, revealing his midnight blue eyes. Damion stared upward at the dark sky between the tops of two stone buildings. He was lying in a dark alley between two old houses. He sat up slowly, then jumped to his feet. He was deep in thought, pondering the dream that he had just had.
In the dream, he was looking at his own body, his human body, which was lying on a stone table. Out of the dream, he remembered only bits and pieces of his human life. He remembered he once had a mother, and that she had been taken from him. He remembered that he ran away from his home town, and had stolen his way through many years of his life, and when he couldn't steal he would fight for money, or kill unsuspecting men who wandered the streets drunk. He did what he had to survive.
Other than the little scraps of memories that he had, his human life was utterly gone. He would soon forget these small memories anyway, as he had forgotten everything else.
Damion closed his eyes once more and went back to the dream. He saw two hands suspended over his dead, human body. The hands were rotten and flesh less, much like the fingers that now rested on the ends of his hands. He saw that the hands belonged to another creature that looked much like he did now. It was a "Zombie", or "Undead" as he was called by the screaming people who saw what Damion was. The Undead creature was mumbling a torrent of dark words that Damion could not hear. The creature held his hands steady, as if he was waiting or preparing for something to happen.
Damion watched with boredom as he had had this dream many times before. The creature then stopped mumbling and rested his hands on Damion's human torso. The dead, human body opened its eyes and howled in pain. After all, his skin was already beginning to rot. Damion remembered this horrible pain. One cannot imagine the pain that is felt when his skin has been rotting for months.
When he had stopped screaming, the Undead creature, which Damion realized must have been some sort of a priest, spoke in a language he did not understand. The creature was trying to tell him something, but he had no way of knowing what it was. When the creature finished his speech, he turned slowly and dragged himself away, disappearing into the night. Damion never saw this creature again.
Damion blinked, and was back in the alley. He remembered this event occurring in his life. He couldn't remember how he had died, for he must have died for this creature to be able to resurrect him, which he later realized is what the creature had done. He had no idea why the priest had done this, and he did not know what the purpose of this act was. Damion sometimes hated the priest, and other times simply tried to understand why.
He was in a constant struggle to remember his past, remember how he died. He thought that if he could remember how he died he might be able to understand why the priest had granted him a second life.
Damion passed his time by killing and feeding on his victims, a sick habit that he had developed to feed the constant hunger that he felt. Feeding on his victims disgusted him, but it made the hunger slightly decrease. More than once he thought that he could end his wretched existence by not feeding, by simply starving himself, but this curse was not so easily removed. He had gone periods of months without feeding but the hunger just increased with each passing day until finally he felt like he would die, but he would just lie there waiting to die for days, the ravenous hunger tearing at him, but he could not die, he realized since he was already dead.
After that, Damion started to kill and feed whenever he felt the need for himself to feed. At first he felt horrible for killing, but after a while, he would feel nothing when he killed a man, a woman, or even a child. He also had a habit of picking the strongest and most powerful people he can find as his victims because he felt they might prove a challenge. Of course, he was wrong.
Now, Damion travels wherever he wants, most of the time looking for trouble to challenge himself. He realized that the resurrection that he was granted was a gift. He tests his strength against multiple guards, animals, whatever looks like it might hurt him even a little. He doesn't wish to died any more. He wants to remember how he died because he wants to know why he was reborn, for he feels there must be a reason.
Damion cracked his neck to each side, and pulled out his daggers. He walked to the end of the alley and stopped. He held his daggers ready for battle, looking side to side he ran out of the alley and vanished into the night.
Race: Undead (Zombie)
Age: 84 (26 years lived as a human)
Gender: "Male"
Hair Color: Dark gray
Eye Color: Dark blue
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 105 lbs.
Weapon: Damion wields two black, steel daggers, the blades of which are curved. They are both exactly 16 inches in length.
Armor: Damion wears all dark-colored clothes so that he can easily hide in the shadows, even when it is not night. He wears a black leather vest, and small black boots that allow for easy movement. He has black, cloth gloves that have been so worn that they only cover his wrists, palms, half of each of his fingers, but not the tips. He also has dark, ragged pants and a shirt of the same color under his leather vest.
Skills: Damion is stronger than a human. His muscles, some of which protrude from the openings in his skin, are no larger than a normal man's (actually they look smaller), but he is unexplainably stronger than any man he fights. The closest he has come to measuring his strength is that he lifted a 100 pound beam of wood with one arm and dove under it to escape from a battalion of guards. This was, he thought, probably the limit of his strength, for it was extremely difficult.
Some of his most prized skills, Damion can move quickly while remaining completely silent. He can also hide himself very easily. He mostly looks to the shadows for refuge, but he can improvise and hide behind many other things.
Description: Damion is not very tall, at only 5 ft. 11 inches, and he is very light, only weighing just over 100 pounds. He stands mostly hunched over, and wears entirely black or dark-colored garments. He needs these colors to help him hide at night. Damion always has his daggers either in his hands or tucked under a makeshift belt that he made to hold them. Damion's skin, or the little flesh that he still has, is a pale, gray color. His muscles and bones can be viewed easily, as much is not covered by his outer skin. He has no blood, and his teeth are browning. His eyes are dark blue, and his vision is impaired a little. Damion wears a dark blue scarf, or bandana over his nose and mouth, and it hangs down over his chin and half his neck.
Biography: The pale, gray flesh of his eyes lifted, revealing his midnight blue eyes. Damion stared upward at the dark sky between the tops of two stone buildings. He was lying in a dark alley between two old houses. He sat up slowly, then jumped to his feet. He was deep in thought, pondering the dream that he had just had.
In the dream, he was looking at his own body, his human body, which was lying on a stone table. Out of the dream, he remembered only bits and pieces of his human life. He remembered he once had a mother, and that she had been taken from him. He remembered that he ran away from his home town, and had stolen his way through many years of his life, and when he couldn't steal he would fight for money, or kill unsuspecting men who wandered the streets drunk. He did what he had to survive.
Other than the little scraps of memories that he had, his human life was utterly gone. He would soon forget these small memories anyway, as he had forgotten everything else.
Damion closed his eyes once more and went back to the dream. He saw two hands suspended over his dead, human body. The hands were rotten and flesh less, much like the fingers that now rested on the ends of his hands. He saw that the hands belonged to another creature that looked much like he did now. It was a "Zombie", or "Undead" as he was called by the screaming people who saw what Damion was. The Undead creature was mumbling a torrent of dark words that Damion could not hear. The creature held his hands steady, as if he was waiting or preparing for something to happen.
Damion watched with boredom as he had had this dream many times before. The creature then stopped mumbling and rested his hands on Damion's human torso. The dead, human body opened its eyes and howled in pain. After all, his skin was already beginning to rot. Damion remembered this horrible pain. One cannot imagine the pain that is felt when his skin has been rotting for months.
When he had stopped screaming, the Undead creature, which Damion realized must have been some sort of a priest, spoke in a language he did not understand. The creature was trying to tell him something, but he had no way of knowing what it was. When the creature finished his speech, he turned slowly and dragged himself away, disappearing into the night. Damion never saw this creature again.
Damion blinked, and was back in the alley. He remembered this event occurring in his life. He couldn't remember how he had died, for he must have died for this creature to be able to resurrect him, which he later realized is what the creature had done. He had no idea why the priest had done this, and he did not know what the purpose of this act was. Damion sometimes hated the priest, and other times simply tried to understand why.
He was in a constant struggle to remember his past, remember how he died. He thought that if he could remember how he died he might be able to understand why the priest had granted him a second life.
Damion passed his time by killing and feeding on his victims, a sick habit that he had developed to feed the constant hunger that he felt. Feeding on his victims disgusted him, but it made the hunger slightly decrease. More than once he thought that he could end his wretched existence by not feeding, by simply starving himself, but this curse was not so easily removed. He had gone periods of months without feeding but the hunger just increased with each passing day until finally he felt like he would die, but he would just lie there waiting to die for days, the ravenous hunger tearing at him, but he could not die, he realized since he was already dead.
After that, Damion started to kill and feed whenever he felt the need for himself to feed. At first he felt horrible for killing, but after a while, he would feel nothing when he killed a man, a woman, or even a child. He also had a habit of picking the strongest and most powerful people he can find as his victims because he felt they might prove a challenge. Of course, he was wrong.
Now, Damion travels wherever he wants, most of the time looking for trouble to challenge himself. He realized that the resurrection that he was granted was a gift. He tests his strength against multiple guards, animals, whatever looks like it might hurt him even a little. He doesn't wish to died any more. He wants to remember how he died because he wants to know why he was reborn, for he feels there must be a reason.
Damion cracked his neck to each side, and pulled out his daggers. He walked to the end of the alley and stopped. He held his daggers ready for battle, looking side to side he ran out of the alley and vanished into the night.