Name: Lord Drakon of Darkspire, the Ebon Blade of Chaos. Drakon is what he began calling himself after his corruption -- he does not disclose his real name.
Age: 17 physically, 568 in total living years
Gender: Male, in physical form -- in demonic form, "Warlock Frenzy" mode, undetermined and likely never to be known, even by himself.
Race: Born human, but his soul is corrupted and infused with that of an ancient demon, making him a half-demon himself.
Appearance:
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Lord Drakon stands at an intimidating 6'5, his imposing demeanor making him seem of even greater stature. He possesses purple eyes that turn blood red in his demon form. He has shoulder-length gray hair, which turns white with blood red streaks in his demon form. He has pale white skin covered in pitch black runic tattoos which, in his demon form, peel from his flesh and structure themselves into glowing red magic circles which contain his true power.
He hides these markings beneath reinforced soulsteel armor, as not to draw stares in public. Even so, he still draws the occasional gaze due to his dark and foreboding appearance. His face looks like a normal, attractive human face at first glance, but his gaze is lethally piercing, and he emanates a deeply unsettling aura into his surroundings, causing normal mortal people to involuntarily cower from his lasting presence. He never changes expression, though it is unknown whether he cannot show emotion, or simply chooses not to.
Personality: Lord Drakon is a calm, callous, and highly intelligent individual. He speaks as little as possible, except as is needed to efficiently communicate his thoughts. He is generally disliked by people who do not know him well, and often scares new acquaintances. Many might even describe him as malicious; this is due to his disdain for those he deems not up to his standards. However, although he refuses to make friends, he has many acquaintances whom he does not actively hate. He gets angry, but is not outwards about it -- his is a seething anger, one that boils just under the surface and serves to be more menacing than any explosive anger could hope to be.
Powers: Lord Drakon's powers, derived from his demonic side, allow him a multitude of abilities. He has advanced control over gore and viscera, using blood and bone fragments to shred foes in a brutal gorenado -- as well as for intimidation factor, as a spirit-crushing display of violence. He can summon and control demonic hellfire to burn his surroundings, as well as being able to conjure forth a shield made of the void itself to negate attacks into sheer nonexistence. He can infuse his weapon with the ability to absorb an opponent's life force with each strike, allowing their own strength to be used against them. Finally, he can infuse corpses and skeletons with trace amounts of demonic essence and command them to assist him in battle. In Warlock Frenzy mode, he gains the ability to slowly absorb his enemies' life essence with his attacks, similar to what his weapon is normally capable of, as well as activating a sort of oversoul that keeps a weak, passive version of the void shield around him at all times. In addition, his Ebon Blade transforms into the incomprehensibly sharp Claws of Fenris, which attach to his arms and enable him to shred even the most armored foes to mere scraps.
Equipment: Lord Drakon can wield what is only known as the
"Ebon Blade of Chaos": once an ordinary bastard sword, it is infused with the soul essence of many beings powerful and otherwise, most notably that of an extremely powerful archdemon. Though it is not necessarily any stronger for combat that it was as a normal sword -- other than by gaining an extreme amount of durability to keep it from breaking in battle -- it can channel any of Drakon's abilities through itself, and in doing so has come to contain a small portion of Drakon's corrupted soul. In this sense, it has become one with him, and will strongly reject and fight back against other users. If Lord Drakon should ever fall, the sword would be capable of possessing one of weaker will and causing Drakon to be reborn in a new body; however, this has never happened, as Drakon has yet to die.
Aside from his signature blade, Lord Drakon wears a suit of reinforced soulsteel armor at most all times except when relaxing. This armor is mostly dark, layered chainmail with metal plating set on the torso, abdomen, arms and legs. Many large ridges jut out along the sides for parrying blades, snagging an opponent's clothing, and bashing their face with protruding sections. He also wears a black cloak with an elevated collar to protect his neck -- and to help keep the blood of his foes out of his eyes, nose and ears. This cloak seems to always wave slightly, even despite a lack of wind.
Background: Lord Drakon lived a normal, peasant childhood in a tiny border town on the outskirts of his home kingdom, Aeon's Reach. The name of the town is not important; what happened there, however, is. As it happened, the town was centered on a border dispute between Aeon's Reach and the neighboring kingdom with which it was at war. In a strategic move, both kingdoms sent a small army each to occupy the town, which met in a brutal clash resulting in mass innocent casualties. In the end, it was decided to simply annihilate what remained of the town in order to make it undesirable, thus ending the border dispute once and for all.
As a result, Drakon's home town came under siege from its own soldiers, who despite their underwhelmingly small numbers left from the previous battle, swiftly and efficiently slew every remaining villager, many of whom were untrained and defenseless. Drakon's parents hid him in the root cellar just as the soldiers arrived at their own home. His father was brutally murdered within seconds, and his mother raped by the soldiers before meeting the same fate. Drakon stayed there in the cellar for hours, waiting for the soldiers to leave, as his parents' blood leaked through the floorboards and dripped upon his head.
As a terrified child, he prayed to whatever god might answer that he be given the strength to fight back against the evil that so ruined him. However, he met no such response, and was instead confronted by an Archdemon, who agreed to grant him the power he wished for, knowing full well that Drakon was unfit to wield such might. The Archdemon then sealed an ancient, lesser demon within Drakon's soul, corrupting and infusing his very being with demonic essence. The exchange and infusion were performed within a time-warped bubble there in Drakon's root cellar, and lasted seven years within said bubble, during which time Drakon underwent constant agonizing pain, barely surviving the process. Though seven years had passed within the bubble, only seven months had passed in the human world, and Drakon emerged from the bubble into an empty, partially collapsed root cellar, beneath a dusty, overgrown home, in a forgotten and ultimately abandoned border town.
Drakon lived solitary in the village for months to follow, trying to cope with his newfound, nigh-uncontrollable abilities that would often let loose at random and cause wanton destruction. He tried many different methods to control his power, including day-long meditation sessions, venting of his powers on abandoned buildings and villager skeletons, and trying to get them to conform more accurately to his commands, hoping that would translate to more contained use. Eventually, through sheer time and patience, he was able to master his abilities at least to the extent that they would not suddenly betray him without warning. Satisfied, he left the village -- but not before snatching a bastard sword from one of the corpses of a soldier that had fallen in the border conflict.
Unfortunately, Drakon was far from a perfect man, and even in all those years since the conflict he'd not left behind his grudge against Aeon's Reach. His time in the archdemon's bubble had left him an angry shell, with thoughts of nothing save vengeance -- and being hardly but a child, with no wisdom of how to channel his emotions, he at first set out for basic, petty revenge. For one long year he roamed the countryside as a feared monster, hunting down any sign of activity on the part of the Reach military and destroying them with reckless impunity. None stood a chance against his mindless slaughter, save those he overlooked in his bloodlust, and even then only vague, fear-laden descriptions of him existed among the usual pub rumors. He became something of a legend, the sort of story the younger, less experienced soldiers would dare each other with. "If he attacks us, I'll kill him myself, just like that", they'd say. "He's just one man, after all."
Eventually, however, after spending some time as an independent killing machine, Drakon began to mature. He learned to speak and act like an adult, and how to control his emotions better than he could as a mere child. With this maturity came the knowledge that there was more than one way to enact his revenge, and that he needn't stoop to mindless slaughter, when mindful slaughter could be so much more beneficial. Of course, one year wasn't enough to fully mature, and as far as strategy went, Drakon wasn't yet extremely proficient; in fact, despite the brokenness inflicted on him by his years of torment and emotional turmoil, he was still somewhat naive. He decided he would rather rule the kingdom himself than simply strike at its military -- after all, as ruler, he reasoned, he could prevent his fate from befalling anyone else.
So it came to be that, for lack of a better strategy, Drakon very literally strolled into the capital city and directly into the king's castle, where he proceeded to do what he did best. There was no need for any complicated planning, he knew. He was powerful, and that was all that was necessary. Taking the castle and slaying its king to steal his throne was the easy part, but establishing himself as the new ruler was far more difficult, as people weren't generally very receptive to being ruled by a murderous monster. It took him the better part of a decade, holed up in the castle with an army of both undead soldiers and those living ones smart enough to defect to his cause, before he was able to assert his power as undefeatable and amass a force large enough to truly take the capital city. From there, he worked his way out, sending troops to "inform" the other cities within the kingdom of their new reign, and to ensure there were to be no more attempts at retaliation.
Lord Drakon's demonic presence and the undead soldiers wandering the castle seemed to change its atmosphere to something much darker than it had been before his rule, and from his admittedly poor creative sense he pulled the name "Darkspire" for his new abode, of which he declared himself lord and ruler. He left the kingdom named as it was, for as much as Aeon's Reach had betrayed him, it was still the kingdom where he had been born and raised, and now it was his own to rule. However, it was in ruling said kingdom, and quashing any rebellions against him, that he came upon one last problem. Among the previous king's documents were records of various attacks and skirmishes, including the invasion and self-destruction of Drakon's home village. From these records he learned that the Reach military had been in a deal to siphon small amounts of demonic power from the Archdemon that had granted Drakon his own strength, giving their soldiers an extra edge in combat.
Furious, Drakon spent over a century honing his powers even further, while simultaneously gathering as much data on Tartarus, the underworld, as possible. Eventually, he was able to construct a spell to rip open a portal to Tartarus itself, and with his armies behind him, he waged war on Hell and the demons within. The war itself was waged for even longer than his research, and in the following two and a half centuries Drakon slew demon after demon, each one adding power to his trusty old bastard sword. Over time it morphed into a more and more demonic form, and by the time Drakon finally breached the innermost layers of hell, it was something entirely different than what it once was. It was only after he slew the Archdemon that had so drawn Lord Drakon's rage that it truly became the Ebon Blade of Chaos, becoming one with Drakon's very being in response to the overwhelming power it received.
His lust for vengeance finally quenched, Lord Drakon withdrew from Tartarus and closed the portal once and for all, sealing off the link between the overworld and the underworld. The demons, knowing his true power to have slain an Archdemon in single combat, did not dare attempt to continue the war. The damage Drakon dealt to hell in his campaign was great indeed, and so the demons accepted their defeat for the time being. Thenceforth, Drakon continued to rule over his kingdom, thinking himself a benevolent king who would prevent any other from befalling his own fate. In reality, matters weren't quite so simple -- in his immortal rule he himself ordered many an attack on a rebelling village, resulting in destruction and despair even greater than that which he was trying to prevent. More so, his attempts to expand and conquer other lands continued to spread war and bloodshed far and wide, and the scorned demons of Tartarus still yet planned to attack the overworld in retaliation against Drakon, which had the potential to one day result in apocalypse itself. Blissfully unaware of his own hypocrisy, Lord Drakon continued to sit upon his bloody throne, and slowly beckon forth the end of the world.
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