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Accepted.Knight CS
Appearance:
Name: Jeromius Midael
Age: 74
Knight Order: Cult of the Skull Thrashers
Personality: Jeromius had a personality once, when he was still but a young man. Now, as a Knight Master of the Cult, whatever humanity, whatever personality that was left within the man before he was captured was now forever lost. Twisted by the harsh teachings and punishments of the Cult, what's left is a hollow husk, completely alien to socialization, and any notion of honor, chivalry, and relationship. As a facade, he pretends to laugh at the dry jokes of others, and can try his best to assume a caring benevolence to his temporary allies, but in the end, all he cares about is himself. But he has been known to change, however. But once something catches his interest, some unknown part of his former self seems to return, with a pleasant demeanor, and a rather curious attitude.
Background:
Before his "induction" to the Cult of the Skull Thrashers, Jeromius Midael was a nice young lad. Born and raised in a city whose name is now lost to the virulent plagues that now infest the world of mankind, he found a reliable job among the ranks of the few Knightly Orders remaining in all of the realm. He rose slowly but surely up the ranks, finally establishing a firm foothold as a reputable swordsman within its hierarchy.
His time to prove himself came far sooner than he had anticipated, however, when a Skull Thrashers force, 30 strong, accompanied with some hundreds of Curselings, stormed the stronghold he was stationed in. His comrades fought hard, and fought well, but against such overwhelming numbers, it was simply too much. And so, Jeromius' comrades, fell in horrible, painful deaths, leaving him alone to face the remainder of the onslaught.
This is usually the end of the story for most unnamed heroes of mankind in this era. But for Jeromius, his new "life" had just begun. For the Great Demon, Erigon The Unfaithful, directly intervened, preventing Jeromius' death, instead having him captured and "raised" as a First Ascendant. Perhaps the Demon saw something within Midael, most likely owing to his skill, being able to fell not one, but two Accursed Knights virtually by himself. Perhaps this was just another whimsical game for the Demon, indulging in a temporary satisfaction of turning another man into a slave for His Cult. Whatever the reason, Jeromius was a man no more.
Just as before, he now rose the ranks of the Cult, serving his Undead masters. It was clear that Erigon was willing to invest a little more into this insignificant servant of his, as Jeromius was given a boost to his endurance, being able to stay in fighting shape, even through the constant punishments he receives from his uncaring Masters, and the onslaught of time. His work swift, having survived countless battles, from being humble cannon fodder, to serving among Accursed Knights, and now, he has claimed the title of Knight Master, being one of the few faceless leaders of a faceless army.
As time went on, Jeromius became more and more aware of his soon-to-end life, he abandoned any ambition to rule over the Cult, instead embarking on a personal mission; to do good for once. He now seeks an end to the suffering of mankind, his former fellow men and women, leaving the other Knight Masters to play their fruitless game of dictatorship over a country of dead men. He took the liberty of acquiring his age old Demonic servant and friend, Firarch, on his journey.
Equipment:
- Metallic armour, made in the harrowing image of an angel of death, especially the meticulously-crafted skeleton helm that sheathes Jeromius' true human face, still surprisingly normal, with an intricate layer of cloths, dyes, and paints. His humanity was one of many reasons he was ridiculed by his Cultist "comrades", and strikes fear into the hearts of his foes.
- Two-handed bastard sword, with a golden hand-guard and hilt threaded with precious threads, and a custom-made jagged blade made ideal for thrusting and slicing through armored opponents as well as unarmored cannon fodder.
- Armored gauntlets, reinforced with a layer of diamonds beneath the superficial metal plating at the knuckle joints, allowing for swift, unexpected close quarters punches to daze and disorient any unsuspecting foe, able to crack the usually flimsy helm armor of Jeromius' adversaries. Metallic plating also allows him to grab his sword by the blade for unexpected maneuvers.
- A horse, for horsing purposes. Comes when called. Runs from danger when ordered to. Can die rather easily.
Magic:
- Howl of The Undead: Aided by his Demon, Firarch, Jeromius enters a state of rage and physically-augmented fit of violence, marked by a blood-curdling mix between a howl and a screech, emitting out of Jeromius' aging vocal cords.
- Touch of Death: Firarch's nature channels through Midael, allowing him to drain the life energy out of a being. Perhaps not completely, and does not replenish Jeromius' power, but does weaken or kill the being.
Demon:
Firarch is a peculiar Demon. An agent of death and decay, it lives on the deaths of others, and because of it, Firarch's kind is seldom used, its entire "species" perhaps having only served the Cult of the Skull Thrashers, and a few other nameless, foolish practitioners. Its appearance and size varies, but usually takes the visage of a head-sized incomplete upper half of a skeleton wrapped in a thin, aged veil of black cloth, and usually seen clutching onto a beautiful red rose, its featureless eye sockets gazing upon the flower with an unmatched curiosity. It possesses no physical capabilities, but its magical powers act as a symbiote with the curse of Erigon The Unfaithful, for what is dead can not die again, which allows the members of His Cult to use Firarch's kind without fear of being devoured whole by its thirst for life.
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