Note: (Mature RP)

(Warning: the content of this character is considered sensitive subject matter, do not continue if you are heavily religious or easily offended)

"The Darkwalker"

Most people who come across this individual know him by the name of "The Darkwalker", apparently given to him for his deathwish behavior of consorting with and frequenting the darkest creatures/reaches of the globe. Finding hard data on this person is no easy task, apparently before he arrived in the Rogue isles, he was just recognized as a lost cause who was suffering among the pitiless back alleys and abandoned warehouses like the rest of the "infected". Word on the streets of Sharkhead is that he is a dead man, perished years ago and left for the fish. The fact that he is up and about apparently 'cured' of his infection only bears credence to his affiliations with the darker side of the Isles denizens.

If you ask around in the right places, the shadier sides of the Isles and the bars of Pocket D, you might find someone who knows a thing or two...

Other rumors suggest that he is a member of some Devil cabal, working out of some abandoned part of Dark Astoria. Others suggest that for the right money these "heroes" will hunt the worst that the world has to offer, apparently fearing no contract. They also seem to be on poor standing with half the heroic organizations of Paragon, due to 'not playing by the rules' and 'taking matters into their own hands'. They also have a reputation for mass destruction wherever they seem to be involved. On the opposite side of this coin however, they have never failed a contract, successfully ridding every haunt or monster they were hired to remove, and EVERY major criminal organization has a bounty out for these "heroes" and their 'slayer cult'.

Beyond the Pale

It may be well believed that mankind was heavens only children, this is not so. The Celestials(Angels), were the First race, blessed with immortality and connected directly to the Creator. The Angels were separated into seven houses to carry out the wondrous work and serve the will of the Light, their creator. Unified, these angels helped form the fabric of all that may be called reality, helping to shape a world of wonders and separate what "was" from that which "was not".

The Second race were the beasts, and Beastmen. Granted benign intelligence, and mastery over their domains of the wild, they too enjoyed immortality, and Became Aspected to what their guardianships pertained to within the worlds of the Mid realms. They were ruled by the First race for eons, but grew tired of servitude, and rebelled against their mistreatment. This lead to a long war against the Celestials. The Second race put up a valiant effort, but ultimately were no match for the First.

The Third Age

During the dawn of the Third Age (Mankind) many decisions began to split Heaven. Beginning with what was to be done with the Second race. After the war that ended the Second Age, most of the creatures were exiled from the Mid-realms. A select few, who contributed to the preservation of The Light were granted guardianships over the Mid-realms. Thus the origins of the Lycan's and many other beastmen. Those that were irredeemable were banished to the Outer realms where there is no light. Darenzel was an Angel of the First house, and herald of heaven, they were the voices of the Light, and the Hope of Heaven. He had fought valiantly alongside his brothers Azazel and Belial, for the preservation of The Light. After the banishment of the second race, Watchers were needed to make certain the Second race never returned. He volunteered immediately, the first to take up the honor of safekeeping the sanctity of The Light, and set up his vigilance with a fortification at the borders to the Outer realms. Many battles continued, as the vexed Second race harbored vengeance, and desired above all else to return to the lands of light. Heaven put into motion the rituals to create the Third race, the race of Man. The Celestials had learned a great deal from the rule of the Second race, and agreed to create a more timid and reasonable race. The Light, the creator made these creatures in his image, (not two hands, two legs, etc, but with a miniscule spark of the power that was the creator, infusing them with a power the angels did not have) When the decision was made that Heaven would play no part in the rule of "Mankind", that he would be free to create his own destiny and that heaven would have "No interferance", Heaven was split. Many of the Angels had fought and died restoring and saving Heaven's strength (Immortals of the First race are eternal, death is a millenia of reforming in the sacred tombs of Carceri, where all Celestials are reborn). Many had sacrificed or lost all their wealth and power to the war, they had been promised to have it all restored once peace was restored. A new Heaven was in order, and their sacrifices were seen as ultimate faith in the Creator, and that such devotion and service to the Light granted no greater reward. Those in Heaven were rattled but not past understanding, they knew that the creator loved them and understood things they never could. It was after Ahrimal, an Angel of the fates, discovered that mankind, was doomed to destroy himself, that he would be consumed by darkness and lost forever, his future was entwined with that of heaven and thus, the Light would Perish! It was upon this discovery that the accumulating agenda's grew to much for heaven to ignore. Ahrimal took his discoveries to the masters of his house of fates, yet they dismissed the dire tidings as "nothing to fear". Aghast, Ahrimal turned to his trusted friends, Belial, Usiel and Lailah, were they met in secret and discussed possible solutions to what the future promised. It was not untill Lucifer, the Morningstar, first among angels, and the voice of god, told them that something indeed must be done to preserve the integrity and peace of mankind, for their first command from the creator was to love mankind as much as they loved him, yet the commandment to never interfere conflicted with the first. Lucifer convinced his fellow angels to approach mankind and offer him the insight, and knowledge of Heaven, to elevate him, so that he could escape the dark destiny. Enraged at their interferance, The creator ordered they return and face annihilation for defying the Light's will, and that mankind forego the teaching of the rebel angels, and a return to what was before. Lucifer Resisted. This lead to the First race's revolt.

Turmoil (The Time of Troubles)

Darenzel's brothers revolted with hundreds of Angels against these decisions, feeling betrayed by The Light. After the proceeding protests and debates the hundreds of agitated Angels (the 666) were reduced to greatly in numbers. The Revolts became more aggressive, and extreme, nearly warlike. Finally it was Cain that changed how the Angels fought their war when he slew his brother Able. For a breath the world stood still, and the warring angels all took notice, it was then that blood was shed and the very first Angel was slain by his own. The revolters found themselves outcast, and enemies of The Light. The Archangels were formed to Protect Mankind from the fleeing Succeeders, and they stood resolute watch over the lesser race. The Arch's soon realized they underestimated just how quickly and how far their cousins had strayed from The Light, as more and more Angels found their death's. The Creator cast them from grace, marring their beauty, their flesh changed to match their hearts, and they no longer were part of The Light. The Real War had begun, and it had come to the Mid-realms. Hunts were organized to remove the Fallen from the Mid-realms and banish them to the Outer realms, The Creator built a barrier on the borders to the Outer realms, to imprison the Fallen forever banished beyond it. The war to remove the Fallen from the Mid-realms took a very long time, just over twenty thousand years. The Unity of Heaven gave them the strength to overcome the divided Fallen, who were too selfish to stand together against Heaven's warrior's. Man for the most part was left to his own devices, Heaven was far too preoccupied with their cousins. The Fallen however, had set the stone in motion, they had whispered secrets of the Arcane (a source of power besides that of The Light, that the Fallen created) and taught mankind to find faith elsewhere. Slowly and in disguises the Fallen shepharded mankind in many ways, helping to build empires and re-teaching their secrets to them. Heaven launched a Holy crusade to seek these Fallen out from mankind and banish them to the Outer realms. There are whispered few of those that managed to never be found by the Crusade, having learned well how to hide from Heaven's warriors, but the process to diminish their celestial nature waned much of their grace, and their powers with it.

Vigilance

Once the Fallen began to populate the Outer realms, the Second race had leadership, they had unity, but most importantly they had renewed purpose to fight the Angels. The Outer realms banishment was cruel to them. The separation from the light corrupted them, and degenerated them. They cross bred, they in-bred, and they multiplied. They developed hundreds of sub realms out of the darkness, each kingdoms and domains to themselves, and they had warred endlessly. They were now evil and filled with hatred. The Fallen gave them a new target to direct their viciousness. They granted them boons and promises of immortality, and power, for their servitude. The Idea of wrecking the realms of light is all they needed to spur them into a frenzy. The Fallen could no longer cross the void, to return to the Mid-realms, but they discovered ways for the Daemons to do so. With the help of Mankind's understanding of the Arcane power, they now had the ability to summon the Daemons, and commune with the Outlands, and the Fallen. From their eternal prison the Fallen orchestrated mankind's downfall, and the destruction of Heaven. Life for Darenzel thus became very intense. He did not discover his brothers had forsaken The Light, until they were banished to the Outer realms, that they had become enemies of The Light, and thus HIS enemies. The forces of the Outer realms were always growing and the Daemons were more and more aggressive.They were organized and tactical. The Threat was looming over him. The Angels under his charge grew weary of the Millennia of war, of the Isolation, of the distance from The Light. They knew nothing of the new Heaven, of the Third race, but hearsay and rumors, most of which came from the Daemons and Fallen. Darenzel felt out of touch, fighting for a Heaven that no longer was. He had doubts, he had pain, and his fellow Celestials were spent.

The Spiral

Millennia passed during the Third age's Stryfe, all the while Mankind was slipping further and further into Sin and darkness. Heaven recognized that though they were winning the battle to remove the Fallen from the mid-realms, the Fallen were winning the ultimate struggle, for the souls of Men. The Light called for a taskforce to brave the Outer realms and destroy the leadership of the Daemons, or forever lose the Third race. This meant to Darenzel the death of his brothers, and to countless others of his brethren. With a weary and heavy heart, and his resolute faith in The Light, he proceeded with his battalion of courageous Angels to do the impossible. The Fallen are cunning, wickedly black hearted and malicious. No one understands the Outer realms better then the Daemons and together they crushed the Celestials spirit and numbers. The Angels discovers a poisonous and vicious collection of realms, a foe who had mastered the Arcane power, and a relentless assault on their minds and bodies. Through one tormenting ordeal to another, after heavy losses, and attacks on their hearts, Darenzel was given a choice to surrender, and save his brethren, or die with them all in the wastes. It was his first lie. He agreed to their terms and they Fallen released his comrades so they might return to tell the tale of their discoveries in the Outer realms. The Fallen were true to their twisted word, and set them free, only to be hunted down mercilessly by ravening Daemons, killing them off one by one, until a lone survivor was allowed to escape. Infuriated by his brotheres treachery, Darenzel launched an attack on his captors, mortally wounding Belial (who suffers from the virtuous blow to this day). Darenzel was violently subdued and in his own rage, Belial struck him dead.

NOTE: I thought it very important to inform the reader that Carceri (the tomb of the immortals) fell to the Outer realms during further conflicts after Darenzel's death. Carceri was rebuilt as Valara (also known as Valhalla to other religions) much closer to the source of The Light, and all the Celestial's were re-attuned to its magic. Unfortunately for a handful of Angels who were currently reforming at Carceri, they would awaken in enemy territory.

Stories

Virtue's Ruin

Darenzel awakes to a dark and dusty tomb, howling wind threatens his safety from outside the ruined stone walls. He is disorientated and lost, up and down blend together, everything sounds so far away. His mind swims, he has no idea where he is or how he has got here.Something does not sit right, danger ebbs around the edges of everything, and in his stomach he knows something is wrong. He makes his way, stumbling, outside. Chaos. It engulfs everything, it IS everything. The ruins of a great temple is engulfed in a twisting sandstorm, which has eaten away everything to a wasteland. A dull fiery glow permeates the horizon, lost occasionally through the sands of howling winds. The turbulence roars like a living thing, hungry and raging.

Somehow, he knows this place, its called Carceri. What its purpose is, he cannot recall. He does know he must leave this place. he senses a presence here, hiding in the shadows, feels its malice. It makes that howling inferno inviting. The presence gnaws at his conscience mind, terrible and savage, it wants him.

Instinctively he searches for a weapon, what he would do with it he is unsure, but he finds comfort in the thought of being armed. Nothing. Only dust and rubble remains. The presence is closing, like its creeping closer, its everywhere, like whispers, closing. Closing for the kill.

Racing from the ruins, the wind hammers him like a ram, viciously whipping, trying to beat him into submission. He looks back, seeing the presence, they are wraiths, several of them, pools of shadow, their claws gripping the stones as they creep from their holes of darkness. Outside jagged rocks, and a rubbled wasteland await. promising a torturous death of stroke and despair. The sand streams off of everything, hypnotically, it howls around everything. It burns his flesh and stings his eyes. By the Light what is this?

The wraiths are closing, moving faster as the excitement of flesh, of the hunt takes them. They let cry murderous screams, filled with hate and pain, promising a savage and miserable death. He tries to run, scrambling over the rocks, the ground and stone crumble with decay. The wind burns, blistering his flesh, it tears at him, as if its allied with the Darklings. he knows he cannot escape them, they move too fast, so very fast... They bound impossible distances in the blink of an eye. Something primal takes over, he must fight them, and he hides. They are smart, they spread out looking for him. Waiting, his anxiety builds exponentially, surely they know where he is, they are simply closing for the kill, surrounding him. Then he sees one, it does not know where he is, its still searching, sniffing the chaotic winds like an animal finding the scent. He lunges then at the Darkling, knocking it off balance, but its quick, and recovers immediately, its counter attack hurls him from his feet, and into a boulder roughly. With inhuman speed its upon him, snarling and hungry. His head is reeling, and he tries to right himself, but its weight is intense. It rakes at his face, vicious claws cleave his flesh like cream. Its breath is rotten with decay. His face is on fire, but he gropes desperately for something, ANYTHING his fingers curl around something solid, and with everything he smashes it into the monsters head, and is rewarded with a sickening crunch. It is wounded, but not defeated, black ichor oozes from its face. In desperation he dashes the stone repeatedly into its skull, until its legs give, until its skull gives. He was alive, by the Light, he was alive!

His respite is short lived, the others let cry another murderous scream, long and mournful, they know one of theirs has fallen, and they are coming. He spies a crude blade, only a knife on the fallen darklings corpse, silently thanking the fates, he snatches up the weapon, scrambling he hides again. He ambushes a second wraith as it closes on the fallen, its eyes scan the rocks attentively. He leads with a heavy stone, which slams home in the monsters back, sending it tumbling, he leaps upon the Darkling plunging the blade into its chest and neck repeatedly. It never stood a chance, the monster drowned in its own ichor, and only managed feeble scratches at him in its death throes.

He notices too late, as the last charges him, it shreds his unprotected back with savage claws, the pain screams through his skull, drowning out his own cries of anguish. Before he can recover it is upon him, clawing his face with monstrous strength, blood poors from his face, his right eye is useless. Feebly he manages to place the blade between the Darklings ribs. Snarling in fury it moves to bite him, desperately he thrusts his hand into the path. Savagely it chews through three of his fingers, and buries its claws into the flesh of his arm. He swoons from the pain, he has lost too much blood, it was his doom. Somehow, unconsciously, he stabs the monster in the collar, just below the neck, its claws recede, desperately he twists the blade for all he is worth, tearing the wound open. Gurgling, it release him, and thrashing, tries to defy its death.

He can taste the beasts foul and noxious blood, but the flavor grants him such sustenance! As it dies he frantically crawls toward the Darkling and stabs it again, raining blows upon it until its death spasms cease. Shakingly he raises his ichor covered hands to his mouth. What foul and odious stuff this was! but he felt better, so much better. Teary eyed he plunges his face into the gore of the monsters throat and drinks deeply, feeling vigor returning.

What a monster he was! his left hand destroyed, his face in shreds, and now his very soul was in dire jeopardy. The tormenting winds burned so fierce his flesh was cracked and crumbling. He like the ruins was being destroyed by the very realm.

He managed weakly to move away from the Darklings bodies, horrified at what he had done. Weeping at what he was. By the Light! What was happening?

THE LIGHT! He remembered it, he served it, it created him, sustained him, loved him and all things. Where was it now? Had it forsaken him? Left him for dead? His pain was intense, its reality brought him back to the wasteland that was, the Nether.

He began moving, how long he journeyed no one knows. He kept on moving until his legs crumbled, burned and worn to dust, the wind took them. Then he tried to crawl, the sands wearing him down, weathering his body to dust. The horror had him, here he would perish, destroyed away from the light. His sight went next, the fiery winds burned his eyes to useless orbs. He must have failed, the Light loved him no more, he was Anathema. What had he done to be forsaken and allowed to die thusly?

A deep and soothing voice called to him, its power silenced the furious roar of the wind, and caused the storm to calm some. It promised salvation, prizes of beauty, of love. It promised to restore him, lulled him, that he need not die thusly. He was wasting away, his arms dust, his flesh nearly all gone. he was a whisper from total annihilation. It promised to mend his mind, and heal his broken body, to make him whole and beautiful again. It could not do such wonders so long as he was a servant of the Light. To be saved... he must FALL. With no time to decide, he faced oblivion. Away from the Light, there was no coming back a second time, no resurrection. Salvation was a word away.

"WILL YOU FALL?""

The Angel's Heart and Spirit were broken...

"... yes"

OOC Notes

• Attempts to Lie to him are likely to fail, this is an automatic celestial Ability, allowing him to distinguish the resonance in truth.

• Darenzel has trained his supernatural senses to better locate and identify the supernatural, giving him a preternatural ability to ascertain the origins of many of the creatures he encounters.

• Attempts to read his mind or emotions by Immortals of Divine Origin (may- send tell in RP) discover a troubled mind, confused, and angry. Feelings of loneliness and despair, often masked by false sense of power and anger. He feels he has lost his place in the Light, and is doomed to Reside forever in darkness, though he committed no sin.

• His Origins are ancient, if a scryer is an Immortal of Divine Origin, they might discern all that is present at this page about Darenzel through "Legend Lore/Past Reading", and his aura radiate's Celestial, though tainted by the Arcane of Falling.

• Other Divine Origins may sense the lingering power of a specific Being upon him, its "scent/feel" is unmistakably that of Akoman. They may also discover if particularly talented (level 35+) that is indeed an angel of the Seraphim, the First house, and thusly related to many Angels in Theology.

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