Osthryd
One Armed Swordsman
"Forgive me... for I've availed you nothing..."
- Osthryd's dying thought of apology to his people, and friend.
| Societal Information |
Name: Osthryd
Pronunciation: [Oz-thrid]
Alias(es): "Shadowtreader"
Martial Status: None
Force Sensitive: Yes
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Home-world: Dead
| Physical Information |Species: Sithspawn (Still bears mostly human qualities and sentience.)
Gender: Male
Age: Last identified to be in late twenties, early thirties
Height: 5'11"
Weight: Slim, athletic build
Eye Color: N/A
Hair Color: N/A
Skin Pigmentation: Pale, chalk-white
| Personality |
Cold, apathetic, and cruel. Osthryd's entire personality has been erased and rebuilt into an identity he would never once attempt to become in his prior existence. Becoming a Sithspawn has altered the once proud knight into not only a being connected to the Darkside, but has twisted and consumed his body to the point of barely being recognized as a mere man, but instead a creature wearing the face and flesh of a person.
Memories of a past life and vague, dying strands of humanity still show in some capacity, albeit dulled and distorted by aggression and a corrupted mind. A servant of the Sith, and nothing greater than a weapon with a sentience.
| Strengths & Weaknesses |
[ + / - ] A Broken Man - Osthryd has, in every regard, failed himself and everything he held dear. Transformed by Sith Alchemy into a disturbed imitation of a once refined, steel-willed warrior. Shadow now inhabits his form as a ruthless weapon, being used by the Sith to spill the blood of any they deem an enemy or a nuisance. Endless torment and rage keep the once proud knight from ever finding any respite, his mind always alert and in agony, seeking an end by one whom can best him in singular combat.
Due to his transformation, Osthryd is extremely agile and harnesses an unnatural level of strength for a humanoid. Able to lift and wield heavy weaponry proficiently without tiring.
[ - ] Strong Arm - A major flaw in Osthryd's functionality is his left arm - broken, and atrophied beyond further use or repair. For this, he must compensate and wield his weapon one-handed at all times. This also leaves him very vulnerable and open to attacks.
| Biography |
The nighttime sky, how it was alive like the flickering of candles. Fire threatened to consume and burn all, the thin clouds hiding the moon so that it may not take part in what horrors it did witness then. The crisp breeze wafting in the smoke and particles of scorched earth, the greenery wilted and dead from abuse.
That was the night they came, the dark ones.
The bells tolled, the siren-call of women shrieking in panic alongside their families. They drowned in the sea of battle, the cacophony of steely resistance and refusal to give way to malice.
It wasn't enough.
A man, a hero among his people whom was affectionately labeled as the Shadowtreader, tried his blade at repelling the threat of the dark ones alongside his Nexu companion. Many-a brave ally fell, their blood beginning to pool in the streets as homes and buildings crackled with overwhelming flame. Faint screams echoed throughout the air, but none came to their source or aid.
Death shrouded the land, darkness moved in droves.
Osthryd held his ground, continuing to fight an already lost battle. He and his companion killed as many as they could, but the small quantities they managed to slay did not compare to what was already lost. Wounded and bleeding, Osthryd's will kept him from seeking surrender or cowardice.
Pain was endured, blows were exchanged, and the test of endurance was beginning to put all its weight on the knight and his friend. After seeing his companion become injured, Osthryd knew that neither of them would survive until daybreak.
And so, the knight forced his companion to fall at his backside. A moment of closure somehow pried its way into the fray of combat as Osthryd turned to tell his friend, his only living comrade to run.
The knight could not bear the loss of another life.
Mustering all the strength and courage he could, Osthryd faced down the multitude of foes before him. His body being struck again, and again. For every few that were slain, a new understanding of pain was felt. Left arm broken from the force of an enemy's attack, the man still tried to stand in defiance.
But to no avail.
Tears stained the hero's cheeks, for he did not understand the cruelty or nature of these invaders. Falling to his knees from exhaustion, Osthryd was defeated. But for his bravery and strength, the dark ones saw something useful.
A weapon in the form of a man.
- Daybreak -
Osthryd's Nexu companion came out of hiding only to find smoldering detritus and corpses of those once known as friends or allies. Retracing its steps back to where its master fought, it only found a broken blade in the place of where a body should be. Collecting the destroyed sword by the hilt, the creature continued to wander the kingdom's streets.
But the only thing it found was isolation, and sorrow.
The sun shined upon the horizon, and the wind whisked away the smoke.
- To Be Continued -