Xain 'Cruor' Sykes
Character
(Template Inspired by [member="Lady Sovereign"])
The Risen
“There’s no curse in the world that can halt the ravages of time….”
Xain ‘Cruor’ Sykes
Personal Information
• Pronunciation: (X-Ian) (Kroo-awr) (Sahyks)
• Alias: The Risen, The Undead Mage, Grim, Ancient One
• Faction: The Awoken
• Rank: Initiate
• Species: Dathomirian Zabrak (Rare features)
• Age: Looks (29) Official Age: Unknown
• Sex: Male
• Language: Galactic Standard, Togruti (Fluent)i, and Sith (Minor)
• Marital Status: Single
• Height: 1.9 Meters / 6’2
• Weight: 77 Kg / 170 Lbs.
• Eyes: Pearlescent, Silver-Opaque (Colors they change to are Red)
• Hair: Silver, White
• Skin: Pale, Greyish Blue
• Force Alignment: Neutral Good
• Virtues: Temperance & Patience
• Sins: Envy & Pride
• Force Sensitive: Absolutely.
• Theme Song: Night of Rain
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Strengths and Weakness
“While there are many….I refuse to be brought down by my own flaws.”
+ Intuitive - the ability to understand or know something without any direct evidence or reasoning process. This allows for incredible insight when it comes to strangers and even future events.
+ Self-Motivation - initiative to undertake or continue a task without another's prodding and supervision. Warped into a disturbingly advanced world, Xain is forced to, by himself, take on a multitude of challenges. Challenges that may seem mundane to others.
+/- Risk Taker – Xain is a man of many things, but one thing that still seems to be present in his everyday life are risks. Never too shy to put himself in danger when it comes to his allies. Having cheated death once, Xain finds the idea of facing it as a mere obstacle. With all great risks, comes great reward.
+/- Transformation – Xain wasn’t always so muscular or burly, a gift to some. While he is unsure of the reasoning behind his resurrection, Xain is a changed man. Imbued by the force his body has gone through a significant change. Like everyone else his new body has downsides. Adjusting to such change can be problematic, whether it be balance, comfortability and maintenance.
- Claustrophobic- being in a tomb for more than eight hundred years can have interesting side effects. One being a phobia of tight and enclosed spaces. Xain can’t stand being stuck in small rooms or boxes, this can cause him to form anxiety and pass out.
- Cursed – being brought back from the dead doesn’t come without its price. In this case receiving life has forced Xain to take them in order to survive. Sucking the blood of his victims in order to sustain life. He is by no means a vampire, simply needs blood in order to live, the blood must be fresh, no older than twelve hours.
“Change can be a scary thing….trust me I know.”
Since the Hybridization of Human Females and Zabraks, females of Dathomir were known for their Pale white skin. The males came in variants of skin colors, some more prominent then others. Although there is always a sheep in the gene pool. That sheep happened to be Xain, a young male Zabrak. His skin took on the more perplexing hue of the females of Dathomir. A male Zabrak with pale skin.
This wasn’t the only rare occurrence in his birth. Markings were few and far between. Xain’s body held an intricate design along his abdomen, mainly on his left side. The markings were different from other Zabraks and in turn made him unique. The last and most notable feature were his horns, he had none. Xain was the first of his kind to grow hair, lush and silver. The hair made up for his lacking traits of a Zabrak.
Skinny and tall. Xain stood at a staggering 6’2. His weight came to a lacking seventy-seven kilograms. His arm length was his greatest advantage, 74” in length. While his legs were boney, his muscular calves showed through. With his fingers taking on slender properties, his knuckles were exposed more than normal. The skin of Xain was smooth, free from any signs of hard work with machinery or tedious scavenging.
One of his best features were his eyes, taking on a pearlescent white. With side-effects from the sudden gift of life, Xain’s eyes could change to a crimson red. His face was slim with boney cheeks. His nose was sharp and narrow. His lips a dark wine. Xain’s silver hair was lengthy, resting at his shoulders.
-After Resurrection-
Holding onto his natural features Riven had become a changed man. The once skinny, inadequate individual had become a muscular and capable asset to the galaxy. Xain’s chest widened, his shoulders becoming toned. The indents of his stomach created a six pack. His once boney legs were now a fit, tailored to a lifetime of athletic accomplishments. While his face still held a slim look his ears grew longer, forming a pointy tip. His hair took on a feature that seemed to accent him better, instead of the stringy and lifeless ways of his past. Taking on a more luxuriant and bold look from his reincarnation.
“Nothing but the finest…”
Xain’s attire was lackluster in color. Riven always seemed to wear a black leather trench coat. One of its features was a collar, wrapping around the back side of his neck. With an overlay of silver plating across his long sleeved coat, it provided protection. Alongside the ornate metal designs were engraved symbols. On his left plate bore a flourishing tree, a set of branches stretching to the outlines of the silver mold. Upon his right plate formed a distinctive skull, two tiny red jewels hidden inside. Holding the steel gear from moving was a dark, leather strap on each of his shoulders.
At his forearms were vambraces each of them black. Made of leather and alloy, they took on an interesting design. Two straps held it in place underneath his wrists. Extending to his fingers was a string that slipped between his fingers for comfort. The circular inscriptions on them revealed an Ouroboros.
Underneath his trench coat was a light chest plate, capable of taking a few blaster bolts. In the center of the armor sat a garnet jewel. Due to this, the armor was indented, breaking up each layer of its intricate design. The armor also had a creative appeal, light grey tribal marks covering the entirety of the chest piece. At his waist hung a belt that was brown, layered with latches to keep his keepsakes close. The buckle of the belt was a polished white gold.
At Xain’s left side rested his sheathe, carrying a long Neutronium blade. The blade took on the straight properties of an old Sith sword. On the opposing side were other combat effective gadgets. Loose strands of the trench coat split towards the end of it. This feature gave off a wraith like look while he moved. His legs were covered with a dark cloth, stretching to the insides of his black boots. On such boots were tiny steel rivets for the laces to fit perfectly into. Concealed inside his long tailored coat were some of his everyday possessions.
“Anyone can kill…It takes a man to repent for it.”
Xain is a man of internal conflict. Risen from his own grave he tends to feel very lost. Unaware of the current galactic date he only has knowledge of his past ventures. This can sometimes make him seem distant from others. While Xain is confused about his second chance at life, being inquisitive about everything has made him more understanding of the world and less of his predicament. Soft at heart, his actions show otherwise. Forced to do things he would rather not makes him constantly ask, ‘Why.’ Trying to find a place in the galaxy for his essential gift of magic he seeks those like him hoping to find what he needs.
Truly a good person, Xain tries to help those around him in need. He feels that doing such things will make up for what he has to do in order to survive. Complicated when it comes to his previous life, Xain finds little enjoyment out of those willing to kill for the greater evil. Trying to find justice in many acts of the galaxy, he questions why he, himself isn’t on the list to be purged. Xain feels like coming back to life was the worst thing that could have possibly happened, hating himself, and envying others.
Being cursed is one thing, having to drink the life source of another being is entirely different. Plagued by such a task to survive, Xain tried to fight the thirst of blood. While he tends to be extremely patient, Xain can also be very impatient when it comes to vengeance. Considering himself a monster he tries to make up for his awful deeds, by helping others and looking for whoever brought him back from the dead. Connected to the other side, Xain is very at peace with taking risks for those he is close to. Dying again would probably be better than being force to survive on the blood of the innocents.
Pride in his abilities as a mage of Dathomir,. he tends to recognize his own accomplishments in the arts of the force or magic, as he refers to it. This sometimes leads him to be very confident in himself during practitions of the dark side. Even with all his rueful actions Xain is able to stay well-tempered, focusing on the good he does in contrast to killing.
“Death can’t stop everyone…..But it can delay their rule for a while.”
In his younger years on Dathomir, Xain was a boy among women. The Nightsister tradition had become a thing of normality. Enslaved to the Witches of Dathomir, Xain had to show his worth. Living a life of servitude seemed to make him more of a patient boy, waiting for his accomplishments within the clan of sisters to be noticed. Partaking in rituals and having a strong connection to the force, the clans sought out for Zabraks with his talents. Only Xain was unique and because of it was an outcast of his own kind. Hornless and without defining marks he was tossed to the wind. Although originally he was meant for petty things such as sacrificial services and curing the weak with the plants of Dathomir, he became much more.
Throughout the years of the Nightsister’s fight for dominance over other clans, Xain became a vital role. At the mere age of 12 he was capable of Pyrokinesis. The rarity of such power seemed to impress the other clans, seeking his gift for the future.
Finally becoming a man, at the age of seventeen the Nightsister’s sought to mate with him, only he was in love. Another slave by the name of Miri had taken his heart. For years he had been helping her during daily services. Creating fires at a moment’s notice and even helping her feed the sisters. Slavery wasn’t a life he had sought for himself, let alone the witchery teachings of the Sisters. He felt that the sinister practices of it were more than likely used for evil than good. Xain could no longer follow orders under the Nightsister’s tyranny. For too long had he been cast aside, not only by his own people, but the Nightsister’s as well.
In love and plagued with his unnatural characteristics he planned an escape. Confessing his love to Miri he hoped she felt the same. Miri was hesitant to say that she loved him and in return agreed to flee with him. On the night of the escape Xain found Miri tied to a pole in the center of camp. Nails driven into her palms as she was held in place. The Sisters had known of his love, his refusal to mate with the clan had brought him misfortune. As if his world was torn down from all sides he realized the one thing he had forgotten, love hurts. Looking to Miri one last time a cold blade met his throat, death knocking on his heart…
Eight hundred and forty-nine years later…
The entrance way to the tomb had a forbidding presence, crows filtering through the narrow branches overhead. Dead and grey the trees twisted throughout the dark forest. Whispers of what once was tickling the concealed intruder. Time had brought many things into question for the wanderer. The mysterious figure made its way further into the dense decrepit scenery. The chilling winds of the night forcing the robes of the unwanted guest into the pitch black abyss. Tightly holding firmly to it the figure prevented he garments from slipping away in the violent wind. The force had brought them here, a place of memory and despair. For years it had been their mission to find where they placed the body.The crunching of twigs attracted nearby beasts of the ruthless planet to growl and hiss at the unknown figure. Marching on they reached a small light deep in the brush, the hard pathway becoming a wet and muddy inconvenience.
Lifting their hand the figure waved it through the air gently, a small blue light forming around the fingers, illuminating the way through the treacherous terrain. Weaving in and out of the thorns of the forest, they arrived at a small arching entrance way. A flickering flame reflecting off the inner walls of the stone made tunnel.
Walking deeper down the fragile steps, the smell of dirty water reached the air. Tendrils of latching veins and corruption plagued the inner sanctum. Nothing but the sounds of tiny droplets of water slipping in from the surface. Colder than the outside horrors of the night, the figure shook its head. Slowly making way for the torch the being grabbed onto it and continued. The force spoke to this abandoned place. The hollow walls of the tomb seemed to whisper tragedy, betrayal, and death. Only one being would have been thrown in the depths of a rotting place to sleep eternally. This was something only the mysterious intruder knew.Turning through the winding halls they finally stopped.
A small wide open room presenting itself to the figure as they moved the torch forward, looking in. The torch revealed a stone grave, thick with red jewels lined up along the sides of it. Quickly lifting its hood, the figure revealed a woman. Her hair was straight and black. The eyes of the woman widened, with it a smile.“I’ve found you after all these years…” Her voice forming a susurrate tone.
Placing the torch into the side holster of the room she began to place everything in front of the grave. A small dagger with inscriptions on it was the first thing to be used. Slashing her hand open the blood spilled over the tomb, flowing off the sides. Some of the red liquid managing to find its way into the sealed stone cover. Then with a quick trade she slashed her other hand, this time with a small chant escaping her lips. More blood poured onto the stone grave, like before, the liquid found its way in. Then came the cloth. Reaching for it on the ground the woman unfolded it and placed it on top of the tomb. Soaking up the blood she waited.
The sound of spirits called out to her, warning her to not proceed. Ignoring such things she knelled. She began to speak, a language far beyond comprehension. The torch’s flame rose with a violent intensity as she continued to chant. Asking for the dead’s help a spiral of blue energy wrapped around her, the sudden shake of the ground began to make the stone grave in front of her crack. Nothing could allow her to turn back now. With the scriptures in front of her in a small book she moved her hands in an odd motion and stood. The outlining of her body turning to a sharp blue. The dark side of the force embraced her and with it she let out a loud cry. Her back arched upwards as she began to levitate. Spinning in the air the air the tomb’s stone cover fell off. A sudden burst of energy ripping through the desolate tunnels of the dead. The blue light around the woman began to dissipate as it slithered into the dead corpse within the stone grave.
Like a black hole the energy was siphoned from her body and into the stone coffin. Falling to the floor the ripples of the force left her. Reaching her feet she stepped closer to the open coffin, the dead body shimmering with a vest blue light. She would only have a few moments to grab her things and leave. Quickly she made for the exit after grabbing her things, if she was successful with the Dark transfer he would be brought back from the clutches of death.
12 hours later
The spell wasn’t as quickly effective a she thought. The dead body transforming into an improved version of what used to be. The pale blue skin began to come to life, muscles protruding from beneath. The dark side scratched at him as he shot up, gasping for air, his slim face expressing a deep pain. As if the once dead body traveled through hell and back to awake. The flashing images of the other side came and went. Snapping into reality for the first time in a couple thousand years, Xain turn his head, a loud snap coming from his stiff bones. An eternal rest such as the one he experienced was bound to develop kinks. Moving his jaw he adjusted himself, wondering where he was. His silver hair seemed fuller, silver even.
Moving his legs he bent them, his once skinny teenage appearance seemed to have changed. Xain’s legs were fit, lined with a muscular indents, much like his stomach. His eyes were an illuminating white as they found his arms. Buff and strange to him he rubbed his eyes, looking once more to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Blood seemed to stain his rag tag clothing, unsure of where his normal coat had gone he shrugged, a painful headache reaching his brain. His lips seemed cracked and dry. His heart slowly pumped, almost hurting as he breathed. Lifting himself out of his grave he stood, losing balance from the transformation.
Then it happened, like a ravaging lunatic he felt it. The urge to drink. Xain couldn’t take it, the sound of whispers filling his head. Hinting at what he needed. Trying to gain some form of balance he walked to the dripping water near the corner of the room. Splashing down onto him, he arched his head backwards, drinking like a mad man. Minutes had gone by and still the thirst lingered. A voice slipping into his mind like the intruder that brought him back to life.
Drink…
Becoming dizzy he fell over, his elbows smashing into the hard, wet floor below. Shifting his eyes to the few things left behind by the woman, he could smell it.
Blood.
Crawling over to the package of sealed thick blood he hugged it close, the sound of his heart speeding up as he smelled it. It excited him, the fresh cells inside making him question his own feelings. Something was wrong, Xain’s stomach turning like a whirlpool. The dark transfer may have been successful but the side-effect far outweighed the accomplishment. The voice was louder now, enticing him to drink from the package.
Drink it….. Or die….
Letting out a frustrated grunt, Xain’s long fingernails cut through it. The thirst for it enhanced as the tiny droplet was released from the sealed bag. It was clear the voice in his head was telling him to stay alive, but his disapproval of such a disgusting task made him contemplate listening to his inner demons. Trying to fight it, the voice came one last time.
The blood! You idiot you need it! Want it! Without it you are no more, do it now!
The voice yelled at him deep in his mind, his mouth placed onto the opened hole of the bloody filled bag. Sucking he felt a burst of intensity, the winey substance touching his tongue and slipping down his throat.
Yes…
The voice approved, letting him know to continue.
Before he realized it, the blood was gone. Licking his lips he frowned, he was too weak to suppress such an odd thirst. Wiping the residue mess he made from his chin, he began to sob. The idea of needing blood just to live seemed like punishment for his return, something he didn’t even ask for. Curling into a ball he fell into a state of depression trying to make light of his situation. The force calling out to him like it always had.
Freezing he looked to the other assortment of items left behind. His tradition trench coat and a new form of armor laid about the floor. Fixing his emotional self, Xain began to change. Finally dressed, he looked to the last item Xain knew he was buried with, a sword. Reaching for the old aged blade he slid it into his belts sheathe. Confused at the thought of being brought back to life he made his way for the exit.
The force around him reminding him of his capabilities, rubbing his fingers together he drew the torch’s flame into his hand. Illuminating the way to the surface.
Cursed and lonely, the galaxy was no longer the same and neither was Xain….
“Taunting me won’t make my talents go away….”
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{Apprentice - Knight - Advanced Knight - Master - Specialist}
GENERAL
Stealth
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Xain knows a thing or two about sneaking around. Living a life of hunting he learned to use many tactical movements to hide himself from the untrained eye. Capable of blending in with a normal crowd, hiding in shadows and sneaking up behind someone, Xain can be a deadly foe.
Writing
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Writing is a medium of human communication that represents language and emotion through the inscription or recording of signs and symbols. Since he was a young child Xain was always proficient with words. His knowledge of many languages and ancient scriptures are a plus. His handwriting is neat, understandable and most of all a masterpiece in some cases.
Ambidextrous
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Xain was always a righty. Until he began to write, he found that with his left he was capable of more diligent writing. For years he jotted down notes of his experience with the many cultures he came across. While at first it seems a mundane skill, Xain has exercised this particular skill in combat, thus allowing him, if needed to wield more than one blade.
Adept Botanist
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Xain knows plants. Everything from their source of food, lifespan, and even defense mechanisms. Being from an older form of the galaxy has proved him invaluable with medicines. Capable of using fauna from many different worlds, he creates his own antidotes, medicines, and even food.
Tracking
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Being from a different time has proven useful in his arts of tracking. With the mixture of his intuition and natural affinity for tracking, Xain is a great hunter. At one point in his life hunting was the only way to survive. Through ancient methods of his own, he’s been known to catch even the most difficult of prey, people.
Leatherworking
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Xain knows a thing or two about leather. This has helped him more times than he could count. Anything from soft made leather bandages, bags, coats, pockets, you name it Xain can probably make it out of Leather. This had become a valuable talent, allowing him to fix holes in his attire.
Musician
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Talented in the arts of music, he combines his knowledge of many different instruments in the galaxy to impress those around him. Also an exceptional flute player, he has, many times, used it during rituals for his magic. Some even say that his elegance with the tones and pitches could easily put you to sleep.
COMBAT
Blade Work
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Xain has an above average capability of using bladed weapons, usually with such things as a short sword or knife though he can use a long sword as well. Anything heavier/bigger than a long sword is a bit harder for him to use.
Gunslinging
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Guns are a force to be reckoned with, however, with the technological changes throughout the galaxy, Xain isn’t quite good at using Blaster Pistols or any gun really. While he has used them before, his success with them is awfully apparent, he’s a terrible shot.
Concentration
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Focus is sometimes key to casting spells. Being consistently attentive to the fight in front of him, Xain is capable of a balanced blend of sword and magic. His concentration in the midst of battle is by no means perfect, but adequate enough to strike him as adept.
Strength
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While many believe that speed is needed. A slow and heavy precise swing of a blade is key. Xain’s toned features give him the ability to wield his precious blade with ease. Striking a foe with full force would surely amount to severe injury. That’s not the only place where strength applies. When it comes to activities such as, Lifting, Pushing, Pulling, Throwing and Punching, Xain succeeds tremendously.
Piloting
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While ships were around when he was originally conceived he rarely got behind the wheel. Xain is a stranger to the new age of Starships. Unable to understand the complexity of them, he hopes to one day become an able pilot.
Agility
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Xain is pretty fast, but not the fastest. Being agile allows him to be quick on his feet and hands. This allows him to maneuver at semi- faster rates than others. He is by no means untouchable, just quite skilled at frontal dodges. While he strives for quicker reflexes he chooses to train in this particular area very rarely.
“There’s nothing like it….Magic, that is.”
Dathomir Spells
Flames of Justice – Xain is capable of conjuring fire. Much like its counterpart Force Convection, Xain is able to form fire on a molecular level. In doing so, Xain can cause already present flammables to combust. While he isn’t quite able to conjure a fireball, he can at close range burn someone with this spell.
Imbuement – (Force Weapon) Xain can channel the magical forces of the galaxy and imbue his weapon. This allows his ancient blade to take on a saber without being melted away. This spell lasts for a maximum of ten minutes, until Xain can enhance his magical power.
Gift of the Feather – (Force Lift) Xain at a young age was capable of lifting heavy objects with his magical gifts. While this can be applied to many activities, Xain has been known to slightly lift opponents to the air. This however is only for a brief moment and allows for a killing blow. He can also lift himself to small heights, roughly ten feet.
Horrors of the Dead- (Force fear) a new ability achieved through death itself, Xain has a connection to fear. Living beings always seem to have a fear of death, through his own experiences alone, Xain is capable of conjuring horrific images of anyone’s traumatic phobias. Highly effective, it also takes some time to cast, leaving him vulnerable during incantation.
Barrier of Blood- (Force Barrier) by cutting his own hand, Xain can create a barrier around the intended target, be it self, friend and foe. The barrier takes on a red stasis field, able to block incoming fire for a short period of time.
The Giving tree- (Force Heal) a power that can accelerate the healing process. Also Xain has been known to cure minor wounds on the field of battle. One other application is the process to heal the ill, this application takes the longest and can sometimes pose a threat to the healer itself.
Consitor Sato- (Plant Surge) improving the rate at which plants grow, Xain can bend the life force of many trees and plants around him. This can even be used in combat, capable of ensnaring his foes with constricting vines and twisted branches. Of course once ensnared the user would need the force or finesse to escape.
Shaper Magic
N/A
“The most essential things in life are what you choose to use.”
Sword of the Dead- a longsword in Xain’s possession. Made of Neutronium and crafted by a well-known blacksmith from his time.Sacrificial Dagger- a small twisted blade used for sacrifices, or blood rituals.
Chest Armor of the Cursed Garnet- a well-made protective chest guard capable of absorbing a few blaster bolts. In the center rests a gleaming garnet.
Ouroboros Vambraces- Forearm guards used for blocking sharp objects. While many more advanced versions of it exist he prefers to use them against slugthrowers.
Throwing Knives- regular metal throwing knives, used for surprising antics in battle.
Grimoire- a book of his spells and experiences with death itself. A constant recording of his inner conflict can be seen on the edges of each page, noted every so often, are his thoughts.
Feather Quill- an old quill used for writing, Xain always seems to have a few hidden away in his black leather trench coat.
Mortar and Pestle- a tool used for crushing and mixing herbs, plants and liquid substances. Xain tries to keep these old antiques with him or on his ship.
Demitry Sykes- The great grandfather of Xain Sykes, said to be a previous Nightbrother capable of preforming devastating rituals that could burn forests and villages to the ground. Only known relative to date.Lance Jacobs- A pilot that happened to meet Xain on the planet of Dathomir. Deciding to help each other out, Xain hired him. Without skill to fly, Xain allowed Lance to become his personal pilot forming a great bond over the past year. Lance pilots the Laughing Coffin a YG-4210 Corellian model.
More to come....
SHIP
Laughing Coffin
