Dedicated to Those Who Serve

Name: Hadriel Nostros
Gender:Male Location: Stone Talon Fortress
Age: Unknown
Height: 5 foot 9 inches
Weight: 165 pounds
Hair: Black
Eyes: Silver
Martial Status:Single
Occupation: Knight

Armor:Carpace of Bane, a suit of heavy spiked and bladed Gothic-style plate male. It is the color of night, dark as ebony and absorbs, rather than reflects light, making him near invisible in the darkness, save for his eyes. The warped helmet, formed in the face of a demon is grotesque and intimidating, and the eyes of it radiate a fiery red in the darkness, this light shining from the eyes actually being a spell to aid him in seeing in the dark. The armor is forged of Hellfired-steel and is able to turn aside most mundane blades, but a weapon of holy origins is likely to pass through the armor with far less resistance, dark blades alike will be able to puncture the armor with more ease than a mundane blade, perhaps as a normal sword would against ringmail.

Weapon: Soul- Thorne, a jagged bladed Zweihãnder the Soul- Thorne is the source of Hadriel-s power, and in many ways his longevity. The sword is increadibly sharp, the metal forged in the flames of the underworld, giving it the ability to cut through most armor with ease, seeking out the life essence that it so longs for. Its touch is near fatal to any creature with a life energy, for good or evil it will try to sate its unending thirst by stealing any essence it can, save that of its wielder. In the matter of dealing with things undead, however, it is about as useful as a club, its blade not penetrating armor or even flesh for that matter, since there is no essence for it to steal.

It is also soul-linked to Hadriel and if it is removed from a close distance to him he will wither and become weak, barely able to walk, or even stand. His already pale skin will become near transparent and and his muscle will deteriorate until he is naught but skin and bones. It is plausible that should he be away from it long enough he may die. It conveys to him the essence it steals from its victims, extending his life a small percentage of the lifespan remaining in that which it kills.

It was nearly four hundred years ago when the Ivory Hand was destroyed. An elite group of Paladins the Ivory Hand was known for their righteousness and devotion to quenching Avarill from all evil, a noble and utterly frivilous quest, but one that they pursued with unrivalled fidelity. It was one of their own that would eventually be their down-fall, an ambitious young Paladin by the name of Hadriel. Hadriel was born in squallor, his family barely able to sustain themselves, and so their son was turned over to the Ivory Hand, to be a servant, with their hopes that he would eventually rise into their illustrious ranks.

Hadriel's rise was swift, and by the age of twenty-five he was held in high regard by almost all of those in the Order. It was shortly there-after that things turned sour for the young Paladin. In a battle against a creature of darkness he was defeated and left for dead, clinging onto the last strings of his life. It was then that he swore that he would sacrifice his eternal soul to gain the power to destroy the evil beast that had bested him. It was then that Nerull, god of Death came to the fallen Paladin, offering great power in return for fealty, foolishly young Hadriel gave himself to the dark diety and thus found himself cursed.

In his hands he found the Soul-Thorne, a weapon of mythical porprtions, a sword that was capable of stealing the soul of a slain enemy, the sword empowered him, its dark energies radiating through his body as he rose from the ground, the skys seeming to shudder at the rise of such a dark being. His glistening white armor grew dark and dark, pointed spikes errupted from the shoulder pads, whilst razor sharp blades sprouted from his bracers and his once regal and angelic helmet grew dark and demonic in appearances, horns sprouting from the helmet as the face guard shifted and took on the image of a demonic skull.

Empowered now he was able to defeat the cursed creature that lay before him, wielding the Soul-Thorne with increadible skill, the massive blade rending his adversary apart with ease, but the curse had one other cruel twist, it placed deep within him an unholy bloodlust that was never sated with the blood of evil, for its designs were against beings of good. The darkness that welled up within him and was visible upon him turned his own Order against him, and so it was that he destroyed his own brothers at arms, slaying them with the Soul-Thorne, which grew more powerful with every death and became harder to resist. His evil tainted spirit and the destruction of his own kind brought down the wrath of the god the Ivory Hand worshipped.

The God Pelor's rage was not without just cause, and when he came before Hadriel the man cast himself down in great shame, knowing that his weakness would be his end. Yet Pelor could not outright destroy the soul of a man such as this, no his fate was much worse. A seeming mmortality was placed upon Hadriel, and his spirit hardened, so that he may resist some of the sway of the Soul-Thorne and live with its incessant desire for blood and souls for the rest of his miserable existance. So it was that Hadriel began to wander the lands of Avarill, a man outcast by the light and unable to be embraced by the dark. So has he focused his attentions upon following the teachings of his fallen Order, to quench evil from the world, or find himself cast into oblivion trying.

Though many would consider the fallen Paladin to be immortal, it would be unfair to catagorize him as such, for there is a limit on his life. Without the utilization of the Soul-Thorne Hadriel is incapable of sustaining his strength, let alone his life. When Pelor cursed him he made it a guarantee that Hadriel would never be able to fully repent for his sins against the Order. In order to not wither away and die he must constantly seek out battle, for when he is without conflict his body withers into that of a man, apparently in his eighties, who appears to be rather senile, babbling on about the Order of the Ivory Hand, and how he longs for the days with his brothers at arms.

Should he go for any extended duration without finding himself embroiled in battle his body will begin to further age, though the husk will remain the same in appearance, but when the Soul-Thorne awakens his body will have aged proportionate to the time he was away from conflict.

Character' s Abilities:

A master at Melee combat Hadriel's skills have come from nearly four centuries of training. He is comfortable with many other military skills as well, archery, horsemanship and hand-to-hand combat some of the most noteable. While not an ability he controls his body is able to rapidly heal itself, far faster than most mortals could ever concieve of healing, even with the aid of simple healing spells.

Familiar:

Tibicena, a demon with body of great wild dogs with red eyes, covered by long and black wool. This otherworldly beast, the size of a respectable horse, was one of the evil entities drawn to Hadriel, and despite its utterly horrific nature Hadriel did not destroy it, but instead found a manner in which to tame the beast, creating somewhat of a mount for himself. While the creature may be fearsome and evil by all appearances it, combined with the raw power flowing through Hadriel has found a way of making itself less obvious, transforming itself into what would appear to be no more than some dark, shaggy wolf, standing near hip high, though its eyes still burn crimson, especially in the dark. The Tibicena is increadibly swift, allowing it to keep up with a mounted rider with increadible ease, and it's heavy coat of wool-like hair serves as a natural light armor, able to deflect or at least slow some indirect attacks.