[Edgar Blacke]

Discord Id -
Lordt
#6587.
Character Name -
Edgar Blacke
Character Race & Sub-Race-
Human
Alternate Graphic
N/A
Character Description -
A tall, fairly muscular man, with pale skin and long, dark hair. Piercing blue eyes and intolerance to bright light find him seeking shadows and candlelight more often than not. A weakness for good, red wine and a hunger for rare treasure and jewels.
Character Kingdom -
Kraestret
Special Role-play Ability-
Extraordinarily lucky just when he needs it, and sometime, even when he doesn’t. Like the World spins with him, and at no extra cost…
Previous World
A world of grey and cheap coin. A world of rain and shallow hearts. A world where nightmares seem corporeal and hope only an illusion…
Backstory -

in a place of discordant nightmare the hunched silhouette of a man could be seen within the corner of a damp, stone room; a cell, if you will.

The door.

Dishevelled and broken, a once handsome figure with a knot of dark, matted hair, rank with lice, cast eyes up for the first time in well over far too long.

Clad in torn leather and sporting an unkempt beard of moss and ashes, he remained in the filth that adorned his home of late, but granted himself a look at what was to come.

Gaping pupils withdrew to pinpricks as light from the hallway streamed in like so much fallout.

Footsteps made their way towards him, harsh as tin pans after a hard night of debauchery and gross consumption of ale.

Those were the days.

Rudely awakened from his reverie by the reluctant sound of iron against iron, it could only mean one thing.

He lowered his gaze.

Torchlight ebbed and flowed like a sorry dance, and the voice that accompanied the spectacle was not expected, yet not unknown.

“Edgar, how do you fare?”

There was a sad, noble quality to those words.

“Same old day, same old night”, he replied.

It had been some time since he had last spoken and the words caught in his throat like crushed leaves generously dipped in thick honey.

“Look at me, Edgar”

Obliging, his eyes adjusted just enough make out the shape of a man. There was familiarity there. There was understanding.

But that moment went by.

The visitor regarded the surroundings with open disdain.

“Things have not gone as planned, I see”

He held the light up a little further, checking for signs of injury or pallor on the other, though his results held little encouragement.

Edgar lowered his head once again.

“Look at me”, he whispered, more harshly this time, holding the torch at bay.“I can dowse this torch if you cannot bare it, though I dare say things are dark enough for you right now”

A pale gaze complied with the request, accompanied by a morose comment devoid of hope.

“To heal these eyes is tomorrows cause, for today is all so black”

A pause filled the silence as the prisoner swallowed to moisten his parched lips before continuing.

“And another thing I think you should know...” He looked around, mole eyed, as if seeking something. “I won’t be coming back”.

The man reached out his own canteen, half full as it was, and Edgar drank deeply.

At length, he handed the canteen back, empty.

“As I await my judgement, I stand alone, slave to a distant power. My wish that I could taste life is all that remains” He held out his arms pitifully, knowing the result before it even came to bare. “Unleash these chains”

The figure stood silent.

As though bargaining with some unknown force in the aether, Edgar looked around once again. “I sent my soul to you in pieces. Will you hold them for me?”

The figuremoved up against the bars of the cell and gently crouched so that they could meet face to face and at a level gaze. “Edgar, with whom do you speak?”

At that, Edgar sighed.

There was a noise in the distance that faded away after a second’s tension.

Driven by fear, expecting something, the familiar stranger looked about him. Thinking thatEdgar had been turned mad within hisforsaken confines he became angered.

“Madness, Edgar, can’t you hear yourself!? Madness!” The words echoed violently down the hall off every brick and every flagstone, effectively all but ending their time together.

“Call it what you will”, Edgar responded meekly.

Then, just as quickly, that same anger meltedinto the slow tears of resignation.

Footsteps in the distance approached.

“Weep not for me. Die not for me. Save yourself, my friend. But don’t look back....”

The man shook his lowered head. “Steeped in pain, your history, when will they forgive you?”

Once again, Edgar’s head hung as though his fragile neck could no longer be willed to support it. His lips barely parted as he spoke through his ragged, brittle beard.

“There’s no luck left in the world anymore. Riven from my deity, you never showed me how to believe”

“Edgar, you have it wrong. There is no…”

Voices became audible.

The torch guttered and waned as a draft crept through. Scant moments were left;all too little, all too late.

And as the man looked back one last time, the failing light limned what was left of his friend. There Edgar sat hunched, seeking something, yet finding nothing.

And then the book fell from his hands, its worn leather promising much as the visitor carefully reached out to take up the loosely bound pages. But leafing through did nothing to lift his spirits. 

“Barely sane; your memories. Will they still know you?”

The door.

The man looked over his shoulder, clutching the tome to his chest like a long-lost lover.

“Edgar, what did you do...?”