Skurai, The Cursed Swordsman

[Demondaze 0]

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Player Information

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Name (or alias): Daze

Username: Demondaze

E-mail Address: darksundirector@yahoo.com

 

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Character Information

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-Name: Skurai

-Gender: Male

 

 

-Physical Description: Nobody knows what the cold, dispassionate Skurai really looks like under his mask, but rumors abound. Some say he's horribly scarred, while others say he's hauntingly beautiful. There are those who insist that he is a normal human, while still others would have it that there is no face at all beneath that mask, just an ebony mist. All that is known about him is that he is of average height, with a more or less average build and a mane of shaggy, golden blonde hair.

 

-Personality: Cold and vicious, Skurai has been seen at some of the worst massacres in the world. They say that during the Island Liberation Wars you would see him at every battle, gleefully slaughtering anyone who drew too close. Few have ever come close enough to this dark, bloody figure to learn the truth, but those who do are often shocked to find that he doesn't seem mad at all. Odd, yes. A touch forgetful and a touch mounstrous, but he's amiable enough, right up to the point where he tells you that his sword wants you dead.

 

-Background and History: Not much is known about Skurai before he became known as the Cursed Swordsman. Reports of his presence on the feild of battle date back to the days of Riou and the Agorianis Empire, though whether it was the same man or not remains a mystery. It is commonly held among the more skeptical historians that Skurai chooses an apprentice before he dies, and passes on the mask and blade that made the name famous. However, like most things surrounding the Cursed Swordsman, it is little more than a mystery.

 

-Weapons: The Demon Blade Feazoukizo is a mysterious sword long known to strike fear in the hearts of innocent villagers and hardened warriors alike. Some call it the "Sword of Villains", others the "Sword of Immortality". Although the details of this legendary sword change while the rumors spread around the world, its nature is unmistakably evil. The evil sword is said to change forms to accommodate its opponent's fighting style and experience. Whenever the sword is bathed in blood, its single eye appears enraptured. It can comand its wielder to commit grotesque crimes in order to consume blood, but its true purpose and intents remain unknown.

 

-Equipment: Skurai wears a suit of dark, leather-like amor. The portions of his body not covered by armor, such as his torso, are clad in a chaotic, unusual array of straps and belts. His form is usually shrouded in a ragged, tattered, deep red cloak. He also wears a mask, and a heavy leather dog-collar.

 

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[Demondaze 0]

The wolves are running again.

I can hear them. They pour through my mind like stagnant blood from the wrists of some dark god. And I can feel the hunger pounding in my veins. It feels like suffocating, and learning to breath, and drowning in the earth, all at once. With every breath it splits my lungs, every pulse burns in my veins. I wish it would end, sometimes. But, then, in the quiet moments, I find myself missing the braying of the wolves.

The voice beneath my skin is whispering again. Telling me where to go, what to do. Who to kill. It always tells me who to kill.

There are times when I wonder...

But that doesn't matter now. The wolves are running again, and it's almost time to hunt.

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Elizabeth ran ahead of her nanny, quickly darting behind an old, crumbling wall once she was out of sight. She was supposed to be out for an afternoon walk, but today she wanted to explore. Besides, there was something she needed to do, and she couldn't do it with her nanny tagging along. After all, she was nearly fifteen, and it was her castle anyway, wasn't it? What could possibly happen?

She waited until the portly woman had shuffled past, calling out Elizabeth's name in her usual, tired voice, and then jumped up from her hiding place. She stepped quickly through the ruins of the old gaurdhouse, stopping only once to pick a few wild flowers from a bush on her way.

It wasn't long before she found what - or, rather, who - she had been looking for. It was a man several years older than she, at least as far as age is determinable behind the mask he wore. He was tall, and thin, with golden blonde, backward swept hair and cool, glittering red eyes. He was shrouded in a ragged, dirty red cloak, the volumous cowl hanging loose across his back.

He stood there in exactly the same spot she had seen him stand for two days, simply staring at the castle as if entranced. Elizabeth watched him for a moment, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"What are you looking at?" she asked innocently.

When he didn't answer, she shrugged her slim shoulder and said, "I live there you know. In the castle? Daddy says that since we live in a castle I'm a princess. Or, at least, he used to."

"Where do you live?" She asked when her previous revelation failed to prodouce a reaction.

"Are you from the village?" Still the masked man hadn't even glanced her way. She tried a diffrent tactic.

"You shouldn't ignore people. It's rude."

With that, the man did turn to her. His burning eyes bored into hers; bored through hers, it seemed. Softly, in a cold clear voice, he said, "And you shouldn't talk to strangers. It's dangerous."

Elizabeth sat down, smoothing out her skirt as she did so. "You don't seem all that dangerous.", She countered.

"Neither does a wolf, until it bites." he offered, "I could be a boogeyman and you would have no way to know."

"There's no such thing as boogeymen. Besides, you don't look like much of one anyway."

"Don't I?" he asked, indicating his mask with a tilt of his head. It was shaped like a human face, but with all the features smoothed over. There was no definition to the eyes, the nose, the mouth. Where lips should have gone, there were stitches, as though someone had gone to great pains to insure the mask's silence. The entire thing was white, with jagged, swirling veins of red throughout. The end result was decidedly ghoulish.

Elizabeth shuddered, "Why do you wear a mask anyway?"

"Why do you wear clothes?"

She giggled, "So nobody sees me naked, silly!"

His stare seemed to indicate that his answer was just as self-evident.

"You're weird." she said, cocking her head to the side.

"Am I weird? And what if you are just imagining me right now? You would be talking to yourself. Wouldn't that make you the weird one?"

Elizabeth giggled again, shaking her head. "You are weird! But I like you." She said as though she had just awarded him the world's highest honor. "What is your name?"

He looked at her for a moment, and then breathed "Skurai."

"Skurai..." the girl repeated, chewing on he lip thoughtfully. After a moment she seemed to come to a descision. "Would you like a flower, Skurai."

He paused, and then stretched out one black gauntleted hand to take the small, purple flower she held out to him.

"I don't know what kind it is, though." she said as the black leather clad hand vanished back into the ragged cloak.

"Lilac."

Elizabeth opned her mouth to say something in response, but whatever it was, it was cut short. At just that moment, her nanny had rounded the corner and spotted her charge sitting in the grass.

"There you are, young lady! Whatever were you thinking, running off like that? And what are you doing back here anyhow? You know these old ruins are off limits!"

"I was just talking to..." when she turned to indicate Skurai, she found herself pointing at an empty patch of dirt.

"To who, dear?" the nanny asked, looking around, "Never mind. We've got to get you inside and cleaned up for dinner."

"But nanny..."

"No buts, little miss. Get you gone back up to that castle. Hurry now, we mustn't be late." she said as she shooed Elizabeth back the way they had come. She hesitated then, giving the old ruin one last glance.

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Skurai watched them go from the crumbling top of a long-ignored tower. The girl had been interesting enough, for a child. She had seen him, for one thing. That in itself was an accomplishment. Not many people did anymore. It was becoming easier and easier to simply blend in with the shadows these days.

As the sun set in the distance, he idly twirled a sprig of lilac between his thumb and fore-finger. "The time draws near. Soon, we hunt."

Soon we feed...

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Flames danced in the great hearth, bathing the dinning hall and it's occupant in shadows. The dark wood of the furnishings and walls seemed to absorb the light. The small, flickering candles did little to dispell the air of darkness hanging over the room. The silence was broken only by the scraping of forks across plates and the ocassional clink of goblets.

Elizabeth wore her best gown, all violet silk and black lace. Her dark red hair was tied up on either side of her pretty face, falling over her shoulders in twin masses of curls and ringletts. Her father had been gone for weeks, and this was the first dinner since his return. She wanted to look her best for her father, but he was oddly quiet and distracted on this night.

"How was your trip, daddy?" she asked sweetly.

"Hmmm? Fine, fine." he replied, not bothering to look up from the papers he had been reading.

Elizabeth, slightly put-off by his lack of attention, leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I met someone today." she said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"Did you?"

"Yes. He was a weird man, with a scary mask. He wore a really tattered red cloak and this strange black armor. He didn't talk much, but he kept staring at the castle..." Elizabeth began, but her father quickly cut her off. He leapt up from his chair and rushed over to her side.

Roughly grabbing her arm and jerkng her around, he demanded to know, "What was his name, Elizabeth?"

The young girl cried out, "You're hurting me, daddy!"

The lord didn't seem to hear her, or care. He shook her again, more violently this time. "What was his name!"

"Skurai!" She cried out, and the door flew in, it's hinges ripped from their stone moorings as casually as one might break a twig. Through the wreckage of the door stepped a pair of the castle gaurds - backward. It was not clear what they were backing away from, but it was obvious they were both terrified.

"N... No... NO!" one of them shouted, dropping his sword and turning to run. When he did, however, a white blade pushed through the back of his armor and burst throgh his chest. It ignored the breast-plate he wore as though it were no thicker than a breath and no more sturdy.

The blood sprayed out from the wound in a gush at first, but slowed to a stream when the sword slid back out. As his body fell, Skurai stepped into the light. His eyes caught on Elizabeth's terrified face, and he hesitated. The sword he held in his hand was ivory white, long and heavy. It was obviously intended to be held in two hands, as was evidenced by the incredibly long blade. He couldn't have been wearing it under his cloak. There was no way.

As Skurai lingered on the girl, the second gaurd shouted out, "You bastard!", and thrust his blade into Skurai's thin chest. The mask turned to regard the swordsman quite calmly, no hint of fear at all in his cold eyes.

"Die." He suggested, swinging the blade with amazing control and strength, considering the close quarters they stood in.

It didn't take long for the man's torso to fall away from his legs.

"He he he..." Elizabeth jerked in horror, at the sound of her father's chuckling. He couldn't possibly find this funny!

"So you've found me, have you, Skurai?" It was her father's voice, but at the same time it wasn't. It was lower, darker. More like Skurai's than the kind, loving man she had known her whole life.

"Yes. I think I have." The dark swordsman said, turning to regard the lord of the castle.

"And what do you intend to do now, Demon Knight?"

Skurai shrugged casually, planting the tip of his blade into the stone floor and leaning on it like a walking stick. "Feed you to my sword."

As he spoke, a single eye slowly opened up just above the hilt. It was blood-shot and sickly, red in color, with a snake-like pupil. It's gaze was dark and malevolant, sliding across the two nobles slowly, as if savoring their taste from afar.

"...The sword!" Elizabeth gasped.

 

...To be continued