Wigraf: The Cursed

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Wigraf: The Cursed Empty Wigraf: The Cursed

Post  Wigraf on Sat Sep 15, 2012 7:28 pm

Name: Wigraf
Age: 1034 Years Old
Height: 5'11''
Affinity: Evil

1. Gargoyle Attributes: The user has the physical attributes of a gargoyle. Although this skill is passive, it grows as the user's other skills grow as well. While all other skills are Novice or Undiscovered the user may bear arbitrary traits such as skin or eye color. After the Gargoyle Endurance skill has reached Superior Class, the user gains wings for sustained flight. Also, when the Petrify skill has reached Superior Class the user gains a prehensile tail. Unfortunately, gargoyles cannot swim and have a strict aversion to water that isn't for drinking. - Passive

Wings: Undeveloped
Prehensile Tail: Undeveloped

2. Wall Crawling: The user can cling to any surface and crawl or walk along it. - Passive

3. Gargoyle Endurance: The user has enhanced endurance. At Novice the users skin is slightly tougher than that of a normal human, consider it as strong as a callous; at Alpha the user is immune to small blades and bites, as well as lasting twice as long as a human in battle; at Superior the user becomes fully stab proof, most blunt-force is nullified; at Master the user becomes impervious to non-sniper rounds and small explosions. Although the user is impervious to most damage as this grows, it does not nullify physics, just damage and pain. He or she will still recoil from effects appropriately (i.e.: being thrown by a blast or knocked back by bullets). Finally, this levels in a unique fashion. For each battle that the character survives he or she gains a skill point. - Alpha

4. Gargoyle Strength: The user has the compounded strength of ten men. - Passive

5. Petrify: The user can turn targets into stone upon a single touch. This is a double edged skill, however. As the character uses this skill it builds Petrification Counters (PC's). When the PC limit is reached the user is petrified from over use. Luckily PC's diminish by one point every ten minutes. At Novice the user can petrify non-living targets permanently, each adds one counter, after three, the user is petrified for three minutes; at Alpha the user can petrify living targets for one minute, each living being adds two counters but the cap is now five and the user is petrified for five minutes; At superior the user can petrify living targets for three minutes, the PC cap is now seven, but the user is petrified for ten minutes if reached; at Master the user can petrify living targets for five minutes, the PC cap is now ten, petrifying the user for fifteen minutes if reached. Don't forget, stone can be broken. If a petrified character is broken, he or she will die. - Novice


In the early days of the Catholic church, there was widespread chaos. The church's mission was simple. Spread the word. In some cases, this was as simple as informing the ignorant of the “true” god and allowing them to accept this god as their savior. However, more commonly, the word of god met resistance in the form of other gods. Gods that did not care to share their people's hearts.

Wigraf cared nothing for the Catholic god or the Pagan gods against which he fought. He only lived for battle. Nothing made his blood boil like a good “converting”. The catholic church was merely the vessel which allowed him to get to his next battleground.

The church's influence had spread slowly westward and Wigraf found himself in Germania. The people of the small village had hardly put up a fight, using pitchforks and wood axes to defend their way of life. It didn't matter if they had or hadn't resisted, all of them would have fallen to Wigraf's blade. God, how the screams delighted the soul.

Drenched in blood and smiling all the more for it, Wigraf noticed a small path leading from the village into the surrounding wood. Perhaps there were more souls to be “converted”? Wigraf stalked steadily down the path to find out.

At last he had come to a small clearing, in the middle of was a small fire. Resting near the fire was an old woman, seeming to mutter to herself.

“I came here to free thee of thy ignorance and thy life, hag. Prepare thyself,” proclaimed Wigraf.

Slowly looking up from the fire by which she was resting, the old woman flashed a glare at Wigraf, her eyes seeming to glow a deep red, perhaps from the light of the fire.

“Dost thou not understand thy folly, dog of the church? Thou hast made a message of peace and redemption, however false it may be, into a decree of slaughter and malice. Though, as thou art mistaken in thy aims, but good intentioned, I will merely send you off to your savior.”

With these words, the old woman raised a frail hand, and the flames of the bonfire lept with great speed toward Wigraf and encircled him. Leaving him helpless in the middle as the flames grew in intensity, making him sweat through his armor.

“Foul wretch!” ,screamed Wigraf as he tried to force his way through the flames towards the old woman. Wigraf could not escape though and the cloak and tabard that he wore over his armor started to smoke and smolder as the flames grew in size. Knowing that his doom was near, Wigraf threw down his sword and shield and spread out his arms to welcome his death as he started laughing slowly.

“Old Hag” chuckled Wigraf, “Though mistakest me for a man of honor. The church and its words mean nothing to me.” he spat. “The church was only the vehicle that allowed me to slaughter those too weak to withstand my will. Thou had best knowest what kind of man you are sending on.”

As soon as the last word left Wigraf's mouth, the flames dissipated and Wigraf was overcome by a cold and creeping sensation. Looking to his feet he found that they were stiff and not responding to his will to move. Soon the feeling creapt up to his waist and then his arms. Looking to his hands, he saw that they were scaling over with grey chips of what seemed stone.
“Thy boasting spells thy torment,” called the old woman. Wigraf started and looked into her eyes, which were glowing unnaturally red with burning rage. Thou shalt remain of stone for one thousand years, like the little devils that hang upon the corners of your god's great temples. All that is familiar to you shall vanish and your world will be forgotten with time.” The cold sensation then crept to Wigraf's throat, silencing his cry of terror.

A thousand years later, Wigraf's stone imprisonment has finally relented. The curse has left him with the traits of the Gargoyle to which his curse was based upon. At last, he was free to seek his revenge in this unfamiliar land. His tormentor was surely of unnatural origin, and she must still live. If that weren't enough to move Wigraf, he noticed that his hands were dry and lacked the hue of his favorite color...


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