Dristler The Dead

[*Mezzy]

Basic Information
Name: Dristler
Aliases: Drifter, The Dead, Dustie
Gender: Male
Race: Khayal
Age: Numbers
Profession: Shadowcaster. Shadowsmith/Shadowcrafter (enchanter)
Languages: Planar trade common
Accent: At times, yes

Physical Information
Height: Avrage
Weight: Like a feather
Body build: Skinny, agile
Skin type: Not visable
Hair style: Not visable
Scars: Not visable
Tattoos: Not visable
Colouring:

[b]Hair:[/b] Not visable [b]Eyes:[/b] Appear empty, naught but tunnels into the darkest night [b]Skin:[/b] Grey-ish [/li]

Mental Information
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Philosophy: Dustman philosophy
Deity/Beliefs: Erebus - First there was the nothing, the sleeping Power. From it sprung the illusion of light, and life.
Personality:
Cautious
Secretive
Additional Information
Gear: Appears to wear just rags
Jewelry: What is of jewlery appears like nothing fancy
Habbits/hobbies: Drifting
General Health: Appears healthy, mostly.
Favorite Drink: Wine
Weaknesses: Nothing known

[*Mezzy]

Collector of the Lexicon


"Truenames.. Truenames.. Truenames.."

The voice a quiet one. Sounding more like winds lost within deep tunnels as empty black tunnels of eyes scans the pages of an old dusty tome. A finger covered in old rags barely touched the surface of the anchient writings in fear it would scramble to nothing but dust, if not careful.

"So plainly hidden. . . The smallest of letters. . . The largest of letters. . . The engravings. . . The symbolisms found in a single phrase. . . Truespeak..."

Besides the open old tome the genie wrote down that which was deciphered. That which would become Truespeak

[*Mezzy]

It was a radiant time on the Plane of what came first of all. The grand City of Onyx was not really seen, but there was much occuring, still. Hopeless eyes, which could not penetrate even the night on the realms of lies, would never know of the conspiracies occuring during Bloodbaths in utter darkness.

[*Mezzy]

It was silent when the genie of darkness worked. The shadows spoke, but not to the common ears. From the shadowstuffs found all around the genie crafted trinklets from powers of mystery and truth. A simple trick, really, when those in light mimics that which was first, the nothingness of darkness, to craft their trinklets. It was just to speak the Truth, and from nothingness came the original craft from the darkness.
For such was the Genies' power. Such is the power when using Truthspeak.

"This ring was always there. Where it was all this time you will never know, nor understand. For where it has always been, your eyes would only see the broken shape of a ring. But here, in the false sight under light and blinding colours, it is round and beautiful, indeed. Consider my words of wisdom. For in Death, which you are, my words ring truths no life can ever claim to hold"


The Genie gave its customer a lesson along with its craft. Perhaps also recruiting its customer to join the Dead. A simple ring. Grey in tone. It refelcted no light, and cold to touch. But beautiful, indeed it was, and powerful. Just the way the deluded minds like and love their things. For the Truth is simple. The living do love the dead things around. More so than any life around.

[*Mezzy]

It was interesting times. The age of Despair was becomming as the Shadow Genie began to assemble his Shadows. Troughout the Ring they spread unseen. Each and every shadow became his eyes and ears. The Shadow Broker made his first big move upon the Cage. Now it was time to sit back and wait for it to grow deep and strong roots.