Name: Carnagoth.
Age: 5
Gender: Masculine
Race: Wraith
Birthday: 8/17
Height: Varies. (He usually sits at a comfortable 6'9" wink
Weight: 40 lbs.(his weight entirely consists of his armor and weapons)
Eyes: Red
Hair: N/A
Skin: N/A
Body Tone: N/A


Once there was a young boy with an unusual obsession with the undead. He'd seen it all the time in movies and cartoons he had watched. A powerful wizard would conjure up a thrall or some other sort of zombie to do his bidding. His entire childhood he'd pretend to be a summoner, bringing spirits back to life. He kept his desires a secret from his family and friends because he knew they wouldn't understand. He spent all his allowance on anything that would bring him closer to his dream of becoming a necromancer: Voodoo spell books, exotic trinkets and the sort. In time the boy became a man, and even though he had a future ahead of him he wanted nothing more than to be the necromancer he dreamed of as a child. One day he walked into an old store filled with rare oddities and curiosities. And there he saw it. A black book with red trimming. He could almost hear it call his name. Immediately the young man stepped to the counter and demanded to buy the book. "But you don't even know what it's for!" The shopkeep would explain. "I don't care. I need it!" The man replied. "It...spoke to me." The shopkeep changed his tone, and with an understanding nod took the book out of his casing. The book registered at $2,000 USD, which the man more than happily used his life savings to buy. Finally, he had something that he felt would help him realize his dream. But how exactly will this book help? I guess the only way to really find out is to open it...So he opened the book, careful not to tear any of the pages. He wasn't sure what to expect, the book didn't feel all that powerful. Yet it connected to him in a way he could not understand. He took the time to read some of the spells, practicing at night while everyone else was asleep. After a few months the man was able to summon skeletons and corpses with ease. Satisfied with his results, he dropped out of college, broke up with his fiancee, and traveled to parts unknown without a single explanation to anyone. He didn't even say goodbye to his parents. As far as he was concerned, his life up to this point was one he didn't want to live, and the man essentially "killed himself off" to pursue a new life. A life of death.

He soon found himself in a magical place, filled with witches, ninjas, demons, dragons and demon dragons. It was his dream come true. The best part was there wasn't another necromancer to be seen for miles. He'd have the entire niche all to himself, and he was rather proud to have such an awesome skill such as necromancy at his disposal. However, this was not meant to be. He'd participate in sanctioned battles held in a Colosseum. showing his discipline in full glory. Though he was very proud of his achievements, the others did not share his enthusiasm. They called his craft "weak" and "pale." He didn't get why they would be so harsh to him. Then one day another man showed up to declare a challenge. He, too, was a necromancer, and apparently well known throughout the land. He was apparently royalty, too. The young man was eager to show that his necromancy was just as good as the next guy's. He summoned an army of the toughest ghouls he could muster. What happened next was something so horrifying, so dark and twisted that he couldn't describe what it was. It just...happened. He lost humiliatingly, the stranger and several spectators laughed at him. And they continued to laugh months after the challenge. Calling him names and deterring him every chance they could. He wanted help to improve himself but all he got was namecalling and shame. He never felt so low, all he wanted was to achieve his dream but instead he was cursed to a life of being compared to other people and being a constant target for bullying and scorn. He couldn't take it anymore. He lit some candles, opened his book, grabbed a rope and hanged himself over his bed. He knew nobody would miss him. It had been two whole months before his corpse was even found. But he had unknowingly performed the rites to a certain spell, that would allow his conscience mind to manifest and gain sentience in a physical form. Since his heart was filled with agony and anguish, he took on the form of Vengeance. Giving himself the name "Carnagoth" (because he thought it sounded cool) This new spectral being became born once again, for the first time. He maintains the thoughts and feelings of his former vessel, but has an entirely different, non mortal form. The seeds of his existence have been sewn, and he desires to reap revenge.


Royalty of any kind