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Duncan Darkwood

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About Duncan Darkwood

  • Birthday 12/07/1996

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    DarthDuncan
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    youtube.com/TheDarthDuncan

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    Duncan Darkwood

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  1. Shall I tell you a story? The story of a man? The story of Duncan Darkwood. I have to warn you, it isn’t a happy story. Chapter 1: Childhood I was born in Abresi, a city in the Holy Oren Empire. Born into the Darkwood family made everyone expect me to become a soldier, a soldier like my father, but I never truly understood soldiering. My mom I have never known, my dad used to tell me that she died at young age, within a year after I was born. My father raised me, well, he raised me until I was ten years old. We had a quiet life, nothing special, but the day he left me, is the day my life changed. It was already getting dark. My dad wanted to take me to Felsen. It was my first time, the first time my dad took me somewhere else than the woods outside Abresi. We sat in the wagon, just the two of us and the dwarf that took us there. After a couple of hours the wagon stopped. I heard the dwarf say that we were to be in the wagon. It was all quiet, quiet until the scream of the dwarf. My father rushed out, but didn’t get far. Just outside the wagon stood an elf, a high elf to be exact. He had a hood over his head, but it didn’t conceal his face, a face that I would never forget, a face that would haunt me in my dreams. The elf grabbed my father, turned him around to face me. “Run, Duncan, run,” is all he said to me before the elf slit his throat. My father’s blood spat all over me as his lifeless body fell to the ground. I knew what I had to do. I ran, I ran for the woods, ran away from everything. I was glad for the things my father thought me. He taught me how to hunt, he taught me how to survive in the woods, but he didn’t teach me how to handle the death of a beloved one. I grieved for weeks at an end, but I managed to pull myself together. I returned to the wagon and noticed that the entire place was robbed. The wagon itself was gone, the dwarf lied dead on the ground, stripped of any personal belonging, and my father was tossed away like a piece of garbage. Everything stolen from him. I just lied there at the edge of the road naked, throat slit and his dead eyes staring at me. From that moment forth I promised myself to never trust a high elf ever again and take the life of the murderer myself. I followed the road back to Abresi. I have been away for a couple of months and when I came back I saw that my old house was sold. They assumed we died and now someone else lived there. Luckily for me, an old friend saw me, and recognized me. He brought me home, gave me food and shelter, and in return I provided food. I hunted in the woods, sometimes for more than weeks in one go to get us some meat to eat. I learned how to use a bow rather good and how to kill like a professional. At the age of sixteen I left Abresi, I left that home in search of my father’s killers. I lived on the roads, trying to find the elf that killed him. I killed a few, thinking they were the right person, but when I came closer to the body I noticed that it wasn’t. After nearly a year of wandering the roads, I came across a dwarf. His name was Wolfos Ironaxe and he lived in a dwarven city with a name I cannot remember. He offered to help me, train me in a few things. I remember when he first brought me into the city. A dark, underground city, illuminated by torches and lava. It was both intimidating and majestic. It was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. At entrance we first entered the market area, going through here we entered the resident area. Houses carved out of the wall, and in the middle of the area was a big hole that reached into the depths of this world. He brought me into his home, a rather small house. For two years he taught me how to create weapons, so I could make my own when I need to. Chapter 2: The rebirth After those two years Wolfos came in trouble with some kind of cleric, or wizard, he might even been a necromancer, we didn't know. I tracked him down and once we knew where he was, we went for him. He lived somewhere in the wild, talking to the dead and looking into the netherworld. We saw him and crept closer. Ready to kill I made y bow ready to fire, but he turned around and looks me dead in the eye. What happened after this I don’t know. Everything went black for me and when I woke up the entire world had changed. I was stripped of all my belongings; I had nothing left but my clothes. I came across some monks, they gave me some money and bread so I would survive, but I didn’t know where to go, or where I was. They told me to follow a road, and after a week of walking I stumbled upon a ruin. A city abandoned, so quiet that I decided to search for food and shelter. I stayed there for a couple of days until I decided to move, to continue to follow the road. A day later I saw a grand city, half in ruins, but populated. I went into the city and quickly learned that it was full of criminals. The guards aren’t with enough to handle it and within a few hours I was a witness of murder. I saw how a bandit killed someone in his home, and then how the guard had to kill the murderer. Then they went for me. They drove me into a corner, but they didn’t attack. “What’s with your bloodshed eyes?” the guard asked. I was confused. “Bloodshed eyes?” “Yes, bloodshed eyes. Your eyes are as red as the blood on my blade,” the guard said. “I don’t know what you mean,” I said confused, “My eyes are blue, not red.” “They are red,” the guard said, “better watch out with those eyes, in these times you can get killed for it.” Then, a man jumped in between us. “Guard, I’ll handle this,” he said as he gestured me to follow him. He took me to some place remote, where no-one could hear us. “I can give you a place to live,” he said. I was confused, why would he help me. “You see, I am not a man of the law. And by the looks of it, neither are you.” This was true. I killed, I stole, and I didn’t give a damn about others that I don’t call my friend. “Where do you live?” I asked him. “On an island near Salvus. Most of it is being constructed now, but soon we will have enough residents to begin our own little state,” he said with determination. I gladly accepted and followed him to the island. There he told me that his name was Daekra ‘Frost’ Solli’gra, or Lord Daekra ‘Frost’ Solli’gra, as it is now. I also met his long-lost brother, Egamir ‘Ironhelm” Solli’gra, Daekra’s lady Aria d’lamor and a friend of his Elijah. Now I am loyal to Daekra only. My work? I help Daekra in any way possible. As for the rest, the only thing you should know is that I provide certain services for certain people in need. Chapter 3: The demon “Who am I?” “Where am I?” “My head is pounding.” I look around me but only see darkness, then a memory flashes through me. “I remember… It’s the abyss, the spiritual plain.” I stand up from the dusty ground and look around me. “Who does it look so dark and empty?” I started to walk around. Slowly, I see something before me, like an vision. “What is this? The living world?” A pain shoots through my head. I grab my head and fall to my knees. “What is this pain!? Why does it hurt so much?” Another memory flashes through my head. “I…. I was a watcher… I watched the world of the living… Studied it…” The pain starts to get more intense, and I, as if I can’t handle it anymore, scream. I fall forwards, stretching one arm before me stopped me from falling on my face, the other still holds my head. “The world of the living… What did they do? Crusades? They killed one another for their believes.” I open my eyes and see my arm and hand in front of me. “Why is my skin black… why does it look like some thick smoke?” I let myself fall to my side, curling up in some kind of ball, trying to stop the pain in my head. “I’m… I’m a spirit. A daemon the living called me… The root of evil.” The pain gets more intense again, like it comes in pulses, pulses that get stronger over time. “Why? What is going on? I don’t understand.” I keep lying there. No one around me, nowhere to go. It’s just me, and no one else. It’s so silent. “Daemon, state your name!” a voice broke through the silent. I look up, searching for the origin, but there is no one to be found. “Daemon, who are you?” the voice asks again. It seems like it is coming from all around me, as if it is everywhere, or is it just in my head? “Who are you? Where are you?” I yell into the empty plains. “My name does not concern you, but your misery does concern me,” the voice answers. “My misery? What are you talking about?” I say as I start to get angry, “who are you to think you can say such things!” “I’m your only chance on freedom, your only chance to stop what you hate the most.” I’m confused. What I hate the most? This doesn’t make any sense. “Your hate against religions. I can help you stop it,” the voice echoes through my head. The pain in my head returns, bringing me to my knees once again. I start to remember again. “Religions… The crusades… I… I remember. The crusades, killing one another for their believes. Killing innocent people, and justifying it… They scar the landscape… I hate it. I hate what they do. It can’t be justified, it has to stop or there will be no one left…,” I say to myself as I stand up again, “I remember. I remember watching the world of the living for decades at an end. I remember how my hate grew against it.” “Good, good,” the voice says, “now, I offer you a possibility to act.” I’m still confused. Why would someone help a daemon? “Why help me, A daemon?” “Because I also can use your help. I’ve been watching you for a long time now, and I need you.” This starts to get interesting. “What is it you want?” I ask the voice. An entity forms before me, an entity made out of smoke, just like me, but then white. It looks like one of those humans, one with a large beard and long robes. His eyes seem black. “I’ll open a rift, a way into the world of the living,” the voice spoke very clearly, “I need you to manifest yourself into the body of someone.” “And what happens afterwards?” I asked the human, making sure I wouldn’t be soul bound to him. “Nothing,” the voice answered, “after that you’re free to go. Free to go wherever you want, do whatever you want. I don’t care.” I still didn’t completely trust him. “Why would I help a human?” “Because I offer you freedom in return for one simple thing.” This offer is very appealing. If it’s true, I would take the chance. “I accept your offer,” I say. The human brings his hands together, creating an echoing sound. “Then the deal has been made. Wait here, a rift shall open up soon. The human’s entity fades away before my eyes. I hold my hand in front of me, looking at my dark, long fingers. “Why can’t I remember my name?” I have a lot of questions, and not a lot of answers, but I remember my hatred, and I shall make it my quest. I lie down on the ground again. “I hope this is worth it.” A bright light wakes me up. Looking up from the ground I see the entity again. “It’s time,” it says as he opens a rift underneath him. I stand up, walk towards the rift and look through it. There I see two persons. One dwarf, long bearded and with an axe in his hand. The other is a human. He has blue eyes, a Mohawk as haircut, black robes and carries a large knife. “Which of the two am I supposed to take care of?” I ask the entity. “Take down the human, and the dwarf will follow.” I look down again, towards the human. I study him for a moment before I jump down, towards him. I open my eyes, and the only thing I see is black, black all around me. It’s completely empty, but I am not alone. I can feel it. “Who’s here?” a voice asks. It’s a different voice then from the human who brought me here. “Who are you?” I yell into nothingness, “show yourself.” Underneath my feet, grass starts to grow. Around me, trees start to appear. Animals come from behind trees, giving life to this empty place. The sky turns from black to blue. “What is this magic? What are you doing?” “This is no magic,” the voice says again, “this is called the power of the mind.” He doesn’t make any sense. How could he forge an entire world with his mind only, and make it real. “You see,” the voice continues, “we are now inside my mind. I used to visit this place a lot, learned how to control it, how to forge it, but now you’re here, it seems that we’re stuck.” “So we are inside you mind? Then why won’t you show yourself?” I say. “Just turn around and you’ll see me.” I turn around in a quick spin, almost losing my balance at the sight of a few hundred meters drop. I look around and see that I am standing at the top of a building, near the edge of the roof. I look forwards and see there, about fifty meters away from me, a man standing at the edge of another roof. It’s the human again, the one I saw through the rift. “Welcome to my mind,” he says, “why are you here?” I look at him a little confused. How is he not afraid of me? How can a simple human not fear me, a daemon? I see that the human begins to form a small smile in the corner of his mouth as he lets himself fall to over the edge of the building. I look over the edge down, but notice that he is nowhere to be seen, like he disappeared. Then, a voice from behind me says: “Because this is my mind.” It somehow scared me and I jumped forward, away from the voice and as I look behind me, I notice that this time we are inside a throne room, and I’m not falling to my death. I see the human standing there, in the middle of the room, and I stand before him. “You know where this is?” the human asks. I look around, but can’t seem to recognize it. “This is the throne room of Abresi,” the human says, “this is where I got thrown away like trash after asking for my father’s belongings after he got killed. “Why would I return the belongings of that deserter, Marcus Darkwood, to his son?” a voice said from behind me. I turn around and see that the throne room is filled with guards, a king and a child. The king stands before his throne as the child kneels before him, almost begging for what belongs to him. “My father is not a deserter,” the child says, almost crying, “He was an honest man who fought for his king. Now he is killed on the roads and you won’t even give me his belongings.” “Take him away,” the kings says as he motions with his hand that the child must leave, “I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Two guards move from the group and grab the child each by one arm, and drag him away. The child kicks and screams a bit, but it’s not too much for the guards to handle. “What is happening here?” I ask as the people fade away from my sight. “My memories,” the human says, “You want to be in my head, so I show you the suffering I’ve had” “So you’re the kid?” The human nods as he turns around. I follow him and notice that we reached a new location again. This time we’re in a wagon, sitting across from a man and the child again. “Daddy, are we there yet?” the child asks. “Not yet, Duncan,” the man says as he pets the kid on his head. The child smiles. “See him,” the human says as he points to the man, “that’s my father.” I look at the man, but notice that his face is quite vague. “I can’t remember his face anymore. This is my last happy memory of him.” I was confused, not understanding what he tried to say with that, but I got my answer rather quickly. The wagon suddenly stopped after the sound of a scream. The door of the wagon is being opened and a high elf stands behind it, his face perfectly visible. He grabs the father by his shoulders and tears him out of the wagon. He lands on the ground, his face and clothing covered in mud. “Where’s the money,” the elf asks. “We don’t have any money on us,” the father answers, shivering with his entire body and voice. The elf straightens up to order the other elves to search the wagon. At that moment the father kicks the elf in his legs and jumps to the wagon. With his head and torso inside, a hand from behind grabs him by his head, and another appears with a knife near his throat. “Run, Duncan, run,” the father says before his throat is slit open, spewing the blood over the child. The child dashes forward, running of into the woods. The human steps out of the wagon, and I follow him. We didn’t chance scenery this time. We were still in his memory, only the objects have been moved. “I stayed in those woods for a few weeks,” the human continues, “I mourned, tried to process what happened, but I never got over it. I still carry my hatred against elves with me, and it won’t fade away.” I stayed quiet, listening to his words knowing that I get an inside sight of this person’s memories, his feelings and emotions. I try to learn as much as possible, so perhaps I can use it against him. The child returned from the forest. His clothes a little ripped and dirty, but the child is alive. He walked over to the bodies, to his fathers and kneels down before it. Tears erupt from his eyes as he closes his father’s. “This is my last memory of my father,” the human says. I nod, but then notice the face of the father. It is very clear. His death looking eyes, his broken has and ripped open throat. It is all perfectly visible. The child stands up and walks away. “What happened after this?” I ask the human. “You’ve already seen that. I lost everything,” he said. He grabbed me by the back of my head and pushed my down into the ground, but instead of hitting the ground, I stood back up again and stand in the middle of a living room. There is a women, a man, and three children. One of them is Duncan. “An old friend of mine told his mom what happened. Shortly after they took me into the house,” Duncan said. Behind me a door opened and a woman of about sixteen years of age walked in, with a man of about the same age behind her. The man looked a bit like Duncan, but the woman I did not recognize. “I fell in love with the daughter of this family,” the human said, “I taught her hunting, survival, and climbing. She taught me how to love, smile and how to have joy in my life again.” “What’s her name?” I ask him. “Zatoxia,” he said as tears form in his eyes, “I can still feel her soft skin on my hands, her lips on mine and her soft red hair between my fingers.” “What happened?” I ask him. “Turn around.” I turn around and see the family in a fight. They are screaming and yelling about everything and nothing. The door opens, Duncan walks in the room and everything is quiet. Zatoxia walks in after him. They seem sad. The mother walks up to them. “You demon!” she says with anger, fear, and sadness in her voice, “How could you let this happen? How could you let little Marc die?” Duncan just puts his bow against the wall and walks past the people, upstairs to his room. Zatoxia sighs and walks after him. I see the human turn around and I follow him, noticing that I enter a room, with Duncan sitting on a bed. He seems sad, but no tears will roll over his cheeks. “The youngest son of the family died,” the human said to me, “I had to bring him on one of our hunting trips, but it went wrong.” “How,” I ask. “We climbed a tree to wait there for some deer to arrive, but the little one slipped and fell down, breaking his neck. He died at the spot.” “And they blamed you?” “Just watch.” The door of the room opened and Zatoxia walked in. She sat down next to Duncan and swings her arm around him. “It’s not your fault,” Zatoxia says to Duncan, “There is no way to prevent this from happening.” “But your mother does accuse me,” Duncan says, nearly crying now, “she blames me for your brother’s death.” Zatoxia grabs Duncan softly by his chin, moving his face towards her’s and says: “But I don’t,” and she kisses him on the lips. The human holds his hands before my eyes, and as he takes them away we are outside. It’s inside a city, just outside a house. “You don’t have to see what happened after that, but you might want to see this,” the human said. The door of the house in front of us opened and Duncan walks through it, backpack fully loaded for a long trip, lots of arrows and his bow. “Where are you going?” I ask the human, but he doesn’t say a thing and just motions to watch. Out of the door comes another person running. It’s Zatoxia and she hugs Duncan from behind. “Please,” she says, “please, don’t go.” Tears roll from her eyes like glittering water. Duncan just stands still, showing no emotion in his face, but his eyes are a sea of emotion. “It must have hurt to do this,” I say as I look side-ways to the human. I can see that this memory is very close to his heart, since he is crying at the sight of this. I notice that Duncan has turned around and his hugging Zatoxia, as they kiss each other on the lips. When their kiss has ended, Duncan says: “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I can’t stay here anymore.” “But… Can’t I go with you?” Zatoxia asks. “No, you have to stay here. Stay here with you mom. Take care of her; take care of your family. They need you.” “But I want to come with you,” she says as she hugs him closer. “You can’t, but just wait. I’ll come back for you. I promise,” Duncan says as he grabs her hands to hold them in front of her, “I promise.” I hear the human repeat the words beside me, really softly. I see his tears hit the ground, forming small little puddles on the stone streets. Duncan kisses Zatoxia once again and then lets her go, moving away into the world. I close my eyes for a second, but when I open them I see that we’re back into the darkness again. “What I just showed you was the hardest thing I did in my life,” Duncan said as he appeared behind me, “that promise is a promise I won’t break. Ever. I will find her again.” I look at him, still seeing the remains of tears in his eyes. “What did you do afterwards?” I ask him. “Not much. I travelled, met a dwarf, learned how to blacksmith. After that we came into a fight with an old man, and now we’re here. So I ask you once again, why are you here?” “To start my quest,” I say. “Bullshit,” the human says, a bit angry, “you are here to manifest. To take over my body as a medium to manipulate the world of the living.” How could he know this. I haven’t told him this. “I can read your mind here,” the human says, “you have no secrets here. I know all about you. Your plans, your hatred, your quest.” “So what about it?” I ask him since he already knows. “I like it, but I won’t let you take my body,” he says as he circles around me. I wonder what he proposes then. “I want you to stay in me, so I can start to for fill your quest,” he says. I wonder how he is planning on doing this, since he can’t possibly remember all this when he wakes up. “How? You won’t remember this anyway.” “When I get the chance to gain power, I will grab it. You only have to reveal yourself when the time is right.” It seems logical, and trustworthy. “Okay. I will,” I say as I point to the human, “now you better regain consciousness, who knows how much time has passed.” The human lets himself fall backwards and I notice him waking up. His surrounding forms around me, as if I am standing next to him, following his every movement. He’s at the monks, and it looks like a lot of time has passed since I entered. A lot of time. Now I just observe. I observe what he does, when he does. From time to time I take over the body, making sure things get done. Mainly when he has to kill, or when he needs to keep someone from killing himself, but mainly I observe. I watch, once again, waiting for the right moment to reveal myself. What? You have some question about him? Let's see what I can answer for you. Basic Information: ((Question? Answer)) What's his name? That would be Duncan Darkwood What's his nickname? He's also known as 'The Demon', people just don't know it's the same guy. And so do you What's his age? Still 21 years of age Does he has a gender? Ofcourse he has! What a stupid question to ask. And for if you want to know, he looks quite male to me What's his race? Even though he has red eyes, he's a human What's his status? What do they mean with this? If he is married or something like that? In that case, he's single Description: How tall is he? He's about 1.80 meters in height, which will be 5'11 in feet How much does he weight? Without armor and weapons, he'll be around 80 kg What's his body type? He's muscular. He's male. How do you expect me to describe his body type? What does his eyes look like? They have to colour of blood, making them red What's his hair colour and haircut? His hair is black with a somewhat short Mohawk haircut What does his skin look like? He's white. Deal with it Does he has any markings or tattoos? He has a tattoo covering his right shoulder and arm, a scar running from his right mouth corner to his jawline and another large scar on his left leg How's his health standing? He's fit and in good health. Except from that demon thing inside him... What is he like? He's quite quiet and observing, speaks politely and is willing to help when asked. He knows what to do at nearly all times, remain calm almost always, but get him angry and hell will break loose Does he carry anything with him? What he carries with him? Some food, his weapons... Wait, why am I even telling this? Just expect to have a problem when you try to rob him Could you give me any further details? Could you ask a more specific question? Life Style: What's his alignment? He's unaligned. What? You think this is stupid? You'll understand when you work for him Does he follow a deity? He lost all fate in the gods Does he follow a religion? Didn't I already answered this question? What is his alliance, nation, and home? He's in the government of the military state Scarthaux, making that both his nation and home What's his job? He's the bureaucrat of Scarthaux, but also the leader o- I never said that last but. For all that you know, he's a bureaucrat, making him a D'raco (which is the highest class in the state) Does he has a special title? Bureaucrat. What? You expected more? This is all you need to know What's his profession? How many times do I need to tell you, he's a Bureaucrat. Stop asking questions Does he has any special skills? He's very proficient in the art of murder, torture, espionage and tracking people down. Damnit! Uhm... I meant to say that he's good at diplomatic things such as keeping the state at peace, trading in goods and such.... Does this man has any flaws? He doesn't have any flaws, except from the fact that he hates elves, especially high elves, can't resist an opportunity to kill and has lost all sense of guilt and remorse Magic: What is his current status? What current status? He has a demon inside him! What's his arch-type? His what? What's his sub-type? I already didn't understand that arch-type belony, so how am I supposed to know what a sub-type is? What's his magical rank? Uhm..... Does he has any weaknesses? Uhm... Women, alcohol and dogs? What are his strengths? Uhm... Can't think of anything that has to do with magic... Can he cast any spells at the moment? None? Weaponry: How does he fight like? Ah, this is more like it. From the shadows we fight, and in plain sight we hide. You won't know where we are 'till the blade has reached it's goal Is he trained in any specific weapons? Short bow, knives, swords, do his hands count as weapons? If so, then also his hands What is his favorite weapon? His favorite knife How good is he at archery? He knows how to use a shortbow, and he knows it quite well. Just expect to get hit by an arrow in the back when you run from a fight Biography: Who are his parents? His mother, Juno Darkwood, he has never known. His father, Marcus Darkwood, got killed by High elves when Duncan was ten years of age Does he has any siblings? He sees his friends Egamir and Daekra as his brothers, but further than that, he has no siblings. Does he has any children? Let him find a fine lady first, before thinking about this nonsense Does he has any extended family? He doesn't has a lady yet, so no extended family as well Does he has a pet? He hasn't have one yet, but he wants a hound Who is this I'm speaking to? Me? I'm just a shadow. That's all you need to know
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