Character name: Lelia Ashwright
Class: Rogue
Why do you want to join the Cult?: I just love the darkness of the Forsaken, and what better place to wallow in the sheer awfulness of being a living corpse than in this Guild.
How did you come to learn about the Cult: Blizzard forum mainly, though I have heard a few good things about you lads and lasses on the server
Anything else you'd like us to know? Well, i am a grown man of 29 and so have some committments in the real world. What with bills to be paid and all, so I can't gurantee I can be the same time each week due to the sheer glory that is shift work. The only other thing I can think off is my IC intro is one I've already posted on the roleplay forums, so if thats not acceptable, I'll knock something else up for you. Cheers for reading
The important bit:
"Father. Wake up, Father. Ah, there you are. Hush. don't struggle. The ropes are quite tight, you'll only end up hurting yourself. Dawn's nearly upon us and we don't have a lot of time left. We've a lot to talk about tonight
Do you not recognise me? It's me, your little girl, your Princess. It's me. It's Lelia. I know I don't look my best but I must admit, I'm a little disappointed you didn't recognise me. Remember when I was a little girl. You said tehre was nothing I could do, nothing I could say that would make you stop loving me. I have done such terrible things, Father. Such awful things.
Do you still love me, father? Your eyes say nothing of love to me. All I see is fear there. All I ever wanted was for to love me, like you loved my sister.
Ah, Bethany. Even all these years, after all the darkness, I can hear her laughter still. My sweet sister. The golden child, the chosen one. I know father. I know it all. I saw all that mother chose not to see. I saw her fear, I heard her tears late at night. I saw her die before my eyes, a little more each day.
Tell me again, father. How did she die? How did sweet Bethany die? Ah, I remember. Alone. She dies alone, by her own hands. At least, that is what the guards said. That's what taht fat glutton of a priest said as he begged the Light to shine it's forgiveness on her. But we both knoe she wasn't alone, father. I know about the child.
Did Mother ever know? Thats the one thought that has bothered me. I always wondered whether that is why she gave up . Whether the drink was her way to cope. We'll never know now. I saw her gravestone out back. "Beloved wife, devoted mother" Oh, the lies that we tell to ourselves. Thats why I ran. I ran from what you made my sister into. I ran from what my mother became. I ran from you and your hungry eyes.
I married you know. He was a farmer. He was not a good man. Too quick to anger, too fond of his ale. He dies. Bandits, they said. I didn't care. The only worthwhile thing he ever did in his miserabe life was to give me my little boy. Your grandson.
Ah, your Grandson. He had your eyes, you know. As blue as the summer sky. But when he looked at me with your eyes, I saw nothing in them but love. Pure love. My dear, sweet boy.
When the sickness came, he was one of the first to go. My brave boy. And when the sickness came to me, I didn't care. I went to the darkness willingly. I craved the release of death, the peace of the grave. It was not to be.
Sssh, don't take on so. We're almost finished here. Do you not want to know how your daughter has fared. Death's grip on me was weak and I rose again. They call us forsaken, abominations of the natural order, abandoned by the light. My queen calls us Chosen. I care little. I serve willingly, but my heart is filled with nothing but rage.
I have seen those who walk in the Light. I have seen the morons of this village turn their eyes from what is in front of them, the priest who cares naught for anything other than his gut, the father who hides his darkness in the Light.
See, the night gets lighter. But it is not the dawn. I brought friends father, brothers in Darkness. If you could turn your head, father, you would see this stupid village burn. I would burn this village to ashes a thousand times and still I would rage. Hear the screams, father. Hear the people pay for their willful blindless, their refusal to hear the crys for help. It sounds glorious, it sounds like laughter from tims gone past.
I have returned, Father. And how I have hungered for this reunion."
Fri Feb 25, 2011 9:18 pm