Artix Blegh

Character Format:
Name: Artix
Race: Aasimar - Human
Age: 22
Appearance: 6'3 1/2" Pale ghostly skin, Gold Hair, Silver eyes, and a strange gold-white aura that constantly sparks from him.
Equipment:


The Armor of Corbeau A paladin armor smithed years ago and worn in the crusades against darkness. It's built much like a combination of
plate-mail and chainmail. Protecting the chest, shoulders and forearms with plates of metal and protecting it in between while allowing for free movement with chainmail. The armor is a shining silver in color accented with a gold. The helmet is very similar to a traditional crusader's with a 4-point star forming the nose guard.

The Shield of Corbeau: The Shield used by the great paladin. It's designed is that of a sun peeking through the hole of a crescent moon. The moon is a shining black representing the darkness where the sun is the light within the darkness, with three waving prongs of light coming forth from it. Giving mercy, hope, and justice to the world. The Sun is an almost glowing gold in the center with the prongs being a silver with a gold trim. Within the sun itself is the symbol of Murielle from the time of Corbeau.

The Cape of Corbeau: The Cape is gray in color, with a darker gray in outline. It's separated into two segments, one smaller cape over another. The Smaller one going to about the mid-back and the longer down to his knees. The Cloth is very old and worn, but keeps a good appearance. The Smaller cape also has a bit of metal overlain over it in the form of a half crescent sun from the same silver in the same design of the sun of the shield with three gold waves of light coming from the bottom over the larger shield.

The Flail of Corbeau: The Shape of the Flail is modest in design, being a basic handle with a somewhat basic chain that's rather longer than the norm with a somewhat peculiar mace head. Instead of the normal spikes it uses 6 fins that run down the longitudes of the sphere. The entire thing, other than the fins being gold, is shining in silver with gold designs.


Magic: Holy-Light Magic
Back Story that fits with above stated lore:

Artix grew up on a farming town in a country of plains, living and working toward his dream of running his father's farm once he grew older. It was a simple life, though in the year Artix turned 7, the crops began to wilt early in the seasons, far too soon to start harvest, worrying his family. In the following months, sights of cultist in the woods had been seen by passerby hunters, and the corpses of citizens of the quaint town were found where the cultists were once seen, until they attacked. Masses of undead, lead by the cultists to purge the land and blanket the fields in black, none survived other than Artix. As the undead ravaged through town directed by the cultists, he had huddled below his bed, though the undead ripped through his room tearing even the walls and roof from the house in their wake, he was untouched. Even as a fire ripped through the town and burnt whatever remained of what was once his home he had been left behind as a sole remainder. Though, not all was the same, as the torrent of undead waved through, Artix had been left scarred, not by death and darkness but my mercy and light, he had shined a white light within the darkness, and his hair once a burnt auburn now shine as gold. His eyes, once sparkled with green with the hope of keeping to the family farm, to marry the neighbor girl, to be happy, now shine a lustrous silver aimed toward seeing through the shadow cast by evil's might. His skin had turned paler, to mourn the dead of the day and bare sight to the cruelty of the world and also it's mercy.
        Artix after surviving the traumatic event, waved onward, passing through town to town, though always looked on cautiously from afar as he bared almost curse of light. This light sparked feared in the minds of most that saw him, it allowed for their eyes to see the darkness that fell through them. It made them think of their hatred and how it curses the land and gave some hope of a better tomorrow. But as it shined hope into some, it shined hatred into others. This hope brought hatred. Just as the light will bring out our best, shining it on the worst of us brings out that malicious we keep it our soul. Though, as they lashed out at him he took no arms, merely passing by town to town until one day he was taken in by a group of traveling priests of Murielle who revered the child as a sort of Messiah!
        Artix had been taken in as a messiah to the priests. He was brought to their monastery, a special one in a secluded part of the world where they could come and pray. They were founded in legends years ago by a Paladin who had lived in a world surrounded by darkness that crept in all men. He had been uplifted by Murielle and changed just as Artix, Golden hair, Silver Eyes, Pale skin, and an Aura of light that could pierce even the shadows that hide within our souls. That paladin had brought a crusade across the lands, ending at this monastery and gave hope to all that saw him and fought for the whole of man.
        For the next twelve years Artix had been trained in the way of the paladin and learned the art of the Paladin before him in the ways of their magic and their skills in the flail. They educated the best they could, and taught them to ride a horse, but even as they taught him to humble himself they still revered him as a messiah next to a god.  Even the neighboring town took part in his worship. When it came for his training to end and for him to leave, he road top of the hill sitting next to the monastery overlooking the the town stood before him he spoke in a booming voice heard across the town, "It is time for me to leave, but fear not the teaching of Murielle is within all of you just as it is me. Though I must admit, I am not different from any of you to her eyes. I am no god, I am only a man. A vessel, chosen as an ultimate offering of mercy by the the lord herself. So in my departure I wish to ride a crusade in her name, not in bloodshed but in a quest against evil that still marks this land so that one day we may have peace." and with that he rode through town, a crowd cheering for him as he passed through.