Physical Description Edit

Malice Edit

Malice is in Oread bred to be the perfect murder machine. He has perfect stone figure, with jet black eyes. He stands tall for his kind at 5' 6. If he has sharp teeth to eat the faces of his foes.

Background Edit

From the day of his birth, and for the rest of his life, Malice was bread to be a war machine. Malice’s parents lived in a hidden tribe where they worshipped and carried out the deeds of their deity, Szuriel. Their tribe was full of master craftsman that where specialized in inflicting as much pain as possible to those whom oppose them. Their tribe was constantly at war with paladins of many religions, constantly proving their strength on the battle field as they hacked and slashed through the front lines of the paladin armies. The day of Malice’s birth was a horrific day for their tribe, the Oranthul. In the tribe men and woman alike had great strength and were battle hardened from birth. Malice’s mother, called Siren for her efficiency for slaying on the battle field making her absolutely beautiful to her people, was stabbed in the stomach while she was carrying Malice still in her stomach. Right there in the middle of the battlefield, Malice’s father was forced to cut open Siren to save his only son. He was able to save him but he was born with a scar right down the middle of his right eye. From a very young age, Malice took great interest in crafting arms and armor, that it became his passion. He would find wonderers traveling near his camp, capture them and torture them to see how painful his weapons were. His favorite form of harm was through fire. He loved the smell of burning flesh and craved the feeling of his blade cutting through his enemies. As he and his friends reached of age for fighting against the paladins, they had to prove their strength not only in battle, but in their skill to craft their own armor and weapons. Malice stayed up day and night perfecting his weapons and armor to be the most potent when it came to slaughter. At last he had finished and couldn’t wait to spill blood. As Malice and his friends where lined up, Malice’s father was dragged in on his knees by the guards. He had been caught giving was strategies to the enemies and was being sent to his death. The general in command of Malice ordered the guards to bring his father and place him down right in front of him. The general and Malice crossed eyes and Malice knew what he had to do. Without a blink of an eye, raised his great sword, swore to Szuriel his life, and brought down his blade and cut his father’s head clean off. The general was pleased and knew that Malice could lead his peers into war. He made Malice the assistant general of their regime. Malice immediately marched out to war. As they arrived there were over a hundred paladins waiting for their small number of twenty. Malice grinned, dropped to one knee and prayed to Szuriel. At that moment his strength grew and his ferocity became unmatched. He charged in with his regime and he alone slaughtered half of the paladins with great ease. He watched as a few of his friends hid in fear of death, and charged after them. He told them if they did not fight he would show them no mercy for their heresy. They began to run but they could not escape his wrath. He slayed them all and carved off their faces, to intimidate his enemies and allies to never stop fighting. As the rest of the regime arrived home, the general saw the faces and was pleased to see Malice’s fierce leadership. 

Although Malice had shown great leadership and battle strength, he continues to focus on ways to improve his skills. Day and night he trains and trains, and he begins to fear that he will never grow in strength. He expresses his concern with his general, and to his suprise the general gave him a devilish grin.

"There are many ways to gain power in this world, are you willing to do anything for it?" asked the general.

Malice replied "I would sell my soul to Szuriel if that means i could join the ranks amongst the angels of death." 

"If that is so, allow me to arrange a meeting. Meet me here on the blood moon which should be coming soon and your dreams will become reality." said the general.

Malice bows and takes his leave to continue his training until the day comes.

Tigers Eat Faces, I Eat Faces, therefore.... Edit

Malice has an obsession with the strength of tigers, and there grace as they slaughter their pray. He vowed that he would one day gain their instincts.