Isaac Mstislav

Description:
Bio:

Destroyer of Evil, Conqueror of the unclean, The Eternal Flame, One-who-kicks-wholesale-ass, My sword is bigger than yours, Consecration Specialist, 360 no scope boom head-smite…

Isaac is the personification of Vengeance and Righteous Anger. After losing his family as a young boy he was taken in by a Royal family and served them until mature enough to join the local militia where he quickly rose through the ranks and was drafted during wartime for his prowess and unbridled fury during combat, becoming one of the youngest captains ever. He was beloved by his company and served as a figure they would aspire to become. One evening him and his men where assigned to defend an obscure town housing wheat and other supplies vital to the war effort until a caravan would meet them. Upon arrival, Isaac and his men settled into this small town but noticed the townsfolk to be fearful. Any sort of interaction between them was impossible as the villagers would avoid him and his soldiers every chance they got. As the night grew darker Isaac sat near the the fire his band had created in their makeshift camp surrounding the granary and reflected on this while staring up at the large full moon flooding the entire village in light. Suddenly a cry sounded on the edge of the camp. Isaac ran and saw his company taking up arms and encircling a massive bulk of fur engorging itself on what was once his second in command. As his men approached the beast he realized quickly from the tattered rags that still clung to the beast that he was dealing with a Werewolf.

The beast was not alone.

Out of the darkness more of the frightening monsters sprang forth surprising Isaac and his men and a full on fight for survival took place. Sometime during the battle one of his men had lost his weapon and took up a stick from the campfire still lit to try to ward off one of the beasts, Isaac fighting off one already badly wounded and another that had attempted to leap on top of him from over one of the nearby tents caught a glimpse of the monster swatting the still lit stick out of his man’s arms before biting into his neck. The stick had gracefully fallen onto a neatly piled bale of hay next to the granary and was quickly erupting into flames.

Isaac and his battle hardened men fought throughout the night to ward off the would be attackers, with heavy losses on both sides. He yelled to one of his men to lookout and was momentarily distracted enough to allow one of the injured beasts to leap atop him and the two of them rolled down away from battle. The beast had him pinned and was trying to gnaw at his face, with one hand Isaac attempted to keep the beast at bay while the other struggled to find purchase on his sword a few inches from his fingertips in the dense grass of the battlefield. Finally gripping his sword hilt he plunged the blade deep into the beast’s chest just as he caught a claw across his face. The beast lay on top on Isaac, blade protruding out of the beast’s back as Isaac lost consciousness from the weight of the monster and the wounds he had suffered.

Isaac awoke to the sound of horses and men. It was midday and the smell of death and decay hung heavy in the air. He could hear men shouting in dismay and turned to see horses and carts a ways away and some men running towards the scene of the carnage. He attempted to yell but only a small sound escaped him. A naked human girl, no older than 16 lay on him, with his sword still protruding from her back.

It all made sense now.

Isaac mustered the strength to push the girl aside and called for help. Finally being noticed by the men they rushed over to his aide, bombarding him with questions. He answered what he could but was in no mood for questions after surveying the carnage. His men and the people of the village lay dead before his feet and the grain he was entrusted to protect for this very caravan was now a heap of ash.The weight of his losses hung heavy on him.The last thing the caravan leader would see is Isaac walking away in no particular direction away from the battle.

Many years would pass before he reemerged, but no longer a soldier, he would return to this world as a gleaming instrument of destruction. His art re-purposed to destroy evil wherever it would show itself.

Isaac Mstislav

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