Damon

Name: Damon

Age: Unknown, countless

Race: Shadow Demon

Personality: sadist, cruel humored. He will maintain his front to lure in prey if he must, and only those who have proven a benefit to him come close to what anyone would call a friend. 

Occupation: N/A

Relations: N/A

History: Spending all of his previous years feeding off the souls sent to hell he found a crack of a hellgate left open after the events of Fortuna, long forgotten. From there he has made his emergence into the human realm. 

Sample Post:

Abandoned Fortress

A shrill tune of his whistle echoed through the empty halls, furniture strewn and coated in dust. Occasionally he would kick at a sole stone, making it bounce between the walls. He slunk about the decrepit halls of the once prestigious religious warriors. The Order of the Sword, had it been disbanded, had the members been killed? He read over what material he could find. He was certain there had to be at least one left. just one... and he wanted a taste. These Demon Hunters, the hardest catch and the tastiest. He'd never had one himself, but he had heard from others, that they stank of their own dealt death and the rot of the guilt on their souls was sweetest.

Nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath of the atmosphere. Yes, there was at least one.

He let go of his current form and settled into a light mist blanketing the stone walkway. It covered more ground this way, in a quite literal sense.

The lone soldier was found in the library, sorting through piles and mismatched volumes. With silence that would deafen a bat, the mist crept over the windows until the room darkened enough to gain the soldier's attention. Who then spun to see the glass panes darken even further. And he was engulfed.

"DEMON!" the poor lone man cried out just before the wall of mist closed around him, loud enough to echo down the halls as well. Then he took a step towards the origin of the mist, brandishing his sword. But here in the darkness there was nothing for him to swing at, no obvious target. The shadow watched the man turn this way and that searching for a shred of reality before he began to hallucinate. This little show would need more, much more, to put the fear into this man's heart. The mist lifted from the floor, just enough to allow the tiniest shred of light. Then claws scraped the stone, huge, a shadow within a shadow the darkness thickened in the shape of a great beast with eyes reflecting hell itself. The red glow from those orbs lit the human's face as the natural color drained from it.

There it was, there was the fear. The shadow beast lunged and the man screamed, guarding his face. The beast chuckled with it's deep voice, much like the ripples of an earthquake.

"What a hunter you are ha ha ha ha ha, I can smell your piss soaked self from here," The beast appeared to circle the man, claws scraping the stone before landing in a heavy THUD with every step, "How pitiful, how worthless. You've probably ruined the taste of your flesh." The creature appeared to stop circling, and brought it's face close to the mans, the fear found there reflected in the beast's red eyes, "I'll have to strip you of it before I can eat you!"