[Eight-Bit]

Full Name: Matilda Landsend
Age: 17
Class(es): Cleric
Race: Human
Subrace: N/A
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Deity: Corath
Domains (if cleric): Evil, Death.
Short Bio/Description:

This small thing - an insignifcant little creature - what is she? It upon the surface appears to be nothing more than just a child. Perhaps a lost and confused one, as her choice of attire is quite unflattering of her features, but a child nonetheless. What could this child be doing? It is obvious that she, at one point in her life, would laugh and play as all the others do. But why now, does she sit alone, off in the shadows, sobbing quietly to herself?

To understand that, one must take into consideration the epic stalemate of good versus evil. Two opposing sides, facing forever upon an infinite battlefield which spans the entire Multiverse. Deep within her, under the quite and often tranquil waters of her earthly visage, such a battle rages. Something, which sits dormant in most things has been stirred and awoken. Slowly, inch by inch, she is consumed by it. Here, evil has strength and the advantage. She is but a weak child. She doesn't have the will to stand against it. No matter how far she runs, or how much she hides, it always comes to her some how. She turns inward. Perhaps to contain whatever it is within her?

Whatever the cause, day by day she grows to rely on it. And worse still, she is starting to depend upon it. You see, whatever it is within her which consumes her so, it acts with her. As if it is using her to lash out at the world. Small bursts of energy, weak creatures running in fear, and strange and often violent images appearing. She doesn't understand. Is she a monster? Or, is something inside her a monster? Whatever it is, it has grown worse. The more she uses it, the more she MUST use it. She has an urge, perhaps an addiction to it. Yes, that explains it best. To quench her thirst of it, she must use it more and more. Whatever it is that consumes her so, I see it as perfection. She is perfect.

- A letter to the High Priest of Corath, explaining findings on a little child of Hlint.

Matilda has hidden herself away in Hlint for little over three months now. She has seen and experienced many new things. The world has certinally expanded itself from her bedroom. She has taken on new responsibilites, and found new... friends. But for each posititive experience, there are a infinite number of negative. She has seen the ugliness of humans. Those who she had looked up to, cast down with the rest of the Monsters. You see, anything which causes fear is a monster to her. She has found that the world is filled with such. Monsters everywhere she looks. Even behind the eyes of humans, there is a monster hidden there. When she looks at herself, that is what she sees. A monster. Maybe she is insane? Or perhaps, something is showing her the deep truth of humanity?

Of anything, there are such things which cause her great pleasure. Hearing the Elves speak enchants her. She falls into a daze, soaking in every single word. Her special power, well... no, that doesn't explain it well. Her blessings, of a sort. She has learnt to harness them. She is able to bend them to a point where she is in control now. When she first came to Hlint, she was a small walking bomb. Now, she can unleash it when she wants. She still has the risk of loosing her control, but with time and focus she has been able to keep her head above the waters.

Until recently that is. Seeing a Dwarf kill the children of small creatures - they called them Rust Monsters - she was shocked and stunned. She watched as they burned the eggs, even after her protests. It is rare that she would stand up against anything. But when she did, they ignored her. She was very upset. A small fire burned in her because of it. This fire fueled the growing hatred in her.

After that incident, she just lost herself. She turned her back on the living. They had too many flaws, she thought. Unlike the dead. They're so simple. They don't HAVE their feelings to get in the way of whats right. They aren't afraid to do what is natural, rather than what they choose to view as what is correct. She spends a good amount of her time in and around the crypts. Just watching the Undead there. Rumors speak that she is an apprentice of Erag. But they're just casual rumors spread by the passing adventurers. If anything, Erag should be her's. Even if she denies it, she has a talent with the dead. She can control the energies which makes them what they are.

Now, she just sit alone. Praying late at night. Hoping for an answer. Though, perhaps who replys is not as kind as she wishes.