Fell Dread
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*A self written child's poem*
"Fell Dread The Malicious Undead Don't Turn Your Back Or He'll Knock Off Your Head" Skin Tone: Pale White Eye Color: Milky White Height: Five Elven Build: Slightly Athletic Race: Self Aware Zombie Deity: ((Pending)) Voice: Deep, Raspy. Speaks Slow And in Low Tones. "I... Am... Fell..." The man standing before you is clad in thick, rusted, heavy platemail, strapped to his left arm is what apears to be the lid of a coffin torn from the box, in his right hand a gruesome large spike ball stained in blood. He stands just under six feet due to a hunch if he were to straighten his back he would reach six feet one inch, when he walks he limps with his right leg. His mouth is full of yellow-green teeth, when speaking his mouth moves slowly his tounge moving about improperly. Now despite what apears to be freshly dead flesh on bone he is warded from decay and does not smell of graveyard dust and rot, instead he has the light aroma of Frankensense and Myrr. |
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| Player: | Infinite Creator |
| Gender (Visually): | Male |
| Race (Visually): | Human |