Amalgam
Amalgam has been around for a long time. A very long time; so long, in fact, that they aren't even sure they remember how long themselves. But no matter how long their existence drags on, their devotion—and the devotion of Gossamer, their signature weapon—to the Knights of Anathaeum and the Pursuit of Death has remained ever-unwavering.
Indeed, Amalgam represents some of the very best the Knight Pursuants have to offer, and although they would never officially take on a leading role such as that of a Knight Captain—such would put them far too much in the public eye—the information they find in their excursions is often of vital import to even the highest echelons of their compatriots.
Appearance
Little if anything can really be said regarding what Amalgam actually looks like; after all, the most that can ever be seen of them is their long, stringy, translucent-white hair, which streams limply from the back of their forbidding helmet like so much spun glass. Amalgam is never seen outside their signature armor: a broad gorget of silvery steel and black leather spreads across the shoulders into a matching pair of small pauldrons, all lined and embossed with swirling silver filigree in abstract imitation of curled vines. The helmet is a simple metal dome over wrappings of black fabric, fronted by an eyeless visor with more angular silver adornments that evokes to the onlooker an image of the head of some merciless bird of prey.
Tight, weathered dark leather binds the torso and arms, framed by flanged dusksteel gauntlets and a small plate at each hip. The lower reaches of the garments give way to flowing folds of fabric in imitation of a robe or dress, though the ragged hem lies far enough above the ground to show the gleaming edges of pointed dusksteel sabatons. Within the form-fitting leather, Amalgam's body is thin and wiry, almost skeletal; an effect accentuated by their significant height. Their movements tend to be slow, and at times a bit jerky, almost like a puppet with its strings cut ... that is, until the moment they have a need to move quickly. For in that instant, they can become as a wisp of dark smoke upon the wind on a moonless midnight: swifter than the eye, and impossible to track.
Their voice is dry and flat and curiously lacking in emotion or inflection, almost like old words on parchment come alive; when they speak, it is slowly and deliberately, and rarely much above a whisper. And at their side, without fail, there hangs Gossamer: a silvery-black katana with an abnormally long blade. The blade itself is harder than polished starglass yet so thin and sharp as to be nearly transparent, and it cuts through the very air with the weightless swiftness of a butterfly's wing.
Master of the Blade—When it comes to bladed combat, Amalgam is a true albeit unorthodox master. Favoring efficiency over form, they extract the greatest value possible from each and every movement. Each strike is measured with more precision than the ticking of the myriad tiny gears that comprise the interior of a clock and delivered in less time than it takes an onlooker to blink. Each swing travels the shortest possible distance from its start to its target. At first glance, Amalgam seems stiff and slow; and yet, their economy of motion is without equal.
Surgeon's Expertise—Amalgam possesses an intimately deep knowledge of living bodies of all types: how they are put together, what makes them tick, and exactly how best to go about taking one apart. At least a part of Amalgam's sinister reputation stems from their documented tendency to use fallen foes (and sometimes even friends, if certain rumors are to be believed) as "test subjects" in the wake of a battle.
As terse and unfriendly as this can make Amalgam seem, they are unshakably loyal to their comrades-in-arms, as long as they're still even slightly alive. With an unwavering focus, an age that extends beyond youthful pettiness, and a dry sense of indomitable calm that persists through any situation, they often make for a nigh-perfect—if unsettling—leader figure among their Knight brethren. That darkly single-minded focus and silent attitude extend towards their treatment of opponents: typically unworthy of a single word, foes are simply dispatched without ceremony and—if necessary—harvested.
Amalgam does have one particular quirk, however, that stands out from their otherwise almost robotic façade: they refuse to be referred to as "Syr Amalgam." While "Syr" and "Amalgam" are both forms of address they will answer to as well as any other in isolation, any use of the two together will immediately engender a curt, albeit polite, correction with no further elaboration given.
Tight, weathered dark leather binds the torso and arms, framed by flanged dusksteel gauntlets and a small plate at each hip. The lower reaches of the garments give way to flowing folds of fabric in imitation of a robe or dress, though the ragged hem lies far enough above the ground to show the gleaming edges of pointed dusksteel sabatons. Within the form-fitting leather, Amalgam's body is thin and wiry, almost skeletal; an effect accentuated by their significant height. Their movements tend to be slow, and at times a bit jerky, almost like a puppet with its strings cut ... that is, until the moment they have a need to move quickly. For in that instant, they can become as a wisp of dark smoke upon the wind on a moonless midnight: swifter than the eye, and impossible to track.
Their voice is dry and flat and curiously lacking in emotion or inflection, almost like old words on parchment come alive; when they speak, it is slowly and deliberately, and rarely much above a whisper. And at their side, without fail, there hangs Gossamer: a silvery-black katana with an abnormally long blade. The blade itself is harder than polished starglass yet so thin and sharp as to be nearly transparent, and it cuts through the very air with the weightless swiftness of a butterfly's wing.
Skills and Abilities
Gossamer's Edge—So sharp and precise is Gossamer's blade that that which it cuts oft fails even to bleed for some time. Skin, flesh, and bone; a hair draped across it; the blades and handles of other weapons; the armor of an unlucky foe who foolishly thought themselves protected; all, to Gossamer, are of little more issue to slice through than the air itself.Master of the Blade—When it comes to bladed combat, Amalgam is a true albeit unorthodox master. Favoring efficiency over form, they extract the greatest value possible from each and every movement. Each strike is measured with more precision than the ticking of the myriad tiny gears that comprise the interior of a clock and delivered in less time than it takes an onlooker to blink. Each swing travels the shortest possible distance from its start to its target. At first glance, Amalgam seems stiff and slow; and yet, their economy of motion is without equal.
Surgeon's Expertise—Amalgam possesses an intimately deep knowledge of living bodies of all types: how they are put together, what makes them tick, and exactly how best to go about taking one apart. At least a part of Amalgam's sinister reputation stems from their documented tendency to use fallen foes (and sometimes even friends, if certain rumors are to be believed) as "test subjects" in the wake of a battle.
Amalgamate—Amalgam is in fact precisely what their name implies: an amalgamation of collected body parts taken from various corpses over the years rather than a single complete being. While their head remains mostly intact to preserve their mind, most of the rest of their body has long since been replaced by parts carefully harvested with Gossamer. When the replacements wear out, they too are replaced, and the old remains are discarded to lie among the remains of the now-looted harvest.
Personality
Amalgam's actions give away as little of their inner thoughts and personality as their garb gives away of their appearance. A being of few words, they prefer action and efficiency over chatter and dalliance and are like as not to have already left when a quest has been delivered while their compatriots are still busy wasting time and effort on discussing the whys and the wherefores. As in everything they do, efficiency is everything: if a conversation is not actively productive, it is a waste of time, and Amalgam's participation in it will accordingly be trimmed away like the useless fat it is.As terse and unfriendly as this can make Amalgam seem, they are unshakably loyal to their comrades-in-arms, as long as they're still even slightly alive. With an unwavering focus, an age that extends beyond youthful pettiness, and a dry sense of indomitable calm that persists through any situation, they often make for a nigh-perfect—if unsettling—leader figure among their Knight brethren. That darkly single-minded focus and silent attitude extend towards their treatment of opponents: typically unworthy of a single word, foes are simply dispatched without ceremony and—if necessary—harvested.
Amalgam does have one particular quirk, however, that stands out from their otherwise almost robotic façade: they refuse to be referred to as "Syr Amalgam." While "Syr" and "Amalgam" are both forms of address they will answer to as well as any other in isolation, any use of the two together will immediately engender a curt, albeit polite, correction with no further elaboration given.
Biography & Lore
Wow, you really thought it would just be that easy, didn't you? *evil grin*