Asunción
If a bad end befits a bad man, then the dread-knight Asunción (ah-soon see-un) received exactly what he was due: a stake through the heart. The cabal of heroes responsible for his staking saw to it that the vampire’s legacy—his minions, treasures, and castle—would stay buried forever, and forgotten. In this, they succeeded, for the cursed man’s name was stricken from history. Those slain by his hand were avenged, and the survivors of his oppressive rule could finally live out their lives in relative peace. Two centuries passed over the undisturbed ruins of Castle Asun—jutting from the shallow northern sea like a jagged tooth—before they received a visitor. The stake was removed, and the dread-knight’s resurrection began.
Now, he lives a false life. An existence that is not really his own.
Appearance
Never has Asunción been mistaken for a normal human being. His skin is an olive grey; his eyes, golden rings suspended in pools of tar. Claws protrude from his fingertips. Both sets of canines in his mouth are sharpened and enlarged—the bottom set jutting from his lips like splintered bones. The body of the vampire is tall, lean, and muscled to perfection; a six-foot weapon of flesh and sinew. Not a being you would let live near you or your family, your town, or anything you hold dear. Not if you were sane.
Personality
Asunción is a brooding, sullen, six-foot shadow of discontent. In social interactions, he is a terse, if acerbic, master of avoidance. Displeasure so often lines his lips that you would think he never smiles—or sleeps, for his eyes are always red-rimmed. Asunción’s dichotomy is this: he dresses common but is not; sleeps too much but is never rested; thinks he has found redemption in a simple existence—but really has not.
Abilities and Equipment
Little remains of the dread-knight’s abilities. Whatever dark power saw fit to grant him mastery over undeath has long since vanished—or severed its ties with him. Asunción retains much of his physical strength and abilities inherent to his vampiric lineage, but little else.
In the realm of equipment, he owns naught but a heavy black cloak—just enough to thwart the sun’s venomous rays.