In the days when the people first began to suffer from the cruelty of the 'Abominations', a humble blacksmith born during the days where the demons still and his wife had a boy. The name he was given is forgotten by time itself, but . . . you may call him Thane. In the lands of ye-old Fiore (some time after the discovery of magic, yet (according to the Wizardex timeline) after the 26 slayers were defeated), Thane had been born under a certain sign, one that foretold his future oh so clearly to the blind seers.
. . . One fateful day, the boy started off on a seemingly normal day in the lands, doing good deeds so he may make money to purchase a gift for his mother whence she returned. It was her birthday. As much as he wanted to celebrate his mother’s return, an old seeress warned him of a vision of great terror, chaos, and Pain. As he returned to the village from the farm ground after pulling crops, a man ran through the village gate screaming of the abominations that would come to the town and slay everyone. The blue sky was completely enveloped in a blanket of darkness, fierce inferno’s engulfed the sky, the village burning to the ground. The servants, abominations pillaged long into the night, murdering humble villagers as they search for the life . . . His sister was captured by the bandits. The boy, feeling oh so very powerless, only able to listen to the shrill cries of the villagers, desperately trying to defend themselves against the bandit Horde. The simple people of the village prove an easy task for the bandits, and almost everyone is killed. Terrified, the boy returns to the town, but not a soul can be found other than his father, who had witnessed the same horrors, whose soul had broken into pieces and was reforged in the image of hatred. . .
It was then the humble blacksmith hundreds of years ago forged a fabled blade through a forbidden process of forging swords that are imbued with the very vengeful soul's of the villagers and the blacksmith's beloved wife and family (excluding thane). . . But, that was not what was hoped. The sword forged from his work had been intended to slay the 'God' of death, someone said to have been the darkest, most evil Mage in the history of the Magic World, mastering the Black Arts and creating many Demons, some of which still wreak havoc in the present day . . . The Dark Mage, Zeref. However, despite the good intentions of the Blacksmith all those years ago, it didn't matter whether the hundreds of souls imbued into the sword were pure or not, it did not matter if the precautions for the ritual were taken. It did not matter what the Blacksmith did to make sure the sword turned out pure, like the countless men who surrendered their souls for the light of the gods. For no matter how or which way it had been forged, the blade was built upon the hatred and malice of the Blacksmith, his accursed obsession with slaying the Dark Magician. That obsession, that hate, the malice, it would become a demon sword regardless. It was then, when the blade was forged, a man came and took the blade, transporting to the void (somehting similar to the one Kuroryu sealed with his brother inside), a realm of pure chaos. Having lost all, the blacksmith died and Thane was finally left all alone.
Thane would grow obsessed with the monsters, determined to find a way to kill them and end their reign of terror, hell, even making a few hundred safe zones if possible . . . One night, while consulting a mysterious tome, Thane was suddenly transported from the Earth-land, and unto the Void (A realm of pure chaos). There he met the man who sat on a throne surrounded by ghastly figures. The being believed himself to be of a higher power than The boy, 'Thane', and tried to enslave him through the use of an Ornate sword, the sword stolen by the man who set the depression into motion that killed his father. Amazingly, Thane overpowered the man, stealing the sword and fleeing the void after harshly wounding the man, killing the first man on a list of monsters.
The demon sword forged by his father spoke to the Boy, calling itself the that of 'Shinokishi' (yes, that of his lineage). . . It promised to help him destroy all monsters, all life that had harmed him, and force them to cross over to the realm of the damned, but only if The boy Gave him its soul . . . His obsession was too great, Thane fell to temptation.
It was a rather rainy and damp night, the already gray sky had all but been consumed by rain clouds and shadows, there wasn't but a spec of moonlight in the sky. Those new damned weather-depicting wizards weren't good at foretelling it whatsoever, it was just . . . 'there would be a pretty full moon tonight they said' "not a cloud in the sky they said' . . . Pathetic humans. A small steam-boat carrying but a child to the front of the all but massive halls of the guild of bounty hunters. He was a rather short teenage boy with short unkempt white hair and glowing blue eyes . . . his body dimensions that was described as "slim" and "delicate." As for his facial features he was somewhat child-like in appearance, but that was to be expected from someone hardly large enough to reach the bar in a guild hall and take his well deserved share of booze . . . Standing hardly over 4'3" tall . . . There wasn't much interesting about him, aside from his severely outdated clothing. To a bounty hunter the type of clothing he was wearing would indicate he lived a very regal and rich lifestyle, which consists of black trousers, a six-button double-breasted tailcoat, and a gray vest, also sporting a pocket watch and a chained silver lapel pin bearing the symbol of a skull with X's over its pupils. His white gloves conceal very well kept fingernails that were apparently naturally colored black since his birth . . . On his back an ornate sword much larger than the child standing there on the steam-boat, likely two meters in length. Its design was very oriental in design, likely of Japanese descent, the exact type of sword would be described as a Nodachi, a field sword.
For someone of that particular build and height, hardly any older than 13 or 14, that sword must've been pretty heavy. Anyways, that steam ship would come to a halt at the dock in front of the guild hall, the captain of the ship would assist the young lad off the boat and onto the dock, leaving the kid to walk forward dragging the massive sword along behind him like some dork in the middle of a battlefield. Anyone what would've 'greeted him' might've thought he was here to place a bounty on someone's head with that rich kid getup . . . What reinforced that idea was how the captain of that steam ship didn't even ask for payment, he just assisted the boy like it was his duty. It wasn't exactly every day someone with a large enough wallet with enough jewels to pay an entire guild off, so, seeing him would've drawn some attention.
The building he was approaching was quite easily identified as some of the more 'medieval' style places, not at all close to the regal style of the clothing the boy was wearing. Large wooden doors stood in front of him, spanning the size of that a gate should be on the outer, log-crafted walls of a village in the forests to the north. The type of village that was attacked by monsters on a regular basis . . . The windows and their panes were quite dirty and dusty, but that was to be expected when approaching a guild full of reformed bandit wizards and mercenary mages, still, that made the child stop for a moment and roll up his sleeves before prying the massive guild hall doors open. Thank goodness he was wearing those gloves, although, he might overreact when he finds the dirt and mud stains on the perfect white leather gloves he wore . . . that sword was still on his side, being dragged along, the already ancient scabbard for the nodachi was practically soaking due to the rain. Thankfully the roof hanging overhead roughly three stories above was keeping the young master dry for the time being. Still didn't stop the creaks in the roof from dropping onto that top-hat he wore.
He entered the hall, dragging the over-sized blade along with him inside the dry warm guild halls . . . it was close to 9:00 PM at night by the time he had officially arrived at the guild. The large doors would creak until they slammed shut from a gust of wind hitting them.
Last edited by Thane on 1st May 2015, 11:16 am; edited 1 time in total