Sir Alaric

In a time long forgotten, when the realm of man teetered on the edge of oblivion, there stood a knight whose valor and honor were unmatched. Sir Alaric, clad in armor of gleaming silver, was the last of a legendary order. With his faithful sword ever at his side, he vowed to protect the kingdom and his fair-haired Lady from all manner of evils. Yet, none were as dire as the ███ ████████████, a beast of unimaginable power and malice, whose ravenous hunger threatened to consume the world itself.
███ ████████████'s lair was a fortress of stone and flame, deep within the cursed mountains where no living soul dared tread. It was there, in the heart of darkness, that Sir Alaric and his brave companions ventured, carrying with them a mighty relic that could slay the beast forever. They fought their way through legions of monstrous minions, each step forward a testament to their indomitable will. Bloodied and weary, they finally stood before the colossal gates of ███ ████████████.
With a deafening roar that shook the very earth, ███ ████████████ emerged, its scales glistening with a darkness that seemed to consume light. Its eyes burned with an ancient fury, and its maw dripped with the essence of pure destruction. Sir Alaric, unwavering, raised his sword high and bellowed a challenge that echoed through the mountains. ███ ████████████, sensing the mettle of its foe, responded with a torrent of decay. But Alaric's armor, imbued with the protective spells of his order, held firm.
The battle raged for hours, a titanic clash of steel and flame, of unyielding resolve against primal wrath. One by one, Alaric's comrades fell, their sacrifice buying precious moments for their leader. At last, it was down to Sir Alaric and ███ ████████████, the knight's breath coming in ragged gasps, his armor scorched and battered. With a final, desperate surge of strength, Alaric leaped forward, detonating the device and ending the beast and its minions.
With a blinding light and a thunderous cry, the ███ ████████████ thrashed in its death throes. Yet, as it fell, the beast whispered a curse, ancient and malevolent. It spoke of eternal torment, of a soul bound to armor, never to know peace. Sir Alaric, his vision fading, felt the weight of the curse settle upon him. His body, mortal and frail, succumbed to the wounds, but his spirit was ensnared by the ███ ████████████ malediction.
The light faded and the silence returned, and the land stood empty for countless centuries, save for a solitary suit of armor, untouched by time. Within it, the soul of Sir Alaric remained, bound by duty and cursed by fate. Ages passed, and the tales of the Cursed Knight spread far and wide, a legend of bravery and tragedy. Sir Alaric, cursed by ███ ████████████, wandered the world, seeking redemption that might never come, forever a guardian, forever bound.

Alaric is, at a quick glance, a tall man in heavy plate armor. Its design is unique, of a style long dead but clearly built by incredibly skilled hands. The entire thing thrums with pure magitech energy and is seemingly impervious to damage. Not that it would matter, as a simple glance into the armor itself reveals that the man inside does not exist.

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Personality

The suit of living armor that calls itself Sir Alaric has a strange personality, almost as strange as his very existence. He speaks in an odd flowing accent, insists upon calling everyone he meets either 'Sir' or 'Madam', and is obsessed with tracking down and protecting someone or something he calls 'my Queen'.
He follows a strict code known only to himself, and is incapable of resisting the urge to help any in need of assistance. Despite this, he is a brutal fighter who shows no hesitation in using lethal force when necessary.

Physical Description

The suit of armor that houses Alaric stands at seven feet tall, and is very heavy despite being empty. The small cracks and gaps in the armor emit a soft red glow, and a constant low hum can be heard emanating from within. The armor has neither mark nor stamp to give clues as to its creation, and its style is not one that has ever been used by the imperial military.

Species

Human

Age

~15000 Years

Circumstances of Death

Paracausal Reality Alteration

Birthplace

The Place Beyond the Sky

Place of Death

The Place Beyond the Sky

Pronouns

He/They

Aligned Organization

Crew of the Primrose Dawn