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BLACKnPURPLE52

Race {Human}

Faction {TheBlades}

Vampire {Tries not to Be}

In a land far from Minecraftia, in a land called Coriaña. It was a foreign land where the people spoke the ancient language of Ãñáeltic. There, there lived an orphan named Coñán. He lived alone and his lifestyle drifted to vandalism and thievery. Coñán made a name for himself and constantly lived on the run. He became feared and hated by all who were Good and Righteous. Coñán, believing that his real name portrayed weakness and innocence, changed it too one that signified him, BLACKnPURPLE52. BLACK for the color of his sword, made of the darkest stone known {obsidian}, and PURPLE for the infamous purple sash that was ever around his waist. One day, everything went wrong. After a contract that had posed no real danger, BLACKnPURPLE52 was running, and for the first time in his life, he knew FEAR!!! For, he had been trapped, with no way out except for surrender, and was thrown into The Jail of the Dragon, the Highest Security Prison in ALL of the craftiverse. Using his formidible skills, he managed to escape, but not without many severe wounds across his body. Now a scarred man, and knowing that he had to leave his homeland, he took the nearest ship he could find and set sail into the blue. In his half year voyage, he made a vow, one that would change his life forever. He vowed to give up his ways, and in whatever land he found, would redeem what havoc he had caused in his Home. As he voyaged onwards, he grew more and more tired, until finally, he collapsed on the deck of his ship. He was found, by a group of sailors and traders, coming from a new land, Daendrocm, to their homeland of Ceardia. As they found him, a teenager of 17, a Trader named Storp took him in. BLACKnPURPLE52 lived there for 3 years, learning the ways of the Merchant before setting off into Ceardia for glory and riches. But soon after he left the land, he was captured by slavers and bandits, who left him for dead. . When he awoke, he was on an Island...In the sky. In the distance he could make out other islands, both large and small. Before him was a staircase, as he climbed it, he felt ever more confident, ever more persistent, as he neared the top, he viewed a window, a window into a world where he could restart, a place of rules and people, of war and peace. He walked forward, his life and memories fading around him, until, ... it was gone. Everything was gone as he entered a land from the past, a Ceardia of the past, before Daendroc had even been fully explored, before Ceardia itself had been industrialized. A Ceardia of Anew, a simpler Ceardia, but most importantly, a place where all could start again and become and go whatever and wherever there dreams took them. And so, He started again, no longer haunted by the memories of his past, or the uncertainty that folloed him. He started a new life altogether. He joined a Faction, TheBlades, who took him in and he flourished under their care and protection. He was a good citizen, a industrious citizen. As he lived with TheBlades, he rose in rank till he joined the order of Knights, an elite group in TheBlades, living up to the name itself. He was helpful, and cared for the others in his Faction, which had become his family. He lived there until the end of his days, content and redeemed.

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