|Name||Champion of the Crusaders
Scythe of the East
Maester of the Al Abassi
|Race||Al Abassi (Fallingstar Tribe)|
|Eye Color||Dark Brown|
|Hair Color||Hazel Brown Fur|
|Previous Affiliation||Al Abassi Union|
|Occupation||Tactical General (Troia)
Maester of the Al Abassi
|Team||Council of Yevon|
|Previous Partner||Many Teachers
|Base of Operations||Troia, Bevelle|
|Education||Al Abassi Rites
Secular Training in Bevelle
Many Years of Tutelage in the Old Way.
|Primary Job||Black Mage|
Trained with the faith of the Yevon at heart, Nemain never once faltered from the beliefs set into motion by the religion. Standing tall as a zealous crusader, Darkfang sought to become the something more then just one who would prepare to fight the wicked Sin. One day this ambition to dive into deeper understanding, to realize his potential; he found out what it was that he desired most.
With this ideal in mind, Nemain became the herald of the Yevon for his people. Returning to them, he spread word of the power of Yunalesca, his heart filled with hope. Renewing the fervor the populace had, he sparked a new courage that had been unseen in many centuries. This spark kindled the Yevon faith amidst the Al Abassi, igniting the seeds of passion to bear fruit. Many took on the Yevon faith, and the Al Abassi Union soon declared that the Yevon religion could coincide with their own. This earned him the rank of Maester for the Al Abassi, earning a seat in the circle of Yevon Maesters, leaders of the religion.
Nemain Darkfang, learned with much disdain the truth behind Sin, behind the act of the Final Summoning. Hiding these secrets deep within his heart, the Maester strove to stay his emotions, belaying the sorrow. Played by falsehoods, Nemain strove to find a new way in order to achieve a true Calm. A true eternal peace. His heart pushing forward, Nemain decided to implament his plans in order to achieve his ultimate goal... the goal all Spirans had at heart.
To free the world of Sin, not just for a time. But forever more.
Nemain is dressed in the garb of a staunch general, garbed in black and gold, contrary to his nation's colors. Donning a chapeau, brimmed with white. Standing tall and with a single focus, his scythe held on his back. Walking with the air of a prince, but the posture of a dignified hero, freed of the common man stress. Nemain smiles happily when approached by others, keeping his eyes to theirs, guided and true. Focused, the Al Abassi engages others in conversation when met.
Wearing dark boots, miltary grade, using them to scale terrain that would be otherwise much harder to scale. Added traction. His tunic enthralled by a over-shoulder cloak, going far down his minature pauldrons and down to the floor. The very image of an the mage.
Bearing several tattoos on his body, Nemain has marked his body with several angelic and ritualistic symbols of the Yevon for his belief in the order. As well, it is known that Nemain himself bears the mark of the Darkfang, the significent dark fur with patches of brown, and the deep haunting gaze of his auburn eyes.
Nemain, a figure of charisma and zeal. Bolstered with immense courage, he is the embodiment of the zeal that the Yevon faith should hold, the heart of a hero that the Al Abassi can look up to. Wise beyond his years, Nemain has aided his people by giving them freedom from the ways that the Elders of the Al Abassi Union. Inspiration for the youth, Nemain is highly popular with the next generations of Al Abassi, Humans, and even the kind of the Guado and Ronso. A standard placed for others to reach up to, Darkfang is the symbolic role model for others to follow in the footsteps of. Using his influence, Nemain gives out the teachings of the Ye Yevon to his people, mastered in the Faith, he uses his elegent tongue and guile mind to infuse those he speaks to with security and trust.
Nemain is the prodigy mage of his people, and as such, wields immense knowledge of the magical arts. Fashioning himself to be the world's finest Black Mage, comparable and equal to the likes of the Grand Masters of Black Magic within Cinquleur. It is his way of life, seeing the world as elemental powers, he acknolwedges that life is within the simplest of sparks, and imbues his spells with emotion and passion unseen for years. Not seeing it as a tool, but as a companion in which he can usher the next world into.
In the direst of situations, Darkfang holds his ground, heels dug into the ground. Stubborn to a fault, Nemain is understanding and does his best to see all points of views without threatening his own or forfeiting his prespective. Eloquent, the Lynx Maester speaks with the air of a battle hardened veteren, feeling that for one to be a part of the world, they must be rational and honest. Offering hope and faith when needed, Nemain also knows when to break the situation down and press his hand down on the matter, not letting it fall away because of certain political agendas. It is for this manner that which Nemain takes in debates, that he is a worthy foe for even the most witty of politicians and nobles, earning his keep against them. As well, it is for this no-nonsense feeling that makes him unpopular at gatherings in which lies must be thrown about without morale consent or thought.
In battle, Nemain spins his scythe with the grace of a dancer. Fighting with the fervor of a battle hungry wildman, the Al Abassi blood coursing through his veins. Refrained from malicious actions, he is honorable to a fault, giving his opponent a chance to rise up and surrender. Many a time has a foe been converted to the Yevon and offered a second chance by Darkfang himself if they truly mean to. However, those that dare speak out against him after the fact, or only seek to do more harm are soon met by Nemain's feral hate, lashing out at them with unbrideled anger. Showing that second chances are a sign of good faith, and should never be taken lightly.
The Phophetic BirthEdit
During the morning, in a turbulent desert storm like no other they'd seen before, the Fallingstar Tribe was forced to take shelter in the sacred halls of a Great Beast Temple. These halls held statues and symbolic relics of those the Al Abassi worshipped, a place rarely tred upon. And as the winds outside threatened to suffocate them in it's storm, the walls of the temple offered solitude and safety.
Yet, nothing could be said for the struggling lynx who was trying to give birth to her first born. Cries of anguish filled the halls, and all were reverent as the tribal monks and elders took place in giving this child safe entry into their world. The process did not take long, and she gave way to a newborn son. Laying exhausted, 'disaster' struck at the worst of times. The floor began to rumble and shake, stones shifted, and the great doors from which they entered were shadowed.
Entering the Great Temple was nothing other then the guardian in which called it home. A dragon of immense stature, scales as black as the night sky, shimmering like stars on a clear night. The beast glanced to those whom had taken safety here, then to the being who had drawn it's attention. The squalling youth bound and swaddled in the lynx's mother arms. Holding it close to her, she dipped her head, honored by having their ancestors in their presence. Followed by the rest of the tribe, worshipping one of the children of their deities: the dragons.
The great beast whispered words in a tongue long forgotten, to which the elder transcribed directly to the mother to which it spoke. All was near impossible to decipher, but these words rang clear. "The newborn... Darkfang of Nemain..." the words could have meant anything to those that listened, but the message was clear to them. Naming the child Nemain Darkfang, the youth's birth was a prophetic vision that glory and honor was about to return to the Al Abassi Union.
The great beast that granted them it's presence would never be seen again, leaving as quickly as it had came.
Ambitious Youth, Potential UnlockedEdit
The youth grew up as most other Al Abassi did. Albeit, the eyes of the elders were upon him, and each member of the Al Abassi Union had heard of the events pretaining to his birth that day. The one gifted a name directly from the Great Beasts themselves. No higher an honor could have been given. Rowdy, friendly, and compassionate, Nemain was popular with his peers. Wise beyond his years, Darkfang sought out knowledge deeper then what the eye could see.
Raised to believe as the Al Abassi did, Nemain's pride swelled knowing that his birth was prophetic. That his very name meant Glory to the Ancient Spirits. Nothing could have made youthful Al Abassi happier then to know his very existance was bringing joy to his culture.
Despite the efforts of a few others, Nemain would accept no coddling, and the tribes would frequently seek to punish him for acts too childish for someone of his standing. Prohibited from enjoying the simpler things in life, the Al Abassi watched with care as the lynx grew restless with a basic existance. Innate skill and power was born into this youth, and the magical masters within the Union sensed the potential that he held. Granting him a release from this agitation, they offered him a hand in unlocking his powers.
To become a Black Mage. The grand masters of black magic within the Five Tribes came to Nemain. Each would give him a tenure, several years training under the each of them. Without parents, without friends or family. Seperating himself from his own wants, Nemain bowed to the wishes of the Al Abassi elders. Granting his family and tribe honor, but sacrificing forevermore a simple life.
Nemain began his journey, but not before the Tribal Leader carved and forged a blade fit for a king. Telling the magical mentors that would cultivate Darkfang's power to withhold this weapon from him till the time was right. Little did he know, this blade was carved in the likeness of the Fallen Nature Prophet of old.
Traveling the World, Yevon InterestEdit
It did not take long for Nemain to grow up, using the magical arts at a young age, Nemain was known to send showers of fire and form frigid winds at his beck and call. The Elders knew that training Darkfang in the Old Ways of Black Magic was something that he would take to. The prophecied youth wielded magic at his finger tips, and his potential grew each day. His Al Abassi masters never once allowing Nemain to grow calus or dull, always challenging him. Allowing him to complete the rites of his own accord when the time had came.
Traveling the world, Nemain met many different cultures and people. Speaking and having the honor of even visiting the likes of Cinquleur. However, the likes of this rising mage city was not fit for followers of the Old Way and Nemain's gifts and talents, no matter the skill in, was overlooked and passed over.
Nemain never stopped training, becoming stronger and stronger in the elemental arts. This tireless desire to become the redemption of his people, to reignite their power in the world was unburdened. During his travels, Darkfang would duel many others in order to estimate his power, and to grow stronger through defeats, to which he would have.
On this sojourn, Nemain would gain thirty years in age. No longer the youth he used to be. However, his talents with magic were still finite. He lacked imagination, lacked the deeper understanding. An expert with black magic, and wielding the Old Ways with prowess, it was still not enough for the prophesied son, feeling a sense of deep loss and confusion. Believing that the Great Beasts were supposed to be guiding him on his every step, that something had to be wrong, Nemain believed it was time to speak with the leaders of faith themselves, at Bevelle. Those with the wisdom, those that would not tell him what he wanted to hear.
Nemain wanted to hear the truth behind what his destiny was, and what was impeding him.
Tragedy Strikes, Crusader's WrathEdit
On the journey to Bevelle, something happened that Nemain and his five guardians could never have predicted. Peace had lasted for too long, and the cycle of Spira was running it's course. Nemain was paid up close the sheer intensity of the brutality of the power of Sin. Nemain and his entarouge had been passing through the streets of a larger populated city in Damcyan. The towers fell, buildings collapsed, screams were heard from all around.
And as the beast seemed to make it's leave, it soon turned around for another onslaught.
Nemain had never seen such carnage. This Great Beast was destroying everything, innocent or not. It was a demon. Despite his best efforts, Nemain could save no lives that day, nor could he even help the citizens deter the damage that the leviathan was causing each attack. For the second time in his life, Nemain Darkfang, the prodigal son... felt helpless. To this horrible manifestation, they were lambs to the slaughter. Insects that paled in comparison.
Barely escaping with their lives, he and his masters sought refuge in the wilderness for the following days. Each night Nemain would watch in abstract horror as a Great Beast struck down city after city, lighting up the sky with plumes of ash and red embers. Tears escaping his eyes, this creature could no more be a respected deity then a murderer could be a morale person. Speaking with his masters, he asked for guidance on the matter, hoping to know why one of their Ancestors was comitting this process of mass murder.
They told him nothing more then that this creature was Ceh, a powerful Great Beast that sought to purge the world of corruption. But from what they told him, Nemain realized they were saying that every life that the beast took, was for the good. That Ceh the Purifier was cleansing the world of evil? That every child that was slain was some abhorant creature meant to die? Darkfang could no longer follow his beliefs blindly. And as he looked to the growing clouds, formed of smoke and despair, he knew that a new path must be taken.
With the images of the massacres and the knowledge that the Al Abassi religion was wrong, he left his masters in the darkness of night, his only companion the ensueing Calm.
Nemain traveled by himself to to the city of Bevelle in the nation of Troia. Making his way through Fabul, he sought answers, hopefully leading him to justice and redemption for believing such lies that his elders had purposed. Seeking the truth was soon met, and Nemain would speak to the priesthood of Yevon, directly at Bevelle. Meeting him, and despite the rift between their cultures and race, they knew of the title of Darkfang, the alleged saviour to be of the Al Abassi. Greeting him with respect, he sat down with him, speaking of the belief that the rest of Spira followed. That Ceh, Sin was a monster in which was spawned due to their transgressions. And that once these trangressions were surpassed with reptenence, that a hero would arise and defeat Sin once and for all.
Nemain listened with intentful ear, realizing that this creature only chose to attack because of the likes of men's egotism, and the use of the dreaded Machina.
With the priests finishing the tale, Darkfang decided upon his next path. Realizing that the beliefs of the Al Abassi had fallen sway to corruption, and they would one day need correcting. That he was still going to be the hero of his people, but in order to do this... he needed to mark his next decision. To master his powers, gain truth, and to prove to his people that this Ceh was nothing as they imagined.
For now, his destiny and life lay in the hands of the Yevon, and he kneeled to them, asking for guidance. Pleading for nothing more then a place to begin self realization.
His pleas were met by one of the embodiments of the Yevon Faith, Lady Yunalesca. A woman of unparalleled beauty, majestic, with white hair as fine as silk, a body as rapturous as heaven itself. Nemain kept his face down, preventing his gaze from meeting this goddess' own. Raising her hand, she beckoned for him to stand. Following her gesture, gentle and kind, she smiled to him. "Your journey shall begin here, Here is your destiny."
These words would be the last he would hear from the master summoner in many years. Taking his bow, he left the Temple with new goals, a new mindset, and many thoughts. Nemain would train in Bevelle for many years, under the tutelage of the Yevon Priesthood, he exchanged his beliefs of his race for the priesthood itself. As well, Nemain would surpass the stunted block with his magical talents that had prevented him from achieving more power in these years. Joining the likes of the Crusaders, those that fought with the zealous rage to defeat Sin and bring Eternal Calm.
Never had Nemain felt alive, till now. Fully matured, he now understood his direction in life. Doubt no longer plagued him, from here on... the prodigal son pathed a road to glory, but not for just the Al Abassi. But for all of Spira.
Ascension to MaesterEdit
Over the years, Nemain rested easy in Troia, learning under the masters of the Yevon faith. Obtaining training from Black Mages that called Bevelle home, or traveled through... it wasn't long before Nemain could he himself be amidst their ranks. Displaying power like no other, Darkfang was able to display his skill with the elements, calling the aether and energy of pyreflies into a perfect manifesitation in which he could draw power from, and fight alongside in battle. An Elemental Entite. A source of power, and a construct to aid him. Nemain drove his abilities to the limits, straining his health, it was not uncommon to find Nemain exhausted and resting in one of the temples.
However, his time in the peaceful nation of Troia was not too last. His tenures of enlightment were over, and Nemain left the lands with a happy heart, knowing he had many a friend in these lands, and that he had something to believe in since first going to Bevelle.
Leaving onward to other cities within Troia, Nemain took on the role of a wandering Crusader, battling alongside other Yevonites against any Al Bhed they could come across. Traveling alone, or with others, Darkfang did not care, and he took his time making his way to the nation of islands. Fighting beasts, engaging with creatures of worth in a battle, even challenging the likes of several summoners in order to prove his abilities were on par with even the strongest mages.
Darkfang was even known to dabble in Blitzball on his last days before making contact with the Fabul government.
With letters and recommendations directly from Bevelle, Nemain gained an immediate spot within the Fabul military, gaining the rank of corporal, he quickly ascended the ranks. And with Troia's focus being strength, Nemain did not displease. Strong willed, and more then capable of taking on a carde of foes by himself, he pressed onward, acceling into the ranks.
In a few shorts years of dedication and tireless persistence, Darkfang became the Commander-In-Arms of the Troia Offensive Divisions, obtaining placement as a tactician general soon after. Leading the people of Fabul into a new mindset. That the next time Sin revealed himself, and if he attacked, that they would bring the battle to him. Creating a defense network, Nemain sought to fashion magical spells that would allow the Fabul military to use guerilla tactics to their finest. Implamenting these against any incursions over the years, Nemain numerously put down all those who threatened Troia.
And no matter what occured, Darkfang never faltered from his beliefs. Knowing all too well that once the Calm was over, that the beast would appear again. He would be ready. For his devotion, his skills, and his undying faith, the Council of Yevon gave the title of Maester to him, granting him the ability to spread his beliefs to his people. He was the forerunner of his people now... and he would finally be able to pull them under his call.
Sending out word, Nemain gave messages to the Al Abassi Union, telling them of a new belief. That they would not have to abandon their own religion, but that the Elders were wrong. That Ceh was nothing good, that he was an embodiment of chaotic evil, meant to renew a cycle of pain. Accumulating popularity also meant that Nemain faced a lot of prejudice from many of his own people, however, this detriment was nothing to the next generations of the Al Abassi, and they took to the ideals he set forth to them.
The Yevon faith had spread to his people. The Al Abassi were now being pulled under his control. And to Nemain, they would be one of the greatest armies to face Sin in battle.
Dark Truth, Calm DiesEdit
Now far in his years, Nemain felt his body at it's finest. In his prime, he was never more sharp, strong, or cunning then he had ever been. Wise beyond his years, always seeking the truth beyond all else.
Being called back to Bevelle for a meeting between the Maesters, it was the final step in his journey into enlightment. The cold, and bitter truth behind the cycle, The Final Summoning, and the reason for the very Yevon Faith itself was revealed to him. Nothing was spared to him, and Darkfang was shocked to hear the details of how Sin could never be defeated.
Shocking the Maester of the Al Abassi, he couldn't lose hope just because of this... however, he knew, that just like the other Maesters around him, that the knowledge he now had of the truth and falsehoods could not be shared. Lest the world dive into chaos and be submerged into depression without recovery.
Thoughts brewed within him, and Nemain knew that things were changing. His perspective was finally clear, and he refused to become addled like his fellows had. They had fallen to the depression they wished to hold back. It wasn't something he would live down like they did. No... he wouldn't sit here collecting dust like them, letting time go by with nothing changing.
Innocents would continue to die, cycles could go on forever without change. Darkfang refused to be another falsehood like they had.
His faith in the Yevon was not snuffed out. On the contrary, he never felt more empowered by his beliefs. He would be able to bring them out of their stupor. Formulating ideas, Nemain Darkfang, the prodigal son, expert in Black Magics, member of the Maester Council would bring a new plan to the table. A plan to remove the threat of Sin once and for all.
Not to destory it for a finite period of time. But to wield it's power... and purge all evil from the world so that it may finally leave their world.
The desire of all of Spira. The end of the Cycle... of Sin itself.
|Spell Name||Description||Learning Process|
|Will o' the Wisp||Complete|
Scythe of the Fallen ProphetEdit
The scythe of his ancestor, the original Nature Prophet wielded, eventually using it's powers to slay and absorb the energies many Eidolon and Dragons. The thirst he had for power was like no other, and the scythe was a symbol of a dark age. Passed on through the generations, the Al Abassi kept it as a relic. Prophesying that the only person in which would wield this legendary weapon would be the saviour of their very people. A poetic vision, in which finally came true when Nemain was born.
On his journey back to his people, and after the successful converting, the tribal elders gave Nemain his ancestors blade at long last.
The scythe itself never dulls, sharp and wicked looking, it's edges and razor sharp sheen are reknowned throughout his race, feared for it's power, the blade is dyed a light black from the many times it had been soaked with the bloody of spirits. The hilt perfectly molded to fit the hands of it's master.
The weapon itself is a symbol, but it's power truly comes from it's magical attributes. After being used to slay so many creatures of pure magic, it obtained these unnatural abilities.
- Increased Magical Damage
Filled with the fury of hundreds of Eidolons, the fury of the Scythe continually surges the user with increased control over their spells. This enhanced manipulation allows Nemain to vastly increase the damage of his spells. Turning the scales of battle in a moment.
As for it's magical beginnings, the blade still calls for the blood of magical creatures, of this world or not. The blade fills it's user with a thirst for their souls. To carve into the flesh of Aeon and Eidolon alike, feeding it and it's master more power. Nemain holds this temptation back with a strong will, honed with the belief that this evil weapon can be used to one day fight and destroy Sin. The weapon itself allows the user to pierce the armor and defenses of beasts, fiends, and any other creature in Spira, Feymarch, or Ivalice. The tragedy of this weapons actions are reknowned even to monsters, and it exudes an aura of dominating fear, causing most sentient and non-sentient beasts to instinctually fear the weapon, bringing as much distance as possible between them and it's edge.
- Magic Absorption
Nemain feels that blade's ebbing heartbeat is sated by magical properties, giving it a quasi-sentience. Knowing well that it's power can not be quelled, nor it's hunger quenched; he wields it for but a sole reason. It's ability to siphon magical attacks and convert them into pyreflies. These pyreflies feed Nemain the power he desires for additional spells. The amount of energy that the Scythe can absorb is strong enough to completely stop tier 2 spells of many schools. Only inhibiting a portion of the damage a tier 3 spell could cause.
"With the death of a dream, brings life to reality. We finally understand the truth of the world that we live in, and in this world, we are all pieces playing an important part. All cogs turning together to forge our world. But understanding that all cogs can be removed, changed, or given a new purpose... it forever shifts the prespective. If we can not control a dream, but yet, we control reality: then what happens if we can not control where our lives are going?"
"Fear not, my people. The faith of the Yevon is whole and true! For countless generations, we have been lead to believe the lies of the Old Path! The belief that certain horrors out there, are Great Beasts! Well you have been blinded, mistaken, and duped! Your elders seeks to hold you back with the shackles of falsehood! I know the truth, and if you follow me, you too shall realize your utmost potential, and never again shall the Al Abassi be forced to seclude themselves in the wilderness! We now become a part of the world, follow me now my Tribe! Follow me!!!!" (This rally was soon met by cheers and battle cries).
Nemain Darkfang is the descendent of the Fallen Nature Prophet: Darkfang, who committed the greatest atrocity admist their race, killing a Great Beast and absorbing it's blood and power. However, the act lead to his eventual destruction and the seperation of their race from the others. Even the scythe that Nemain wields is the same that Darkfang wielded to kill the dragon and many others. In theory, one could say the Nemain is the reincarnation of Darkfang himself.