Izcadella Noxxa

[Izcadella Noxxa]

Izcadella

Lilith

Noxxa

ScRaTcH tHe SuRfAcE

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Do you dare look beyond?

First Name: Izcadella
Alias/Nickname: Wither/Lady Decay, Iz
Surname: Noxxa
Titles: Former assassin of King Hiraos Fonfala; now one of the fabled Thirteen Councillors of Glendenvale, a secret group of elite women assassins and soldiers, feared for their terrible powers and magics. Although not an official title, Izcadella has also been labeled "Lady Decay" by the Ardentian Empire, who fear her and the other Councillors of Thirteen.
Age: Should be 49, but: Izcadella, although a normal human, in cosmetic matters at least, has discovered in the past 18 years that her body does not age as it should, so she retains her youthfull beauty, if not innocence or purity.
Age Appearance: 31
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Height:5'7
Weight: 146 lbs.
Birthdate: December 20
Marital Status: Izcadella has learned the hard lessons of relationships in the worst way imaginable: she suffered a miscarriage. Vowing to remain celebate the day after the medical Magi pulled the lifeless corpse out of her womb, Izcadella is certainly not going to be looking for a spouse.
Picture: ~Click~

BeHiNd ThE mAsK

Is life not just a deadly game?

Physical Description:The thing that attracts people to Izcadella’s side is usually her eyes. True, her raven hair shines in the moonlight, true that her skin, in its vampire-like paleness, is almost perfect porcelain, but it is her eyes, the two inky pools of charcoal, that draw victims closer to Wither’s deadly embrace. When stared into, Izcadella’s irises almost appear to be… shifting, jumping from one color to the next in a dance throughout the spectrum of light. These multi-colored irises entrance the viewer, although not in the way a Demon or Vampire seduces an unwary human. Her other features also possess an almost supernatural beauty. As mentioned above, Wither’s raven hair, usually lying in a midnight pool by her shoulders, is silky smooth to the touch, and smells like the deadly fragrances of belladonna and nightshade, giving the smeller a taste of the dangers soon to befall him.

Wither possesses the thin lips of the Noxxa family, those that meet in a hard line whenever Iz gets angry, which, unfortunately, is often. Her nose is a delicate thing, one that curves in all the right places, and has a touch of feline in it. Her arms and legs are pale as porcelain, unblemished, except for a small tattoo of a grinning skull on her left forearm. However, this mark is usually covered by her sleeves. However, amidst Iz’s perfect features, her ears and her hands stand out, mocking her with their imperfection. With her ears, the fact that they are tapered infuriates Wither, making her wish to tear them from her face. To add insult to injury, they are wrinkled and crone-like, a black sheep among Izcadella’s otherwise perfect face. Her hands are also a cause of great disdain, for instead of the flawless skin displayed on the rest of her body, her hands are tattooed with runes, demonic markings that just won’t come off, no matter how hard she scrubs them. And since her hands decay anything that touches them except her spider-silk gloves, which, in fact, are see-through, they do nothing to hide the markings.

Izcadella does not go far in the manner of garments. Her outfit consists mostly of black wear, with some more elegant dresses for balls and parties. Her clothes are spun out of spider-silk, which, like her dagger, cannot be destroyed by her inhuman touch. Her normal, everyday wear consist of a simple black dress, with black sleeves to cover her tattoo.

Most recently however, Izcadella has discarded the garments that seek to negate her deadly touch: after becoming a member of the secret Thirteen, she decided that hiding her gift was no longer necessary. It would seem she has no qualms about killing, even less so than before. Also, Izcadella has suffered with the war of 18 years, and many nicks and bruises litter the once flawless skin. However, I do not reccomend commenting on it.

Personality: To the unwary onlooker, Izcadella Noxxa looks like the perfect example of a mother's dream. She appears to be sweet, pretty, modest, innocent, pure, charming, gentle, kind, and most importantly sweet-tempered. Unfortunately, Izcadella Noxxa, otherwise known as Wither is none of these things. In fact, Iz is a ruthless killer with no morals, compassion, or regret for the terrible deeds she has committed. Not only is Wither almost unaware of all the deaths she has brought, but she doesn’t' even seem to care about the amount of mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, husbands, or wives she has decayed to grave-dirt.

Wither also displays arrogance the size of Dustanova itself. She does not accept help in any of her kills, nor does she accept any type of help at all; except of course, if that person has something to offer her. If confronted with a flaw about her person, Izcadella's only course of action is to kill the offender and replace him or her with someone who will not point out her weaknesses. Some might call Wither crazy; some might be correct. Her intellectual abilities, combined with the anxiety and loss of never touching another living being has driven Izcadella almost clear out of her mind. She loses control of herself at the most terrible of times, putting herself and all those around her in jeopardy. Some might diagnose Izcadella with multiple-personality disorder. However, this is not the case. Wither does not have two different psyches, one with respect for life, and another without it. Instead, Wither only has one personality: one that hates all living things. Her "other” personality is merely a trick, a charade to fool the people her clients have hired her to kill. Instead, Wither suffers from a strain of an impulse-control disorder; however, not in the traditional sense, where she is unable to control her words. Instead, in the presence of someone she is supposed to kill, Izcadella cannot restrain herself from killing. Although she sometimes seems to enjoy it, her mind is really in turmoil, repulsed by what it has become.

Wither, although almost fully insane, can keep her calm much longer in stressful situations than a normal human can. Also, even when she loses her thoughts to “the Kill-sense” as she calls it, her inhuman intelligence is still active, and this is when Wither is most deadly.

After becoming a member of the Council of Thirteen, Izcadella seemed to lose all inhibitions with killing, and so fourth became more ruthless, even in ordinary conversation. Her words almost never uplift, and she is always determined to tear down her fellow Councillors with her dry wit.

MaDnEsS bEhInD tHe MeThOd

Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moon light?

Magic: Magic: Izcadella was once blessed with the human gift of healing, the talent of soothing wounded minds or injuries with a touch. However, her purity, her innocence attracted ruin, and the hands once used to heal were turned to other purposes. Izcadella, now known as Wither, has the curse of decay. Whatever she lays her hands upon withers into dust, and falls to the ground like ashes. Izcadella’s curse can also manifest itself into rays or bolts, which she can hurl at her enemies (or an innocent passerby) from afar. Even her footsteps, (since she wears no shoes) leave smoldering prints of dead vegetation where life once flourished. And with a gift like Izcadella’s, death comes plentifully. Izcadella marks her victims after each kill: a grave of black leaves is fitting for all who decay under Wither’s touch.

In the 18 years following Izcadella's life as an assassin, she developed a more subtle gift, one that helped her as equally as her of decay: she discovered that she had a photographic memory, and one that could memorize information, details, or names in an instant.

Strengths:Izcadella, although devoid of her once pure gift, has retained her almost inhuman intelligence, making her a tactical genius on the scale of the Elves’ Prince Harliven Darkshine. Worse yet, Wither uses Glendenvale’s masochist attitude to her advantage: she puts on an act of dowdy unintelligence in front of the men of her small town, and when their guard is down, she strikes, like a shadow in the night. Izcadella has also mastered her gift of decay, making her as deadly as a fully-armored Demon with nothing but her bare hands. She also appears to feed on negative emotions, like hatred or fear. They make her stronger and her already deadly gift even more potent.

Weaknesses: Although Wither grows stronger in the presence of negative emotions, she grows considerably weaker when confronted with positive emotions like love, happiness, or kindness. When around people experiencing these sickeningly good-intentioned emotions, Izcadella becomes increasingly weak and tired, not to mention irritable. Her power becomes increasingly straining on her energy stores, causing her terrible pain if she uses her terrible gift. She also has an aversion to light, though nothing on the scale of a Vampire. Bright light hurts her eyes, and she gets sunburned faster than you could possibly imagine.

Weapons: Although preferring to fight with her words or her deadly appendages, Izcadella realized she needed to take up a weaponscraft to ensure her success in kills in which she was too tired to use her gift, or otherwise impaired. At first, the Lady Decay took up daggers as her sole weapon, but, after a disastrous show in the long-forgotten Champion of the Realm competition, she realized she needed something more... versatile. Consulting the weaponsmasters of Glendenvale, she was referred to Liam Lionblade, one of the many masters of swordplay. After many frustrating attempts at finding a sword that would not crumble under her touch, she soon went back to her original method of crafting weaponry: using caged human souls she collected from an unknown source. After many lessons with Liam that spanned two years time, Izcadella became a rather proficient swordswoman, although not on par with fighters such as the Ardentian Empire's Royal Executioner.

After her lessons were complete, she took her sword to on of the Magi that dwelt inside the palace of Glendenvale, and had him Charm it, making lightweight and more easily carriable. However, the Magi also placed a powerful enchantment on the sword, one that sought to sap the willpower of the wielder, making them lethargic and altogether more simple to defeat.

RoOt Of EvIl

It is such a quiet thing, to fall. To admit it is far more terrible.

History: The sad tale of Izcadella Noxxa begins in the human town of Arathon. The inhabitants of Arathon, mostly elderly couples, had not born a child in almost half-a-century. So, when the not-so-elderly couple of Clarissa and Laetheron conceived, the town was alight with excitement. When the child was born, and pronounced a girl, and a beautiful one as well, there was a feast in her honor, with a ceremony dedicated to the naming of the child. The proud parents named her "Izcadella" which meant "Blessed One" in the Old Tongue of the Humans. That's where the problems started.

One day later, another couple who had hidden their pregnancy, also bore a child. However, the poor village had exhausted their funds for the feast in honor of Izcadella, so the child, also a girl, had to be born under much more meager circumstances. The parents, already frustrated with each other for conceiving, hastily named the child "Sindra," which, unknown to them, meant "heretic" in the Old Tongue. Sindra, unlike Izcadella, was born plain. Then, although the two newborns were unaware of it, the seeds of dissidence were planted.

As the two children grew up, their differences continued to manifest. While Izcadella grew pretty and innocent, Sindra seemed to become less-pleasing as she aged, her face widening and thinning in the wrong places, her appendages lengthening disproportionately, and her voice becoming shrill and high-pitched. Even their magical gifts were polar opposites. Izcadella was blessed with the power of healing, making her a valued member of the small, doctor-less community. Sindra however was less fortunate. She recieved the power to see the future, but only horrible, tragic events that couldn't be changed. She was also cursed with the power of curse-giving, which meant she could make horrible things happen to people who displeased her. In this case, Izcadella Noxxa was a prime example. In the end, it was a boy that was the final straw for Sindra.

The boy that inadvertently caused Wither to become what she is today was a man by the name of Gavain Draener. Good-looking enough, he was the son of a farmer, who sought more out of life and had left the farm in search of adventure, and perhaps a wife. Stumbling into Arathon, half-dead and starving, it was Izcadella who cared for the traveler. However, it was Sindra who fell for him. Izcadella, who, in her beauty and grace, had her pick of the meager selection of men who had been born after she was, (due to an increase in visitation from younger men and women) did not fall for the traveler, and was quite content to let Sindra have her way with him. To her, he was just another patient. Unfortunately, as soon as Gavain saw the beautiful face who nursed him back to health, he was smitten. He constantly wooed Izcadella, only to have her reject his advances, just as he scorned the words from the less-attractive Sindra. Gavain, becoming increasingly frustrated with Izcadella's lack of interest, decided that force was the last resort.

It was nearing sundown, and Izcadella was just finishing with her last patient, a woman with a sore throat. Giving the now cured woman a hearty wave, Iz sat down on her stool, and breathed, long and hard. Although healing was a valuable gift, it was taxing, and this job was slowly draining away all her energy. Suddenly, the door of her small house/hospital opened, twighlight's last rays coming in. In the doorway stood the traveler who had appeared nearly a fortnight ago.

"Yes?" said Izcadella wearily, "I'm afraid I'm feeling rather tired at the moment. Could you come back tomorrow?"

The traveler, Gavain, she remembered, shook his head. "I must have you tonight." The words chilled her very bones, as did the long dagger he held in his hand. Izcadella looked around. The hospital had no weapons, not even a stick she could use to defend herself. "Stay away" she said, her voice wavering with fear.

"I don't think so" Gavain said, stepping closer, dagger held high. "You've rejected me long enough, healer. It's time I took what's mine." Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to hers.

"I said stay away!" cried Izcadella, striking with her elbow into the man's groin.

Wincing in pain, Gavain slashed at her with his knife. Izcadella ducked just in time, and the blade only managed to cut her dress, leaving a jagged line in the material. "Feisty, eh?" he said maliciously, "I like them that way." Shoving her against the wall, he was just about to lift her skirt when the door burst open.

Sindra stood there, looking heart-broken. "You knew" she whispered, "you knew, and yet you still did this. You've always been prettier, smarter, more gifted than me. You couldn't let me win, just once?"

Izcadella shook her head violently. "Sindra, no! Look, he has a knife!"

But Sindra did not listen. Her eyes were fixed on Izcadella, burning with hatred. "Let's see you heal this one" she said, rolling up her sleeves, revealing the demonic tatooes that marked her as a curse-giver. "I, Sindra Torrinh, curse Izcadella Noxxa with the curse of decay. Never again will you touch another thing, lest you wither it to ashes." Her markings began to writhe and contort. Suddenly, they flew off of Sindra's arms, coming to rest on Izcadella's hands. Izcadella screamed, as a pain unlike anything she had ever known erupted in her hands. Sindra grinned evilly.

Gavain, who had been silent throughout the entire exchange, started to back away from Sindra, bumping into Izcadella and her hands. He too opened his mouth to scream, but his voice was lost as he became a pile of bones and dust. Turning to Sindra, Izcadella raised her marked hands. Sindra's eyes widened, and she started for the door, but Izcadella was too fast. "Feel the wrath of your curse" Izcadella hissed, as she grabbed her wrist. Sindra gave a cry, but nothing happened. She remained wholesome, and fully human. In shock, Izcadella wrenched the door open, and fled into the darkening sky.

Izcadella, now calling herself Wither, wandered the forests of Glendenvale until she found a ruined house in a small glade. Inside, Wither made her home, seeking garments that could negate her destructive touch. She foraged for spider silk, which, in her studies as a healer, she knew negated all magical effects. When she found a suitable amount, she wrapped some around her hands, and went to the nearest town, where she paid a seamstress to spin the silk into a dress, and some gloves. Word traveled fast however, and she was recognized. Grabbing her garments, she had to flee the town, only resting when she was safe in her house. Then, to her amazement, people came to see her, seeking to use her touch to eliminate a lover, a rival, a master. They paid her substantial amounts, and Wither realized she could use her curse to make a profit.

In more recent times, Izcadella has become a Councillor of Thirteen, and is perhaps even more feared than before. She has also fought many battles, killed countless innocents, and had a fair amount of relationships, although most ended in tragedy, the greatest being the miscarriage of her first and last child. However, the most traumatic time of Izcadella's life occured halfway into her time as a Councillor.

Izcadella had been tracking a quarry, a Demon of the Ardentian Empire, and the trail had led to an ominous looking swamp. Stifling the little fear that remained in her heart, she took one long look at the swamp, and strode right in, silently of course, and began her search. After many wanderings, wrong turns, and dead ends, she finally found the Demon, but it appeared someone had done her work for her. The body was lying face down in a pool of murky water. Izcadella smiled, but it was forced: she had been stripped of the pleasure of the kill. Deciding that she should at least make sure the body was never discovered, she walked over to the corpse, hand outstretched to disentegrate it. Suddenly, a withered old hand came flying out of nowhere, and grabbed her wrist: and did not decay. It just hung there, holding Iz's hand in a vice-like grip. Izcadella whirled around, and came face to face with... Gavain.

"No" she whispered, "you're dead! I watched you die. I caused you to die." She said these words quickly, hoping that if she spoke swiftly, the words would become true.

Gavain shook his head, and opened his mouth to speak. "No" it said, and Izcadella flinched. The voice that came out was that of an old woman, crippled with age. "I am not Gavain, Witch of Decay. I am far older, far more powerful, and far more terrible. You have entered my stronghold, my sanctuary from this terrible war, seeking to commit the act that I despise. This Horned One has already met his fate: a fate that will soon be yours." With this, the creature gave a horrible laugh, one that sputtered nad wheezed. As the creature laughed, Izcadella felt a horrible pain in her forehead, that caused her to cry out. However, as soon as the laughter began, it stopped. A look of confusion appeared on "Gavain's" face. Words spluttered out so quickly that Izcadella could only catch snatches at a time. "You... tatoos... cursed... blocking... how?... howhowhowhow HOW?

With this final cry, the creature pushed Izcadella back into the water. "Begone!" it cried, voice full of fear, "Cursed One! Your markings perhaps negate my power, but not my wrath. Leave this place, before I end your pitiful existence."

And with a final look of fear, the creature melted into the swamp, laughing horridly all the while.

Izcadella has avoided swamps ever since.

FiN

[Meleth Darkshine]

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