An unusual knight of few words
Tall, lanky, his gaze always drifting. Clad in cheap soldier issue armor, slow moving and slower to conflict. As opposed to the knights usual sword and shield, Xitra carries nothing but a solid staff with metal clasps on either end.
A dark cloud follows him as he travels, or maybe it just appears that way.
A run of the mill paladin in life, the need to do good and help others became overwhelming and exhausting. Passion turned to apathy, and then to resentment, eventually leading to his death.Artix awakes from death in a paladin grave yard, flesh missing from his bones with a horde of other mindless skeletons staring back at him. Pushing through them with a large staff, a man in a cloak steps forward to greet him. His old training takes over and he leaves the graveyard alone, with nothing but a mismatched set of armor pulled off the corpses, a tattered cloak around his shoulders, and a blood stained staff.
Now in undeath, Artix has taken a new name. Xitra now wanders the land, searching to repent.