Finally got a picture to go with the character, so posting my entry for  gluepaw's RPG contest http://wwwfuraffinitynetjournal6717623. An evil doppelganger of Crosis, re-imagined in a D&D/RPG setting!

Name- Nekrosis

Species- Canine: Border Collier/Fire Spirit

Origins- Elemental

Class- Monk

Weapons- A tungsten walking staff, his fists and flames

Armour- None, but can alter his fur into volcanic diorite for protection

Strategies- Upon entering combat, Nekrosis attacks relentlessly, utilizing his speed to immediately close the distance with his foes. He often channels his power into his staff, heating it by thousands of degrees until it glows white. For more nimble foes, he forms diorite over his limbs to turn his hands into jagged blades and bludgeons.

But like any fire, he quickly loses control. As the battle grows longer and more desperate, his powers intensify of their own accord. His blood turns molten, his breath becomes steam. Soon, a nimbus of superheated air forms around him, igniting anything and everything in range. Should he fail to regain control, the hellfire consumes his body, leaving his spirit adrift and helpless until it can regain physical form.


Bio- It began as little more than a guttering ember, a spirit barely clinging to life. For centuries it drifted upon the searing winds of the Elemental Plane of Fire, feeding on what energy it could find, avoiding subsumption by the larger and more powerful elementals.

But then, something stirred. The planar energy thickened, drawing smoke and flames and magma into a burgeoning whirlpool pattern. The spirit was drawn closer, lured by the growing quantities of sustenance. The pattern's center condensed further, its pull strengthening. The spirit became caught in the current, spinning about in frantic rhythm as smaller eddies whirled into being and were dragged back into the vortex.

And then, the whirlpool's center collapsed. With a fearsome, inward tug, the spirit was dragged through.

It emerged to find itself trapped within a prison of flesh and blood. The energies of its native plane continued to sweep past it like a river towards some unknown destination. Content, it glutted itself upon what scraps of power it could catch from the flow. Bit by bit, it gained strength, its formless presence expanding through the body which kept it sealed. And with this strength came awareness. In time, the presence became awareness. Awareness became intelligence. Intelligence became sentience. And then, amidst the jumbled chaos of its host's memories, the spirit began to learn.

The fledgling consciousness delved greedily into the mind of its host. What it found were treasures beyond reckoning. Things it had never known, had been incapable of knowing. Sights and sounds! Touches and tastes! Memories and knowledge! The spirit was enthralled, overwhelmed.

Crosis. That was this creature's name. Again and again the spirit viewed the progression of his life: An innocent childhood, spent fighting and frolicking amongst his siblings, safe and nurtured in the love of his parents. The gradual journey from boy into man, and the adventures experienced along the way.

Burgeoning emotions took hold, chief among them desire. Desire for what it saw, but did not possess. The sight of freshly driven snow gleaming in the sunlight, the taste of an apple plucked ripe from the tree, the touch of a woman's lips, the sound of voices laughing, singing, crying. These wants soon coalesced into a single, desperate goal. To have a life of its own.

But without a history or sense of self, the spirit began to adopt its host's life as its own. In time it believed that it was, that it had always been Crosis.

Now all that remained was a living body. Gathering its strength, the spirit merged its essence with Crosis. It expected wonder, but all it found was pain. Crosis was in agony. The planar energy seared through him, healing magics repairing the damage in an endless cycle. His body was weak; ravaged by malnourishment and torpor. His thoughts were scattered, blanketed by a fog of pain and turmoil.

What it saw through Crosis' eyes were robed figures hidden in shadows. What it heard were droned chants and distant screams. What it felt was the cold bite of steel shackles around his limbs.

The spirit soon learned that its host was a prisoner, a spoil of war taken in the pillaging of a neighboring kingdom. Among the captors was an order of pyromancers, who sought to bolster their powers with the very essence of fire itself. Using Crosis' body as a dimensional anchor, the mages opened a channel to the Elemental Plane and siphoned its power into themselves.

Day after day, the members of the order would file past, drawing energy from Crosis' body like rusty wires pulled through his veins. The spirit could only watch, sharing Crosis' rage and anguish as they were tormented.

But something happened that the mages and the spirit did not expect. By merging itself with Crosis, it had spread thin. With each siphoning, the spirit's essence fragmented. The mages unwittingly absorbed these pieces along with the planar energy, becoming new vessels for the elemental. It was soon removed from Crosis entirely, spread out amongst two score individuals.

No longer bound to Crosis, deprived of the body and memories it saw as its own, it was freed from pain, flush with power, and consumed by rage.

Time passed, and war broke once more upon the land. Confident in their power, the order of mages joined the battle. When it felt them drawing upon the stolen power, the spirit knew its time had come. It reached out amongst its scattered hosts, seeking the core of planar energy within their breasts and setting it blaze.

Explosions rocked the battlefield as the pyromancers burst into massive, roaring flames. Allies and enemies alike were incinerated at once, their ashes swirling in the wind and scattering over the terrified survivors. The fires leapt and twisted like a nest of fiery snakes, immolating everything in their path. It burned for days, an inferno that neither water nor earth nor time could extinguish.

The spirit endured, nestled safely within each dancing flame. Seeking to rebuild, it slowly drew together the vast stores of power the mages had foolishly sought to hoard. Whole once more, the spirit set to work. It recalled the only form it had ever known, the body that it desired over all else. The planar energy twisted and transmuted around it, reforming into a material base. With a deafening hiss, the flames collapsed into a pile of glowing ashes.

Guided only by sheer will and desire, the spirit toiled on. The ashes stirred as something moved from within. Bleached white and mottled with ash, a canine skeleton emerged from the pile. Muscles and sinew wrapped around bone, organs formed, blood pulsed through arteries and veins. The last traces of ash vanished into the pristine white fur, and two golden eyes opened to behold the world for the first time.

It tried to move, working the unfamiliar limbs as best it could remember from what remained of the memories. Whose memories?

It could not recall. Its knees buckled, and it collapsed back to the charred earth. The second try was better. It managed to stand on the third.

It looked across the barren landscape with all the confusion and wonder of a newborn pup. It took a small, tentative step on clumsy legs. Its mind raced feverishly. Who was it? Broken images and sounds passed behind its eyes. It saw someone, perhaps itself, standing tall and proud. A voice echoed in its mind.

Its gait steadied. Its memories were still broken and unclear, but with the sun in its eyes and wind ruffling its fur, all it felt was joy. At long last, it was alive.

A smile on his lip, the white dog departed the smouldering battlefield, leaving only burning footprints in his wake.

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Nekrosis belongs to me

Art by  lovelyshibe