So after replaying the Void Ship quest line, I decided my character went through a soul-searching moment and emerged changed. See his background, part 2, and let me know what you think!
Sicarius stared at Tomix's grave for hours. As hard as he tried to pull away, he couldn't. Not after what Danyel had said to him last week at Tomix's funeral. The sad part, Sicarius thought, is that Danyel was right. I broke my promise. He sunk to his knees and lade hold of the tomb as the tears began to roll down his face again. "Tomix...I'm so sorry...." His shoulders heaved with his sobs, his tears staining the grass beneath him. He startled as he felt a hand touch his shoulder; it was Aegis, he saw. "Sicarius," his SoulAlly said, "you can't blame yourself for this. He knew what he had to do. It was his choice." Sicarius stared at Aegis, knowing he was right but not feeling the truth of it. "I-" he fumbled. Aegis knelt down beside his best friend. "Tomix wouldn't want you to sit here and mope," he said softly. "He would want you to go save the world, like the Hero he knew you were." Sicarius looked up at his friend, a grateful expression on his face. He sniffed one last time. "You're right," he muttered. He turned back to the gravestone and laid his armor-clad hand on top of it. "He would definitely want that." Aegis smiled. "Let's go," he said.
That night, Sicarius stood in his armor room at his small castle in the Sandsea. Morte, his dragon, was asleep in his cave down below, but sleep could not find this Death Knight. Not tonight. Sicarius opened his armor closet, magically enchanted by Warlic to hold an infinite amount of gear and materials. Stepping inside, he saw racks and racks of equipment and armor: Guardian, Dragon Lord, Warrior, Riftwalker, Ranger. He walked to the back, finally coming across what he had been searching for. In the "back" of the closet lay a small, blackish brown chest, about the length of someone's forearm. Picking it up, Sicarius left the closet and shut it behind him. He lay the box on one of his shelfs and then turned to his full-body mirror. He looked at himself, up and down. He knew that many people, even his own allies, still had reservations about him. He was, after, a Death Knight. If the black armor did not frighten them, his gaunt face and glowing eyes did. He looked down at his ring on his left hand, the ring given to him by Sir Malifact seven years ago. "It's time for a change," he said to himself. He moved his right hand slowly to the ring, grasping it tightly, and immediately turned around as he sensed a presence, no two presences, in the room. He looked around, examine the shadows; his cursed sword formed in his hand out the air. "Whoever you are," he challenged, "show yourself!" Instantly, as if from thin air, two figure emerged, and he knew them both. One was the ghost Sir Malifact, his old teacher as a Death Knight, and the other...was Danyel, Tomix's older brother.
"Lower your weapon, my old pupil," the ghost rasped. "We have not come to fight." Sicarius's sword vanished back into nothingness as he eyed Danyel cautiously. "I'm not exactly sure why, or how, you've both come in the first place." Malifact laughed. "Well," he said through a smile, "I am a ghost, and I can go were I please! As for my Weaving associate here..." Danyel stepped forward. "I am the headmaster of the school of Weavers at Edelia," he said. "I did not earn that title because of the look of my Spirit Looms." Sicarius stood straighter. "Fair enough," the Hero said. "But why are you both in my home, and how do you know each other?" Malifact answered. "Because we are both connected to you, and we sensed your distress...and your decision." The Hero's eyes darted between the two figures, his right hand beginning to call his sword back to him. "What do you mean, exactly?" "You wear my ring," the ghost answered. "This allows me to receive...impressions of you. I sensed your agony over your friend's death, and I also sensed your determination to honor him." Sicarius looked over at Danyel. "What about you?" he asked. "How are you involved?" Danyel raised his eyes to meet Sicarius. "Tomix bound our souls together when you both came to me for help with your ship," he said flatly. "The rest is as same as this ghost said." Sicarius was still, unsure of what to do next. "So...what do you both want?" The two figures answered in unison: "To help you."
The Hero wasn't sure what to say. "To...help me do what?" Malifact laughed again. Even as a ghost, he still had his sense of humor. "You honestly think we didn't know what you intended? You were about to remove the ring you have worn for seven years; the ring that granted you the powers of a Death Knight without turning you into an undead monster." Danyel jumped in. "And after that, you were going to put on your old Spirit Looms and attempt to weave for the first time in nine years." Sicarius thought about denying this, but decided against it. "Alright, fine. I was. So what?" Malifact's face changed from humor to concern. "You have no idea what that change can do to you." "What do you mean?" he asked. Danyel began to explain, care filling his voice. "Being a Death Knight for so long as altered your physical makeup. It has fundamentally changed you in ways you can't realize. If you remove that ring, that seven year process will be undone in a matter of minutes. Add that to attempting to put on Spirit Looms, which also affect your soul, could destroy your mind...or kill you." Sicarius was speechless. He looked back in the mirror, eyeing himself. "So...your're saying I'm stuck this way?" Malfiact responded. "You would be, without us. Which is why we're hear." The Hero looked at them both. "You mean-" Danyel answered quickly, tears in his eyes as his voice began to choke. "Sicarius, I'm sorry for what I said at his funeral. It wasn't your fault. I know what you want to do, and I want to help." The Hero looked over at the ghost. "And you?" The dead Knight's eyes lit up. "You were my favorite pupil," he said wistfully. "Now, it's time you become your own person again." Sicarius grinned. "So," he said, "what do we do?"
Almost immediately, the two figures began to move into action. Danyel's white robe disappeared as his hands began to weave threads in various patterns. Malifact began to whisper incantations under his breath. Danyel spoke as he work. "We're going to perform a ritual that will alter your soul's makeup. It's going to transfer all of your knowledge as a Death Knight into Weaving knowledge. Basically, it will be as if your body was weaving the entire time you were a Death Knight." He went back to work, weaving intricate patterns. Sicarius could feel his soul begin to tug, his whole body edging forward the symbol. The closer he got, the faster Malifact began to chant. Danyel's hands slowed to a stop, his right arm extend up, palm down, and his left arm extended down, palm up. "Are you ready?" he asked Sicarius. The Hero of Lore looked in the mirror and eyed his deathly face again. He looked back at Danyel. "Do it." Danyel's hands clasped together in a smack, Malifact's voice reached a crescendo, and Sicarius fell to the floor and knew nothing else.
Morte, Sicarius's dragon, stretched his legs. He had slept...good. Better than he had in a long time, in fact. He reached out his mind to find his bonded partner. His head immediately shot up. Something was wrong, he thought. He flew out of his cave, shrinking from his adult form to his teenage size. He flew up the stairs, around the corner of the hallway, up the second flight, into the armor room. He looked around the room and scanned it for his partner. There! On the floor! But something made Morte stop. That's when he realized it: his partner was..different. His face looked healthy, less skeleton-like. And his Death Knight that had almost become his second skin was gone. It in place, his partner was wearing a robe with a fur-lined hood, with black boots on his feet. That's when Morte noticed his hands. He was wearing...no, Morte thought. it can't be! After all this time! He dropped to the ground to check on his partner. Slowly, with some nudging, Sicarius began to stir. His head raised as he noticed his friend on his chest, eyeing him. No, not him, Sicarius realized. His friend was scanning Sicarius's eyes. Sicarius grinned. "I guess I have some explaining to do, don't I?" Morte laughed sarcastically. You could say that! Your face...your eyes...your hands! Sicarius slowly stood up to check himself in the mirror. He couldn't believe his eyes. He looked...alive! His eyes were a normal blue, his face was plumb. Then he noticed his arms. His looms...they were different. He began to think to himself why that would be, and he was instantly flooded with knowledge. As if I had been weaving for seven years, he thought to himself. He turned to Morte. "Aegis is going to love this," his dragon quipped.