Klovis was born in the city of Steel, on the continent of Jerrah some seven hundred years ago. His father was one of the Twelve Knights of St. Clovis, and his mother was a cleric of St. Cuthbert. Klovis' name was a small shift from the legendary founder of the city, as his name is considered sacred, and thus cannot be placed on a person.
As a young boy, Klovis was put through a lot more than most - his father expected him to become a skilled knight and horseman, whereas his mother wished him to be well-educated. On top of all this, Klovis was also expected to behave as fitting the son of one of the Twelve Knights, which made growing up a challenge in the extreme. As a result, he became shy and introverted, speaking rarely, a trait which has only become worse with age. He preferred martial to academic fields, which led to his education being somewhat narrow.
Once he had grown to maturity, it was expected that he would join one of the Orders of St. Clovis, more likely the Wardens, given his martial bent. However, instead of this, Klovis expressed a desire to join the Watchers instead. While he was accepted, it was found that he lacked the attention to detail and the ability to see things that were required of a Watcher, leading to him leaving the Order after just five years. Shortly after this, Klovis left the city of his birth, suddenly, leaving behind very confused parents, who, despite wanting to, for some reason could not find him. His family still believe that he had died back then, and his (empty) grave can still be found in Steel, near the High Cathedral of St. Cuthbert.
The truth, however, is much darker - Klovis was not introverted only because of the pressures put upon him. He had a secret to hide; a secret of such monumental proportions, that he had to keep his tongue tied in case he let anything slip. He had discovered this when he had just learned to read. He was curious back then - he did not yet know what purpose reading had. As he wandered through his mother's private library, he suddenly saw a book upon the table. He had never seen that book before, and did not know what purpose it could have had. Its dark cover and bale runes should have scared away any child, but Klovis was drawn to it, for a reason he could not imagine. Being barely able to read, Klovis still took the book, and began to read it.
At first, nothing made sense - nothing seemed in place. However, something compelled him to keep reading, forced his eyes to scan over each word, the meanings of which he hardly understood: undeath; torture; imprisonment; tyranny; Lixer...
As soon as he turned the last page, day had turned to night. As his tired, innocent child-eyes passed over the last word, suddenly, it was as if the world shifted. He saw, for the briefest moment, the truth of what he had read. Everything, all the horror contained within, suddenly flooded his mind, breaking any defences he may have had, and showed him that, in truth, all are slaves to death, and those who are not, are slaves to undeath. Slaves to Lixer, the True Lord of the Undead. He also knew that Lixer was watching him now, in every shadow, from every dead place, every dark place, every cold place.
As can be imagined, this was distressing to his young mind, but he knew, somewhere deep inside, that none but himself could help him. It was because of this that he threw himself into martial training and the study of religion and beings of other places and other worlds - he had to be ready for when they would come for him. He kept his eyes away from the shadows, away from the darkness, and toward the light - he had to be ready. But somewhere, deep inside, he was afraid - that when they came, he would fail.
And come for him they did. The night after his twentieth birthday, a severe storm, the likes of which Steel had never seen, struck. Klovis awoke, or rather, was awoken, at the stroke of midnight, by a cold voice in his mind. "Come. You have seen it."
Klovis stepped outside. There, in the rain, stood none other than Lixer, or rather, an image of him. Klovis was armoured and armed, but his steed was far. Nonetheless, drawing his sword, Klovis yelled that he would rather die than submit. Lixer laughed. "That is precisely what I require," he sneered "Now die quietly." One spell was all it took.
When Klovis awoke, it was still raining, more heavily this time, and Lixer was gone. He was armoured, armed, and sprawled on the ground. But he saw that, on his arms, there were cuts, shaped like letters. To his horror, he saw that his own sword was bloodied in his hand. The message was simple, but deadly, like a poison to his mind.
"Resist, and serve. Submit, and serve. That is the only truth. Shall I lead you, or shall you go willingly? Your soul is mine, for eternity."
Klovis picked himself up, rushing back to his mother's library. He knew that he had seen this before, somewhere in that volume, buried in his mind, in its deepest recesses. He had to find it again, he had to know why it was there, why it was scarred onto his arms. However, despite digging through the library for the rest of the night, he could not find what he sought. The book was no longer there.
It was that night, of which none else but him knew, that drove him to join the Watchers, as he hunted the book desperately. He had to know what this meant, why it was there that time. In his increasing desperation, he went to more and more extreme measures, resorting to acts that would have caused his expulsion from the Watchers, including torture of suspects (and eventually, innocents too), killing of hundreds, secretly, as part of a campaign of threats and blackmail against the leading scholars of Steel, and, on the day before he left, his break-in of the Inner Vaults, where too, he found nothing.
All of these crimes only came to the surface after Klovis left Steel. Outraged, the Twelve Knights and both Orders stepped up their efforts to find him, but failed. Because Lixer did not want him to be found.
As Klovis travelled, living by his wits and his lance, he became increasingly desperate to know why, and what, this message could mean. He continued, growing more and more extreme in his pursuit of his goal, and his growing frustration grew into anger and paranoiia. He began to feel that everyone knew his secret, and simply refused to tell him. As he grew more and more angry and paranoid, he began to change. His naturally fair skin became paler, his hair grew lighter, and his eyes darker. His beauty, already startling, became more and more artificial, like a porcelain mask. He grew to shun the light, and travel by night, swathed in dark clothes. His searches brought him much infamy and treasure, and he had even deigned himself to work with several groups of like-minded adventurers during this time, gaining more and more notoriety, under a different name - the Searcher. Despite hundreds of years, he never found what he was seeking.
One night, as he was wandering the night, he heard that voice again, the voice he had almost forgotten. "Come. You have seen it." Stepping out into a clearing, Klovis saw Lixer, once again, the same as he was back then. He once again yelled back, saying that he could destroy him now. Lixer, once again, laughed. "I have not spared you. You were already mine." With this, Lixer held up the book, that same book that Klovis had sought all this time. "In this book are all your crimes. You did not know it, but they are yours. I could give this to anyone, who would give it to those who pursue you. Do you really think I protected you for nothing? I gift nothing."
And then, suddenly, Klovis understood. All that he had read were all these things he had done. All his searching, everything he did since reading... it was all there, his whole life story. He had made it true by seeking it; by seeking it, it all became true. His mind began to snap with the realisation of what he had done, or what he had failed to prevent.
Lixer smiled again. "Resist and serve. Submit and serve. That is the only truth. Shall I lead you, or shall you go willingly? Your soul is mine, for eternity." Klovis knew now, and wept.
"So, what shall it be? You have no choice."
Klovis kneeled. "You are all choices, every path I walked. I swear myself to you, Lord Lixer. I submit."
