⛨ ~ 𝕽eynauld

“You’re the one from the posters. The felon. With a weapon like that, you seem more like an assassin to me.”

A lone, yellow eye stared back at the Masked Felon — pupil like that of a reptile. The knight must’ve been seven feet tall. An inhuman stature.

“Easy.”

He spoke gruffly, eying the man’s sword. A short blade, not suited for long fights, but still deadly in the right hands.

>>

The first thing Reynauld notices is the familiar mask. Intricate. Shaped like a human skull. Would shake the boots of any normal man.

Reynauld is anything but. He is a man trapped between two worlds, one of the living, and one of the infernal.

>>

Reynauld had stuck to the shadows so far. Drawing attention from the City Guard would only have less than favorable results. So, he opted to take the less traveled route.

Little did he know it would lead him here. . under somebody’s watchful eye.

The air smells of ozone, salt, and the ever-so slight hint of rotting fish. Beneath the knight’s boots lie the slick, whale oil-stained cobblestones of Dunwall.

Here, he sticks out like a sore-thumb among the grim, industrial decay of the Empire of the Isles.

>>

I live. . again!

MOST of the time he’s usually got his helmet on. He doesn’t like to show his face, considering he’s kind of an undead demon. Of sorts.

> | faceclaim | <

Probably going to just stick with Guts until I can find something more suitable, we’ll see.

> | voiceclaim | <

Then, a shower of crimson.

Rebirth.

Crudele Angelo — the Cruel Angel — rose from the throne.

Though it was dead, he couldn’t help but curse at himself, stumbling towards the throne before taking his seat. Yes. . he’d rest here, for a while. This was good.

The last thing he heard were the chants of the lord’s servants, the sound of a knife cutting into beastly flesh.

Forced to watch in horror as this monster tore through his men like tissue paper, Reynauld stormed the beast, sending a fatal strike directly to it’s head with his grand mace — but not before it impaled him on reflex, it’s claws tearing through his armor like nothing.

Upon his realization, Reynauld flew into a wild rage. Gathering the few men that still trusted him after what he’d done, he led a rebellious charge straight into the heart of his lord’s castle. Reaching the throne room, the knights were met with the true form of Reynauld’s lord.

Once a valiant human knight, he served a cold and merciless lord, unknowing of his master’s true intentions. Obeying every order, he was willfully blind to his own actions, misled to spill innocent blood.

Reynauld is an original character crafted for the Devil May Cry verse, but I might end up adapting him to a more general fantasy setting.

Without adieu, here is the tale of Reynauld I wrote about three years ago.

> | muse | <

Written by Snake. 23, he/him. Possible mature themes ahead — violence, gore, a sense of losing one’s self, etc. 18+ only. Minors do NOT interact. I will block for my own comfort if needed.

Lewd accounts DNI.

Activity might be sporadic from time to time.

> | mun/guidelines | <

> | master thread | <

> REYNAULD, the fallen demon knight. Once human, centuries ago he was transformed into a ruthless, savage devil warrior in an ancient ritual. Old stories tell of a dark knight in iridescent violet armor, laying waste on the battlefields of long ago with an earth-shattering mace.

my chosen torture makes me stronger
in a life that craves the hunger