Dark Ranger

This look takes influence from Middle-earth rangers, most prominently Talion from Shadow of Mordor. There once was a great Ascalonian hero, Jasper Sureshot. Born an orphan of unknown origin, with nothing more than the simple name of Jasper, he was recruited by King Adlbern's war effort against the Charr armies of the North. During his academy days he gained the nickname Sureshot for his skill in marksmanship. He fought in many conflicts and gained prestige with the Vanguard, a unit under command of Prince Rurik. When the fracture between the Prince and King occured Jasper decided that his journey in life would take him far an wide and went with immigrants west. His journey took him far and wide across the world, too the jungles of maguuma. The far reaches of the Crystal Desert. The Distant shores of Cantha and Elone. He battled Dark sorcerers, Specter fromt he distant past, fallen gods, and Harbingers of the much older Draconic powers. Eventually his came home to Ascalon and began building the family he never had. He was recruited as an ambassador of the King due to his experience and reputation dealing with foreign cultures. During a routine trip to build trade relations with the Norn, Charr attacked back home. Upon returning Jasper found his family missing in the ruins of their village. In a rage Jasper met with the recently returned Ebon Vanguard and began the creation of a new unit purposed for deep infiltration into Charr lands to wage war on their homefront. During a large training event the great siege of Ascalon was unknown to them occuring in the west. When pressed by all the might of the Charr in his madness the King unleash Magdaer's wrath and smote the Charr and cursed Ascalon forever. The foefire stretched all the way to Jasper's training encampments and branded his troops and self. He troops fell into madness quickly, young souls with no experience in cursed magics. Jasper was a veteran in dealing with such things and was uniquelly resilient to its corruption but nonetheless he was curse to walk the wilds of Ascalon as a specter over the centuries. He sought a cure for his curse with no knowing how long if ever he would find one. 2XX years passed. Jasper had accrued a libraries worth of texts and artifacts from across Ascalon from the days of Ascalonian antiquety. Many animals he had in his stable, bewitched by his ghostly will. One day he came upon a most strange sight. A wounded creature, a planty being with the visage of a man. He could tell it was in dire condition blood(sap) oozing from a number of deep wounds of unknown origin. The creature had no apparent concept of vocal language yet was inherently inquisitive evident of a highly intelligent being. He took the creature back to his secret lair to attempt to help it. conventional methods were unsuccessful due to his plantiness. He resorted to healing magics he had self tought over the ages in search for a self cure. Nothing was effective. He surmised it was due to his ghostlyness was unable to manifest the vital energies that a living being could receive. He searched and searched through his collections and no solutions presented themselves until he came upon the black magic. He had a collections of journals that were written by the rouge necromancer Verata, a fugitive that centuries ago sought the secrets of everlasting unlife. He decided if he could not health the creature he would figure a way to sacrifise his own spiritual essence in an effort to restore the lifeforce of the creature. A noble end to his curse of endless ghosthood. He scrawled the magical algorithyms in the dirt of the cave. Fresh blood from a sacrificed chicken to initiate the ritual, a prayer to gods that his works and so the ritual began. The marking on the floor lit brilliantly and He could instantly feel the essence of his being ripping appart but the ritual and then everything went black. He came too sometime later. The cave was filled with smoke and the marking on the ground were still smoldering. Only a few minutes had passed. The creature was nowhere in sight. The ritual a failure? Was in obliterated? He could smell the smoke of the ritual... "Wait, I can smell?" It had been 2XX years since the last time he experienced the physical senses of the living. He looked down and found his body was planty. He was the creature! He got up quickly and found this new body was in excellent condition now. He also felt a strange wonderment at the world around him. As if was was seeing the world through the perception of a child seeing the wonders of the world for this first time. He surmised that his spirit and that of the creature had been merged. He possessed all the knowledge and experience of his life but now had the fresh perspected of a being with an empty slate. He left the cave born again fresh. No longer bound by his curse. Free to explore the world once again. How had it changed? What was he? He set out that day to find these answers free the the curse of the foefire. Its touch remained upon his soul, but it was no longer a tether, it was now his weapon.