Corrin Keegan

"Master oh master where have you gone..."

Name: Corrin Keegan

Age: ?

Race: Half-demon/khajiit

Corrin Keegan Is Keegan's most truest transcendent form, passing beyond his mortal coil he becomes an immortal lord of hellfire. As Keegan pushed through constant demon lord research he grew increasingly aggravated by his lack of power. Lesser demons normally stood no chance but their power grew and continued to flourish while he stood bottle capped from his immense power. Master Ifrit finally decided it was time to release all of his power at once at their final sparring session. This immense power crushed and blew apart the realm but it did not once burn Master Ifrit. Ifrits love for his underling was absolute, in the final troughs of their fight Keegan began to reminisce of his younger days, the days when he was a kitten, the day when his master saved him from the maws of hell

"What Ill fortune has befallen you little one"

"Come, this is no place for a youngling mortal such as yourself...I'll call you...."

Keegan remembered, who he was and what he was meant to become. This knowledge was all he truly needed to grasp, what this power would be used for...It was all for him"

Keegan arose, taking the form of an imp like creature, he was no longer the little kitten Ifrit once knew. This was their final meeting, this was all Ifrit needed to see, he pronounced that he would be free to choose his path now, to take his side as a Lord of hellfire, but he would have to take over for quite some time. Ifrit had always planned to fulfill his motives to raise Keegan into a powerful Lord and now it was here, it was time to push his true motives with Keegan at his side. Corrin, The "Spear head" the burning flame of Ifrit. Before Ifrit made his departure, he told Keegan to travel to a certain point in the realm, a disembodied rock that held a "gift meant for a true Lord".

When Keegan reached this point he came across a twisted tree, this tree held one fruit, a fruit of flesh and blood. Picking of the fruit, he noted that he would do anything in the name of his Lord and without hesitation tore into the fruit, consuming the fleshy like orb.

A serge of power rushed into his being, a thousand words, a lifetime of knowledge. At that moment his sword shattered under the weight of his power, reforming into a crude, scale blade of great power. This was truly a weapon for him, a weapon that did not belong to anyone but him. His power incarnated into a great bohemian sword.

"We will leave this place together...master...I am ready"