Krepta Eve Walker

Rainy day things, favorites, and little misc. facts.


Any questions pertaining to Krepta's skills or powers, or those of her family.


Krepta's got some demons. She's a tough lady with a biting wit and a grade A banter game, but she's been through a lot. If you don't want to read about trauma and angst, you should click one of the other question categories instead. This is where the sad stuff is kept.

Human
Krepta is a woman who looks like she’s been through a lot. The scars that litter her skin map a life of violence, and there’s a watchful sort of way that she scans the horizon that makes one wonder just what she might be looking for. But Krepta is also a woman with an easy smile and a wicked twinkle in those green eyes that tends to be contagious. There's a steadfast sort of warmth around her that gives the impression that whatever sort of trouble might be coming over the horizon, she won’t let anyone face it alone.

Build wise, Krepta is tall and very wiry. Even in good times where she's had plenty of resources available, there’s never a lot of fat on her. She’s too restless to ever stop moving enough to build any sort of padding, and her heightened metabolism keeps the rest off. Both of Krepta's eyes are green, though the right eye is a few shades lighter than the left, and is marked with a scar that stops beneath her eye and picks up again at the start of her jawline.

She has an angular face, a roman nose, and a skin color that suggests some distant Mediterranean heritage. Her eyes are large and almond shaped, and seem to carry a quality that almost makes them seem uncanny and not quite human, just the same as her eyes within the dragon’s face are always just a little too human. There is a silvery patch of skin between her eyes that resembles a star, or a rough sort of diamond.

Krepta likes to wear her hair down, and it's often fairly messy. Twigs and leaves are not infrequent visitors. Her hair is straight and long, and a chestnut brown sort of color. Likewise, Krepta tends to wear her clothing as casually as she does her hair, and she often goes for styles that are comfortable or utilitarian, and colors that make her blend into natural features.

The Dragon
Krepta’s dragon form has four powerful legs, and two leathery, bat-like wings. It’s notably more muscular than Krepta’s human form, particularly in the chest and neck areas. Overall it has a stocky, solid sort of shape, including a broad muzzle full of very sharp teeth and a thick, rudder-like tail.

Despite the dragon’s intimidating build, Krepta has learned to be very gentle in this shape after long years of trial and error. She has four, finger-like claws and a thumb on her front feet, and three and a hind toe on her back feet, and she is capable of picking up and manipulating objects with each– though it's abundantly easier for her to work with her hands than her feet.

The dragon's scales are a deep, rich red, with its wings only a slightly lighter color. Krepta possesses three sets of bone colored horns that grow backwards from the back of her head, with the main pair being the largest and heaviest. The second largest are situated at the bottom of her jawline, and the smallest are a pair of nub-like horns that jut out from the crest of her cheekbones. The largest set of horns are scratched and scuffed in many places, and the right one of that pair has a sizable chunk taken off of the end. She frequently uses them for fighting.

Krepta’s silver star-marking remains in this form, as does the color of her eyes.

Nothing of Note

Many of Krepta's belongings were lost to her during a fire in Sanctuary before she moved her home to the Hallow. She has been tentative about getting too attached to new things since then, and still dresses fairly practically as a rule.

♢ A Length of Raw Silk
Some weaker magics can be nullified with raw silk-- this goes for the corrupted artifacts that Krepta hunts as well. She usually keeps a bundle of about two feet of the stuff on her. It doesn't do much for more powerful problems, but it doesn't hurt to have on hand either, particularly if she needs someone else besides her to handle an artifact.

♢ Blood Spheres
Any corruption that needs to be contained on a more permanent basis requires Walker's blood. The bigger the job, the more blood is required. Krepta is just one person though, and she can't give any more blood than any other healthy human adult, particularly since Walker magic must be conducted while in human form. The solution that Krepta eventually came up with was about a dozen sturdy steel eggs that she paid a spellcaster a fair pretty penny to enchant. The inside of each egg contains an enclosed time loop, keeping the blood inside fresh as long as the eggs are sealed.

The eggs themselves are pretty solid, but just in case, Krepta keeps them in a hidden, padded compartment in her bag anyway. As unpleasant as it would be to accidentally squish one, it would be even more unpleasant for the wrong hands to get their mitts on Walker's blood, so she considers it best to keep them out of sight until needed.

♢ Sealing Glyph
While Krepta could take the time to hand carve each glyph she needs to seal an artifact, she's saved herself some time and effort and had a small brand made to help. The brand is about the size and shape of a bulky sort of ring, and with heat applied to it, it leaves deep enough grooves that Krepta can easily apply blood within them afterwards. As long as whatever she's branding is capable of being burned in the first place, she no longer has to make glyphs the old fashioned way, which is nice when you have to apply them to an artifact actively trying to murder you.

♢ Deception's Web - (Cloak)
Deception's Web is an enchanted cloak that Krepta bought to combat her issues with security cameras and other similar technology. Not being very stealthy by nature, and having no hacking skills to speak of, the cloak allows Krepta to become invisible to electronic eyes as long as she's completely underneath it. The cloak doesn't work on organic vision-- which is to say that flesh and blood people would just see a crazy lady hiding under a cloak-- but it allows Krepta to minimize the times that she gets shot at sneaking in and out of places. She regrets very much that it's only big enough to hide her human form.

♢ Various Coins
The upside of traveling between worlds is that you tend to collect currency or objects that might be of poor value in one place or time, but which are worth a lot of money in another. One has to be careful where one sells those sorts of things though, as well as how, and to whom. Krepta tends to carry a small collection of coins consisting of precious metals, or currency from empires long past in case she winds up on modern day earth where they might be worth something and she finds herself needing the resources.

♢ Rope
It's a rope. Every adventurer needs a sturdy rope or two.

♢ A Waterskin
A simple leather water skin.

♢ A Hunting Knife
Claws and teeth aren't always an option, so a good knife comes in handy, particularly for butchering kills for dinner. Despite what people may assume of Krepta, she doesn't typically eat her deer raw. She's always careful to keep the knife concealed in pre-modern eras, since its design and materials are plainly of modern manufacture.

She's recently been looking to upgrade to something customized and more adaptable, and will gladly pay any enterprising craftsman for the job if your character is interested.

♢ Bedroll
Krepta bartered for this bit of enchantment several years ago, and she maintains that it's still the most useful object that she owns. The bedroll is made from the skin of a beast that in life could change size at will, and so the bedroll itself can similarly change size. It can unfold large enough to act as a makeshift tent, or fold just small enough to fit comfortably into the bottom of Krepta's pack. The material is also fairly warm and somewhat water resistant, making it a great shelter in a pinch, though it won't stand up to more than a medium to light soaking.

♢ Power Nullifiers
These thin metal bands are surprisingly delicate, and they're definitely not one size fits all. Each band is meant to sit comfortably on the head of any average sized human adult, but as long as they can somewhat fit around the skull of a being, they work. The nullifiers send energy pulses into the brain that scramble the bits used to work more complicated abilities. The wearer is usually aware enough to communicate and move around, but they may find doing so like trying to work through mud.

Because Krepta is such an old character, and her continuity spans nearly every roleplay that she's been in, she's got a long and pretty complicated past. That being said, most of the fine details you'll have to find out through interacting with her. The basics will be here for reference, however.

0-13 years: The Walker bloodline comes from Krepta's mother's side. Alyson lost her own parents to the burden of this 'gift', and was raised by her grandfather, who eventually vanished as well, taken when Krepta was just two. As a result, she and Krepta's father elected to keep the history of Alyson's side of the family secret, hoping to raise Krepta as a normal child with a peaceful life.

Unfortunately, the duties of the Walker would not be ignored, and as one of the last, there were no others to combat the corruption in Alyson's stead. While she had made the choice to forget about that world and its horrors, it certainly had not forgotten about her, and she and her family paid the ultimate price for it one night when Krepta was about fourteen.

A creature of the corruption tracked Alyson to her home that night and surprised her and her husband while they were sleeping. The pair managed to fight it off long enough for Tadgh to hide Krepta somewhere safe. He was killed shortly after. As the monster rounded on Alyson, the Walker's patron, a being they called Qyinn, reached out to her mind and offered Alyson a deal.

It would protect Alyson’s daughter from the beast if in return, she would pledge Krepta's life to the cause, and give her own to Qyinn. With the only options being to accept or allow her daughter to die, Alyson accepted, and Krepta's soul was bound to the injured spirit of one of the four elemental forces that made up the Walker clans.

The energy burst from the fire binding, and the rebirth of The Dragon was enough to drive the monster off, but Krepta remained hidden for hours afterwards in the silence, and when she finally emerged, Alyson was gone, and her father was dead.

The media had a field day with the mystery, and it was largely assumed that the fantastic story that Krepta told was her way of coping, and that the missing Alyson Walker was Tadgh's real killer. Krepta knew better though. There was no doubt in her mind of what had happened, and that both of her parents were gone forever.

Krepta's care was entrusted to her only remaining relative, Tadgh's brother, Dev. He was a reclusive man who lived in Wick City, New Jersey– a place already fantastical on the surface, and even stranger beneath. But as such, Dev was a being well versed in magic, and he was fairly well prepared when Krepta's powers began to surface as a result of her new connection to the dragon, though he remained unaware of their origins.

Besides Dev, two family friends also shared the house, a reptilian being by the name of Solus– the family’s healer; and Viro, a vampire with an extensively shady past that became like an older brother to Krepta. Through her three ‘uncles’, Krepta found new exposure to a strange world full of magic and danger, capes and cowls, and a depth of political intrigue that someone her age should have never been left prey to.

And in fact, Dev and Solus were reluctant to allow her to be involved at all, and Viro outright protested. Wick’s heroing community was dangerous, and complicated at best. But Krepta continued to sneak out to fight crime each night without their permission, finding it a much needed outlet for her recent traumas.

Realizing that Krepta would continue to defy their wishes anyway, Dev contacted another family friend, a hero that went by the name of Grimoire. Grimoire took Krepta under his wing as a sort of apprentice within a team that called themselves the Nightshift. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but at least with Grimoire’s supervision, Krepta would learn to defend herself properly and reap some measure of safety.

And for a few short years after, Krepta did flourish. Under Grimoire’s guidance, Krepta learned how to fight, and gained better control of her developing powers. She found a sort of community and contentedness within the Night Shift, and a purpose and distraction in keeping Wick and the greater world safe with her abilities.

But eventually the hourglass ran out, and fate– or perhaps the cruel machinations of other powers that be, reached out their hand for Krepta…

14-16 years: To the outside eye, the world of capes and cowls is an exciting one, full of danger defying leaps and quick witted tongues from a hero always ready to exchange a clever one liner or two along with their punches. It’s full of dramatic costumes and thrilling theatrics. It’s an unwavering force for the side of good dressed up in adventure and spectacle.

Some of these things are true. A hero is rarely bored, and there's no denying the show that many of them put on. Unfortunately, some other things are ideals that people only fervently wish to be true. 'Good' is rarely as cut and dry as a snappy come-back and a memorable costume, and there are prices to pay for being able to work wonders.

The thing rarely acknowledged by the more public face of the heroing community, particularly in Wick, is that the world of heroes is also a world that is intensely political. When you have abilities that could shatter skyscrapers or allow you to replace the leader of a country all but unnoticed, it becomes very important for gifted individuals to play nice with the local government. Reputation becomes paramount, and it’s sometimes too easy for corruption to follow. A world like that would be difficult for any adult to navigate, nevermind a teenager still preoccupied with processing the recent death of her parents.

But despite the shifting of dark things beneath the sunny waters, Krepta held the heroing community in high regard, and she did well those first few years. Heroing work was cathartic, and helped Krepta work through some of her grief. She found much longed for companionship and encouragement in the other heroes of the city, and even an aloof sort of mentor in the grim and stoic presence of Grimoire.

Still only a junior member of the Nightshift, Krepta often sought to prove herself. One day, an overheard argument and a door left accidentally unlocked found her stumbling onto an intelligence gathering operation that had been botched a week earlier. One of the prominent members of Wick’s heroing community was rumored to be moonlighting as the mysterious head of a local crime family, one of the city’s worst. Unfortunately the Nightshift had been unable to prove it as of yet.

But Krepta’s uncle worked in the same building the team had been trying to access, and as the niece of one of its employees, Krepta knew that she would be less likely to be noticed. She could get in, get the information the Nightshift needed, and impress the entire team with her competence. It would be easy. Of course it would.

Without telling anyone where she was going, Krepta set her plan into motion. She stole her uncle’s keycard, and made it all the way to the office where the team had hoped that they would find the damning evidence needed to expose their turncoat. Instead Krepta found the turncoat himself.

He went by the name of Insight in the light of the day, posing as a grandfatherly figure known for his mental powers. In his shadier dealings, he was known as Rictus, a monster who left his victims with shattered minds and a terrible grimace across their faces. He had a considerably stronger set of powers and over a decade more experience than her, and Krepta never stood a chance against him.

She probably would have been destroyed entirely, if Rictus hadn’t been foolish enough to take his time, and if Grimoire hadn’t discovered the missing intel files and sensed that something was amiss. The dark clad hero came to Krepta’s rescue, but not swiftly enough to see the face of her attacker, who escaped into the night.

Krepta was in a coma for nearly three months after that. The family’s resident telepath, Solus, worked tirelessly to put her mind back together, but even when Krepta woke up, there was still damage to be repaired, and her recollection of just who her attacker had been could not be recovered until it was. On top of this she began suffering mood swings and nightmares, prompted by her own trauma and the damage the Dragon had also taken while shielding her from the attack.

It made framing Krepta for murder an easy decision for Rictus once he discovered that she was still alive. Krepta could not be allowed to remember who attacked her. It would expose Rictus and undo an empire it took him an entire lifetime to create. But with Nightshift watching over their youngest member, it would be difficult to reach Krepta before she did. He had to separate her from the flock.

Enter Changeling, a nasty piece of work who took identity theft to the final extreme. She was a shapeshifter who made her living murdering people whose lives she admired. When the deed was done, she simply slotted herself into the empty spaces they left behind for a time until she found something else to catch her interest. Rictus hired her to handle the Krepta problem.

When Krepta first began seeing her departed parents everywhere, she thought that she was going insane. She’d catch a glimpse of her mother’s face vanishing around some street corner, or see her father reading a newspaper in a café somewhere, only to find a stranger in their stead, or nothing there at all. Still recovering from the effects of her recent attack, it didn’t take long for the others to begin to wonder if something wasn’t wrong with her. Maybe there was more lingering damage than they had realized.

To compound that problem, sleep deprivation made Krepta even more impulsive and short tempered than usual, and she continued to see things that weren’t really there. When Changeling finally made her move, and a couple was found brutally murdered in their own home– a couple who looked remarkably like Krepta’s parents– it wasn’t hard to convince the world that it was Krepta that had snapped and done it. A security tape made an extra damning witness to the crime, exposing Krepta– or someone who looked remarkably like her as the killer, and Rictus’s little plant inside the team didn’t hurt either.

Nightshift turned on Krepta within the month, along with the rest of the heroing community of Wick. Her only protection was her mentor, Grimoire, who spirited Krepta away as best as he could, and Krepta’s uncles, who she didn’t dare get involved for fear of losing them too. Eventually Nightshift cornered Krepta and Grimoire, and in her panic, she stole one of Grimoire’s spell books and activated an escape spell that was far too advanced for her.

The next thing Krepta knew, a hole in the universe had opened up and swallowed her down, and Wick and her family would become a distant memory until nearly six years later.

17-28 years: For several months, Krepta continued to jump erratically through time and space. She never knew when the jumps would occur, or where or when she would wind up, only that they inevitably would happen eventually. Sometimes it seemed like they were triggered when Krepta was stressed or overtired, and sometimes they seemed to happen for no particular reason at all. She came to live to fear the next time she would be once again ripped from everything she had come to find familiar.

With little means to gather resources or to feed herself in the new places she was constantly finding herself thrust into, Krepta often resorted to stealing or scavenging wherever she could. The consequences of not finding enough food proved to be very, very bad – something that Krepta learned the hard way. It only took waking up once in a field full of slaughtered and half eaten livestock to convince her that whatever the risks and moral implications of theft were, there were always worse alternatives.

Ultimately, it was one of those thefts that eventually got Krepta caught, and by the worst sort of people.

Another surprise jump found Krepta on the very tip of an island chain. It was a beautiful, if lonely place, a balmy stretch of rock and sand surrounded by turquoise waters. The air was scented with rockrose and fig, and the island seemed sparsely populated aside from a few small clusters of houses down near the beach. To Krepta’s great fortune, none of those houses had contained their usual residents at the time of her arrival.

Taking advantage while she could, Krepta decided to slip in and gather what resources she needed from the tiny hamlet while she was still unobserved. She took only enough for a few days' travel until she could fend for herself. Clothes, a little food, a water skin, a small blanket-- nothing anyone would really miss.

Except pirates often take offense to being stolen from, no matter how small the take.

Her task done, Krepta slipped back into the dense woodland surrounding the hamlet, assuming that she had gotten away with her theft unseen. Still young, she wasn’t wary enough to catch the footsteps following her deep into the forest, and she didn't pause to check the surrounding area before she nestled into the wide hollow of a cluster of old fig trees for the night and fell asleep.

When Krepta woke up again, she woke within chains, and she woke beneath the control of a magical suppression collar. The pirates had been ready for her, but perhaps not surprisingly. Krepta learned much later that the area had a heavy trade in beings of the magical sort, people or otherwise. She had just had the very poor misfortune of finding herself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Krepta never did learn the name of the particular group of pirates that captured her. There were many around the island chain, a place called The Isla de la Tortuga Llorona. The main island was named for the great beast which its founders had chained to the sea floor in order to build upon its back. They built a bustling empire there on the wealth gained from harvesting from the creature’s living body.

Krepta found herself a captive on that island for nearly half a decade. Too wild to be anyone's obedient thrall, but too valuable to kill and sell for parts, she found herself often fighting for her life within the island's arena against monster and gladiator alike. The years took their toll. Krepta became battle scarred and half feral, retreating into her own mind while her body continued to fight for survival.

From time to time a buyer would take her off the island's hands, and she would suffer at theirs, her spirit unbendable but her body a receptacle for their frustrations, but they would always return her in the end.

Eventually a bastard of a pirate named Scrimshaw cracked the code. Krepta would never bow her head, no matter how much she was afraid or however much they hurt her own body. But if he started hurting others when she didn't behave, oh, then she suddenly became more compliant. Scrimshaw proudly paraded his conquest across the island, showing Krepta off at any and every opportunity, the unbreakable finally broken.

Except he pushed it too far one day, and got a little too cocky. Convinced that he had utter control over his prize, Scrimshaw had long since loosened the chains and collars that held Krepta physically captive. It all came to a head one summer day when he demanded something of Krepta that she would and could not bow to. Krepta has never told a soul what that thing was, but her refusal of it infuriated Scrimshaw, and he began to systematically mutilate another one of his captives in order to make her comply.

Perhaps it was that day that Krepta truly did break.

She came to herself again with Scrimshaw's heartbeat fading from between her jaws and his blood upon her tongue. Scrimshaw’s life is the only life that Krepta has ever taken, and she does not speak of these events easily, even after all these years later.

Far from anyone but her fellow captive and what was left of Scrimshaw's body, Krepta undid the woman's chains and then fled. She ran and ran until she found herself in the winding tunnels of the island's sea caves. There she fell into an exhausted sleep, and when she came to, she found herself curled around a large, leather bound book.

There was no one around to have left the book. The caverns echoed only with the distant boom of the sea’s waves. But the book did contain answers to questions about her family that Krepta hadn't even known to ask, and perhaps even more importantly, it contained a way out, a path to freedom.

Of a sorts, anyway...

Krepta learned from the book, which seemed to be able to communicate in its own strange and stilted way, that she was from a long line of World Walkers, and that certain spells could tangle with a young Walker's emerging powers if applied wrong. Her own desperate escape from Wick years earlier, using the spell that had been stolen from Grimoire had caused Krepta’s own innate magic to become corrupted and unpredictable.

Focusing that power instead into a Doorway would break the pattern and allow Krepta to finally leave the terrible, captive life that she had been forced to inhabit for so long. It was a solution, or the beginning of one, at least, but in many ways Krepta was left with more questions than she had begun with, and a difficult choice ahead of her.

Though Krepta’s first act was indeed to return home, she couldn’t bring herself to approach her uncles. She eventually convinced herself that the kindest thing to do was to let them move on from the pain that she had caused them. After all, they had already had five years to mourn. What good would the sudden appearance of a long buried ghost do them? Krepta had changed too much, seen too much, hurt too much. She couldn’t bear to open those old wounds for either herself or for them.

And so Krepta left and from there, applied herself to pouring her energy into her family’s work. Like her heroing days, doing so provided Krepta with the purpose that she craved, and a distraction from the inner turmoil that threatened at any moment to boil over and consume her. But that purpose became the thing that consumed in its stead, and the bindings of Krepta’s destiny wound tighter and tighter while her schism with the Dragon continued to widen. In many ways, she had traded one set of chains for another, these far more cleverly crafted and subtle than the last.

29-Present: Sometimes when all you've known are chains of heavy iron, a rope around your neck feels light enough that you don't see it for what it is. For many years Krepta continued to wear herself thin on the Walker's path, always working alone, relentlessly and tirelessly without friend or ally to walk by her side.

It took a terrible fury to break Krepta free of that life, and once again, mysterious help from an unknown benefactor. At one of Krepta’s lowest points, she found herself in the attic of her grandfather's old farmhouse among the dust and old boxes. And there, untouched by the dust or by time, a journal-- her mother's.

The journal contained impossible information, things only her mother would know, and things that could only have been written by a ghost they had been so recent. And like the Walker's Book, Alyson's journal contained power, but power of a different sort-- it contained the truth.

The journal told a story about a mother who had lost her husband to a terrible darkness, and who had made a deal with a powerful being in order to prevent that same darkness from taking her young daughter too. It contained regret over the need for those choices, and pride and love for a daughter long gone from her reach.

And it contained a warning:

'Trust only in yourself.'

Krepta was more furious than she had ever been, and understandably so. The being that she was working for had taken advantage of her mother in a desperate situation, and had callously chained the life of a young child to itself, knowing full well that Alyson couldn't refuse. Then it had taken Alyson from Krepta and allowed her to think that her mother was dead all of these years. While Krepta couldn't prove it for sure, the journal entries suggested that somewhere out there, Alyson Walker was alive, and someone wanted Krepta to find her.

As soon as she was able, Krepta found herself a spellcaster to tattoo a special rune across her heart that bound her connection to her family’s patron, preventing it from hijacking her Doors and forcing Krepta to go where it wanted. Krepta's actions forced the entity to confront Krepta directly. It threatened her in an eldritch display that would have cowed most people, demanding that she remove the rune and obey it, but Krepta is not most people, and anger had made her brave. She told the entity that it could certainly kill her, but without her, there would be no more Walkers, and when that happened it would be out of a job, wouldn't it?

Krepta told Qyinn that she would continue as a Walker, protecting the balance of the multiverse, but from now on it would be on her own terms. She also demanded to know what it knew about her mother. But the entity refused to answer, and Krepta has not heard directly from it since then, though it still occasionally makes demands through the family book. That time worn book rests more often than not on a shelf in Krepta’s study now. There’s a another book she carries with her now, one that Krepta herself is writing– a new Book of Walker, a book written with her rules, and in the light of the truth.

And there’s another duty that Krepta feels she must pursue. Somewhere out there, somehow, Krepta Walker may not be the last of her line.