Date of birth1975-12-08 (47 years old)
Place of birthLeicester, England
BuildAverage build, slight bulk
[Hoping to make expand and polish this as soon as possible]
Born into a rich family, Digby never knew what it meant to survive. He relished in his inherited wealth using it to further his education and knowledge of the world. However, the addition of wealth into one's life doesn't change their true character, it only accentuates the traits they are born with. Digby never understood how his parents sat inside their grand accommodations doing nothing all day. How could you amass such wealth only to sit and count it. In an opposing attitude Digby travelled the world as soon as he was of age to do so. Granted, he didn't resort to hitchhiking or staying in hostels but took a much more 'gentleman' approach to travel.
First-Class planes, hired drivers and 5-Star Hotels along with a very meticulous itinerary for the entire 'experience'. It was on one of these trips that it all happened. Digby was nearing the end of the 'Complete Norway' excursion, which was an 'Oslo to the Artic, by Rail and Sea' described adventure. On day 11 of this trip, they were approaching Honningsvåg. By this time the sickness was becoming known and people were getting increasingly worried. The trip was put on hold and the ship's occupants were put into lockdown. No one on that ship could get off, and no one could get on.
Thought of being stuck on a high-class cruise surrounded by 'old money' types of people makes both rich and poor squirm. The poor hate the rich, but the rich hate each other more. They spent weeks, maybe even months together on that ship, so hate and conspiracy prospered whilst supplies dwindled.
Eventually they had to leave the docks of Honningsvåg due to the locals swarming the piers in panic and looking for a way out. By this point Digby was somewhat enjoying himself and the fun he could have. Playing mind games on his fellow Luxor residents was a great way to pass the time. Pitting one old hag against the other over who drank the last bottle of wine, or stirring rumors that the captain himself was showing signs of sickness. Did Digby know what all this would accumulate into? Maybe, but it's more likely he just didn't care enough to see the outcome.
Wailing screams filled the ships interior waking Digby from his cabin. He rose to investigate stumbling the halls as the ship lurched over waves. Reaching the main dining area, he came across indescribable bloodshed, it appeared to be Mrs. Shawcross, one of the older travelers alongside Captain Devereaux. The captain had a broken bottle stuck in his neck, whilst the old lady's head was caved in and a large portion of her arm missing. It was only then he saw a third body, if you can call it that. This thing was not a member of this vessel, it was a bloated mass that looked as if it had been dwelling underwater for a while. A deep purple was its rubbery skin, both eyes enlarged in an almost comedic way and within its slimy-black teeth was fresh meat torn away from Mrs. Shawcross just moments ago.
This was Digby's final night on that ship, he knew it wasn't too long until he'd find himself being torn apart. So, he got off at the nearest town and found himself in Nyheim.
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