Dark Priest

You are a Dark Priest, a corrupted acolyte who worships the God of Darkness, Lorchos, or rather that was how it was supposed to be. In truth, you are a low level "mob" who is stationed in front of the boss room in a old fort that functions as a beginning dungeon that is a short ways from one of the human beginning towns. Looking around the room, all there is are a few pews, or wooden benches, sitting in rows, all facing towards the front, an old closet that has an ancient looking broom, a single window that was unbreakable, and an alter, that you clean, less for devotion to your god, than rather sheer boredom, as even if enemies come, they are always in a group, and you by yourself are hardly strong enough to deal with them. Behind you was a large double-door that led to the boss of the fort, the Dark Knight, a large skeleton equipped with armor, and according to the random talk of the people who come and repeatedly kill you for exp, called "players", he was hard to kill. "How lucky", you think to yourself. You and the other mobs were killed constantly, while only he got the satisfaction of fighting back. In front of you was an opening that led a ways to the front of the fort where various other mobs stood. Every once in awhile you would go to see the others, though most were undead and weren't mentally capable of talking.

Sighing in loneliness, you go to the window to have a look at yourself. Standing in the reflection was a male figure around 5'11. Although you had a hood covering it, you had a head full of dark, black hair, tied up in a loose ponytail. Your face was surprisingly good-looking, albeit your skin being very pale, with purple eyes, and a soft, yet firm look. You wore a black robe with a insignia of a eye on the front and back, sewn in with a grey thread. Satisfied with your appearance, you say to no one in particular, "Status". After seeing the passing players say this, one day you tried it out and was surprised at the transparent box that appeared suddenly in front of you. Looking at the box, your status showed.

Dark Priest, Lielle
Race: Half-Elf
Lvl: 1
HP: 10/10
MP: 24/24
Phy Atk: 2
M-Atk: 8
Weakness(es):
Slash, Bleeding

Special Abilities/Skills:
Heal - Basic healing spell. (Heals 15 Hp, Costs 5 Mp)
Dark Fireball - Unholy ball of fire, corrupts living. (Deals 12 dmg, cost 10 Mp)(20% chance of curse)

What am I, a Priest or a Mage? You shake your head as you look at your skills. Although you're status is relatively good for a lvl 1 mob, it doesn't help you against all the parties of "players" that come here to farm. While still wondering at the oddity of yourself, you hear a commotion in the distance. Towards the entrance of the fort, you can hear a large amount of yelling, and as well, swearing. "Fuck a duck! Why the hell is there so many undead?! What is this, a god damn fuck me up with corpses con? Die, damn you!".
"...Did I just hear fuck a duck?", you say to yourself. While you try to figure out what that would even mean, the sounds of combat and, of course, swearing, come closer. Not wanting to be seen by the player who has made all the noise, you run into the closet that holds a single broom. Calming yourself, and slowing your breathing just in case that noise-maker hears, though you doubt they would, you crack open the door and wait. Not that long after you've hid, you hear someone enter the room. However, unlike the usual clamor of multiple people that you've become used to, there were only the footsteps of a single person. The sound quickly moved forward, then suddenly stopped.