OOC: Ok ya'll, I'm starting the revamped game. I'll be posting my characters (William and Ariana) here, then making my first post. Feel free to just include your character sheet in your first post for reference's sake, and we'll go from there . Right now, our party is in the northern part of Sepe, in the somewhat barren but still hospitable area north of the great desert region. We're just an hour's walk from the Necromancer's lair, which will be a run-down keep. I will have a simple map of the interior on hand for reference for when we enter. It is currently night time, we've just got done with a day of walking, and now we're sitting around camp getting ready for the big day tomorrow!

Axle's Character:
Name: William Danesin

Age: 25

Race: Half Human/Half Demon

Class: Bard

Alignment: Lawful Nuetral

Height: Five feet and Eight Inches

Weight: One hundred and Fifty-Five Pounds

Physical Description: Will has a fairly 'compact' frame, not a very tall man and a tad skinny looking. Despite this however he has a decent amount of muscle for his size. He has tanned white skin, shoulder length golden brown hair, soft hazel eyes, and an almost permanent smile on his face. He has a beard that goes along his jawline, which is kept trimmed.

Clothing: Will is wearing a pair of scuffed but sturdy travelling boots, a pair of thick black trousers, a black long sleeve shirt with a dark green cloak over that.

Equipmeant: For armor, Will has a chain-mail shirt and a medium sized round shield, painted red on one half and white on the other. The boss in the center is bronze. For weapons, Will carries a nine-inch dagger made of iron, and also has a short-sword which is two feet long, which is made of steel. Also in his pack, he carries his flute which he plays with great talent. Other than these, he has normal survival gear; a roll out travel mattress, blankets, flint and steel, a whetstone, some rations for the road, etc.

Talents/Skills: William is a wonderful singer and a good flute player, making him a gifted Bard. He's also quite proficient in sword fighting, though due to his physical size, relies more on technique and agility than raw power. He's most certainly not the meat-shield of the group!

Powers/Abilities:
Burning Hands: Due to his Demonic heritage, Will can summon fire to engulf his palms, either to start fires while camping, or to scorch his enemies on contact.
Terror Aura: Another gift of his Demonic heritage, Will can put out an Aura of Terror, sending weak minded or weak hearted enemies running from his presence.

Backround Information: Will doesn't disclose much information about his childhood and adolescence, but what he does tell others is that he left his village willingly at the age of eighteen, and has been travelling ever since.

At the age of nineteen and a half or so, he was saved by the rogue Ariana, after he took serious injuries at the hand of a Demonic bear. She tended to him for a week while he was in a comatose state, aiding his healing which was already accelerated by his Demonic blood. After waking, Will thanked her, and during the course of his recovery told her his story. He figured it was the least he could do, to open up to her and tell her why he was there.

She was intrigued by his story and his life mission, to discover himself and his heritage. Tired of living in the same town her whole life and yearning for adventure, she joined him and they've been travelling ever since.

After travelling together for nearly a year and a half, William and Ariana both realized that they'd fallen in love with eachother, and have been a couple ever since.

During the past five years, William and Ariana have found and lost other travelling companions, won and spent small fortunes, but have not found out much more about Will's heritage. But with the rumor of an ancient artifact, containing the wisdom of the Hells and Demonic Planes, Will is on the track to perhaps find out more about himself, and his Father.

Goals/Ambitions:
1.) To discover more about his Demonic Heritage, so that perhaps he can grow and master his Demonic powers, or perhaps restore his humanity, ridding himself of his dark side.
2.) To become a famous Bard, whose songs are sung by his peers throughout the great halls of kings throughout the world.

NAME: Ariana Leston (aka- Ari)

AGE: 24

RACE: Elf

CLASS: Rogue

ALLIGNMENT: Nuetral Good

HEIGHT: 5"7

WEIGHT: 110lbs

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Ariana is very elven like with the tall thin frame, but still muscular (for a girl). She's tanned like most elves, with shoulder length dark black hair with auburn/blood red streeks in the light. Her hair is almost always kept in a single braid down her back or lots of little braids. Her eyes are large and golden-brown that shine at night, with lips that are full and beautiful. She has a large scar on her left shoulder blade that she had since she was five, recieved from an evil Demon... or so she was told.

CLOTHING: Ariana always has on a pair of soft knee-high tannish brown boots made from the hide of a large wild cat, tough, extremely durable and yet soft as a feather. She can usually be found wearing dark brown trousers that hug her body, a tight black sleeveless tunic with a dark, almost blood red, velvet hooded cloak that reaches just below her feet to trail behind her.

EQUIPMENT: Ari has a chain mail shirt that is made especially to be light and easy to move in, that is her only armor to speak of. For weapons she has an assortment of things, a six inch silver dagger kept in a boot, a bow and satchel of home made arrows, and her only valued posession... A staff made of a 1000 year old oak tree with a stone the color of fire on the end. The stone is 'said' to contain the power to control the fire element. She received this great gift from an Elven shaman and it is said it can also never be broken. In her possession she also has a lot of survival gear: her bedding, rations & herbs to cook with, fishing line and bait, weapon cleaning items, etc...

TALENTS/SKILLS: Ariana is an expert tracker and very talented with her bow & staff, all come from her class and years of hard daily training. One of her greatest skills is her tongue, she's a quick thinker and even faster with her tongue. She's fast and agile in her wooded surroundings, which she is most comfortable in. Also she is a great thief, skilled at pick pocketing and lock picking.

POWERS/ABILITIES: Ari doesnt have very many magic abilities. She does receive power from her staff, its said to be able to control the element of fire... She just hasnt figured out how yet. The only magical thing she can do is go through most any type of heat or flame and be untouched. Her body is partially immune to fire, though she's not quite sure where it stems from. The shaman that gave her her staff said that she was blessed by the gods at her birth, but who knows. She has the abilities of the rogues and thieves also, but not anything magical just skills.

GOALS/AMBITIONS: 1) Have an adventure; 2) Find riches to live on; 3) Find a real 'home' to live 4) Help Will complete his "quest"

BACKGROUND INFO: Ariana grew up in an Elven town in the mountains. At the human looking age of 16 she moved out on her own, she never really likes to look into her past or think about it. She began wandering for years until she found a little home in the woods. One day, like any other, she stumbled upon a man that was near death. He had happened upon a demon bear in the woods. Ari took the man back to her cottage and cared for him for weeks, when he recovered they decided to travel together. That is how she came here today...

William was sitting next to the small fire they'd built, more for light in the darkness of night than for heat. They were in the northern region of Sepe, and even the nights so far south were incredibly warm. Will's back rested against a tree stump, as he procured a piece of parchment that he'd obtained several weeks ago. He read it once more, reminding him of his mission and the weeks of travelling leading up to this moment; 'In the northlands of Sepe, you will find Thalis the Necromancer. He will have something that will answer your questions Will. -X' Will whispered to himself under his breath, "I do hope so.." Will put the paper back, and sat up to let the fire light up his face better, as he pulled out his flute and put out a catchy tune. Ariana came and sat behind him on the stump, and she gazed into the flames, becoming lost in their beauty and in Will's song.

Will finished playing his flute, and stood, walking over toward his and Ari's nook in the camp. He'd shed his armor and cloak the moment they set up camp, due to the heat, and now even his shirt was too much for him. "By the gods, you'd think my blood was about to boil out my nose, I'm so warm!" Will said as he threw off the shirt and grabbed his canteen. They'd filled up with water just this morning, so it wasn't very stagnant yet. Will took a drink as he resumed his position in front of Ari. "So, Nyx," Will called over to his comrade, "I've been meaning to ask you the past few weeks, but it's always slipped my mind; what is your profession, pray tell?"

Kargoths charater

Name-Mandalore Thux
Age ? claims 25
Race-cambion
Class-Rouge
Alignment-Chaotic neutral
Height-6'0
Weight-180
Descrpition-Natural appearance is that of a 6'0 tall, well built, red skined humanoid with coal black hair and sickly yellow eyes, he has a moulthful of fang like teeth-but they are simply for eating. However, as with most cambions, he can take on the basic appearance of diffrent humanoids.
Clothing-Mandalore wears a black tunic with grey pants, has black leather boots & belt
Equiptment-Armor-mithril breastplate (spiked)
Weapons-Longsword & dagger (both enchanted)
Various trinkets from diffrent demon lords-used as id for adventures
Survival equiptment (blanket, rations,whetstone, flint & steel)
Skills-Mandalore is an able assasin & warrior, his racial traits make him excellent at infiltration, elimination & extraction, however, he can fight in open battle as his demonic heritage makes him both physically & mentally supirior to most mortals, he also knows alot about magic(but cant use it).

Powers-Shapechange-able to take on diffrent humanoid appearances to better blend in with society
Silent-Mandalore can move without sound, even in the most difficult terrain or in the heaviest armor.

Mandalore is a former assasin of a now dissposed demon lord, he currently works as a tracker, assasin, and somtimes guide to visitors to the first layer of the abyss, usually to either Pazuzu (lord of evil flying creatures) or Red shround (Powerful succubus mage).
Goals/Ambitions-To gain more power/prestige among demonkind, and to expand his list of "clients" into the mortal realms.

Here's my character-sheet!

Name: Aëal the God Eater

Age: 26

Race: Seccëhal

Class: Warrior Monk

Alignment: Neutral Good(ish)

Height: 2,4m. (I don't know how to measure the way you Americans/Englishmen do, sorry)

Weight: 90kg. (see height)

Physical Description: A very muscular and yet thin man, with short hair naturally running behind his ears. Always looks as awake as can be. Has a curved nose with a sharp end and a fitting moustasch hanging all the way down to his chest. He has one thick (about half a decimeter thick!) tattoo running from his right shoulder down to the left part of his waste, ending in a stylish curve. Pale white skin, and actually works as a soft light at night.

Clothing: Very baggy pants of silk and a stomach-warmer that reaches up halfway across his bare upper body, both red. He wears nothing else (no, not even boots).

Equipment: He wears gloves, whereas the right hands fingertips have one foot long blades attached to them.

Talents/Skills: He can eat anything and get nourishment from it (whereas the name Godeater; he worships the world as a god). He is an extreme talent when it comes to controlling his body parts and is very accurate and steady when using his fingerblades.

Powers/Abilities:
Neckbreaker - Uses both hands. After disorienting an enemy, he moves quickly forward, supports his opponents neck with his left hand and slams the face with the other one. Not usable with the gloves equipped.
Low Blow Goes High Slice - Kicks his opponent with his right foot in the stomach or nearby, making the target bend over. He then does an down-to-up slice and cleaves the fiends face. Hard to execute.
Penetrating Hand - A left-hand hook in the side of his opponents head opens for horizontal strike with his right hands' blades.

Backround Information: A man (or Elf, whatever you prefer) with a very shady background. He does know where he is from; although he hasn't told anyone. Ever since he left his home (which he will tell no one about either) he's only gained one friend. That friend was an innkeeper, Andre, who sadly died three days after Aëal met him. Since then, he has been wandering around everywhere and no-where, without an obvious goal. Although not knowing it, though, he's been wandering not far from the inn, never turning around. To him, he has been wandering for years, but if you were to see his movement from up above you notice a template of turning and zick-zacking around the green fields. He still seems to be following a natural compass to a land unknown to him.

Updated!

As Aëal grouped up with Will and his party, he's remembered his original goal (Apprentice Training, see the OOC-thread) and is no longer confused. Since that, his skin-colour has changed back to pale white (see Physical Description).

Goals/Ambitions: To complete his apprentice training, and to help Will with his 'quest'.

Other Info: He has white blood, making his specimen doubtful.

Name: Markus Ritt
Age: 29
Race: Human
Class: Cleric
Alignment: Good
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 210

Physical Description:Markus is a tall man of god. He travels the land seeking evil and destroying them. This and traveling has made him tough and strong so he isn't fat or skinny but in the middle.

Clothing: He wears a white robe torn and tattered at the rims. He wears a Battered and scared piece of armor. He wears parchment of protective spells to help him fight against evil.

Equipment: He carries a two handed warhammer marked with runes to bring strength to his strikes.

Talents/Skills: Healing

Powers/Abilities: Healing hand: He can heal a target of a wound with a single touch
Soulfire: Markus's hammer glows with the strength and power of sigmatur, causing great damage to his foes. He rarely use's this ability as it drains him of all energy leaving him weak and defenseless
(each time he uses an ability, he energy depletes and he must rest to bring it back)

Background Information: Markus was brought up in a monastery and learnt the way of the priest. When he reached the age of 19 he took up the holy warhammer of his monastery and went on a quest to preach the name of god to the world. It wasn't long before he began to hunt demons. It has been ten years since he left the compound of the monastery and now he searches to bring his quest to an end by searching for the most powerful demon there is, hoping that once gone light will be restored to the world.

Goals/Ambitions: 1: To bring light of god back to the world
2: To purify his soul so one day he will sit at the right hand of Sigmatur


* * * *

Markus stood looking south towards the great desert. He had not been to this place for two years and the scars still showed from the last time, when he had fought a great demon, two days the battle lasted before the demon was final defeated. Markus stood his hammer standing next to him he contemplated his back cast in light from the fire, he thought of the last few weeks travel, getting to know the different members preaching the way of his god Sigmatur and the destruction of full demons the only way into heaven.

His companions and he had also overcome there own trials in the travel north, from bandits to the small menial task of getting a cat out a tree for a small girl. But yet these trials had brought them all together and his feels towards half demons had changed, once seeing them as those who have evil tendencies. Now he saw them as lost souls looking for the good within them selves, so he grew to like Will, as he was a lively character always there to pick the party's spirits up with a tune from his flute or a light hearted song of heroes of old. There were others like the Aeal, who he still couldn't understand. he was a strange creature, filled with ,matters that could seem trivial to most but to him could keep him satisfied, but still in a fight he was a companion Markus was pleased to have.

Markus stood for awhile before turning back towards the fire, it seemed his presence here had not been noticed by the demons that infested the area, he got himself a name is this part of the world which had spread, that name was the 'Sear Mourn' or in the common human tongue 'The Oncoming Storm'.

Markus took a seat before speaking up "So do we have a plan for tomorrow"

'Howling dog', said Aëal peacefully to himself, fingers in his mouth. If someone turned to look at him after his odd words, he did not know. What he did know that a dog was howling, far in the distance. A vulture, soaring above their heads, had told him that.

Yes, talking to animals is a quality rare seen, even amongst people like him. He chewed on his fingers, curious about their taste. He was more a dog than a man; his relationships were as such. He changed from his old sitting position to something more comfortable, fingers still in his mouth. 'Burning shelter', he then said as peacefully as before. The Oncoming Storm was talking about a plan tomorrow, but that was beyond Aëals matters. An extra hard chew on the finger, and he made the most adorable 'owie' sound. He then leant his neck to the right, looked up to his left, and tried to absorb any words from the birds. 'Food to the east', he then said, and turned his head to where east could possibly be. His intentions were obviously to leave towards the carcass to the east, and hear the gossip of the animals gathered there. Vultures knew a lot about a lot.

He stared to the east, awaiting what the others would say. Obviously, they had heard all of his talking; it was no silent murmur.

Mandalore sat in the half-light cast by the fire, *how long had he been here?* he thought to himself..wondering how long he'd been on the mortal plane. He'd been sent by his current employer to kill, or corrupt this party, but for some reason, respect most likely, he could'nt.
He watched the others going about thier buissness, a slight smile slide across his face..is this what a family is like? he wonderedhe knew it coulndnt last forever, yet somehow it seemed like it would, even the priest, who rarely saw eye to eye with Mandalore, was a respected..if not outright enjoyed companion.
he rubbed his hands over his new face, he only went to his natural appearance in times of great need, or when he was absolutly alone..but he currently bore blackish/purpleish hair and iron grey eyes, along with a matching goatee.

He pulled out his vampiric dagger and began to sharpen it on his whetstone, it'd been chinked a few days before while the group had been fighting a demonic warlord..nasty bit of work he was, his lips twisted into a sneer as he thought about how brutal & grotesque it was.

Nyx's Bio

Name: Nyx

Age: 27

Race: Human

Class: Necomrancer

Alignment: Neutral

Height: 6’1”

Weight: 160lbs

Physical Description: Nyx is quite skinny, and as a gaunt face. He has very little muscle, yet that which he does have is toned and trained. He has long almost skeletal fingers, and hands. His hair is a dark brown, and cropped short, he has no facial hair.

Clothing: Nyx wears black hooded robes, which have many pockets within them. The hood is deep, and does well in concealing Nyx face, even in daylight. While in public, or untrusted company, Nyx wears a black half mask, over one side of his face. This mask is used to hide the deep tattooing that marks him as a Necomrancer, and a wielder of dark magi. Over Nyx’s robes, is a thick travelling cloak, used to help protect the frail necomrancers form, from chilled winds or other unkindly elements. On his feet, is a pair of armoured boots, and is the only armour he wears. The metal on Nyx’s boots, is a deep red, as the have been enchanted with demonic powers.

Equipment: The enchanted boots that Nyx wears, are not the only demonic item Nyx carries. A small, reddish black dagger is strapped to his bare chest. This dagger is not enchanted with demonic powers however. It was forged of demons, in the deep pits of the ninth hell and thus is an artefact of great evil, value, and majesty. This dagger is Nyx’s passion. For his entire life he has searched for relics, or artefacts of the Gods, and the Dagger is his reward. But the dagger is much more than an artefact to Nyx; it is a sign of hope. For this dagger proves Nyx’s efforts are not futile. He is not stated by the dagger, it is only the proof he needs to convince him self that his goal is achievable. A set of Unholy Demonic Armour, and Weapons. And a set of Holy Angelic artefacts of the same attire.

(ooc: Well, that may have not much to do with equipment, but I fit it in so there.)
Nyx however, would never use the dagger in a fight, unless he was using it against a Fully Fledged Demon, or Angel. Using it against a mortal, or half mortal being would be insulting the dagger, and its maker. Instead he uses his magical abilities or a large dagger of dwarven make. Nyx also carries a variety of spell components as well as other items essential to an adventurer.

Talents/Skills: Nyx is gifted in the arts of guile and stealth. His boots are enchanted to eliminate any noise, which he may make while walking, and thus he is very apt at moving around unnoticed, or sneaking up on an unsuspecting foe. He is quite agile, as his muscles are trained well. He could dive under a sword, have a dagger past armour, and be out of range again, without getting touched. Well, he could if he wasn’t encumbered by his robes.

Powers/Abilities: Nyx wields the dark magi of the Necomrancer. Necomrancy, which is generally a frowned upon art, is not just corpse manipulation and undead summoning as most believe it to be. Nyx personally avoids that area of his magi, as it is much to taxing, and complicated to cast, if caught unawares. Nyx prefers the more subtle spells. Such as causing temporary blindness, or confusion, or suffocating a victim in a thick mist.

(ooc: I have no list of spells in mind if that’s what you’re looking for. I most of the spells casts will be made up as a situation which requires a certain affect is encountered. If at any time you believe that I am using magic in a way that gives me an unfair advantage, please tell me and I will correct any error of judgement.)

Background Information: Nyx was raised in a chapel by a Knight turned priest. He grew up hearing stories of the great feats accomplished by the heroes of the Gods. He learned to envy their fame, their success, and their immortality in the history of men. When he was still young Nyx decided he would take his place among them in history, but he would not be a hero of the Gods, as the others, he would be a hero of Men. He believed that the Knights in the stories were only successful because of the gifts the Gods bestowed upon them. Blades, maces, armour and other such things, that made these men heroes. But Nyx did not want to be gifted by the Gods. He did not want to be a pawn in their game. He would find his own Relics, his own items of power. He would recover the artefacts from the old tales, and he would wield them in a way the Gods did not intend, and he would become the most renowned hero of all time.

Goals/Ambitions: (ooc: Take a wild guess from the background information. If you guessed anything but obtaining relics or artefacts, you did not read my bio.)


The actual post

Nyx sat amongst the others, watching the fire. He, like most, was in deep thought. He knew they thought about their journey, and how it all lead up to this, single point. The battle with the ever-hated Necomrancer. Nyx frowned as he thought this. They came all this way, to take a treasure from a man who had done nothing to any of this group. No doubt he had taken lives, and ruined others, but what had he done to any present that deserved an assault and murder? Any fighting done the next day, would be only in self-defence on his part. But the others dignified it, with such words as evil, or vile. None of them even knew this mans (or women’s) name. And yet, he was to be killed on the belief that he is a Necomrancer, and so he is bad.

Nyx stroked his mask. This was not the first time he thought this. But how could he say anything, without giving up his own identity? Would they turn against him, because he, Nyx, was a Necomrancer? Did that make him inheritably evil? He did grow up in a church, with a priest didn't he? Was his profession evil, because the goal was immortality?

Questions raced through his mind. How come none of the others had brought this up? Did none of them see that this man, wan inheritly innocent? Or did the thought of treasure and knowledge simply brush what they knew was right, aside? That was the only reason Nyx was prepared to do this. He would have any artefacts that this Necomrancer had obtained. He would take this mans immortality, to further his own. But he didn't have to like it.

More questions. What if he knew the man? Nyx had known many Necomrancers throughout his life. Hell, he lived with a cult of them for several years while he completed his apprenticeship. If he saw a face he recognized as a friend, how would he react? How would the other man react? He would see it as a betrayal, he would expose Nyx for what he was, and then what would the others do? Surly they would see by now that he, Nyx, is not in fact evil. Maybe they will believe he had deceived them, and was working with the other Necomrancer. Would they figure him out when he started casting banish spells on the undead, as if he were the one who summoned them?

Too many questions. Too many lies. To many thoughts of what was right and what was wrong. Nyx head was spinning with guilt, and angst, and confusion. He removed his heavy traveling clock for the first time in days, and stood up, straightening his robes. He was going for a walk, to clear his mind.

Nyx was on the edge of the groups circle when he heard Will call his name, asking the question, that Nyx had been avoiding and dodging and twisting, since the first day the group had formed. He was in too deep now. Better tell him, then to be caught in a lie during combat. "Come Will. Walk with me and I will tell you."

OOC: Quick break from work to check this. Uh Kargoth, I didn't officially approve you. In fact I've never seen your character up til this point. Hmm, although you do seem like you have a interesting character from the quick look-see I did, I'll need you to atleast delete your IC post and let me look your character over thoroughly and approve you. This game REQUIRES GM approval, by me, before you may play. But from the glance I did of your character and post, you seem like you may fit in nicely . Will be checking back later tonight and postin ya'll!

Name: Charcon, Also called the Dragon Lord

Age: 3520

Hight: 6'10

weight: 300 lbs

Race: Dragon trapped in a human body.

Class: Technically he's most like a dark night

Apperance: Pale skin, with pitch black hair, that is cut to a medium length, pushed back and coming down to about the middle of his neck. His eyes are deep red and sometimes appear to be reptilian. He is strong, bound with heavy muscle that give him a thick set appearance

Allignment: Pure Evil, but not chaotic, he is in control of himself.

Clothing: He wears plain black clothes and a matching cloak, with tall leather boots.

Equipment: none

Abillities: He has great physical strength, being able to lift up to five tons. He has magics, but they are mostly raw and untaimed, allowing him to preform powerful but simple spells, such as small earth quakes, summoning up wind, reading the mind of those unable to resist his probing, and other forms of elemetal magic.

Talents/skills: Very intelligent and good at hand to hand combat. Very persuasive speaker. Has hightened sences of sight, smell and hearing.

Background: Charcon was once a powerful Dragon. He was also cruel, and evil. He brought much strife apon the lands for he believed that dragons were the superior form of life, and thus deserved to rule over all others. In the end though, he was defeated transformed into a human for his punishment, and imprisoned for what was supposed to be all time. He escaped however, and seeks to reclaim his dragon form. But to do this, he must find the talismans of the five wizards who changed him, for there in was his true body trapped. He has hunted them found three of the five wizards to be dead, taking their talismans for his own, and thus regaining some of his original traits. His strength, his magic, and his mind sight. The other two he hunts even now. With every talisman he gains, he becomes stronger.

Ambitions: He would regain his true form so he may once again bring his war apon the world, that he might rule it.

Charcon sat within the forest, collecting himself. He held the amulet in his hands and concentrated on the power there in. Soon the amulet began to glow an angry red. Charcon began to mutter an incantation which the amulet seemed to be responding to. It rose from his hands and floated infront of him. The glow pulsated and pulled away from the amulet. the light stretched for him as though longing to join Charcon once more. Then, all at once, the light shot forward into his chest and left the amulet completely. Absorbing the power, he felt himself become a little more whole. His eyes snapped open to reveal a red glow like that of the power that had just become one with him. It soon faded however and he smiled.

"My mind sight is returned to me." He whispered to himself. Looking over he saw a rabbit not far off. Deciding to test his returned power, he reached forth with the tendrals of his mind, and ensared the rabbit, forcing his will apon it. -Run- He told it, and watched as it took off as fast as it could, running head long into a tree, smashing its own brains in. It would kill itself before it would disobey his whim. Smiling to himself he stood and walked through the trees in the direction he knew the necromancer's lair was. He soon saw a light through the tree's and discerned that it was a camp. He heard voices of people in the midst of conversation . He would have passed them by except for he heard them mention the necromancer. He moved closer and listened intently. -What are these people about- He thought as he crouched just out of the light's reach.

Name: Skallagrim Cughtagh
Age: at time of death 40, combined age 70 years.
Race: Xindhi (the risen)
Class: Assassin/Rogue
Alignment: Lawful Neutral Evil
Height: 6’0”
Weight: 160 lbs.

Physical Description: Skeletal with ragged bit’s of dried flesh. Empty eye sockets glowing with the green energies that imbue the Xindhi with their life energies. Skallagrim has remnants of hair on his head.

Clothing:Skallagrim wears blackened chain and leather armor. Large leather boots and wide double sword belts. He wears a long, thick hooded cloak that is a black lined with a deep crimson inner lining. His face is covered with a mask so that with his hood pulled low, only the green light that emanates from his eyes can be seen.

Equipment: Skallagrim wears thick leather bracers on his arms, coupled with chain gloves backed with leather to protect his hands. He wears a translucent crimson amulet that has the image of a horse on it. He carries a war sword on his left hip and a large seax on his right hip. Both of these blades are kept with a keen edge and are blackened and nicked by years of usage. On the blades the names of his children are etched in the Xindhi language. Keefe on the war sword, Rhiannon on the seax.
Skallagrim has a brace of 6 throwing daggers that cross his chest in a thick baldric and carries a pair of truncheons strapped to his right thigh.

Talents/Skills: Skallagrim is a skilled dual weapon fighter. He was at one time a carpenter before he died and was reborn. He has spent the last 25 years honing his skill at fighting heavily armored and armed opponents and has learned the weakness of heavy armor. Over the last 15 years as a member of the Death’s Kiss assassins he has learned the use of various plants as poisons and their corresponding antidotes.

Powers/Abilities: Being risen he has no need to eat nor sleep. When damaged he can slowly regenerate himself, however the extent of the damage dictates the amount of time it takes him to reassemble. Surprisingly he is able to move with extreme grace and agility. He has the increased strength of the risen, equal to 20 men, by virtue of the magic that courses through all Xindhi. He can summon his skeletal mount by touching his necklace and calling it from the shadow realms. His sword and dagger also confer some powers to him.

His sword Keefe is a great war sword. The 36” long black blade is nicked and notched through years of use, the heavy steel hilt has runes carved into it from a language long forgotten, the 8” handle allows for both a single or two handed grip. The sword is 44” long giving him a very effective reach. It glows with an eerie pale blue glow and can cleave through magic effects as if they were paper.

His seax Rhiannon is wide with it’s blade measuring 17” long and two inches wide, the blade is shrouded in a black pulsating mist that seems to have a life of it’s own. The thick 5” handle is covered in hide from an animal that legends only speak of. When his dagger strikes an opponent, if they have a life essence, it drains part of it away leaving them slightly weaker, ever hungry it seeks to bite deeply into living creatures.

Background Information: Skallagrim was a simple carpenter before he was slain during the war of light and dark when the dark gods schemed to create a race of risen who would fight with the intelligence of humans. However they didn’t realize that with intelligence comes awareness. The Xindhi under the leadership of the Shadow Court fled broke free of their dark bonds to establish a homeland in the wastes of the world. They struggle to survive and continually battle the Light and Dark, both whom want to destroy them.

Goals/Ambitions: Skallagrim knows his wife Arrica is buried in a sepulcher in the lands of the Light. He also knows his children maybe alive and seeks to find them. So he strives to become a trusted champion of the Shadow Queen and obtain the freedom that the Queen gives her champions to explore the world in order to gain intelligence on her foes. Skallagrim is driven by the memories of his children, which neither the Shadow Queen nor the Dark can extinguish.


In Character

Skallagrim sat alone, the glowing green energies that comprised his eyes gazed with intent upon all his companions. The howl of the lonesome dog echoed across the desert. The human with his lover reminded Skallagrim of his own lost wife Arrica, lost to the evil that caused the bones that made up his long dead body to raise and live on. Skallagrim focused on the female for a long moment. His thoughts drifting to a time when he was a man of flesh and blood, his dear Arrica clung to him the way this female did with William. William, such a fine name, a noble name. Clacking his teeth Skallagrim turned away from the duo, and tapped his seax and war sword…his children, Rhiannon and Keefe.

A puff of wind swirled around and created a small dust devil. Skallagrim watched with mild amusement when he heard the voice of one of his companions. Turning to them he pondered them. This odd collection of the holy and profane amused him in a way that would be impossible to explain to any whom didn’t ride with them.

The priest, Rott…no Ritt, Markus Ritt, he intrigued Skallagim. He seemed pious enough, more or less a holy man with a huge club, ready to beat faith into any whom would be willing. Yet for all his faith, he seemed to accept the dark that surrounded him. Skallagrim flashed an eerie death’s head grin, Markus Ritt even accepted the presence of a bag of bones such as he.

Aëal, the bare-chested warrior dressed in red. This man? Elf? This lean-limb creature of odd habits. He fought with a precise and devastating nature, one that utilized his body as a weapon. This flesh creature held secrets that Skallagrim hoped to one day discover.

The demonic assassin, what was it’s name again? Mandible? Matterhorn? No …Mandalore Thux. Red and black with jaundiced eyes. He carried an interesting assortment of weapons. Skallagrim admired the creatures skill, it seemed they were in the same line of work, professionally speaking. Although he had noticed a fatal weakness…Mandalore was cocky and overly sure about his skill against mere humans. One could hear it when he talked of past battles, the demonic pride…their curse, their weakness.

Nyx…now this one was interesting. Skallagrim felt a strange twinge when he was in close proximity to him. If it weren’t for the fact that Skallagrim was dead they could have passed as brothers. They were the same height almost and the same weight. Hades beard they even looked like one another, save for the glowing green points of light in Skallagrims skull. Yes this Nyx was a man of many contradictions. He was driven in a way that Skallagrim had seen in few humans. Something, some obsession drove the frail looking human onward. Secrets. Perhaps one day.

Skallagrim gazed at them all again. As he did so his mind touched on the last few weeks, with each of them. Each was unique, special, different. Yet for all that, for their obvious differences they held many similarities. Those similarities are probably what has bonded them in a way that only fate could.

Skallagrim heard Nyx ask to walk with William. The green energies followed Nyx, who stood at the rim of the fire light of the others. Clearly the humans had to discuss something of import. The gaunt human was in conflict apparently something was weighing upon him and he needed the words of another. Odd though he didn't choose the priest. The flickering firelight cast its orange pallor upon the rest as they sat doing mundane tasks. Sharpening weapons or feeding.

Hearing Markus speak Skallagrim scrutinized the man. His worn and tattered robe, his massive warhammer, which to Skallagrim looked like nothing more than a heavy club with knobs, seemed to represent the man. Solid, heavy but something that could instill fear in those opposed it.

Standing Skallagrim chuckled as he moved closer to the group, his voice eerie and gravelly carried in the evening air. "The plan? I assume the plan would be to not die." Looking at the odd Mandalore sharpening his dagger, Skallagrim squatted down near him and stared at the weapon. The dagger seemed a wondrous, deadly piece of metal. The green lights in the hollow eye-sockets traced the contours of the creature before him. While Skallagrim saw the true form apparently others could not, being dead had it's advantages.

"Master Mandalore, I have noticed you enjoyed, nay relished the slaying of the last creature we fought. Do you glean so much pleasure from dispatching just demons or in all you slay?"

Everything was peaceful for Aëal. He wasn't hungry, wasn't thirsty, he was warm, and he was not scared. His white skin was reflecting the light from the fire, rendering him even clearer than the brightest sun. He had already greeted all the vegetation and animals they passed, so that was no trouble either. He slowly eyed everyone sitting around or close by the fire. He then looked at the fire. He did quite miss real food, and it had been a long time since he had any. He wondered if anyone could prepare food for him; just a snack.
'Eh wra. Setsköyen, wra![Ey man. Look here, man.]', he said to Markus. 'Can you make food? Do you know someone who can? I'm hungry. Haven't had real food, qawre [brother], in like a month, g'laike [you hear me]? I want some real food. Can you make some? I wonder if you can make some. Do you know someone else who can? I want som real food.' he said really hastily. But since he has such a bass voice, the haste in the talking wasn't as big as you would imagine.

He shaked his head and searched the ground with his fingers for something to stuff himself with. A bug crawled onto his right hand, and as he raised it, looking like he'd eat it, he slowly dropped it with a 'Kolome, qawre [Easy, brother]'. Then he turned up to face Markus, and await his or someone elses response.

Mandalore laughed softly Skallagrims not dying comment, "Well, that leaves you out then my carrion companion" he joked, Skallagrim and himself were quite alike in thier base natures..both were killers of exeptional skill, and neither completely human. Mandalore looked sideways at Skallagrims question "Well, killing is my job.I take pride in my skill..the greater the foe slain, the greater my satisfaction..no matter what im killing" he sheaths his dagger and slowly draws out his pride and joy, the demonic longsword known as "VIVISECTOR" an intelligent blade capable of a great many things, sharp enough to cut through steel and left horrific bleeding wounds..there were other abilities that the monsterous blade had as well, though not even Mandalore knew them all, he held the crimson blade out by its handle, looking like an open demonic moulth as it rose to the pommel, two horns came out to make a good hilt "Since you admire good weaponry, here's somthing for you to see be careful though, she bites" he said with a wink.

OOC: I've looked at your character Kargoth, and he's a good one. Only thing is that be sure to not get godly with your abilities and what not . Welcome to the game!

Will took Nyx's offer of a walk up, after sitting for a moment and listening to what the others had to say to one another. Mandalore, a demon warrior and assassin they'd come across a few days after Reddendale, was discussing some of the finer points of his profession with Skallagrim. Skallagrim, an undead warrior for some Dark Queen or some such, had joined them, but he hadn't said much to Will along the lines of his personal motive for joining them. No matter, help was help, and Will wouldn't deny those that would join them.

Will jumped up from his sitting position in front of his wife, as he turned and kissed her cheek. "I'll return soon my love." He said, as he sidled up next to Nyx and they walked away from the fire. Will checked to make sure his dagger was securely holstered on his hip, and when they were a little ways into the woods, with the firelight barely visible through the various trees, Will stopped. "So, my friend, you had something to discuss with me? And should you want it to remain secret, you have my word I shall not betray your words." Will said with a smile.

Skallagrim peered at the sword. "Truly a wondrous weapon Mandalore, one that will serve you faithfully. I myself carry my children with me at all times, they are never far from my sight." Skallagrim chuckled as he patted the war sword and seax on his sword belt. "Keefe and Rhiannon have never failed to protect their father."

Observing the odd man, elf, humanoid thing that wore red speak its native tongue Skallagrim shook his head. Nodding towards Aëal Skallagrim spoke "Oi! What is that you say?" This one was something new. His mannerisms and behaviors were not that of normal humans. Even during the last few days as they rode together Aëal always struck Skallagrim as something beyond his understanding. For now at least.

The green lights seemed to increase in brightness as he watched Aëal lift a bug then place it down and turn back to the priest. Cocking his head to the side he murmured to Mandalore "I have see a few strange things, hell's hammers I am an odd thing. But he, it, Aëal is truly something I have never seen before."

Charcon listened to those around the fire and gained very little from what they were saying. One, the skelletal warrior, mentioned that the plan was to not die. Could they possibly be planning an attack on the necromancer? Well he would likely never find out much from hiding in the shadows. He walked back a few paces and got ready to make his entrance. "Hello?" He called as he began to make his way back through the brush, but in a much noisier fassion. Pretending to stumble through the bushes just out side their camp, he gave them all a bewidered look. "Oh, well, I saw your campfire and wondered if you might help me?" He asked in polite tone. "I heard some one mention the Necromancer, are you going to his tower as well?"

OOC-lol..thanks man, hes an actual charater I use in planescape so he should be fine..


"Im sure they do" Mandalore said with a sly grin, he knew that Skallgrim was a skilled killer..they were seemingly on equal ground in that sense. The shapeshifting assasin looked up sharply at the newcomer "Oh sure..We'll just waltz up to his tower and knock on the door.." He rolls his eyes slightly, grinning..its unclear if he's serious or not "Who are you anyways?.."

OOC: No problem buddy . And just so we all know (I'll also mention this again when we get there) the Necro's lair is a two level keep, a building long abandoned from it's original builder's and ruler. The lands of Sepe see many leaders rise and fall, ruins of this type are common.

IC: Will had just asked Nyx what he wished to speak of, when he heard someone crashing through the bushes, in a very non-chalant fashion, towards their camp. 'Who in the Nine Hells is that?' Will wondered, as he peered toward the camp, but he couldn't see any details on the newcomer's appearance. Will kept his hand on his dagger, and was ready to run toward the camp if there was any trouble. He didn't want his party hurt, and he surely didn't want to see his wife harmed. He then turned his attention back to Nyx, but he kept his ears open for any noises of distress.

OOC: All players please refer to the OOC thread and atleast look at what I just wrote, would like ya'll's opinion . Later!

The sounds of someone coming noisily towards them prompted a quick response from Skallagrim. He whirled about drawing his blades. The black pulsating seax held in front of him, low. While his war sword held behind him, the point angled towards the ground. Both knees bent slightly, the left leg forward and pointed towards the noise.

The very large, massive man that stepped into the flicker rim of light wore all black. He appeared to have no weapons, but Skallagrim stood warily. He had seen ambushes, he had seen one distract many only to have the many slain by their lack of suspicion of strangers.
The thick corded muscles and crimson eyes told Skallagrim all he needed to know. This was no mere human. This was something more, something dangerous.

The eerie, gravelly voice of Skallagrims carried in the evening air, "Ha...You presume we are going to see yon necromancer on a social call?" The sword and pulsating dagger held at the ready. Skallagrim was prepared to attack or defend if he had too from the mysterious man in black.