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by saranm on Mon Feb 16, 2009 2:20 pm
hello,
this is something i got the idea for awhile before i came here and now that i am in a RPing site i would like to try to get it started.
This story is about a group of traders (in a mythical universe) (dont be discouraged if your char is from earth just pretend he/she has been there) it takes place in a desert full of raiders, monster, corrupt law, so-on so-forth. i would like to keep this between 10 or so guildies but... whatever.
post your character, make stats ( nothing incredibly powerful please) and so on.
i realize that i probably left alot of things blank... but please PM me with questions its easier for me to explain that way and it is an important question ill post it here.
anyway here is my char,
Char Name: Vash Shaper
Char Age: 19
Char Gender: male
Char Loacation: as of present people can only guess if he is down in the mines or out in the desert "I am where I am"
Char Type (what are you): "what am I? thats a good question the name has changed generation too generation but i believe the term is wolfman"
Char Appearance: light, almost golden, brown eyes
messy dirty blonde hair, wears a red long sleeved shirt with his family crest of two triangles inside of a square with light brown pants that go down to his calves. "The keyword is 'Wolfman' not 'werewolf' "
appears to be a kind kid... "Do I look harmless?"
Char Likes: metals, buildings, books, and plants "no need to harm yourself i can lift it"
Char Dislikes: arrogant people who think they are too good for this world, those who prey on the weak, those who cause pain for thier own enjoyment, vegitables "sick bastards! trying to poison me with that damned carrot! "
There is a differnce between werewolf and wolfman wolfmen/women have more control and can transform when they want.
i became a wolfman when i was wandering in the woods when i was eight i was bitten but luckily my mother was able to get rid of the worst of the lycanthropy
i seek to understand and be understood nothing more and nothing less
my weapons of choice arent my claws but instead i choose to use my speed to run around the battlefield with either my two six shooters my father gave me (engraved with fangs on each bullet slot) or my tri-barreled shotgun i won in a bet (dont ask about the bet i promised never to discuss it again
Last edited by
saranm on Tue Feb 17, 2009 9:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Sad, terribly sad" said the reader to the writer, "one of the characters in my book died." The writer smiled "I know the feeling, so did mine."
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