Announcements: Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas » Empty Skies » Does Mind Affect the World? » I have an announcement. » Iskjerne Ballad by dealing_with_it » Viking Music / Norse Songs - Germanic Paganism »

Players Wanted: Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted » DEAD! » Looking for new RP Buddy(s)! » Sands of Oblivion » Looking for Role Players to join an active universe » Looking for Empire of Cendalia Players » Seeking Roleplayers for The Isekai Wonderland Project » Hadean The Brave - Fresh Blood »


Sarot Ari Markas

0 · 227 views · located in New Bodhum

a character in “Final Fantasy: The Shadow Pact”, as played by GeNeTiX


Sarot Ari Markas
"I protect what new things I've found, in memory of old things that I've lost,
but what purpose is had when the outcome is outweighed by cost?"

Basic Details

Hometown: New Bodhum (formerly from Sarot)
Age: 22 (appearance - real age unknown)
Gender: Male
Race: Human (Former Pulse L'Cie)
Occupation: Hunter
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual


ImagePerhaps a little out of his element, Markas' outfit
puts him at home in the frozen wastes of the north.

Physical AttributesImage

Weight: 182 lbs
Height: 6'2"
Build: Athletic, not overly toned.
Skin Tone: Pale caucasian.

Hair: White, messy
Eyes: Blue
Facial Features: Clean-shaven
Distinguishing Body Features: A blue tribal pattern on the left side of his neck, which he has has since he was young. He has a sealed l'Cie brand on his left arm, just above the wrist - it appears covered with clear crystal


Head: The hood of his coat, normally when angered or trying to hide emotions, or when travelling/in combat.
Torso: Grey tunic style shirt under a raised-neck light-grey textured coat, with a blue lining, which has a similar grey hood. The coat is laced with blue patterns, each a mark of proficiency as a Sarotian Hunter.
Arms: The sleeves of the coat stretch the full length of his arms, and are bound with dark-grey leather bracing on the forearms. On his left upper sleeve, there is a badge depicting a hunting bird swooping down to attack its prey - the badge of the Sarotian Hunter's Guild.
Legs: Long dark-grey textured pants, with additional pockets on the outside of each knee.
Feet: Lightweight, black hunting boots, designed for optimal grip on uneven surfaces.
Accessories: Broad, black belt, with a rounded, silver buckle, engraved with a bird of prey.


Markas is a strong, resilient person, determined to never let emotions cloud his decisions, or distract him from what is truly important. Whilst he finds some comfort in companionship, he finds it difficult to truly open up to people, because nothing lasts forever. He is capable of showing compassion, especially whenever doing so could provide some beneficial effect for whatever goal he is trying to achieve. Having been in stasis for an unknown period of time, he is rightfully confused by this new world, and the changes in the way of living as compared to maybe a millennia ago. He is still affected by the loss of his family and friends, but is slowly coping with it by blanking it out.

It is difficult to truly anger Markas, unless you've backstabbed him or lied to him about something important. Being strung along makes him feel like he is at fault for not being a better judge of character, and any trust he had in you will be completely blown. He sticks up for his companions, regardless of his beliefs on the matter. In general conversation, Markas is usually late to speak, mainly because he wants to be heard as a possible solution to a problem, not a 'we should do this now' kind of guy. Listening to other's ideas usually puts you in good stead to better understand their thinking and predict their actions.

Markas likes a few things about the new world he finds himself in, namely a food known as pizza, and advances in weapons tech he's seen to date. He's a fan of the colour blue, and likes cool, quiet places, especially forests (you know, minus the vicious creatures trying to eat you...). He doesn't like dealing with people having emotional breakdowns, loud rave music, or deserts.

His strongest quality is his ability to just phase out the nonsense and drama, and see clearly what he believes must be done, though he believes this isn't just psychological - he thinks he is being guided towards his destiny by the Maker.

His biggest flaw is his inability to come to terms with emotions. He would rather run away or fight them than embrace them, for fear that it will break him when those emotions fade.

ImageKnowing your enemies, and where their strengths lie,
often lays their weaknesses on a platter.

Weapon: Strongbow
Physical Class: Hunter

Carried Items: 12" Hunting blade, given to him by the Sarotian Hunter's Guild upon attaining his full status. It folds into the white and blue handle, inscribed with:
"May the spirits guide you"
He also wears a metal wristband on his right wrist engraved with a form of Old Pulsian - it's a dead language nowadays, so it's unlikely that anyone who is not Pulse-born at least 700 years ago will be able to translate it. It's notable that he uses it as a medium for his prayers, often clasping his left hand over it.

Magical Class: Caster
Elemental Strengths: None
Elemental Weaknesses: None

Eidolon: Unknown, either due to never having lost hope, or having forgotten after first focus.

ImageA born hunter from the settlement of Sarot, Markas' story
has spanned unvoiced over a thousand years.

Markas grew up in the town of Sarot, in the Northern Expanses of Gran Pulse, raised to be a hunter, as was the way for the vast majority of the Ari clan - it was a way of living. He lived with his parents until age 10, at which point, he was taken on as an apprentice in the Sarotian Hunter's Guild. He served his 5 years as apprentice to master hunter, Sarot San Jediah, before completing his task of stalking and killing a particularly dangerous Jackwing (a bird of prey, larger than a man, and capable of lifting the weight of 10 grown men) through the infinite wastes of the North, to achieve his status as a master hunter by age 16.

Shortly after, a hunting trip led him to stumble into the reach of the Fal'Cie Shelka, who assigned him a focus that has long been forgotten, but successfully completed, and so, Markas was placed into a crystal sleep, to await a time when he would be needed again. The direct result of this is that he no longer has his friends or family, or knowledge of what has happened. As if to make things worse, he doesn't recall his completed focus, or what effect it has had on the world.

He awoke in a cave outside the city of New Bodhum, in the year of 199 AF, with no idea of how his crystal came to be there, so far from the vestige of the Fal'Cie Shelka where he came to rest, and no focus or abilities. Perhaps the gods have had mercy, and wish him to lead a full life in this time... or maybe there is a greater purpose. In despair, he tries to find a purpose in hunting the creatures surrounding New Bodhum, in hope that the rest will come naturally.

So begins...

Sarot Ari Markas's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sarot Ari Markas Character Portrait: Khronica Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by GeNeTiX
The time is at hand. They will come. They will. Fate is not simply avoided...
Provocation, inspiration - it's all the same.
Bait, like worms in a barrel of fish.
The piranhas will surface soon.

* * * * *

The string pulls back silently, as a young, hooded man lines up his shot - a juvenile Jackwing, perched carelessly in the open, lower branches of the forest North of New Bodhum. He feels the air brushing his fingers, instinctively telling him to correct his aim to compensate. A last moment taken to steady himself - followed by the soft whisper of the arrow flights scraping the bow. The Jackwing never knew what had hit it, an arrow plunged straight into it's upper body through the right wing, toppling it from the perch to land with a soft thud on the browning leaves of the undergrowth.

Content with his shot, Markas approaches his prey, withdraws the arrow, and secures the kill with his trusty knife. This'll fetch a fair price at market, no doubt. Jackwings are getting rarer... which means I must be doing my job right... Taking the bird by the feet, he binds it with fishing line, and places it in a sack with the other trophies from today's hunt. He mumbles a few words of prayer in Old Pulsian, as a mark of thanks for the luck he has been blessed with today.

"That'll do..." he mutters to himself, looking into the bag. "Off to Odyssia, my friends. The locals can have at you." A slight grin graces his hidden eyes - there are few things more satisfying than a good haul, but a slap-up meal certainly comes close. Slinging the brown sack over his shoulder, opposite his bow, he makes his way back to town, his left hand resting on his knife - you never know when a hungry creature awaits behind a tree for you...

* * * * *

Remarkably, nothing seemed to go wrong as he leaves the forest, entering the North gate of New Bodhum with his haul. Still early... Might be able to catch the ferry if I hurry.

He picks up the pace, never normally a problem, because it's unlikely anyone would attempt to stop him for a conversation, but the sack itself weighs the same as a grown man, so he doesn't push himself too hard. Eventually, he reaches the docks, observing that the town is pretty quiet for the end of the week - usually, the merchants flock out at the hint of dawn to set up for the rush of tourists headed to Odyssia and even for those who want to get a good spot on the beach.

Undeterred by this knowledge, he heads to the booking office, and books a ticket on the first crossing to Odyssia. Despite not leaving for another half an hour, he boards the ferry, and takes the time to rest up, before the boat gets crowded.

The setting changes from Gran Pulse to New Bodhum


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rowan Lotton Character Portrait: Sarot Ari Markas Character Portrait: Victor Maxwell Character Portrait: Odyssia Frig Eona Character Portrait: Katia Fuuma Character Portrait: Khronica
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by GeNeTiX
They work so hard to find a calling,
they let time judge the worth of their labours,
but they come to find at the end of their time:
purpose is just a matter of perspective -

Your labours haven't even begun...

Sarot Ari Markas

Markas rests back in a weathered booth seat, that wouldn't look too out of place in a 50's diner, with its blue leathery upholstery. The bag of dead Jackwings lies under a spotless white table, thankfully sealed shut to prevent any odours escaping. He watches the tourists and merchants boarding the ferry for its first run of the day - an elderly couple in walking gear, a young family, a female NORA soldier. He notices something strange about her, as though he had seen her somewhere before - a dream half forgotten... and only a fraction clear.

Rather quickly, he finds himself drifting back to days of old, trying to find anything in his memory to help him recall her - nothing... He shrugs it off as being a coincidence and looks past her towards the distant island of Odyssia; despite the mystery surrounding it, it afforded him shelter, and the promise of a decent pay for his services, and even a hearty meal to top it off, which would do him good. Life as a stalker by profession can be uncertain at best; failure to track your prey can lead to some very long nights in the cold, and from Markas' own experience, any night out in the wild could be your last.

The boat is almost full now, bustling with tourists and folks hoping to catch a few bargains. Every table is occupied, except his own: a man in a hood with a dubious looking bag apparently carried prejudice... A horn is sounded, as a warning that the boat is going to depart, then only a minute later, it pulls away from the docks. Markas closes his eyes, and drifts away into a light snooze, living in the past with shadows of friends.

Carrus Research Facility, Hope's Reach

Numerous men in white protective suits enter the room, wheeling in cages each containing a wild animal - panthereons, gremlins, flans and more... Without uttering a word through their darkened visors, they push the twelve cages into the testing chamber for Maxwell's experimentation, before sealing the chamber and leaving the room.

An intern shudders and mutters to himself: "This is just, cruel..."
His friend nudges him: "Better here than in the hands of NORA... at least here they get fed, right?"
The first intern returns a blank look, and waits for Maxwell.

The Seiren Market, Odyssia

Eona's shock comes from the sight of numerous stalls knocked over by what would appear to have been gale force winds... however, the fact that only a handful of nearly a hundred stalls in the market have been affected, would suggest some kind of supernatural force. She can't help but wonder whether a l'Cie is behind this. There are two PSICOM soldiers here, enquiring with the stall owners to find out what happened, though from this distance, it is hard to make out what is being said.

The market itself is a normally a very busy place in the mornings, a fine labyrinth of stalls, cannily trying to trap tourists in a web of cheap wares and attractive bargains, however, this incident has drawn a crowd around the area, so things seem slow in the rest of the market.

As the PSICOM soldiers leave the shopkeepers to mend their stalls, one can be heard saying to the other, "Do we need to report this? Can we be sure there's a l'Cie behind this?"
His partner doesn't even pause to look at him. "Yes. There's a l'Cie here. We need to request back up - if there's a l'Cie here, it can't mean anything good for us. The question is, what were they looking for here, and why?"