Description

Zackary Kane

BASICS

::Name:: Zackary Kane
::Nickname::"Abel" "Lawgiver" "Peacemaker"
::Age::38
::Gender::Male
::Rank::11
::Race::Human
::Motivation::For Peace. For Valor. For Honor. For Peace.
::Defensive/Offensive::Defensive
::Class::Tank

APPEARANCE

::Eyes::Light storm cloud grey, now illuminates a pale ice blue.
::Hair::Pale Blond.
::Height:: 8' ft
::Weight::290lbs.
::Skin Tone::Olive.
::Build::Muscular.
::Body Markings::Strange glyphs in the form of tribal tattoos have etched themselves in to his rock hard skin.
::Voice:: His voice sounds distorted, but clearly understood. It is deep, and mechanical in nature when his helmet is on.

::Description::

Though very few except the top ten that over looked his transformation into a redeemer, and lived to tell the tale have told of a man fairly aged, possibly in his mid to late thirties. His complexion is war-torn; scars littering his visage and body alike. It is suggested that long marks, like those of a whips lash either from years of slavery, or the life of a soldier being punished, polysemous in nature, they are but examples of his dedication in a life of bondage whatever the circumstance. From the very few examples remaining, Zackary has stark blondish white hair, very light colored gray eyes that are reminiscent of storm clouds in the seasons.

Before the change, he stood roughly about six-foot-six as detailed by the accounts of others that seemed to make it out of one of many numerous fallen cites alive twelve years ago when the massacres began. According the accounts then he was well muscled for any man given the lax time period, granting all of this, he was not super humanly strong in any way and there were stronger men than him then as there are now. He was meticulous in his appearance, as Captain of the guard he groomed himself incredibly neatly and polished every ring of his chain mail, and every plate of his plate mail--from head to toe. He expected the same of his guardsmen, and those dissatisfying him met with the lashing of a whip.

Personality

Equipment

EQUIPMENT

::Armor:: Zackary is always clad in armor that is both beautifully crafted, polished to a venerate sheen with blood so embedded in the detailed markings that it actually appears as though it were a part of the original design. A brilliantly colored crimson mantle flows like silent death behind him.

::Carried Items:: Locket of his former wife and child, now long since deceased.

::Main Weapon::

• ::Name:: "La se désoler" "The Grieving","The Griever".
  
  
• ::Type:: Two-Handed Sword
  
  
• ::Made of:: Adamantine, a rich, and very hard metal found in falling stars. It is capable of shearing diamonds.
  
  
• ::Length:: 6 foot blade.
  
  
• ::Weight:: 16lbs.
  
  
• ::Description/Info:: Since his weapon is forged of foreign metal, this ultrahard metal adds to the quality of a weapon. Weapons fashioned from adamantine have a natural ability to bypass hardness when sundering weapons or attacking objects, ignoring the natural hardness of armors, carapaces and other weapons. Like "Mithril" it also is lighter than traditional steel weapons, however, its a bit heavier than standard Mithril-based weapons but keeps its edge better.

• ::Master Swordsman:: Zackary Kane with any bladed weapon is a dangerous foe, but with a sword, he becomes a tornado, a maelstrom of destruction. Capable of pulling off astonishing feats of prowess; movements so precise it's surgical. Every movement refined like writing elvish with a quill, and delivered with devastating effect that ever leave few standing after the first strike alone.
  
  
• ::Legendary Commander:: The hierarchy of the Redeemers has heard of the collapse of Illimar, and for his efforts, by association heard of the brave Captain of the guard who challenged monsters and held them at bay down to the last man. For his valiant, albeit, futile efforts this has left the younger Redeemers in admiration of his conviction, and the older ones, he is in high regards to. Even those that find his personality to strict, overbearing, or just don't like him for what he represents--such as Alister Crow--not easily swayed.
  
• ::Battle Hardened:: Extensive battle experience has left him incredibly calm and composed, even in the heat of battle.
  
• ::Blooded:: Knows what it means to fight for his life, and now he understands the value of quick wits and quicker reactions when blades are bared.
  
• ::Daunting Presence:: He is skilled at inducing fear in your opponents.
  
• :: Diehard :: Can remain conscious after attacks that would fell others.
  
• ::Dauntless :: Can stand up to greater punishment than most and still keep going.
  
• ::Diligent:: Meticulousness allows you to analyze minute details that others miss.

• ::Cleave Asunder::Is trained in following through when he breaks an opponent's weapon or shield.
  
  
• ::Master of Disarming::Despite his obvious hindrances, Zackary is surprisingly agile, and capable of disarming any foe.
  
• ::Arterial Strike:: Attacks target large blood vessels, leaving wounds that cause massive blood loss.
  
• ::Brute Fighting:: His extensive training with two-handed weapons is revealed through brutally effective tactics.
  
• ::Deadly Precision:: Emptying his mind of all distracting emotion, becoming an instrument of deadly precision.
  
• ::Final Strike:: His death throes are destructive.
  
• ::Hamstring:: Can wound his opponents' legs, hampering their movement.
  
• ::Knockback:: By putting his bulk behind a blow, he can push his enemy backward.
  
• ::Knock-Down::His mighty blows can knock foes off their feet.

• ::Slowness::Zackary may be quick on the draw, and have masterful finesse when it comes to wielding a sword, but he moves slowly rather in or out out of combat.
  
  
• ::Zealotry::His nature guides him to be honorable, and law abiding-always. There are no exceptions, if's and's or maybe's. There is no middle ground. This at times causes great conflict between he and other Redeemers who are not beholden to such ideals.

History

HISTORY

::Old Life::

• ::Martial Status::
  
  
  Wife: Isolde 23- Deceased
  
  Son: Tristram 6- Deceased
  
  Daughter: Artemisia- 4
  
  
  
• ::Family:: All Deceased.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• ::History:: His is a sad tale, but one of merit. Knights can not be simply made knights with blood and deed, but nor can you give a peasant a sword and expect him to fight any the wiser. Yet, for a great knight, a noble knight, a just knight--you must be willing to look beyond bloodlines, beyond monetary values. Indeed, Zackary was a serf in serfdom.
  
  Vilified as nothing more than property, branded like cattle Zackary's family were bondservants to a corrupt magistrate under the guise he was taking the poor off the streets, safe from freezing and starving to death, and placing them in fixed homes. In reality, the magistrate was slave smuggler, His penchant for greed gave him the capacity to capriciously divide households and separate families, forcefully if need be. From the time he could walk, Zackary knew what it was to be a slave. His first occupation was messenger, delivering notes,and even passing incredibly incriminating evidence between judges, and other "elected" officials that ran the city's infrastructure while the king ran the nation.
  
  Slaves, human or elven alike, were treated more appropriately like cattle, culled from birth and branded with red hot irons, of whose house he belonged to. The family Zackary belong to was Adrastus, which, ironically enough, meant "inescapable". Zackary was branded, like a calf, at age four. He was forcibly held prostrate and the brand placed between his shoulder blades, it was at this time he was also circumcised. His flesh and blood family could do nothing but watch, locked in their individual cells as their son was made 'normal'. By the age of seven, he had several new scars, lash marks mostly from where he tried to sneak extra food for his ailing mother. He was subsequently tied to a pole, and flogged by limber but sturdy poles, until he was unable to stand. This was done by his owner's son who not only would inherit his father's wealth, but his sadistic qualities as well.
  
  By the time he was done, Zack couldn't even crawl he was simply drug back to his cell. But, this event while terrible to watch for his parents and heard to bear for Zackary himself, Zackary did prove his strength of character. While he was being beaten, Adrastus' son, wanted Zack wanted compliance in making Zack tell himself, with every crack of the bludgeoning pole across his back that he was worthless. That he wouldn't amount to anything.If he did this, then it would only be fifteen lashes with the cane. Even Zack's parents, hollered and pleaded with their son to say it once the common fifteen lashes were surpassed. Yet, he didn't say a word, simply dug his nails into the pole until he had splinters under his fingernails and let his owner beat his body until a royal purple streak was cast over both shoulders.
  
  Still, there were some scars not inflicted by his cruel owners but by Zack himself. A tally system, carved into his very skin along one forearm, by a razor sharp obsidian from knapping. This shark's tooth size piece of volcanic glass cut, every day, each day, the number of days he had been a slave. It would be done so for the six-thousand five-hundred and seventy days he would be a slave, or eighteen years.
  
  By age 8, Zackary had a very crude education. That being self taught. He had an understanding of how to read the messages, unbeknownst to his slave owners knowledge. He read these messages and got a taste of education and this set in motion a fire that would send him to the top. First, he had to understand the content of what he was carrying on any given day at any given time. In time, a matter of a couple of months he soon figured out that officials were stealing from the king's coffers. Before he could make any sort of claim, however, his owners sent him to work in the mines to mine ore for metal and precious stones in the mountains. Most mineral and ore rich deposits were unsurprisingly close to the volcanoes unsurprisingly yet again, very few would go near these locations.
  
  Zackary undaunted by the prospect, yet fully aware of the risks took to daily mining in these locations. Most often they were up high, on top of a solitary pillar that stood free of a canyon wall. The canyon itself was two-hundred and twenty-seven miles long, took up one million two-hundred-eighteen-thousand three-hundred seventy-six acres of land
  and was five thousand feet deep at its basin. At its deepest, the canyon was six-thousand feet sheer vertical and took a two-day trip from base to the top by way of mule. Still, it was not the biggest canyon. Regardless of the scope, or size Zackary after only working the standard mines that had all but collapsed in on itself for only three months he tried the Canyon.
  
  No one knew why this child felt so strongly about wanting to commit suicide, few of them cared really. He was just another slave, or so they thought. Zackary failed in his first endeavor, only climbing a third of the way up from the base of the Canyon. It would be another six months before his second try. He would fail then too. It would aggravate Zackary, and cost him time away from the mines to make up for lack of production. He would spend the next ten years of his life in the mines, digging past coal to get to diamonds and burrowing through rock to get to the scraps of metal ore beneath.
  
  If there was one thing mining did, it was build solid muscle. Under the scrutiny of Vesuvian guards and their whips, Zackary went from a tough little kid, to a stout young man. Flat, hard chest. corded, muscular arms and rippling abs. He was muscular, but not grotesque. He had peaked in height, growing to a full six-foot-six proportions, fairly tall for a man. He could easily be placed in the gladiatorial festivals.But first thing was first, that mountain needed to be climbed, and though the other slaves had taken a liking to him, even some being tutored in basic math and spelling and grammar by him, weren't brave enough to face the Canyon. Zackary felt he owed it to them, as a slave himself to make their lives easier, perhaps even better. If he could climb that mountain in the valley, and attach it to the Canyon wall, he could relocate his brothers and sisters to a new mine, one cleaner and more fertile than this one.
  
  This time, he would accomplish his goal. Zackary climbed to the very summit of the mountain in the valley, and with four lengths of rope tied and bound together with planks of sturdy wood, four large stakes and a grouping of smaller stakes. It took Zackary two months to complete this task alone, Climbing up and down the valley walls and the mountain in between them, but when he was done--every slave miner and even the guards were in awe at what he had accomplished. For this, Zackary was hailed but in the end he denied the praise, simply satisfied he made life easier and conditions somewhat better for his fellows.
  
  Zackary was pulled from the mines by his master, having seen the vast riches his slave had yielded, but he had caught Zackary in theft. Before Zackary came back to the Adrastus homestead, he had been mining in the new mineral rich mine. He sent the larger portions home of course, but he had kept a few gems for himself to show his mother. By that time, the son that had beaten Zackary, had taken control of the household. Like his father, he was a greedy man. When he found even the smallest gems on Zackary, he took it as an insult to his and his father's "generosity" and found his reason to send Zackary to the gladiatorial games. A death sentence for most.
  
  For a class of gladiator, he was trained in the Dimachaerii (Greek "διμάχαιρος" "bearing two knives" ) A lightly armored type of gladiator that used two swords. Either the Sicca, the Spatha, or Gladius. The Sica, was a curved sword, with a blade about 16-18 inches long (40 – 45 cm). Sica were used only with the curve pointing down, which proves the tool part of it, and the fighting style was similar to the Kama. It will easily sever a limb with one slash-pull-cut technique. It was much feared by the legionaries during Zackary's revolt and brought some changes to their armor style design.
  
  The distinctive shape was designed to get around the sides of an opponent's shield, and stab or slash them in the back. Since the traex gladiator's usual opponent was the Scutum (large shield) carrying myrmillo gladiator, such a weapon as the Sica was necessary to make the duel more even and exciting. The sword could also be used, in experienced hands, to kill in one hit. With the curve pointed down the tip would often catch on the enemy's helmet. The gladiator could then lurch the sword upward into the jaw and through the face, killing the opponent instantaneously.
  
  Zackary Kane was at first was an unwelcome spectacle in the arena, but in a matter of months he escalated his success to legendary stardom by defeating Jesaer, another legendary combatant. Everyone expected Zackary to perish during the fight, his parents even watched in horror as his blood mixed with the sand of the arena. Jesaer was a hoplomacus. The Hoplomacus was the most heavy armored of the gladiators. His weapons and fighting techniques were very similar to the Samnite. The Hoplomacus carried a large rectangular shield called Scutum, and the famous sword called Gladius (from which the word Gladiator was derived). Also the Hoplomacus wore a visored, heavy metal helmet and his legs and arms were protected by metal or leather protections. Especially his right arm was protected by a Manica, an armor that goes up to the shoulder.
  The Hoplomacus was considered the bulldozer of the arena, but he was also limited in his speed cause of the weight of his heavy armor.
  
  However, when it came time to decide rather the man would live or die, Zackary Kane stunned a nation. When the King himself declared that the man be killed, Kane took a swing but rather than let it connect the man's throat or the back of his head, he let the weapon sail up and away, embedding in the beam that supported the king's private box's roof. He then demanded the king come down and kill the man himself, because was not a butcher, he was a warrior and warriors knew when to stay their blades. This drew his masters greatest ire, but the king saw in the gladiator, a strength he only saw in himself before then.
  
  "I'll have your head!" His master spat on him, face glowing a deep shade of red. "No! You're mine! But your mother and father...That is another matter." The lanista, Zackary's master implied. He then ordered the guards to hold Zackary as his mother and father were brought in before him, and forced to kneel. His parents were older, and their servitude to such a despot showed. Zackary looked upon his parents, and they looked back. His mother speaking up first saying "Don't doubt yourself now, look how far you've come. You didn't surpass expectations believing in yourself as worthless. You do what you feel is right." Then his father reconfirmed, "You're a better man than I ever was, and a stronger one too." Though there was fear in their eyes Zackary knew in his heart what had to be done, would be done with out them but partly because of them. And as Zackary watched on, his master, coldly killed his parents, slitting their throats tears began to form on the brims of his eyes.
  
  "Are you fucking happy now?!" His lanista screamed while Zackary just stood there in bondage. He wanted so badly to give in, to crumple like papyrus upon the dirt floor. He hadn't had the finer things in life--he didn't have anything but his parents and now...now they were crumple bodies upon his cell room's floor. As his master turned to step away, that's when the revolt started. The civil upheaval that would rock all of Vesuvi. He called out to his master, the words chilling him to the bone. "Better to die on your feet, than live on your knees, wouldn't you say? If you are wondering if my parent's death hurt me. It didn't. They are free of you. You and every corrupt official, are going to be brought to justice if I have to make the king listen."
  
  Zackary then quickly grabbed the guards weapons and dispatched them before being wounded himself by a very cowardly lanista as he fumbled to lock Zackary in, failing in this endeavor as Kane kicked the door open causing it to jar and break his former master's nose and making him fall backwards. Zackary was assaulted by more guards but dealt with them as well, with the same efficiency he dealt with any combatant in the arena. He went on to unlock every gladiators cell, including Jesaer who teamed up with him and in doing so, the gladiators soon overthrew the guards of the arena. Strangely enough, while the guards were injured, very few would die at the discretion of Zackary.
  
  It would take another year, but the civil turmoil and strife poured out into the streets with slaves revolting against masters. The common person kidnapping their slave owners and bringing him to Zackary. Zackary Kane rounded them up like cattle they had treated their "property" as, and marched them towards the Kings palace. He and nearly 12,000 slaves, men, women, and even children came upon the king's with their hostages. The king watched the spectacle unfold, more curious about Zackary Kane than actually mad at him. He met with this insurrectionist.
  
  Once confronted with the truth, messages hand written from years ago the king sought to kill the men himself. Yet, Zackary proved his character yet again. Instead, he made the king abolish slavery for good. Zackary Kane then talked the king into placing the gathered men in the mines and have their wealth divvied up-- half going to the coffers of the king, and half for reparations for those like himself, who had endured, pain and humiliation at the hands of their owners. When this was said and done, the king, seeking alliances with people that he could trust offered the title of general of the army, but Zackary declined. Stating that he did mot suit the role well enough. But Zackary said that he would be a confidant to the king if ever he had need of one. That's when it was declared, that Zackary Kane be appointed the new position of Imperial Praetorian, the king's personal guardian. Zackary in turn, created and enlisted twelve of the finest soldiers, and made them into knights themselves.
  
  A year after the Vesuvi Revolt, Zackary got married to another, former slave. Isolde. She was six years younger than Zackary, but was just as determined. They were kindred spirits locked in an embrace that lasted years. Eventually she would give him a son, Tristram after his father and Artemisia after her mother. He lived for them, his family. He lived for his second family too, his knights. He trained them hard, very hard. He was at times almost a slave driver himself with his expectations, but the results were exceptional. Though they were not a large force, they were the best trained; following mantras of neighboring combative styles until the dark days came and everything changed for the worst...

• ::Reason for Becoming a Redeemer: Zackary wants to make things right for the whole of the world and not just simply the whims of one. He ignores his own wants and needs, as he sees them inconsequential in the larger view of things. So thing like retribution greed, or envy or malice and malcontent are never apart of his agenda. Always striving for better days, so that his soul may finally be able to reach his wife's.
  
  
  
• ::The Changing:: Taking the blood of the very enemy in himself, was like swallowing liquid cyanide. Already on the verge of death, in agony from the wounds he'd some how cross deserts and climbed mountains with; became unable to sustain himself with life giving oxygen, this included every cell in his body not just his lungs. The wounds that cut him down in life became like hot brands and pokers,they formed mysterious designs of black across his body forcing screams of agony from between his parched cracked lips. The human that was, died that day amid a crowd of Redeemers.
  
  His eyes looking up in the large, circular dome covered room. The only light that could be seen by his glossy eyes was a single column of bluish white light cast at a slanted degree that robbed the darkness of its completion. His body watched his very soul step through the shaft of light as though it were a threshold into another world, as it murmured quietly while lying there "Conquestio de anima"--"Lament for a soul.". Zackary Kane died officially that night, a human not yet reborn as a Redeemer.
  
  He was given a chance to say good-bye to his former life, stepping through ash, fire and brimstone his flesh began to darken to an illustrious grey pigment, his hair became a stark white and his eyes a polished obsidian hue. Where he was, no one could say. Perhaps a place where those who sold their souls went for judgement, nevertheless it gave him opportunity to say good bye to his wife's body, and a chance at saying it to her soul.
  
  
  
  
  
  He entered a mausoleum of white marble; carefully carved stone into beautiful depictions of angels and floral designs. He pushed the sarcophagus open and with in, surely enough it was his wife in death.He lifted her head, his eyes looking upon her flawless pale features with love and tenderness and admiration. She was a strong woman in life, he thought sometimes she was even stronger than he was to have given life to their son. In the throes of feelings so desperate; my God how he worked so very hard to correct a dysfunctional city for a God that seemed to have no pity to spare him. He kisses her, brushes her long ginger colored hair back away from the closed bright green orbs that now lie hidden. He tells her, he loves her. He lies and says that he'll see her soon and lays her back down.
  
  Already he exhibits the symptoms of a hybrid Redeemer; lifting up the heavy solid marble slab lid with his bare hands. One covered in armor the other not. His metal carapace had been torn from his body. Shredded like loaves of bread and spilled across the battlefield, across time itself it seemed. He remained knelt to his wife's side though she was now covered, a feat that normally would have taken ten men to do, he did as easily as he breathed for his beloved ones. A light emerged from behind him, and when he turned to look he was blinded then awe struck. When he did, the heat from the flames that poured forth were hot enough to burn the solitary rolling tear that ran the length of his cheek, into his flesh like corrosive acid.
  
  A massive towering gate ruptured a landscape that reminded him of hell. Fissures filled with magma flowed beneath his feet, like an intricate network of veins, leading the way to the massive gate that now stood before him. Undaunted, he turned to look back at his wife but the tomb was no longer there. Instead, there was his armor and sword in pristine condition, polished yet the years of service could not hide the specks of blood embedded in the metal's surface. Donning the armor, its metal seared his flesh fusing itself to his very soul, a conviction so pure it purified his shaky resolve. This would be incredibly painful at first, forcing Zackary to kneel and scream out in agony as it metal bonded with soft flesh. The only thing not bonded was his helmet. But his eyes changed they were no longer human eyes, they flashed a ice cold blue.
  
  Sword in hand and mantle fluttering behind him, Zackary crossed a river of molten fire and rock and stepped up to the gate way. When it opened, it revealed the Demoni whose blood he had taken into his veins, sitting upon an iron throne. Rising to its feet upon seeing Zackary, it lifted its sword and with tremendous power, shook the world around them with a deathly blow...
  
  Meanwhile, on the outside, it would appear all had been lost for Zackary, it had begun to rain and storm violently outside. Thunderous claps and brilliant streaks of lightening plunged the skies into chaos. All hope had been almost given up when...there..in the dark, the broken body of a knight came back from the brink of extinction forever changed.
  
  
  
  
  
• ::Opinions:: "It is on this day, that our families, our nation--indeed our very king is threatened! I have trained you, knights, to be noble and just. To each be as fearless as your peers in the face of your enemies, to seek no quarter with evil for it shall spare you not the agony of shame. There is before us a shadow, a tidal wave of monsters! If we do not hold our ground here, then we do not deserve to have the breath of life in us. If we do, then we will hold the defense of this great city, and let all who look upon it in wonder know that we stood and fought so that the rest could have a chance. That we gave our lives in exchange for a brighter future that might shed light in this dark world. For all the darkness in this world, an not put out the flame of one lone candle." Zackary Kane
  
  
• ::Abomination Experiences::
  Having been a Redeemer for the past twelve years now, Zackary has firmly established himself as a veteran. Even before becoming a Redeemer, as a human he's challenged these inhuman monsters, and did battle with an abomination and Darkseed alike while he was still human but lacked the power to kill them. He did his best to stall them so that his king Vesuvius , a demi-god and one of Sapienta's children could escape. Zackary's fight was brave and valiant, but it was hopeless.
  
  As droves of Darkseed fell upon the city, Zackary's Legion fell to the voracious claws of the Darkseed as if guided by some unnatural and unseen force. Zackary himself was nigh mortally wounded by a unnamed and at the time, unknown entity. A humanoid creature with multiple deranged heads, snake like fangs that could rend armor as easily as it could flesh. When he awoke, the town was slaughtered, the demi-god slain and a battered and broken Zackary left bleeding and delirious. Since that time, he's seen many more twisted Darkseeds and a few sparing Abominations when initiates rejected the blood of the Demoni and became defiled in which he went from teacher to executioner without hesitation.