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Crassus Valiar

A hired blade straight from the Roman Empire. A sword master, he is heartless and possibly insane. He is better known as Crassus 'the Killer'.

0 · 787 views · located in Terra

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Tenaga

Description

Name: Crassus Antilus Valiar
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown

http://fc04.deviantart.com/fs24/f/2007/330/e/4/e4a419906b3c87a0.jpg

Here he is seen in full armor, however, he often travels in simple clothing, covered by a cloak. His eyes are often described as those of a hawk's and his sharp features only add to his predatory look.

Personality

Crassus is not a man who socializes. He feels no need to "connect"with others, nor is he a man who enjoys being around people. Crassus is solely focused on finding an equal in swordsmanship. Perhaps if he were sane, this pursuit may not be an all together immoral one. However he is indeed insane, and relishes in the act of killing with his blade. His insanity is hidden by his cleverness, however in the heat of battle it comes out, displaying its self through him as he laughs in pleasure during battle. He is tough to take down because of this, ignoring wounds when physically possible so that the fight, and thus the enjoyment of it, may continue.

He is by no means a kind, gentle or caring person. He is evil.

Equipment

His roman gladius, along with a roman pugio or dagger. He often wears his roman infantry armor. Though it is worn and torn in many places, he has done a more than capable job of caring and repairing it. He often covers all this with a long gray cloak.

History

Crassus served in the Roman army for all of his younger years. Always trying to prove himself, he trained relentlessly and had a natural talent with the blade. During the siege of Carthage, his prowess was finally realized. In one of the most bloody battles of Roman history, he proved to be a pivotal factor. Romans who saw him in the battle claimed he could kill five men in as many seconds, that he was an unstoppable force on the battle field. From then on he only rose in the eyes of Rome. He was given so many nicknames (the Whirlwind, the Legion, the Destroyer, ect.) that many now simply call him "Crassus the Killer".

He eventually grew tired of a military life, he ached for another great battle like Carthage but found the slaying countless "no-names" below him. He eventually sought an equal foe among his fellows, killing countless others that had been deemed masters by the Romans. This was not received well and he was banished from Rome. He now travels, taking on bounty hunting jobs in hopes of finding a match, or simply for the enjoyment of killing.

So begins...

Crassus Valiar's Story

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#, as written by Tenaga
Crassus Valiar finally came up to the outer doors of Gambits. He placed a hand on the door to open it and... sometihng struck him. His instincts were screaming, something was up. He pushed the door open, the wind blowing into the new opening and opening the door wide, slamming it against the inner wall of Gambits. Crassus now saw what his instincts told him was the source of the disturbance, a dark man standing a ways in front of him. The wind blew wildly into the bar, sending Crassus's cloak flourishing around him. He bore his teeth at the man's back, not even knowing if this was who he sought. Something simply felt wrong with him, as if he were twisted looking. Crassus boomed over the howling wind, "You, you're in my way." He voice sounded over the loud winds as he spoke to the mysterious man.

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Crassus Valiar narrowed his hawk-like eyes at the creature and then gave a snort of laughter. "I suppose you're Marcus? They told me that I would know you when I saw you, I guess they were right." With that he parted his gray cloak with his left hand, revealing the hilt of his roman gladius. His right moved with a terrific speed to grip the handle, a show of skill. He then removed the blade form it's sheath slowly, a ringing sound filling his ears like music as he did so. A wicked grin came to his face as he stared at the undead man, "I've heard tell of you Marcus, those stories are the only reason I accepted a job from the church. You may know me as well. If not however, I believe my sword play will speak for itself." He poised his sword upwards, pointing into the things face, his body balanced and ready for a fight.

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Crassus Valiar gave a bark of laughter at the thing's apparent readiness. It had been a while since he fought someone who wasn't simply trying to run away. Crassus lived for finding an equal at swordplay, he imagined that, even if this thing was not his equal, it should prove for a pleasurable fight. Crassus made the first move, darting forward, his feet moving in odd steps to maintain his balance and with the fluency of a master. He first feinted his sword to the left shoulder of the creature, a fake shot that was inteded to prompt the opponent to raise their shield. Then, fast as lighting, he pulled his sword downward and thrust the tip of diagonally, attempting to stab beneath the pocket created by the shield moving upwards.

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Crassus Valiar slid backwards with the abrupt bashing. Many would tumble backwards, or be thrown askew, however Crassus's masterly footwork had seen to keeping his body in balance. As such, he took the hit evenly, with a minimal amount of force being applied to one place in particular. His eyes grew a shade wider in excitement, his grin only growing larger. His body was staring to scream at him, his arm wanted to thrust the sword out again, feel the resistance as blade met flesh. The urges where like that of a junkie, aching for a fix. Crassus couldn't help but let out a roll of laughter before he pressed the advance against. This time he faked to the opposite side of the opponent, his sword side. And then he lifted his leg and kicked with a great amount of force upon the shield. A bash for a bash he though.

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Crassus Valiar stayed silent in return. His sword play would speak more than any words could. Although Crassus's insane qualities did come to the fore when he fought an intense battle, his movements were far from erratic or unprepaired. The opposite in fact, he fought using all the skills he had ever learned, his precision and speed that of what is spoke of in legends. The slash came rushing down at Crassusas he lifted his sword to intercept it. He held the blade at an angle pointing towards the ground. This sent the slash moving in a direction opposite of Crassus and downwards. He then followed through with he momentum of his blade, bringing it around his shoulders, gathering speed and power, and then sending an opposing slash as the creature, heading directly for it's neck.

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Crassus Valiar opens the door to Gambits Bar. Crassus is a tall man built with the sinewy muscles of a swordsman. His frame crowds the door way for a second, the grey cloak he wears fussing as the wind passes in from outside. Crassus takes two solid steps forward, the door closing behind him. His brown eyes resemble a hawks as they dart around the room. His brown hair was short, cut for the military though he no longer belonged to one. His face showed no sign of mirth, he was not happy to be here. In fact, he hated coming here. Too many x-factors to consider. However, this place happened to be one of the number one locations that his targets always seemed to run too. Perhaps it was because they felt safe around so many people, or more liekly because of the kind of people this place drew to it. Crassus smirked at this, the show of teeth looking wolfish. He supposed that, for one reason or another, he was one of those people too. Crassus strode towards the bar.

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Crassus Valiar reached the bar and pulled out a stool to sit upon. As he did he glanced to his left and right, making note of the characters around him. The barkeep stepped towards him, hoping to get an order. However Crassus gave him a glare that could kill and the young barkeep went scampering off. The last thing Crassus wanted was to be bothered. He was simply not having a good day, and by his standards, that bode very ill for any who would try and rouse him. Crassus took out a packet of papers and began flipping through them. They were a list of bounty heads. He was hoping to make the day a better one by perhaps killing one or two people.

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Crassus Valiar gave a sideways glance towards the woman who just wrestled her way into her seat. He let out a snort of amusement as she threated to cut the throats of everyone here. The barkeep soon shuffled by, responding to her request for a drink. Crassus looked up towards the man, daring him to look back, but the young man never dared. He walked with purpose past Crassus, his eyes staring forceably ahead. Crassus grimaced, annoyed at the mans lack of a spine, and spit onto the ground. He turned in his seat to get a better look of the fight happening behind him. However, no matter how many times he looked, neither of them had a bounty on their head. He nearly threw the book to the ground, but instead he simply resorted to placing it on the counter and growling at the barkeep, "You'll fetch me wine. Now."

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Crassus Valiar turned his hawk-like eyes upon the woman. For some seconds he said nothing, he simply stared at her. He was determining what she was. A fool; a drunk; a bitch; or did she really intend to threaten him? He wasn't sure that she would be able to back up her claims, however he knew not to underestimate women. It was one of their greatest weapons, their seeming powerlessness. He had met enough women who fought for their lives to realize the truth. He had also ended enough of their lives not to feel directly threatened by this woman. Perhaps a test was required, to see if she was for real, or simply stupid. He never replied to the woman, he simply parted his grey cloak with one hand to reveal the hilt of the roman gladius beneath it. A bit of his armor also shown from beneath the cloak, though it was terribly worn. Crassus lifted his eyes to hers and smiled wolfishly. -c-

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 That smile alone had sent many packing, but he couldn't help himself, he liked a woman with guts. "I suggest you stay your tongue before I take it from you." His voice was calm, though it was threaded with an odd sense of enjoyment. As if he was hoping she would test him. -f-

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Crassus Valiar looked to the bar keep and shook his head slowly. "That was a bad decision. You and I will talk later. But first," he turned his gaze back upon the woman, "you." The next few seconds were a blur of motion. Crassus released his blade from it's sheath and simultaneously leapt to his feet, the stool clattering to the ground. He darted to the left, angling himself so that the patrons between him and the woman were no longer in the way of his blade. Then, with a masterful precision, his blade darted towards the woman in a lunge aimed for her mouth. It seemed that Crassus was in fact trying to remove her tongue.

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Crassus Valiar did something more incredible than cutting through the mug. As the knife came to bear at his throat, Crassus did what was perhaps one of the hardes tthings to do with a sword. He swung it in the opposite direction mid blow. The maneuver took an odd twisting of his body, working to make it like a spring. Then, he turned his wrist upwards and put to work the muscles in hs body, effectivly loosing the spring. THe sword doubles backwards and came rushing towards Mala-Gor. The twisting of his body moved Crassus away from the blade at his neck as well.

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Crassus Valiar looked between Andraste and Yuber, a scowl on his face. The woman peaked his interest, he was always up for a fight especially in the foul mood he was in. However, he was not in the mood to put up with Yuber and the woman at the same time. Things had advanced to produce a gigantic headache. This was not ideal in any situation. Crassus felt the sudden urge to leave the bar and kill something. He looked over to Yuber and yelled, "I'll not be speaking with you today Yuber. Unless you wish for an arm to be lopped off. Bad day. You'd make it worse." Then he turned to Andraste and lifted his sword menacingly, "I owe you more than that. We'll meet again girl and finish this." His body surged with the sudden impulse to attack her. This happened whenever a good fight was to be had, and it was a sort of ecstasy to him. He smirked and said, "I wont pretend that I'm not looking forward to it. In fact I can't wait." With that he strode out of the bar.

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Crassus Valiar rode through town on his black horse, which proved all together easier than he had imagined. Crassus had thought that the road would be crowded and hard to move through, even though it was night in the city. As he marched the black horse through, however, people would glance at him idly then gasp and move out of the way. It was then that Crassus remembered that he had yet to bathe since killing his last bounty, and the blood from this mornings kill was all over his gray cloak. He scoffed at the cowardice of the commoners and continued up the road to Gambit's Bar. Reaching the door, he hopped off the horse and gave it a sharp slap on it's flank that sent it running. It wasn't his horse originally anyways, and he had little patience to actually care for one. Crassus opened the doors to the bar and stood at the entrance for a moment, gauging the patrons. No faces struck him immediately as wanted criminals, so he walked over to the bar. Bounty hunting had become too slow recently...

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Crassus Valiar sitting at one of the bar stool Crassus yelled to the bar keep, "Wine, and water." He thought idly of how he himself was a wanted criminal. It wasn't often he saw a bounty hunter come after his head though. A sad thought, he was anxious for some action. Just thinking of the idea sent his right hand's fingers into jittering spasms. His body urged him to grip the handle of his roman blade and plunge it into someone, anyone! Without any sign of effort upon his face Crassus quelled the urges. Afterall, this was something he was very used to. He did growl at the barkeep though, "You'd be smart to hurry with that order."

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 The bar keep rushed to fill his order, and when he placed the drinks in front of Crassus he stood there expectantly, waiting for a tip. Crassus slowly looked up into his eyes and whispered, "You'd best not expect anything from me, I only give two things to people who've annoyed me, a swift death or a slow one. Care to roll the dice?" The barkeep scurried away, leaving Crassus with the drinks.

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Crassus Valiar walks briskly up to the bar entrance. It wasn't the cold of the night that sped him along, or the metal of his armor that chilled his skin as they touched. No, Crassus hurried to the bar because he had been following a bounty head that he believed to have ran here. Always one for subtly, he threw the bar doors opens, the heavy wood slamming against the walls, and glared round the bar. Unable to spot his target, he scoffed angrily at his timing. Was he to late, or to early? Nothing to do now but wait. He walked over to the bar, pulling out a stool and sitting on it abruptly. "Give me some wine, and water."

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Crassus Valiar gets the faint feeling that his being thought of, he looks around the abr once more for his mark, but they still are not there. Spitting out a curse, his fingers go to the hilt of his blade instinctively. They grip the handle tighter and tighter, feeling the nicks and grooves upon the handle that are imprinted in his memory. The motions are much like an addict on withrdawl, it is as if his body is begging him to draw his blade. Quelling the motion, for now, he glares at the bar keep to hurry with his order.

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Crassus Valiar looked to his right, at Andraste, and closed his eyes giving out a short puff of air, expelling the suddenly increased urge in his body to tear her to pieces. When he looked back up at her, his eyes burned slightly with the insanity he kept quelled inside him at the moment. "I'd say the pleasure is mine but... well it isn't." The barkeep finally came with his drinks and placed them before him. Looking for a tip, the barkeep lingered, holding out a hand. Crassus glared up at him for no more than a moment before the poor man went scurrying away. Crassus poured water into his wine and began to stir it slowly. "They don't make the Roman drink I desire here... so I am forced to create a makeshift version myself..." He didn't know why he shared this, being social wasn't something he typically cared for.

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Crassus Valiar rolled his eyes saying, "This is why they don't serve my drink here. The Roman version is much more than that..." Crassus took the cup, now sufficiently stirred, to his lips and let a good portion slide through his lips. "Besides, it dulls ones senses in a fight if you become drunk." Crassus deftly pulled his Roman dagger from it's sheath and pressed it threateningly against her side. "Perhaps you'd like to test that theory after a few more glasses?" He stared down at the knife pressing against her and said, "This reminds me of a similar situation we were just in..." Was this perhaps Crassus' insane way of inviting Andraste to share a few more drinks with him? Or was he threatening to kill her. Likely the latter, but possibly both.