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Even Gods Bleed: Divine Wrath

Character Directory

a part of “Even Gods Bleed: Divine Wrath”, a fictional universe by Crooked Thoughts.

In Cam Lire hope is whispered in children ears to aid sleep. The reign of the God King is spreading like disease. And though it need curing rebellion is but a dream. However some would see it reality. But is this really a plague or blessing?

Characters Settings Story
This conversation is an Out Of Character (OOC) part of the roleplay, “Even Gods Bleed: Divine Wrath”.
Discussions pertaining to roleplay on RPG.

[OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Crooked Thoughts on Sun Aug 21, 2011 9:05 pm

Image

In Cam Lire, hope is something whispered in the ears of children to aid in sleep. The reign of the God King is spreading like a disease. And though it needs curing, rebellion is but a sweet dream. However, there are those who would see it reality. But, is this really a plague or a blessing in disguise?




CONTENTS LINKS

  1. God King: Azrael
  2. Zon Mezbuthfoker
  3. Klause von Stein
  4. Seric Uradel
  5. Abaddon
  6. Kristoff Deamhar
  7. Joshua Foulke
  8. Galizur Oberon Mikel
  9. Iphigenia Wynter
  10. Mireille The Idealist
  11. Tristan Zilocke
  12. Tanith Kelvaskur
  13. Nargash Soulripper
  14. Anthea
  15. Fiona Draconis
  16. Terryn Wynter
  17. Octavin
  18. William Campborn
  19. Caspian Sterling
  1. RP Tab
  2. IC Page
  3. OOC Page
  4. Announcement Page
  5. Player Directory
  6. Character Directory
  7. Races Page
  8. Classes & Specialization Page
  9. Magic System Page
  10. Location Page
  11. Information Page






















Character Directory

This thread is for the RP, Even Gods Bleed. The purpose of this thread is to display any and all active characters in this RP. If you any questions or notice any errors, PM me. There are links below to help navigate to the other pages of the RP as well as a contents listing. And if you are not part of this RP and would like to be, either PM me or use the below links to go to the RP and join. However this final rule goes for everyone: DO NOT POST HERE!
Last edited by Crooked Thoughts on Sun Sep 04, 2011 11:23 pm, edited 3 times in total.

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Crooked Thoughts
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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Crooked Thoughts on Mon Aug 22, 2011 4:49 pm

A1
AZRAEL WYNTER : THE GOD KING
Image
"No weapon formed against me shall prosper!"


PHYSICALITY

Physical Description


Appearance
Hair: Long Black W/Gray Streaks
Facial Hair: Black Beard and Mustache W/Gray Streaks
Eyes: Gray; Glows Blue When Angry, A Symbol of Him Nearing Ascendancy.
Build: Average, Healthy, Looks Physically Good For Someone Of His Age.
Skin Tone: Slight Tan
Height: 5'8 ft
Weight: 170 lbs
Voice: Deep, Wise, Self-Assured
Handed: Right
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: None
Unique Body Features: None

Name
Azrael Wynter

Nickname
Your Holy Majesty
Thee Lord
My God King

Title
God King Azrael

Race
Human

Visual Age
40

Factual Age
70

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Mage Rank
Oracle

Class
Mage

Specialization
Warlock


MENTALITY

Personality


Quirks
Believes he is truly the god of a new world. He isn't delusional, but firmly believes the has become a god. Therefore, everything he does is because of that thought.

Moral Alignment
Lawful Evil

Virtue/Creed


Motivation


Fears
His worst fear is a very possible outcome and that would be to lose everything he worked so hard for and be remembered as tyrant.

Goal
Ruling forever and to be remembered as a merciful god and benign king.

Likes
  • Power: Azrael loves power in terms of his abilities. Since he was just a boy, he had dreams of being a powerful mage. There is nothing greater than learning more about the art of spell casting. Even if this means spending hours in tomes and grimoires.

  • Control: Azrael MUST have control. If he is in a group, he must be the leader. If he is in a contest, he must be winning. So it only makes sense that he run an entire kingdom.

  • Respect: Respect is everything to someone who never had it. Growing up, respect was something what he always craved, so he promised himself that he will stop at nothing until everyone respects him.

Dislikes
  • Disrespectful People: Azrael hates disrespectful people, he feels that no matter who or what a person is, they have earned some level of respect; even children. Because of this, Azrael always treats anyone and everyone with a basic level of respect.

  • Being Weak Minded: There is no excuse for this to Azrael. He hates complainers, those that say they can't, and the like.

  • Not Being In Control: Being God King, there is one thing that irritates him to no end: not having control! A dual side effect of this is that he hates restrictions and people telling him he CAN'T have or do something. He isn't a brat, but by all means if he wants something, he WILL have it. He is a GOD after all.

Strengths
  • His Magical Prowess: Thanks to the Archmage's grimoire and Abaddon's gift, Azrael is quite possibly the strongest warlock on earth. There are many stories about his might and magical abilities, whether they are true or not, nobodies knows.

  • The Warforged Army: Being a powerful God King is nothing without an army to back you up. Fortunately for Azrael he has an immortal, never-ending, loyal army of elite soldiers who want nothing more than to do his bidding.

  • Abaddon's Allegiance: This is probably his biggest strength, the allegiance of a powerful demon king.

Weaknesses
  • The Blood Pact: Due to many specifics of his blood pact between the eldritch and himself, there are many restrictions in place on his powers and abilities.

  • Mortal: Despite all his power and immorality, at the end of the day he can still die by anyone who can get the best of him.

  • The Bond: As a result of the Blood Pact, Azrael and Abaddon share souls. This means if one dies, the other dies. So this forces Azrael to look out for the demon and vice versa.




ARMAMENT

Enchanted Garments: Being a mage, Azrael favors enchanted items highly above all else. He is currently wearing a tailored outfit of drake skin, enchanted with a few standard spells: self-repair, weather repel, expanding waistline, etc. All the enhancements do nothing to bolster defense, but comfortability instead. Azrael relies on his own abilities to defend him, not a suit of armor.

Head


Neck


Chest


Back


Arm/Shoulder


Right Hand


Left Hand


Right Accessory


Left Accessory


Waist


Legs


Feet



COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
[Poor] Hand-to-Hand Combat: His hand-to-hand skills are just as bad as his other formal combat skills. But, he may be able to win a fight if adding an extra umph behind his punches with magic.

[Below Average] Melee Combat: Before becoming God King, Azrael had no formal training in armed combat. However with so much free time on his hands, he has had some master combatants teach him a thing two, but it has proven useless so far. Because just as soon as things get rough, he sends foes flying with a blast from his palm.

[Very Poor] Armed Combat: When it comes to combat, this is Azrael's greatest weakness, he is actually quite ashamed of it, even if he is mage. When it comes to bows, he can't even fire an arrow properly, let alone pull the string back. And guns? Well lets just say he is more likely to hit the target next to his. Azrael can't even be trusted to fire a cannon.

[Perfect] Magic Combat: Being a warlock, this means of all combat fields his time training went into his magical studies. Even after becoming God King, if not more, Azrael spent most of his time practicing, training, and honing his skills as a mage.

[Perfect]Mounted Combat:

Racial Abilities
[Good] Strive:

Natural Talent
[Excellent] Brilliant Mind: The God King is no idiot. By today's standards he would be considered a genius.

[Excellent] Arcane Knowledge: Since magic is not only his choice of weapon, it is also his favorite past time. It only makes sense that he be more than knowledgeable on the subject.

[Perfect] Summoning: Like any warlock, Azrael is proficient in summoning. Even before he was partner, he was adept at summoning a few lesser Pit Fiends.

Class Skills
[Excellent] Intimidating Aura: Azrael is a formidable warlock, the God King of a vast empire, and partners with what looks like the devil himself. Who wouldn't be scared of him? Not many can even stand in the sight of such a god, literally, many fall to their knees without being commanded. It is a feat all on its to look him in the eyes.

[Good] Invocations: Warlocks do not cast spells, instead they use invocations. And as expected, Azrael is skilled at this. However before summoning Abaddon, this was an area he was severely lacking in.

[Above Average Devil's Sight: Allows him to see things that are unseen, whether it natural or magical.

Spells/Powers
[Grand] Call Guardian: Azrael has been skilled at this long before becoming God King. Though he rarely uses the ability, useless summoning pit fiends or a warforged. Because who can be a better guardian than the Demon King himself?

[Great] Eldritch Blast: This is an ability all warlocks posses, however each one varies from user to user. Besides being powerful, Azraels takes the shape of a cone, starting out small, then spreading as it travels. The blast is at its strongest when up close, but he can focus it into a beam, by sacrificing range.

[Great] Ethereal Wings: This is a technique Azrael learned from the collector's grimorie. Through manipulation of magic, one can sprout wings and gain the ability of flight. In other advanced forms, one grows other appendages, they are usually based on one's inner alignment. Once completely mastered the appendages are no longer raw energy but actual flesh. However at Azrael's level it is still energy and he choses to only sprout wings.

[Lesser] Arcane Might: By manipulating pure and raw magic, Azrael can perform greats feats of magical brawn. He can change the environment around, through terraforming and other methods.

[Least] True Repel: This invocations creates a repulsion field around Azrael, that repels anything and everything. However this is an extremely hard thing to do, and takes many years to master and perfect. At Azrael's level, the field last for 5 seconds and requires a 5 minute rest.


EQUIPMENT

Items
None

Memorabilia
None

Accessories
Kings Jewelry: Azrael wears an assortment of royal jewels, mostly rings. They are all gifts, some offered to him as payments, or thank-you's, or simply just-cause.

Weapon
Weapon Name: The Collector's Grimoire
Weapon Type: Spell Book
Material: Arcane Materials
Length: 1ft x 1ft
Weight: Weightless
Weapon Description/Info: This is the ancient grimoire of a legendary archmage known as the collector. The mage was known for killing and collecting other mage's grimoire and ancient tomes and compiling it all into this one book. No one knows how he died, some say he didn't, that he found what he was looking for and stop collecting. Thus he decided to leave this book behind fro others. Azrael spent most of his life looking for it and now that he has it, he has been using it to accomplish and gain anything he desires.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
None

Faction
The Holy Kingdom of Azrael

Marital Status
Married

Relatives
Many, none noteworthy as of now.

Residence
The God King's Castle

Social Rank
God King

Occupation
Ruler

Blood Pact
The Blood Pact Contract
His Radiant Honor, the King of Fiends and Conqueror of Empires, Abaddon The Destoyer, henceforth referred to as Abaddon, and Azrael Lazarus Wynter, of the country Cam Lire of Earth, henceforth referred to as Azrael, set forth their Eldritch Contract as follows:

  • Clause the First:
    Abaddon shall lend the full force of the powers of his person to the objectives defined and stated by Azrael and detailed in this Contract, as follows:

      Imprimis, the claim of the Royal Throne of Cam Lire.

      Secundus, a loyal army for strengthening of the Cam Liren position on the worldwide stage.

      Tertius, to bestow power and understanding of the arcane equal to that of a Oracle.

      Quartus, a long life to enjoy all that he will become to be and own.

  • Clause the Second:
    In return, Abaddon is granted physicality and freedom in the realm of the contractor.

  • Clause the Third:
    When the agreed-upon term of the primary Contract expires or in the case of death, the soul of Abaddon and those acquired, Thenceforth and without reservation, ceteris paribus, be returned to the prison of which he was summoned from in perpetuity.

  • Clause the Fourth:
    The secondary Contract, stated thus: by signing this contract, the souls of Abaddon and Azrael shall be shared. If either share perish, their fate is to be shared.

  • Clause the Fifth:
    Moreover, Abaddon shall not actively work against the Wynter bloodline to bring about their end, and shall send such servants as he deems necessary to ensure the safety of the Wynter bloodline.

  • Clause the Sixth:
    In return for the above Clause, Azrael and the general Faux bloodline shall provide Abaddon with their royal souls for him to do with as he wishes upon their deaths, again until such time as the Wynter bloodline, as defined in the Contract, passes from the world of Earth.

Abaddon Azrael Lazarus Wynter


Bio/History
Will be fleshed out throughout character sheet and roleplay.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Hydrall on Mon Aug 22, 2011 8:20 pm

ZON MEZBUTHFOKER : CLAN CHIEF OF RODERLOGEM

Image
"There are dark things in the caves, but they've seemed
lighter than the Above as late."



PHYSICALITY


Description
A dwarf of surprising height for his species, to the point where he could pass off as a short human if it were not for his build.

Appearance
Hair: His (white) hair is long, reaching down his back- He regards it highly.
Facial Hair: He has one hell of a twinbeard. Also white.
Eyes: Brown
Build: Muscular and tall- for a dwarf.
Skin Tone: Tanned
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 200lb
Voice: Deep, mellow, accented.
Handed: Right
Body Markings:
Scar Tissue: Due to him being a dwarf, it's difficult to tell
where the scars begin and the skin ends. But he's covered with the
cuts and tears of a century of leadership.
Unique Body Features:

Name
Zon Mezbuthfoker

Nickname
None. How do you shorten 'Zon'?

Title
Chief Oakencross of the Roderlogem, the Bastard Chief.

Race
Shield Dwarf

Visual Age
Oldish?

Factual Age
134

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual (Although with Dwarves, can you really tell?)

Mage Ranking
None

Class
Warrior

Specialization
Monk (Physical)


MENTALITY


Personality

There are many who claim that all dwarves are the same, or that they're all identical in actions. While this is not the case, they have a point- Dwarves do share more in common with each other than most species, to the point where outsiders may be unable to tell them apart. This is mostly cultural, rather than inherent.

Zon is atypical for a Shield Dwarf, at least as the stereotypes have it. Owing to his training with the Gasir Nom priesthood, he has acquired a more wide-viewing outlook. He rarely acts impulsively or rashly, taking time to consider his options before acting, although he is also fairly disorganized and often loses important documents. He rarely goes back and changes an opinion, though.

He is still very much a Dwarf- He loves his alcohol and strange mushroom dishes, while he possesses a brash sense of friendliness that can tire out someone not used to him. He also greatly enjoys fighting, armed or not.

Quirks
He treats his highly dangerous and murderous wyvern Iorm like a puppy. He also has a tendency to pick things up and roll them in his hand when he's waiting or bored.

Moral Alignment
Lawful Neutral

Virtue/Creed
"Foremost, my people. They are to be protected and cherished, as kin
would be. All clans, all dwarves.
Leastmost, myself. It is the Chief who is expendable, not his Clan."

Motivation
He cares little for the other races, but attempting to harm his people
will draw his fury.

Fears
He is terrified of his people being further oppressed or wiped out- The journey to Wralandir almost did that already. He also fears the Warforged greatly, which contributes to his unwillingness to act against the king.

Goal
The freedom and independence of the Dwarves.

Likes
Rocks.
The underground.
Mechanical contraptions and inventions. He's fascinated by them.
The landscape of Wralandir, especially the highlands.
Cheese.
Alcohol, especially honey mead. No other kind, you claim? Obviously you've never eaten Dwarf.
Wyverns.

Dislikes
Orcs.
Warforged.
Elves.
Most other species, for that matter.
Bugs, especially bugs in his beard.

Strengths
His raw strength and stamina, as well as his political clout and resources. Also, a frakkin' huge crossbow.

Weaknesses
He's stubborn and immobile as rock. While he doesn't wear the overly heavy armor typical of his kind, he carries weapons large enough to slow him down considerably- A fast opponent could easily defeat him.


ARMAMENT


Head
He wears only the circlet of his rank.

Neck
No neckguard, save for a general lack of one as a dwarf.

Chest
A leather plate sewn into a robe.

Back
Unarmored but for a toughened robe.

Arm/Shoulder
A small metal shoulder guard, followed by leather sleeves.

Right Hand
A thick steel gauntlet covers his hand. He usually carries a hammer or
crossbow.

Left Hand
A thick steel gauntlet covers his hand. He fights without a shield.

Right Accessory


Left Accessory


Waist
He wears a belt adorned with a grinning demon.

Legs
He wears a robe bottom around his waist, and under that some tough
leather trousers.

Feet
He wears a pair of tight fitted sandals.


COMBAT PROWESS

Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] -
[Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]



Combativeness

[Above average] Hand-to-Hand Combat: Though a martial monk by training, Zon never quite enjoyed their bare-fisted combat. However, he learned a thing or two about it.

[Above Average] Melee Combat: Zon's true haven is in the middle of a melee, and he excells in it despite his choice of weapon.

[Good] Armed Combat: The Chief is skilled in a variety of weapons, as any good Shield Dwarf ought to be. Though he favors the hammer and crossbow he can wield many others.

[Excellent] Marksdwarfship: Having come from a Clan skilled in their use, it's understandable that he picked up a thing or two.

[Above Average] Tactical Sense: He's no Creed, but he'll do. He understands how to get his people into a battle frenzy, but also when that battle frenzy will do the most good.

[Below Average] Speed: "My legs are too damn short!"

Racial Abilities

[Excellent] Cavernvision: Dwarves see extremely well in pitch blackness. However, at times like twilight (or even exceptionally bright nights) their vision can cause problems and headaches.

[great] Great Stamina: Dwarves have been noted to go without sleep, food or drink for days when working, although they usually notice before expiring. It's debatable whether this is honorable commitment to duty and courageous stamina or simply bull-headed stubborness.

Natural Talent
[above average] Mechanics: Clan Roderlogem is, at heart, a clan of mechanics and tinkerers. Though it has been many years since Zon worked at a workshop he still retains that knowledge of machines and moving parts.

Class Skills

[good] Iron Skin: Honed by his training in the Gasir Nom, Zon has learned to ignore a great deal of pain. However, years of leadership have dulled that skill a tad.

Spells/Powers
Nope.


EQUIPMENT


Items


Memorabilia

His crossbow, Degusil, is technically this- He could get a far more powerful Dwarven Arbalest if he wished, but keeps his own bow for sentimental reasons.

Accessories


Weapon
Weapon Name: Komanakur
Weapon Type: Hammer
Material: 'Living' stone, reinforced with metal.
Length: About as tall as Zon.
Weight: Excessively so.
Weapon Description/Info: A ceremonial weapon passed down from Clan to Clan, usually violently. It is not the same hammer it was in ancient times- A handle must be replace, or the head shatters, but the spirit of it lives on. Of course, hitting someone with a rock on a handle is usually a sure way to drop them, even without all sorts of voodoo.

Weapon Name: Degusil
Weapon Type: Crossbow
Material: Oak and iron.
Ammo: Bolts of solid steel.
Length: Three feet long
(Spring) Weight: Around two hundred fifty pounds of force. It's a big bow.
Weapon Description/Info: Degusil is the name of Zon's own crossbow, built by his own hands. It's not the greatest weapon ever made, but he's kept it in good condition and it hits like a handgun. It is also excessively noisy from various gears and springs, unlike the silent assassin's bowgun that's so popular. Notable, though, is the fact that Zon uses it as a melee weapon almost as much as a bow.


BACKGROUND


Group Affiliation
The Dwarves, specifically Clan Roderlogem.

Faction
Neutral, nominally God-King.

Marital Status
A widower, his wife died a decade before and he has yet to remarry.

Relatives
Many uncles, brothers, aunts and sisters, as well as technically his
entire Clan. He has two sons.

Origin
The Wralandir Highlands.

Social Rank
Clan Chief

Occupation
Clan Chiefing. Prior to that, he was a monk of the Gasir Nom, and before then a Mechanist.

Bio/History
Zon was born a bastard son of the Roderlogem Chief, and lived his early life as a member of the artisan noble class. Treated as an eyesore and an annoyance, he had to work hard to gain any measure of acceptance- Which he did, slowly but surely working his way into peoples' confidences; Not as a prince, but as a hard worker with a clever mind. But every time he tried to gain some lasting success it was taken away, eventually driving the dwarf to leave the Clan and travel to a monastary- The Retreat of Gasir Nom, a serene mountaintop temple. There, Zon found peace and acceptance for the first time, and learned the ways of the monks. They mellowed out the angry, competetive bastard prince that had come there, and in his place made a dwarf dedicated to the protection of places like Gasir Nom.

It was not to last, for it eventually reached the monastery that the Roderlogem clan had fallen into disarray after a dispute broke into a conflict. Their leaders dead or fleeing, the clan was broken and weakened. Zon returned from the mountains to rebuild his clan, and he built it higher than it had been before. Now the Roderlogem are a controlling force in the highlands of Wralandir, with him at their head.


IORM THE RIDING WYVERN

Image
"[unintelligable]?"


Appearance
A two-legged reptile about the size of a horse, with a pair of batlike wings for arms and a long rat tail. The creature's scales are a dark green-blue while its wings' undersides are black.
Hair: It has some light grey feathers on its head.
Eyes: Yellow
Build: Birdlike- Tough, wiry, and light.
Height: About eight feet.
Weight: 200-300 pounds?
Body Markings: It has the brand of Clan Roderlogem on its neck.

Name
Iorm

Nickname
Gutter by everyone but Zon.

Race
Although difficult for a human to ride, dwarves find Wyverns easier to mount and control than horses. Wyverns also share the same caves as Dwarves, and they respond well to the typical dwarven method of domestication (which involves yelling and raw beef). However, like all dragons Wyverns never really stop growing, and so eventually become too large to even fly- A Wyvern at this stage is called a Wyrm and is usually given to the leader of a Riding Lizard unit. Though born with stinger tails, these are removed at birth by their handlers.

Age
15

Gender
Female

Abilities
She can fly, although she has some issues doing so with Zon on board. Her main use is her running speed, which can match or exceed that of a horse, and the fact that she is essentially the unholy offspring of a velociraptor, a dragon and a blender.

Skills
Fleet Of Foot:


Equipment
Nothing but her teeth and claws.

Bio/History
Iorm is a Wyvern Zon acquired after his wife's death. He named her after the daughter they never had, and cares for her greatly. However, the Wyvern's a mean one, kicking at anyone who approaches her but Zon and bullying the other stabled animals. Zon seems to be the only one unaware of this, and he does most of the caring for of the animal himself- Something that suits everyone else in the immediate vicinity fine.
"In Latin America, they say that the spirit world is a dark place, empty but for all of the human nightmares and regrets they left behind; the journey through it is long and hard. Every time you write, or draw, or create something new, you light a beacon fire in the spirit world to guide and protect the dead on their journey to the afterlife. Think about that the next time you write, and know that no matter how little it is, you have helped them on their way."

Audino - Surprisingly Amazing!

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Hydrall
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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Saxious on Mon Aug 22, 2011 8:22 pm

Klause ‘Ichor’ von Stein : The Necromancer
Image
"Combine science and magic, then you’ll have a whole new field of knowledge to explore."


PHYSICALITY

Description
When seen from a distance, Klause appears to be a scholar, or librarian, who has spend far too much time in the deep underground vaults, his skin is frighteningly pale, his long white hair is combed neatly backward, or sometimes tied into a pony tail.
No matter what Klause wears, he consistently appears to be drowning in his clothing. His slim and emaciated limps are always too thin to wear anything that he dresses, making him almost a living non-speaking comedian whenever there’s wind.

When confronting Klause up close, his eyes sends out a single message to whoever looks into them, ‘I’ve got all the time in the world.’ Klause’s patience is unconceivable; if he had to wait three hours before he would be able to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to a simple question, he’d do it.

It is clear that Klause does his utter best to keep a good posture, though with time old habits takes over and he is found either bend over or slouching down. Either way, he’s always in a position where he could quickly fall asleep. There dark ‘bags’ beneath his eyes indicating many sleepless nights.


Appearance
Hair: Long and white. Either combed back or in a ponytail.
Facial Hair: Rarely any.
Eyes: Brown
Build: Skin and bones.
Skin Tone: Pale.
Height: 174 cm (5 feet 7 inches)
Weight: 67 kg (147.7 pounds)
Voice: Calm, steady and tedious.
Handed: Right
Body Markings: No.
Scar Tissue: He has a dozen (very) small scars on his hands, and three big scars on his back.
Unique Body Features: His little-finger nail on his left hand is black.

Name
Klause von Stein

Nickname
Ichor

Title
‘Doctor’

Race
Human

Visual Age
late 40s, possibly early 50s

Factual Age
39 years old.

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual, however rarely feels affection.

Mage Ranking
Adept

Class
Wizard

Specialization
Necromancer


MENTALITY

Personality


Quirks
1. Speaking tediously and using big words when in the company of peasants and other lesser educated beings.
2. Debating whether there is such things as ‘evil’ and ‘good’.
3. He refuses to agree with anything till he’s presented with a ‘holistic view’.

Moral Alignment
Lawful Evil

Virtue/Creed
“Lesser evil must be done for the greater good of the masses.”

“There’s no need to degrade a person by his deed till you know the motivation and the story for why he did so.”

Motivation
Fighting humanity’s curse of mortality and disease.

Fears
Death
And what follows.

Goal
To find a way in which to extend his own life to continue his research.

Likes
-Experimenting with science, medical alchemy & herbs and necromantic magic.
-Reading through thick tomes, books and scrolls.
-Writing and reading progressive reports.

Dislikes
-Failed experiments.
-Falling asleep while reading.
-Useless minions.
-Writing down his failed experiments.

Strengths
-His knowledge within the field of medicine and necromancy.
-His ability to quickly gain the trust of locals (using his medical knowledge to manipulate the lesser people).
-Intelligent.

Weaknesses
-His physical inability to defend himself.
-His tedious voice often bores people.
-His dependency of local hospitality.


ARMAMENT

Head
A plague doctor mask an a hood when he deals with the sick, though otherwise he doesn’t wear anything.

Neck
Nothing

Chest
Gray monkish robes with long sleeves, a hood and goes as far as his ankles.

Back
A lightly packed bag with simple alchemist tubes and food.

Arm/Shoulder
Nothing

Right Hand
Nothing

Left Hand
A silver ring on his ring ringer.

Right Accessory
Nothing

Left Accessory
Nothing

Waist
A belt that holds a pouch with coins and his dagger, and beneath his robes he wears woolen underwear.

Legs
Nothing.

Feet
Leather booths going slightly above his ankle.


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] – [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
[Very Poor] – He’s too weak to hit anything with any noticeable strength.

Melee Combat:
[Poor] – He only knows how to stab with a dagger, anything else he either won’t do or is too hesitant to try.

Armed Combat:
[Very Poor] – He’s afraid of dying, he’ll avoid such circumstances whenever he can.

Magic Combat:
[Excellent] – Being a man of his reputation and background, he’s had quite a few duels with other wizards and armed men.

Mounted Combat:
[Very Poor] – “You expect me to fight on THAT?!”

Racial Abilities
None in particular.

Natural Talent
Sophisticated Memory: [Perfect] Having studied for as many years as Klause, he has developed a powerful memory, making him able to remember many spells and books.

A Man of Science: [Excellent] Klause gave up the whole idea of almighty gods and superstition. Unlike many of his fellow mages, Klause doesn’t believe that there is need for such cautious awareness, “A spell does not require more preparation than written.” Klause does acknowledge the effects that magic has, however he won’t believe that it is a sign of anything else than a “Weak ability to master magic.”

Class Skills
Read Magic: [Good] Klause has studied magic for a long time, but he is not a Master.

Spell Caster: [Good] Experience has given Klause the ability to master a few spells from the top of his head.

Spells/Powers
Animate Undead Minions [Major]: [Excellent] Klause able to easily summon the dead back from their grave, and in their hordes. While this spell ranges from the hordes of slow moving zombies to the few, deadly, wraiths.

Diseases: [Good] With the combined knowledge of medicine and necromancy, Klause can summon hordes of rats which he then contaminates with diseases. His personal knowledge limits what sort of diseases he can contaminate them with plus he has to consider how long he will survive himself as the rats can easily infect him!

Talk With the Dead: [Perfect] This ritual allows Klause to open a verbal portal through which he can commune with the dead. The ritual requires much preparation, including a personal item (Hair, clothes they wore, etc.) to identify the dead with. The dead, however, will answer any and all questions truthfully as it is under the will of the necromancer.

Death Fire: [Average] This spell is similar to that of ‘Fireball’ however instead of normal flames, it is blue flames that engulf the unfortunate victim.

Notable Spells in Klause's Grimoire:
Undead Frenzy: This spell generates some of Klause's own mental strength and physical endurance into unholy energies that makes his minions double their effort, reaching peak human conditions if not beyond. The side effect is, the moment the spell is ended or disrupted, the minions freeze in whatever position they were in, and remains as such till their master has recovered.

Shadow Shield: This spell allows the necromancer to wrap himself in amongst the shadows, disappearing completely. He isn't hidden to the keen senses of non-humanoid being however.

Guidance of Nark'razat: This ritual is a complex way of gaining an audience with a long dead arch lich. This lich has great insight for magic and its many forms, however it is a gamble for whether it provides useful information or riddles.

Flesh Men: This is a mixture of foul medical science and necromantic magic that brings to life an abomination that has been sewed together by multipel human corpses. The creature is known to have many shapes, depending on the number of men combined to create it, though the most well known Flesh Men created was the horrifying Lumberstein

Undead Reincarnate: This spell brings a soul into the body of a dead person. It works similarly to bringing a man back to life, however they are trapped within the immortal body of an undead. Normally these men and women retain some of their former personality, however with time (Years to be exact) their will is destroyed by their master and they are reduced to normal ghouls or zombies.



EQUIPMENT

Items
-Simple testing tubes.
-Bread, cheese and water.
-Grimoire
-Book of medical treatments.

Memorabilia
-Grimoire
-Silver ring (Left hand).

Accessories


Weapon
Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Dagger
Material: Iron
Ammo: none
Length: 22.8 cm (9 inches)
Weight: 0.35 kg (0.7 pounds)
Weapon Description/Info: A common dagger that could have been made by any blacksmith.

Weapon Name: Grimoire of the Necromancer Mathias Stephansen
Weapon Type: Spell book.
Material: Aracane Material
Length: 1ft x 1ft
Weight: 0.8 kg (1.7 pounds)
Weapon Description/Info: This book is covered in human skin. It has a black lizard skull attached to it, and the pages within are written on in blood and green goo. It contains a variety of languages as well as rituals.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
William's Lions. Though the alliance between the two is rather fragile, William Needs Klause's medical knowledge to save his soldiers from dying of infection while William protects Klause from close combat and allows him to study in peace.

Faction
Klause works mainly for himself, but the times are hard and finding people to leech from are even harder. Klause doesn’t mind whatever faction offers him a possibility to research in peace, though he isn’t a fool.

Marital Status
Widower.

Relatives
-Father and Mother (Decreased)
-Younger Brother (Alive)
-Wife (Decreased)
-Son (Alive)

Origin
Umsterdam, Ethona.

Social Rank
Gentleman.

Occupation
Officially Doctor, but secretly Necromancer.

Blood Pact
None

Bio/History

Klause von Stein was born in Umsterdam in the Desolated Plains; born within a Gentlamen family and being the first born, he was destined to take over the lands and continue serving the lord. Though, it wasn’t what happened.
Klause became older, and already from the age of seven he found a strong liking in reading, studying everything his childish hands could come across, from small books to large tomes of history.

The local lord saw an opportunity as little Klause possessed an astonishing memory of everything he read; the lord wanted Klause to travel to the capital and gain a proper education. Young Klause did so, and at the age of 21 he had finished the Great Thinker’s Academy of Illumine, having gained a major understanding of medicine and a small understanding of laws, economy and chemistry.

During his stay in the capital, Klause had made friends with intellectuals from the Illumine Fundamental Wizard College, having enjoyed deep philosophical and social debates with these men, Klause send a letter to the lord, requesting permission to attend to the Wizard College before he returned. The lord granted this, in return Klause was to teach everything he had learned to his child, so he, or she, could serve the lord just as Klause had and so forth.

The life in Illumine Fundamental Wizard College was harsh. The competition was merciless, and at first Klause was convinced that he would die due to the stress and pressure that both peers and teachers placed upon him. Though time and experience soon made him learn, and that knowledge he used to gain momentum, getting ahead of his peers in their studies. Working as a doctor at the nearest temple during the day and studying during the night, Klause’s body slowly began to become more and more skeletal; he simply didn’t eat when he was studying and when he worked as a doctor he was too busy to feed himself. Fifteen times had the Healing Conjunction Wizards saved his life from dying due to starvation and fifteen times had he been threatened with being expelled if he didn’t set a proper example to the younger wizards.

However during his studies he wrote two extraordinary pieces of scientific and magical reports that he presented to his mentors and peers. The first was Fire; More than warm and more than cooking. This report discussed how a man could use the heat of fire to create a “Hot Air Balloon,” which he then demonstrated using a model to carry a stone over the walls of the college.
His second report was called, “An easier way to save life.” Within this report he criticized the temple and churches’ abuse of the locals’ superstition, pointing out that if the living standards of the common people were raised but a little, the death rates would decline massively. That included washing, combing for lice and changing clothes as well as the need to maintain a clever diet, mainly focused around fish, as Klause claimed that fish was the perfect food dish.

At the end of both of his reports he would always mention that, “Due to the lack of technological and magical advancement, these improvements cannot be achieved for the masses at the current time. This report is to lay the base steps for the future scientists, physicians, and Master Wizards. As time passes, the human race progresses.”
These reports were also kept within the college as the headmaster feared the wrath of both the commoners and that of the temple if these reports were released.

After seven years of intensive studying was Klause von Stein finally an initiate. Having learned the basics that the college had to offer and having red through nothing but the most complex books they had within their library, he set off to become apprentice to a Master Wizard, or perhaps even an oracle!
Klause spend a year and three months searching for a man to be his mentor, never satisfied with whatever higher ranked wizard he did cross. He was educated in saving lives, and he hungered in broadening that trade, being able to study the life and the death of the living. That was when he met the man who would show him his path, Mathias Stephansen.

Both the local authorities as well as the temple wanted Mathias Stephansen, he had committed grave robbery, kidnapping and many other vile deeds however when he presented his reasons to Klause as well as the results, he was amazed. Mathias had discovered the cure for several diseases, including the vicious Red-Neck Pox. Klause committed himself to Mathias’ cause, working faithfully as his servant as the two used living subjects to test upon.

Two years passed as the two necromancers worked in the dark. Klause would do his experiments on humans, creating and curing diseases which he eagerly noted down in his own notebooks while Mathias did his own experiments behind shut doors. Klause didn’t bother his master, telling himself that it was only for the better of the people to work with him
Well, at least he continued to believe that lie till he finally saw the horrors that were behind the shut doors.

The two had only kidnapped two, maybe three, men and women which they experimented on, though when Klause accidentally entered Mathias’ private room to deliver his latest discovery he found a book open on the desk. Not shying away, Klause began to read the book eagerly only to discover that Mathias Stephansen wasn’t working towards the same goal as he, no
He was looking for ways in which he could spread the diseases that Klause discovered, and how to combine men and machines together, or animals with spirits from other worlds. The notes, drawings and even the preparations for Mathias’ rituals were so ghastly that Klause dropped the book from his hands and fled the room, returning to the safety of his own laboratory.

That night Klause prepared to fight his first wizard in his life. It could be his first and last, or it could only be his first; he attacked during dinner, having summoned undead minions and prepared combat spells he made the first move and surprised Mathias with his betrayal.
The battle between the two was epic indeed, the screeches of banshees howled through the night as ghouls, zombies and other horrors of the night savagely fought one another, green, blue and black flames flew through the air and the dead spirits came to life as the ethereal boundaries between the realm of the dead and living almost shattered.

In the end Klause was triumphant. Wounded and weak, his body suffered both the price of using magic and being his by his opponent’s spells making the little finger on his left hand black. Retreating back to his lair where he hoped that he could recover in peace, but he was mistaken. Their battle had not gone unheard, and when the lair of the necromancers were discovered Klause had to, painfully, strip himself of his clothes and lock himself within one of the cages, appearing to be the last survivor.
The folks that found him nurtured him back to health, and showing his gratitude he stayed and healed the town-folks sick and dying, now that he had a much stronger of the ways of death, he could elude its cold touch from the people.

Afterward he returned to the lair. It had been burned down by devil hunters and paladins, but that didn’t matter for Klause knew that while the furniture and small notes were gone, the first Grimoire of Mathias Stephansen wasn’t as easily destroyed. Guarded by wards of protection it had endured the flames unharmed, and to Klause’s relief this Grimoire contained the original purpose that he had been offered, unlike the second Grimoire that had horrified him.
With that in his possession now, Klause set back for Umsterdam to fulfill his part of the bargain.

When he returned he discovered that the previous lord had died from age and his son had taken over, though it didn’t make the largest difference, only he had to serve a much younger lord now. The new lord was
Well, far from as caring over for the people, he wished to use Klause’s knowledge over trade and taxation in order to obtain the gold he wished.

Klause decided that it was none of his business. His whole family had served the bloodline of lords, so this wasn’t going to be any different. Poverty started to erupt in the streets of Umsterdam, people were being enslaved more than before, bound by large debts. Klause did nothing else than offer the advise he could for his new lord, all the while he was married to a woman named Cecilia Grouter, the woman that he felt the most affection for in his whole life. The marriage didn’t last long as a powerful disease struck her while carrying child and no matter what cure he treated her with, it did nothing.

Growing desperate as he saw his wife fade away from him he turned to desperate measures, scouring the Grimoire of Mathias Stephansen for anything that could help he found a ritual that looked promising. In the dark of night he performed the ritual. The Grimoire said that he was to wait till sunrise before he could see the effect.
Sunrise came, and Klause had never been happier in his life; his wife had given birth to their son without a single sound being heard. He embraced the two and felt the shutter of fear, where the boy was warm and lively his wife was cold and emotionless. The child made noise while the woman was silent. The child looked at his father but Cecilia didn’t acknowledge the presence of anything.

It didn’t take long before the whole city knew of Klause’s deed, no matter how much he tried to explain, the lord wouldn’t hear of it. Without neither trial, nor hearing, Klause was sentenced to death
That was when Klause cut the last bondage with humane emotions, enraged he summoned his powers, causing havoc and atrocities through the mansion which his lord had judged him in.
Fleeing the city, Klause spend the following years running and hiding; hunted by paladins, wizards and assassins he learned how tough it was to survive and often he had to battle against those who stood in his way.

Knowing that using his real name wouldn’t do him any good, he his alias ‘Ichor’ after the chemicals that he would inject into his patience, be they sick or healthy. He worked on fading out of the interest of the temple, nobles and the kingdom itself, being a shadow traveling from town to town, plaguing the homeless and exploiting the sick, hoping to find the ultimate cure for the masses of humanity.

“This city be damned. I am on a noble quest beyond your understanding, you cross my path and you shan’t live to hinder me again.” Those were the last words heard spoken by a mercenary who survived an attack on his lair; the lair was destroyed but the mercenaries had found death and restlessness.


Mount

Appearance:
Name: Mike
Type: Horse
Breed: Banker
Coloring:Brown
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
Build: Sturdy.
Height: 175 cm (66.9 inches)
Weight: 800 kg (1,763.6 pounds)
Last edited by Saxious on Tue Aug 23, 2011 7:08 am, edited 2 times in total.
"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment."
~Buddha

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Saxious
Member for 16 years
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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lifecharacter on Mon Aug 22, 2011 8:23 pm

Seric Uradel : Alchemist of God
Image
"I will never kneel before a man, that is why I serve him."


PHYSICALITY

Description
Seric's body shows his upbringing; no visible imperfections in the skin, and a face that seems like it's only experience in the world has been through a book. Although, the eyes show the evidence of his many sleepless nights. Lines are present under the eyes and they themselves are often red with strain.

He moves quickly and quietly, avoiding eye contact whenever possible. it seems as though if you were not specifically looking for him, he would pass you unnoticed. The clothes he wears are a normal sight inside any royal place.

Appearance
Hair: Loose light brown hair that hangs just below his ears.
Facial Hair: The occasional stubble, but mostly clean shaven
Eyes: Dark brown
Build: Somewhere between slim and average, somewhat athletic.
Skin Tone: Moderate tan
Height: 5' 8''
Weight: 134 lbs.
Voice: Reassuring but somewhat monotone.
Handed: Right
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: None
Unique Body Features: None

Name
Seric Uradel

Nickname
None that he is aware of.

Title
Royal Advisor

Race
Human

Visual Age
24

Factual Age
58

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Mage Ranking
Adept

Class
Mage

Specialization
Alchemist


MENTALITY

Personality
Seric has been a shut in for most of his life but has gained a fondness for animals, especially dogs, and will quickly dismiss someone to give one attention. He is normally relaxed when he's not criticizing someone's mistake or studying, and There is a large variety of what he finds funny and he has no problem expressing that, regardless of the situation. Due to these aspects he has alienated a large number of the people he has met, thankfully his lord was not one of them. Although he believes himself to be superior to almost everyone, he is very good at retaining his composure and making sure he is not too open about it.

He has served the God King since his conquest and will continue to serve for as long as he is able; a loyal Advisor who hopes for Azrael's success over anything else.

Quirks
Has open conversations with himself, often turning into arguments.

Moral Alignment
Lawful Evil

Virtue/Creed


Motivation
To continue studying his craft.
To continue to serve Azrael, someone he deeply respects.
To live an exceptionally long life.

Fears
The anger and disappointment of those he considers close.

Goal
Help his lord achieve Ascension and master the art of alchemy.

Likes
- Animals
- Praise
- Games

Dislikes
- Children
- The ignorant
- The cold

Strengths
- Alchemy
- His creations
- Support of the God King

Weaknesses
- His curiosity has led to many problems from being bit by wild dogs to encountering brigands while traveling.
- His bad eyesight is something he is working on fixing, but until then his reading in the dark has cost him that.
- His body, without the support of his magic, is weak due to his reliance on transmutations.


ARMAMENT

Head
Nothing but his glasses, or a pair of goggles.

Neck
None

Chest
Simple cloth clothing whose material varies from day to day.

Back
If he is outside or planning on going there he wears a hooded cloak.

Arm/Shoulder
None

Right Hand
Cloth gloves with a transmutation circle sewn into them that is regularly inspected. Leather gloves are worn when working with more volatile chemicals.

Left Hand
Cloth gloves with a transmutation circle sewn into them that is regularly inspected. Leather gloves are worn when working with more volatile chemicals.

Right Accessory
A silver ring.

Left Accessory
None

Waist
A leather belt studded with steel.

Legs
Pants that match the material of the other clothing.

Feet
Usually barefoot, but wears leather boots when traveling.


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
Poor: He's only been in these sorts of fights with his older brothers... they always won.
Melee Combat:
Below Average: He was tutored in the use of a sword during his childhood. When he became independent he stopped practicing.
Armed Combat:
Above Average: While he stopped practicing with a bow at the same time as the sword, he has been studying the operation of the new hand cannons.
Magic Combat:
Excellent: He has stores of potions for most occasions and is constantly studying to learn new and better techniques.
Mounted Combat:
Very Poor: While he has no problem riding, the use of any sort of weapon would most likely end up killing him or the mount before even touching an opponent.

Racial Abilities
Ambition

Natural Talent
Analytical Mind: [Good]- It's rather hard to learn the exact formulae and proportions needed to pull off masterful alchemy.
Pain Tolerance: [Good]- Due to continued experimentation on his body, he has noticed that everything seems less severe now.

Class Skills
Transmutation: [Excellent]- He has memorized the known elements and their reactions to each other. He is able to cast large scale and very specific transmutations.
Potions: [Good]- Having practiced enough, he has learned the correct ingredients and proportions that go to most if not all types of potions, even correcting some references he used.

Spells/Powers
Organic Transmutation: [Excellent]- He learned this the first time he tried to fix a cut using the flesh of a live pig, and has never stopped experimenting.
Soul Binding: [Excellent]- He has a small squad of loyal guardsmen bound to suits of armor. He has bound others to less wieldy objects.
Transmutation: [Perfect]- Whether it be something large and simple or small and intricate, Seric is able to create it if given the right ingredients.


EQUIPMENT

Items
He carries small books that he's reading around with him to pass the time.

Memorabilia
A small vial of blood from his first dog, someone he plans to bring back one day.

Accessories
His silver ring.

Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Dagger
Material: Steel
Ammo: None
Length: 12'' two of which are the handle.
Weight: 0.8 lbs.
Weapon Description/Info: A small dagger he uses to draw blood with.

Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Pistol
Material: Wooden frame with iron mechanisms.
Ammo: Lead shots
Length: 14''
Weight: 4 lbs.
Weapon Description/Info: A medieval hand cannon that is lucky to get off one shot per minute.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
None

Faction
The Holy Kingdom of Azrael

Marital Status
Single

Relatives
Father and two older brothers live in the mainland. The third brother was killed in a drunken brawl.
Mother deceased.
Multiple cousins spread throughout the mainland.

Origin
Born to a count of an eastern nation.

Social Rank
Baron

Occupation
Head Alchemist

Blood Pact
None

Bio/History
Seric was the fourth son of a count, leaving him no set path like the others were given. His tutors suggested that he be sent to a foreign court to learn and to possibly increase their social standing. He found books about the country of Cam lire in the family library and studied them during his travels.

When he arrived he was greeted with open arms and given a comfortable place to stay and a new group of tutors. Unlike before, the majority of these focused on magical study, and the number of them dwindled when he discovered his talent as an alchemist. Since his discovery he spent less and less time around people and more time studying, conducting many of his works in secret.

When he was amongst the court, something he only did on rare occasions, a man arrived to greet them. He was a man who had risen from poverty to his current status. After the formalities had finished and people began to disperse he had asked to see the library. The host tasked me with taking him there and helping him find anything he needed. Seric guided him through the halls and gathered the massive amount of books he requested. He answered his few questions and brought him his meals when he had refused to leave. They spoke occasionally during the man's stay at the court, mostly about magic and the location of the next book. A particular question Seric did ask was why the man was so committed to studying at his level; he should be spending time practicing to hone what he already knows. It seems that he was looking for an Arch Mages grimoire, and that any reference would be helpful.

He left a week later, but after several years he returned with conquest in his heart and godly power flowing through him.


Experiments


AppearanceImage

Hair: None
Eyes: Brown
Build: Very large and muscular build.
Height: 6' 5''
Weight: 358 lbs.
Body Markings:
Scar Tissue: Scars and stitches are found over his entire body.

Name
Number 49

Nickname
Titan, 49

Race
Transhuman

Age
46

Gender
Male

Abilities
Reinforced body: Not only were his bones made denser but his skin was given toughness far beyond that of any normal human.

Increased strength: While his bones and skin were altered, so were the muscles to support the new body.

Skills
Intimidate

Improvised Weapon

Equipment
Chains and steel-studded, leather clothing.
He'll normally be found wearing a hooded cloak when out of combat.

Accessories
None

Bio/History
Number 49 once went by the name of Marcus Orain, a member of a prominent group of thugs on the outskirts of Wolfeil. He was captured when an assault on a caravan of the kingdom failed. Being of a large stature he was taken to the black market to be sold as a laborer, only to be bought by Seric. After being brought to his lab Marcus faced multiple experiments, leaving him as a larger, empty shell of his former self. He now serves his master blindly and wholeheartedly.


AppearanceImage

Hair: Gray and black fur.
Eyes: Black
Build:
Height: 5' 8'' when completely erect
Weight: 155 lbs.
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: A few scars on her upper back and neck.

Name
Minna

Nickname
None

Race
Dog

Age
7

Gender
Female

Abilities
Dark Vision: She is able to see just as far and just as well in both the dark and during the day.

Pack Mentality: Being the strongest of Seric's dogs allows her to lead them just as well as any alpha male.

Skills
Hunting and Tracking:

Equipment
None

Accessories
A few dog toys such as a leather ball and a cloth doll.

Bio/History
When she was born she quickly became the largest of the litter, and continued to grow allowing her to hold dominance over the other dogs. She was also one of Seric's favorites and when he noticed that she had stopped growing he took her to his lab and gave her constant sedatives throughout the procedure that made her the way she is now. It took her some time to become more adjusted to her body and for the other dogs to adjust to her, but soon she was reigning over them once again and pestering him to play with her while he worked.


AppearanceImage

Hair: White hair that's solely for decoration.
Eyes: None
Build: Large suit of heavy armor.
Height: 6' 2''
Weight: 215 lbs.
Body Markings: Blood runes and marks to help distinguish between them.
Scar Tissue: The occasional wear on the armor.

Name
Soul Bound

Nickname
None

Race
Varies, Living armor

Age
Varies

Gender
Varies

Abilities
Endless Stamina: They are unable to feel tired.

Skills
Battle Experience: Every one of them was once a skilled warrior.

Equipment
Varying melee weapons

Accessories
Some carry mementos of their former lives.

Bio/History
Each of the soul bound was once great warrior who distinguished themselves as above the norm. Whether it was in the arena or on the field of battle they were able to catch Seric's attention. Once he had taken notice of them they were all given a proposition; to give up their bodies and take up residence in suits of armor. Some were swayed by the idea of fighting forever and accepted, leaving their bodies behind. They now serve as Seric's soldiers and guard him while in the palace and during the God King's many campaigns.


AppearanceImage
Hair: Grayed hair that reaches her lower back.
Eyes: Yellow, reptilian eyes.
Build: A slim but powerful female body with the large lower body of a snake.
Height: From the tip of her tail to the top of her head it measures around thirty-five feet.
Weight: About 700 lbs.
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: A few scars around where the procedures were conducted.

Name
Euryale

Nickname
None

Race
Transhuman

Age
17

Gender
Female

Abilities
Dark Vision: She can see perfectly well in the dark.

Acidic Venom: She has small pockets of poison glands that produce a substance that burns most organic matter. Incredibly painful, but not necessarily lethal.

Skills
Flexibility: She has the flexibility of a snake, obviously.

Wall Crawl: Her underbelly has the gripping nature found in most snakes.

Combat: She has practiced with her claws, teeth, and her blade and become quite good in her seventeen years with a new body.

Equipment
Her claws and the blade attached to her right arm are very sharp and very durable. Her claws are normally coated with small amounts of poison as well. She doesn't wear armor considering her skin has been made as tough and repairable as snakes skin.

Accessories
She kept a small necklace from before the transformation.

Bio/History
Euryale was a prostitute Seric found on the streets of Illumine. She had a badly beaten body and was rather sickly. He offered her a change of lifestyle and a chance to serve their king, and she accepted. When the procedure had finished she no longer felt the pain she had before and no longer held her constant sickness. When she became accustomed to her new body she thanked him and he allowed her to travel around certain parts of the castle when she wasn't staying at his manor.


AppearanceImage
Hair: None
Eyes: None
Build: Slim and capable of tackling an average sized person easily.
Height: 5' 6''
Weight: 153 lbs.
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: None

Name
Number 27

Nickname
27

Race
N/A

Age
24

Gender
Asexual (Mostly referred to as a he)

Abilities
Enhanced Senses: His lack of eyesight is more than compensated with his increased hearing and smelling prowess.

Poisoned Bite: His mouth contains an incredibly toxic saliva that will kill any mortal, without the antidote or a resistance to it, within a matter of hours. The highest lifespan in tests was four.

Skills
Wall Crawl: His hands and feet are able to grip most surfaces with enough strength to support him even while upside down.

Hunting and Tracking: During tests 27 was able to hunt down every last prey placed within the large underground structure of Seric's manor.

Equipment
None

Accessories
None

Bio/History
An early experiment created by Seric on a whim. He was constructed from bits and pieces of various animals and resulted in something unexpected after a few attempts. Not very attached to it, he decided to lock it in the underground with other disposable creatures. After a few days he went down to look for some materials and found many of them dead. Upon further inspection he discovered that it was due to poisoning injected via multiple bite wounds, and that is when he noticed 27 hiding in a crevice of the wall. He has used 27 for many reasons, mostly to hunt down targets who have fled into caves or sewer systems.


AppearanceImage
Hair: None
Eyes: Red
Build: Heavy and athletic
Height: 5' 11''
Weight: 425 lbs.
Body Markings:
Scar Tissue: Scratches on his hard exoskeleton.

Name
Number 32

Nickname
32, Panzer

Race
Transhuman

Age
20

Gender
Male

Abilities
Exoskeleton: His skin has strength comparable to bone.

Increased Strength: To compensate for his increased weight, his muscles have been enhanced even more than Number 49's.

Dark Vision: Using what he learned from other experiments, Seric applied what he learned to 32's eyes.

Skills
Walking Tank: He is able to take a very large amount of attacks without much damage actually being inflicted.

Blade: He has gotten use to his new body and in using the blade that has replaced his right arm.

Equipment
None

Accessories
None

Bio/History
Number 32 was taken from one of the God King's prisons by Seric when he needed more materials. He was given an incredibly painful procedure that surpassed even 49's. His skin might as well have been hardened to bone and his insides were torn apart and reconstructed to allow him the ability to even move. Compared to the rest, having his arm remade into a large blade with additional materials wasn't as torturous. 32 no longer can speak, not that he has much to talk about, and serves he alchemist with great loyalty, having had that idea pressed deep into his mind.
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Last edited by Lifecharacter on Thu Sep 08, 2011 7:26 pm, edited 14 times in total.

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Abaddon: The Destroyer (Character Sheet)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Black on Mon Aug 22, 2011 8:41 pm

Abaddon: The Destroyer
Image
"And I will destroy those who worshiped me but no longer do."


PHYSICALITY

Description
As the destroyer, one would think of Abaddon being a giant beast of a demon, standing at a staggering ten feet. However they would be wrong in this case, the demon himself is always changing his form in order to blend in with society and to avoid being identified. It’s unknown even what his true appearance looks like anymore, whether he has actually shown it or not. Perhaps even this was his true appearance, no one knows (apart from Abaddon of course). In this particular form, he stands at the average height of a human, five foot ten inches. Not the most tallest of humans around but neither is he the most shortest. Abaddon takes great pride in his current body and thus treats it with great respect, he stands up completely straight, not allowing the slightest bit of slack to affect his body. He easily makes the most of his height, ensuring that he intimidates his opponents as best as possible (this is hard given his current form). He is of a small build but maintains a healthy weight and signs of physical fitness, being slightly toned around his body. Though Abaddon remains concealed within his clothes, his arms have decent sized muscles as well as a firm set of muscles upon his chest. Despite all of this, he has a frail body where bones can easily be broken, not that he would ever leave an opening to be attacked. His slightly tanned skin remains flawless in every way, this is due to him constantly switching bodies, not allowing the skin to scar or keep any kind of punishment. His face is slightly triangular, with a pointed chin, however the skin seems somewhat translucent with natural beauty as well as keeping up a soft and silky complexion. Thin pale pink lips which seem forever pulled into an amused smile, even when fighting The Destroy cannot help but smile. In fact, it’s extremely rare for him to show any other emotion.

Abaddon’s eyes are the one thing which never change throughout his many appearances, they are forever staying the same, whether he is able to change these or not is unknown. Perhaps The Destroyer just wishes to keep one feature of his appearance throughout his many transformations. Saffron yellow in colour but can easily seem golden in different lights. The black slits are extremely narrow and reach from the top of the eye to just above the bottom, not completely spanning the entire length of the eye. They are easily comparable to a cat’s eye, however whether they allow Abaddon to see better in the dark or not is unknown. The bright almond shaped eyes emit a small glow when enraged or when using a bit of his powers. They hold a piercing sense, one which makes the eyes seem like daggers, constantly stabbing at one’s soul. They are incapable of showing any emotion, whether it be happiness or sadness, they are completely inexpressive. Despite his unusual eyes, he cannot automatically be identified by these features as they resemble other demon’s too. Abaddon’s green hair remains a mystery as to why a creature such as himself would choose the strange colour. However green isn’t the only colour which is in his hair, the ends of it are tinted a golden colour, giving the sense of some unnatural highlights. His untamed hair holds a straight but choppy look to it, being spiked at the back of his head and thick strands falling either sides of his face, arranged in many layers. On the right hand side, he wears four black clips to keep the mess of hair away from his face, unable to keep the overly long fringe on the left hand side. It covers his left eye completely and the longest strand of hair rest a few below his shoulder. The hair is wiry and coarse, which is easily seen from a great distance as there is no shine upon his hair.

Casually attired in a long green robe, Abaddon’s clothing has some significance to him, however this is the first time he has actually been seen in it. It reaches down to his knees where the grey material of the trousers beneath show through, dragging along the ground as he walks on bare feet. At both of his long opened sleeves and the high rise neck line, feathers of a legendary black griffin spray out randomly. The feathers do not ever loose their soft texture, neither do they fall from their place. From afar this is a feature unable to be picked upon, hinting only as the light shines off of the items. Exactly thirty-four golden keys are attached to his robe by the uses of black ribbons and solid gold rings. Each key represents a contract Abaddon has been involved in, including the one he currently has with Azrael. Each key has a corresponding box inside of The Destroyer’s prison, the box itself contains the soul of the contractor, the particular souls which Abaddon doesn’t wish to use quite yet and thus keeps them safely somewhere else. As to why he decided to carry the keys on his person rather than leaving them somewhere else is unknown. As well as his eyes, another unseen feature is always carried within the body of Abaddon; his wings. Though they aren’t always seen on his person, he can grow them within a few seconds if need be, although he tends to stray away from using his wings as the unique design of them is well known. Black in colour and ripped in various places as the leather apparel of them looks damaged, they are still perfectly capable of flight as they always had been. The wing span measures an enormous ten feet, per wing, when stretched out. As mentioned before, the design of them is unusual, even for a demon. Whilst having the traditional claw at the top of the wing, it has another curve upwards with no claw on further back and towards the base of the wing. It is exactly this reason as to why Abaddon can easily be recognized by his wings. The Demon King is also known for his curved horns, however whilst they usually curve up above his head, this time they curve into his head. Protruding from beneath his hair, the white ram horns make no progress going up, instead the thickness of them curves straight back into his head, almost making a complete circle.

Appearance
Hair: Pistachio Green
Facial Hair: None
Eyes: Saffron (Golden Yellow) ~ When enraged or using part of his power, his eyes emit a small glow.
Build: Small Build, Healthy, Physically Fit
Skin Tone: Lightly Tanned
Height: 5'11 ft
Weight: 155 lbs
Voice: Smooth, Rich, Dark Echoing Whisper
Handed: Ambidextrous
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: None
Unique Body Features: Two rather large curved horns protruding from beneath his hair. They resemble that of a ram's and are dirty white in colour, almost to the point of being brown. Abaddon's eyes also resemble that of a cat as the pupil is narrow and slitted, the unique colour also gives the same sense away.

Name
Abaddon

Nickname
Abe

"Unless your name is Azrael: The God King, I suggest you call me by my full name and title."

Title
Abaddon: The Destroyer/King Of Demons

"Do remember that, especially the 'King' part."

Race
Demon

Visual Age
21

Factual Age
As old as the world itself.

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

"Not that I care for love."

Mage Ranking
Ascendant

Class
Abaddon is not bound by the limitations of mortals.

Specialization
Abaddon is not bound by the limitations of mortals.


MENTALITY

Personality
As a demon, one would expect them to be heartless creatures who do nothing but cause trouble. Abaddon is no exception, however some question if he goes over the top when carrying out his trouble making abilities. Aggressive by nature and one of the most cold hearted demons you would ever meet, he serves as the root of all stereotypical demons, being one of the first ever and their ruler too. Vague and delivering devious little details which are to confuse those he speaks to, coaxing them into something they don't quite understand. In other words; tricking them. Always forcing them into life fracturing situations and decisions where of course, he would come out on top. He shows no unnecessary emotions and cares not for the lives he damages. Abaddon would do nothing to help anyone unless it benefited him in some form or another, if it brings no help to him then in his eyes it is not worth using his power over. He shoots out dark intentions and malice in a deadly rage to anyone who manages to break his cold outer-shell (which is rare). As such he has developed a rather deadly and intimidating aura around him, warning off anyone who dares to try and get on his bad side.

Abaddon is a quick thinker, he is able to calculate a plan within seconds, a decent enough trait to limit the harm brought to Azrael. Though he seems to disregard all safety for himself and his contractor when he becomes angry, he is just bent on doing one thing; killing. Azrael is probably one of the only people Abaddon gets along with as he can be a tough person to speak with, with his arrogant remarks. He considers himself higher than everyone else (with the exception of Azrael, whom he puts on the same level as himself) and as such will always talk down to others, being patronizing and acting as if they are not good enough to be in his presence. He can be defensive of Azrael's reputation too, as he holds him on the same level as himself, thus not allowing certain people to speak directly with Azrael. Abaddon will never admit that he cares for Azrael directly, he just states that it is his job and that he doesn't enjoy it.

If one were to describe Abaddon in just three words, they would be; cold, arrogant and devious.

"Just accept that scum like you, may not talk to two important rulers such as us."

Quirks
Abbadon has a strange affinity for the flavor of oranges, he will always put part of one or the juices of one in whatever he is drinking. However he hates eating raw oranges.

Moral Alignment
Chaotic Evil

Virtue/Creed
Abbadon believes in the fact that everyone has a certain role to fulfill, whether it is important or minor, their role has already been decided and their fate has been sealed, it cannot be changed no matter how hard you try. He does believes himself to be one of the only beings able to change their future.

"All our destinies are written in invisible ink. Blood is the only item that reveals the natures our futures."

Motivation
His only motivation is to avoid being sealed once again in the pages of the grimoire. Thus he will do anything to avoid such a fate, even working with the most irritating of humans.

"I'm only doing this for myself. It's not as if I care for your life."

Fears
Returning to his eternal prison and never being let out again. He never wants to take that chance.

"I shall never return to that prison!"

Goal
Though Abaddon has no real goals, other than causing chaos whenever possible, he wishes to remain outside the pages of the Collector's Grimoire.

Likes
In spite of his fellow demons, Abaddon does not enjoy needless killing, torturing or capturing young women. Though he agrees it is an interesting way to ease bordem, he has much better things which he could be doing, such as ensuring that he doesn't ever go back to that prison. He loves a good game -- a wager if you will -- where the currency differs greatly from the ones used in trivial games done by the other creatures. He especially loves it when he wins, but the sheer thrill of the game and messing with the emotions of others is greatly amusing for him too. As mentioned before, he loves an orange flavor in his drinks and nothing beats that better than sitting back and enjoying the show. He's just a mere spectator to many things.

"Would you like to play a game?"

Dislikes
Once again, The Destroyer differs from his demonic brethren. Whilst he doesn't hate all things good and sweet, he also doesn't hate destroying everything in his path. Learning that the hard way by being locked away for recklessly charging through towns and destroying families, he has grown to dislike such acts anymore and carries himself in a much higher manner than that of his stubborn brothers. He is quite honorable for a demon and thus hates anyone who cheats or deceits (which is strange given his devious side). While his main pass-time is spectating, he hates interruptions of all kinds, he'll become extremely annoyed at such actions and even intervene himself. Though this may come as a shock, Abaddon's greatest pet peeve is loneliness. Simply because no one can enjoy themselves on their own, so he always requires the presence of others, even if he really hates them. He actually learnt of his dislike of being alone when he was sealed away within the Collector's Grimoire.

"Think before you jump between Azrael and his opponent, it might just end with your death."

Strengths
He was not named by sitting around all day (though he does enjoy to just watch), no. Abaddon got his name from flaunting his skills around towns and cities, being able to level them within a short period of time, as well as single handedly taking on armies of soldiers. His strength lies completely in his mastery of combat. He has taken on Gods and even managed to become one himself -- well almost, if not for being interrupted.

Weaknesses
Considering his immensely polished combat skills and vast knowledge in the art of magic, one would think that he is without weakness, but of course that is untrue. Abaddon's greatest weakness is himself. Being a lover of a good game and wager and above all; trickery and deceit, Abaddon's mind betrays him thus making him susceptible to other's lies and deception. Anyone who knows of his tale can plainly see this.


ARMAMENT

Apart from the horns on his head, Abaddon bears no protection of his body, wearing clothes which could easily be cut through. He has no need for possessions and thus carries none on his person. His lack of armor suggests that he can be cocky when it comes to battle, saying that he doesn't need it. Or perhaps it is to avoid carrying unnecessary weight.

"Is there any need to protect one's body? Perhaps you are just frightened of death."


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
[Perfect] Hand-to-Hand Combat: Despite the weakened build of Abaddon, his close-combat skills are perfected in every way. He has great strength and agility which allow him to evade attacks without much effort and counter within the next few moments. Being known mainly for his hand-to-hand skills, Abaddon has perfect every technique and created a few of his own.

[Above-Average] Melee Combat: His speed allows countless attacks to be executed at once, however the faster Abaddon goes, there becomes less and less power behind his attacks.

[Perfect] Armed Combat: Not particularly his favorite sort of combat as Abaddon feels that carrying a weapon around weighs him down and thus slows him. He believes he can do much more damage with his bare hands, however he does have a weapon which is carried by his side at all times.

[Good] Magic Combat: Usually, magic is not used in fights for Abaddon, however if need be he does use it and to a very high level.

[Very-Poor] Mounted Combat: Unable to trust and actually mount any type of animal for combat, he feels he would do much better on the ground and by himself. Abaddon mainly denies all occasions to actually mount any type of animal, not even for traveling.

Racial Abilities
[Average] Demonic Tongue: A common skill known amongst the demonic race. Able to understand each language of the modern world, all words sound the same to them, the language defined only by an accent. This skill can be easily lost if not practiced, thus Abaddon is a little rusty, but has managed to remember most of it.

Natural Talent
[Perfect] Summoning: Of course Abaddon didn't get his title 'King of Demons' for nothing, he is able to summon almost any demon to do his bidding, which includes inside and outside of fights.

[Excellent] War Lord: Throughout his life, Abaddon has always been subjected to wars. He is a brilliant tactician as well as a fighter and knows all aspects of a war and how to win one.

[Average] Magical Knowledge: More suited for the destructive spells, Abaddon's knowledge to minor and melee spells is limited. However he knows almost all high powered spell there is to know, and how to execute it correctly.

[Above Average] Flight: Able to make his wings grow from his back, Abaddon is capable of flight. However due to the size of his wings, in a much smaller form he cannot move so easily within the air.

[Good] Intelligence: Whilst Abaddon is not a genius, he is devious and thus can be classed as intelligent.

[Below Average] Intimidating Aura: Whilst this would be close to perfection if in a different form, in his current small form he finds it hard to intimidate others. If one does meet him though, they can easily be intimidated when they get to know his personality.

Spells/Powers
[Excellent] Soul Shift/Possession: Being trapped in the Collector's Grimoire, Abaddon kept himself busy collecting souls through various contracts. The souls have many uses to him, the main reason being to populate his prison -- the world inside the pages. But these souls have other uses as well, devouring is one of them; by devouring a soul, Abaddon's abilities increase, this is also used to fuel the spell. He can assume the shape and form of any soul in his collection, providing he devours it. He uses this ability to walk amongst the earth, hiding his true appearance, however he cannot keep it up for too long as he would inherit the soul's strengths and weaknesses as well, eventually nullifying his own and possibly even leaving him trapped in that body.

[Good] Arcane Might: Knowing some of the most powerful Arcana spells, able to split the earth or stop time itself. Abaddon has taught such skills to Azrael, however he still remains higher in skill than him.

[Excellent] Transformation: As well as devouring the soul of a human and taking their appearance, Abaddon can change his regular appearance. However there are limits as to how often he can do this as well as some of the features he is unable to make disappear. His horns being one of them, though they can change in size and shape, they cannot just be made to disappear. His eyes also seem to remain the same throughout his many transformations.


EQUIPMENT

Items
None

Memorabilia
None

Accessories
The only real item worth noting is the four black hair pins in Abaddon's hair. Though he doesn't exactly like them, he hates all of his hair obscuring his vision more, thus he puts them in to keep most of his hair away from his face. He refuses to cut his hair, this being the only other option

Weapon
Weapon Name: Orcus
Weapon Type: Katana (Japanese/Samurai Sword)
Material: Mithril
Length: 70 cm
Weight: 1000 grams
Weapon Description/Info: Made entirely from an ancient material known as Mithril, stronger than steel but much lighter in weight. The blade itself is the traditional silver, the hilt of it being black and made of a material similar to leather, allowing a firm grip upon the weapon. Though it is hardly ever used by Abaddon, he holds it at his side at all times in a pure black sheath. The weapon was actually chosen and forged for him as he wanted something light weight but at the same time sharp and elegant.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
None

Faction
Holy Kingdom Of Azrael

Marital Status
Unknown

Relatives
Unknown

Origin
Unknown

Social Rank
None but considered level with the God King

Occupation
God King's Right Hand

Blood Pact
Blood Pact Contract


His Radiant Honor, the King of Fiends and Conqueror of Empires, Abaddon The Destoyer, henceforth referred to as Abaddon, and Azrael Lazarus Wynter, of the country Cam Lire of Earth, henceforth referred to as Azrael, set forth their Eldritch Contract as follows:

The Service:

Abaddon shall lend the full force of the powers of his person to the objectives defined and stated by Azrael and detailed in this Contract, as follows:

    Imprimis, the claim of the Royal Throne of Cam Lire.

    Secundus, a loyal army for strengthening of the Cam Liren position on the worldwide stage.

    Tertius, to bestow power and understanding of the arcane equal to that of a Oracle.

    Quartus, a long life to enjoy all that he will become to be and own.

The Reward:

In return, Abaddon is granted physicality and freedom in the realm of the contractor.

Conditions:

  • When the agreed-upon term of the primary Contract expires or in the case of death, the soul of Abaddon and those acquired, Thenceforth and without reservation, ceteris paribus, be returned to the prison of which he was summoned from in perpetuity.


  • The secondary Contract, stated thus: by signing this contract, the souls of Abaddon and Azrael shall be shared. If either share perish, their fate is to be shared.


  • Moreover, Abaddon shall not actively work against the Wynter bloodline to bring about their end, and shall send such servants as he deems necessary to ensure the safety of the Wynter bloodline.

  • In return for the above Clause, Azrael and the general Faux bloodline shall provide Abaddon with their royal souls for him to do with as he wishes upon their deaths, again until such time as the Wynter bloodline, as defined in the Contract, passes from the world of Earth.


AbaddonAzrael Lazarus Wynter


Bio/History
To Be Fully Revealed In The RP
Last edited by Black on Tue Aug 23, 2011 5:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Leli on Mon Aug 22, 2011 9:24 pm

KRISTOFF DEAMHAR : GOD KING AZRAEL’S CHAMPION
Image
"The God King's Champion; a man born into and from violence who sought never to change the world, only better himself."


PHYSICALITY

Description
Hellborn commonly carry traits of their fiendish ancestors. Though a minority it is also known that these traits are stronger in some than others. Kristoff would be the latter. Though unsure of what monster birthed his cruel form, it has served him well. Taller than nearly every man at six foot eleven inches and weighing more than two fully grown men people have fallen before he’s even struck a blow. To sum up his face, he’s hideous. He has two black wicked horns that extend from the side of the head, looping around and ending juxtaposed to his jaw. Two more horns grow from below the others and extend backwards curling out and up at the end. Four solid orange eyes are encased in rigid bone that flawlessly molds into the horns. With strong demonic roots the other features of Kristoff aren’t that surprising either. His nose has no cartilage so looks closer to a hole in the face. Teeth are pointed and tinted black with very thin lips to hide them. Like the top of his head rigid bone also guards Kristoff’s wide chin and jaw. The rest of Kristoff is no more attractive. Skin is so taught along the muscles that nearly every detail of the muscle can be seen. Black crooked nails, foul breath stagnant with brimstone, and flesh hot to the touch.


Appearance
Hair: None.
Facial Hair: None.
Eyes: Four eyes of solid orange in deeps set sockets that are in turn encased in bone.
Build: A large muscular build that still borders on an athletic build.
Skin Tone: Skin is a pale brown, almost dirt like colour.
Height: 6’11”
Weight: 346lbs
Voice: Kristoff’s voice is somewhat complicated; it whispers with light hisses, but screams with a demonic tint that seems to shake the foundations of the earth.
Handed: Right.
Body Markings: None.
Scar Tissue: No scars of note.
Unique Body Features: Atop the horns, four eyes, bone plating, odd skin form, possibly the most outstanding body feature of Kristoff is that he lacks a tail.

Name
Kristoff Deamhar

Nickname
Kris

Title
Champion of the God King.

Race
Hellborne

Visual Age
Late thirties or early forties.

Factual Age
39 years old

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Class
Warrior

Specialization
Knight


MENTALITY

Personality
Growing up with violence can ruin a person. Even moreso when that person is the instigator. An acute megalomania developed in Kristoff at a young age. He desired power and status so that his will could bend others to do as he demanded. This held little power in Iceloch, but through murder and violence Kristoff achieved this. He’s by no means a rash man, and instead it would be just to consider him calculating, but naturally cruel. It’s very unlikely that you find him accustomed to waiting for anyone beneath his status to act, but regarding those above him with courtesy and perhaps a sincere admiration.

Quirks
Is a lightweight and over emotional drunk.

Moral Alignment
Neutral Good

Virtue/Creed
‘Pride above all else but duty.’

Motivation
His motivation to serve the God King is due to both his word and desire to exceed normal expectations.

Fears
Along with the sensible fear of being killed for a wrong step Kristoff bears a healthy fear of horses as well as of drowning in water. Both are feared on the basis that, were Kristoff to be found atop a horse or drowning, he couldn’t hope to alter the outcome.

Goal
To serve the God King as Champion until death.

Likes
Meats befitting a royal feast are preferred by the champion, but he enjoys a sloppy plate of steamed vegetables even more. He’s a lover of food and festivities, though rarely shows it. Flight is possibly his favourite hobby.

Dislikes
His dislikes range from the sane, such as slavery, to the unreasonable dislike of entering a room without knocking three times on the door.

Strengths
The strength of the God King Azrael’s Champion is his strength. Through blood he has gained strength greater than ten men, evident by the heavy blade always at his hip. He’s a well endowed warrior and superb fighter.

Weaknesses
If the God King Azrael was the greatest mage in all of Cam Lire, Kristoff would be the strongest warrior. And as the God King Azrael has a weak body, Kristoff is weak in the way of magic. Though even that is an understatement. In truth the hellborn bears no magical affinity in the least.



ARMAMENT

Head
Nothing.

Neck
Nothing.

Chest
A thick cuirass of heavy steel inlayed with gold flux and fluted is probably the greatest piece of armor worn by the champion. It carries grooves along the sides to provide strength where the armor is weakest. The flux extends from pauldrons to placard outlining a great coloured crest of Cam Lire in the cuirass.

Back
The above mentioned cuirass does not leave the back exposed; it extends around the entire torso, but relies heavily on the placard to defend the lower back and the pauldrons to guard the upper back. In this manner it will not greatly impede movement and retains a significant defense. A light brown cloak is also worn making the already grand frame of the champion appear even larger as its tatters extend to below his knees. Held on by small hooks it can easily be removed to fit the role of a traditional cloak.

Arm/Shoulder
The shoulders are guarded by pauldrons atop the thick cuirass. These pauldrons have three overlapping plates, all of which are joined by a small loose plate at the bottom. The bottom edges of the plates are lined with gold flux, and along the center of each a deep groove provides stability to the pauldrons. Beneath the pauldrons a light layer of chainmail descends a short inch near the torso. Lightly armoured vembraces protect the forearm and elbow from minor blows, but do little against true strikes.

Right Hand
A lightly armored gauntlet of which the last two fingers(ring and pinky) are joined. A metal ring on the bottom of the wrist acts as a tie to for the heavy blade at Kristoff’s side during mounted combat.

Left Hand
A slightly less armoured gauntlet than on his right hand, this one instead has thicker leather padding to absorb the pressure from blows carried by the shield.

Right Accessory
None.

Left Accessory
None.

Waist
A placard that serves many uses finds itself cinched tightly around the champions hellborn waist. It serves mainly as a piece to attach the faulds, sword belt and an oddly placed lance rest. The secondary services the placard provides are of course the added defense it provides against low blows and rear attacks.

Legs
The legs are guarded by multiple pieces of armour. Beneath everything is quilted leather used as a base to attach plate to. Lamellae thigh guards descend from faulds which are attached to a placard. The faulds are made with attached steel plates offering similar protection to the thigh guards, though in a decreased state. From the thigh guards leather strappings around the legs are adjoined by yet others which hold heavy greaves tightly to Kristoff’s shins. They like the breastplate are a greyed metal, but are inlayed with gold flux along the edges.

Feet
As the legs have such exceptional armour, so to do the feet. Leather boots for comfort have been reinforced by heavy plating that wraps around the whole of the boot offering superb protection from cheap tricks.


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat: [Excellent] – Trained for years as a soldier it is more than size and strength alone that lend their prowess to Kristoff’s unarmed combat.

Melee Combat: [Perfect] – “Hit them head on!” The first doctrine and likely the worst taught to Kiristoff it nonetheless served its purpose granting him, perhaps due to his physiology, great capabilities in close quarters combat.

Armed Combat: [Perfect] – “What good is a soldier with no sword?” It was a question asked hundreds of time to Kristoff as he was easily disarmed. Eventually he was more adept with a sword in hand than without one.

Magic Combat: [Nonexistent] – A mage that can cast no magic is useless.

Mounted Combat: [Above Average] – Attributed mostly to his equipment and mount Kristoff is adept atop Vazwi. He has vast reach, a horrendously strong mount, and lies out of reach of nearly everything but spears.

Racial Abilities
Inspire Fear: [Above Average] – To both his shape and presence it’s compelling to fear Kristoff to some degree. This is at its strongest in battle.

Fire Resistance: [Average] – A minor resistance to fire granted from his demonic decent this ability rarely arises other than when the champion is forced to cook.

Natural Talent
War has been a natural talent of the soldier for years. With such significant size and strength there was nothing else Kristoff was fit for. His strength, weight, size, even appearance, all make him an excellent warrior and terrifying opponent.

Class Skills
Impenetrable Defense: [Excellent] – As some warriors can go berserk and cause vast damage Kristoff has reserved to attain a state of perfect defense for a short time. All but the strongest of blows are parried or blocked,

Rally: [Average] – Perhaps not the best at motivating men Kristoff still retains a commendable ability to rally men to his side for due cause.

Shield Mastery: [Excellent] – A strong defense can not only be granted to a man who can deflect blows, he must also be capable of stopping them where they land. The best instrument to do this is the shield which Kristoff wields as both a weapon and guard quite well.

Spells/Powers
None.


EQUIPMENT

Items
Nothing.

Memorabilia
Nothing.

Accessories
Nothing.

Weapon
Weapon Name:
Weapon Type: Great arming sword.
Material: Greater dragon bone.
Ammo: N/A
Length: 51” / 129.5cm
Weight: 37lbs / 17Kg
Weapon Description/Info: Said to have been born when the thigh bone of a greater dragon was split the sword certainly seems to fit the characteristics. The blade is naturally hot and cannot be mended unless heated by the breath of a greater dragon. Fire, whether natural or magical (within reason) is absorbed by the weapon. It’s also extremely heavy and befitting only a warrior of superb strength. As for the actual aesthetics, the sword is very similar to an arming sword with a deep fuller to collect blood and designed to operate one handed.

Weapon Name: Champion’s Aspis
Weapon Type: Hoplon shield
Material: Steel plating over linden wood.
Ammo: N/A
Length: Diameter of 43 Œ” / 110cm
Weight: 11.3lbs / 5.1Kg
Weapon Description/Info: A large circular hoplon shield made of linden wood which is both lightweight and bends around blades that break the edge and cut into the sword. A sheet of steel on the outer edge adds a reasonable defense to slashes and cuts.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
N/A

Faction
The Holy Kingdom of Azrael

Marital Status
Single

Relatives
Unsure of their whereabouts or status.

Origin
Iceloch Village

Social Rank
Knight

Occupation
Master of security and defense.

Blood Pact
The Blood Pact Contract


Argreth, Burning Sentinel of Guerris, henceforth to be reffered to as Argreth, and Kristoff Deamhar, of the township of Iceloch of Earth, henceforth referred to as Kristoff, set forth their Eldritch Contract as follows:

Clause the First:
    Argreth shall bestow the full might of his person onto Kristoff to serve his desires.

Clause the Second:
    In return, Argreth shall be granted a corporeal form in the realm of Earth.

Clause the Third:
    Bound by blood neither of the contractors may slay the other.

Clause the Fourth:
    If Argreth is slain a new form must be granted or his powers revoked; if Kristoff is slain Argreth shall be returned to the Eldritch realm he previously inhabited.

Argreth Kristoff Deamhar


Bio/History
They say the oldest profession still alive is prostitution. While it may indeed have held roots back since man was born, so to have warriors. Birthed in the cold of Iceloch amid a small shack dimly lit by oil lamps and candles Kristoff was named after his father, a man he never met. He was born far larger than most baby humans, let alone what hellborn people had seen birthed. Already he was a disfigured child, horrendous enough to be cast away. Yet, some people will always take pity on the less fortunate, Kristoff was simply fortunate he was pitied.

Adopted by a cynical old man he was thrown into a slum with other boys. There they commonly avoided him, angering him and driving him to fight them for no sound reason. This bred hatred among the boys and soon violence was a daily ritual that turned a young hellborn into a dedicated fighter.

Yet it was hardly enough for such a power hungry person to be cast off as a mear hoodlum. Thus he was lead to Wolfeil and The Arena. There he sought honor, and more importantly fame, as he murdered his way through the ranks quite literally until finally, he caught the attention of the God King Azrael. Taken as a champion of the God King at the age of 37 Kristoff had finally reached a pivotal point in his life. He needn’t climb any higher along the social ladder, he was fit to serve as the champion to whom many revered as the most powerful man alive.


MOUNT


AppearanceImage
Hair:None.
Eyes:Solid sky blue elliptical eyes with no apparent iris or pupils.
Build:Athletically built bordering slightly on the heavy side; considered large but not unusually so.
Height:At shoulder this monster has nearly three meters of height. It’s length is more than ten times that and the wingspan double its length.
Weight:The great wyvern weighs shy of three thousand kilograms.
Body Markings:
Scar Tissue:Many scars from a well lived life are amid this drakes body. None demonstrate any serious damage to his body though.

Name
Vazwi

Nickname
Vazwi

Race
Wyvern – Bone head

Age
Thirty five years

Gender
Male

Abilities
Flight – A task simple to nearly all wyverns it comes with slightly more difficult to the bone head classification as their heavy head causes them to bank downwards often. However they remain skilled and very aggressive flyers.

Venomous Bite – Unlike dragons who have the capability to breath fire, acid and other elements wyverns have lost this ability. Instead many have adopted venom as their primary weapon and the bone head foster a fierce neurological poison that attacks the nervous system. Exposure to this venom through blood stream will incite seizures and sometimes hallucinations. Oral exposure commonly causes vomiting and feverish symptoms, but is extremely unlikely to kill.

Skills
Aerial Dive – A hunting tactic that bone heads have been noted to use only for the greatest game. Gaining altitude the wyvern will cock its head backwards when ready launching itself into a dive. The body streamlines and the creature falls at dazzling speeds until, Crack its skull strikes the game breaking bone.

Minor Draconic Tongue – Odd it may be that a wyvern chooses to learn dragon tongue, but with the master having sought to study it as well the steed followed happily. Speech is difficult, but can transcend physical limitations and be heard from a distance shy of a hundred meters even when whispered.

Equipment
Armour never adorns the wyvern, even in times of war. Instead it can through dietary change being to form bone platelets along the underbelly and back. This could have bothered the saddle and bindings on its back had it measures not be taken. Already platelets secure the saddle to the back of the dragon in a permanent bond. The binds act only as a harness for the rider.

Accessories
Although there are no specific accessories adorning the wyvern it bolsters a significant treasury of gold in its name which acts as den to the greedy bone head.

Bio/History
A wyvern whose head is encased in bone has no real history to care for, the same as that of any wyvern. They are known as being beasts of prey, comparable to immense hawks or falcons, and are rarely consider as mounts particularly because they’re very hard to raise. Nonetheless this one was raised since a young age when Kristoff found it among his experiences in Wolfeil.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Solo Wing Pixy on Mon Aug 22, 2011 10:59 pm

Joshua Foulke : The Artist
Image
"From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity."


PHYSICALITY

Description
Joshua is on the short end of the scale for human males, but he never minded. It makes sneaking around and fighting larger opponents much easier. His skin is lightly pale, from more time inside and in the dark than out, and his hair is as black as night. His build is nothing special, but rather well rounded with a focus on speed. One could best describe him as lean. His eyes are a muddy dark brown, good for blending with the crowd. Some might say he's a handsome man, and he would agree, but there are better looking guys out there. His face is gentle, but has the capacity to be hard and cold, and his hair obscures his eyes just a bit.

The way he walks is a thick mixture of confidence, caution, and stealth. He always seems to have a purpose in his step, but at the same time he seems quite wary of his surroundings. He steps lightly, by habit, and even when he doesn't try to be quiet, he is. He never expends his energy foolishly, though, unless specifically being recreational. Even then, he saves a bulk of his energy if he needs to suddenly fight or run. Every movement he makes has a purpose and he is nearly always doing something.

Appearance
Hair: Short, straight, and pitch black
Facial Hair: None
Eyes: Dark Brown
Build: Lithe, athletic, and lean. Stereotypical for his profession.
Skin Tone: Slightly pale
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 156lbs
Voice: Calm and collected. Confident, and with a hint of sarcasm.
Handed: Ambidextrous
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: He has a large X scar across his chest, and several scars across both wrists.
Unique Body Features: None

Name
Joshua Foulke

Nickname
Night Fox
The Artist

Title
The Artist

Race
Human

Visual Age
23-25

Factual Age
254(Through extending his life via Tyrfang)

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Class
Rogue

Specialization
Assassin


MENTALITY

Personality
Joshua Foulke is a piece of work. On one hand, he can be as cold as the steel he wields, operating for the money or the joy of killing. On the other hand, he seems to be working for a cause, and actually caring about what happens to the world. He calls himself a hypocrite, saying that what's best isn't always a static value and that it's always changing. When dealing with people, he'd like them to think he was heartless and carefree, because a mental defense is just as important as a physical one.

Long ago, he swore not to love again, but as hard as he tries, he is just as prone to falling for the cute girl as the next guy. His advantage, however, is his ability to hide those feelings, from others and himself. Even though he'll claim not to care for someone, he'll often fight for free to protect them.

His demeanor is generally roguish and witty. Why be any different if you know you can kill every guard in the room before they can draw their weapons? He's good and he knows it. While he doesn't showboat too much, he's not above the witty comeback. Even when speaking with royalty, he doesn't lose his casual tone, though he'll speak a little more seriously, he won't be any more respectful. That's not to say he lacks respect, he just speaks casually, even to kings. He's adept at hiding fear too, since sometimes even he get's scared. He knows that in some situations, you simply can't show fear, and has learned to mask it very well. Sometimes though, hiding his fear turns into foolhardy, stubborn courage, and he can get into situations that are hard to get out of.

Despite all this, he is a smart man who is easily likable and very personable, even if he's not to keen on forming close relationships. That attributes to his profession too, as he is quite a proficient actor and liar.

Quirks
-When dealing with locks(that he's not picking) he tends to lock or unlock them twice. I.E. Lock, Unlock, Lock, or vice versa.
-He rubs his thumb and forefingers together to relieve anxiety, and he does this so much, he almost hits himself like it's a bad habit.
-He sharpens Tyrfang even though it never needs maintenance to stay sharp.
-He doesn't like to swear and gets slightly uncomfortable if others do, though he never lets them know.
-He has a tendency to state questions, which can get annoying.

Moral Alignment
Chaotic Neutral

Virtue/Creed


Motivation
Money, Life, curing boredom.
Those are the center and immediate goals of his, but they are not the only ones. He has an underlying, long term motivation. Throughout his two and a half centuries of life, he's learned of the existence of other such magical artifacts. He's learned of all manner of powerful items, and aims to obtain them all. But finding them is not easy. He knows the location of only one, and is not in a position to fetch it yet.

Fears
Death - No living soul knows Death like Joshua Foulke, and he is intent on making sure he doesn't get to know her more intimately.

Goal
To enjoy life. Primarily he works for the goal of his employer, but when it comes down to it, he'll stick to his own agenda of keeping the world fresh and exciting.

Likes
Money - Joshua gets paid well. Very well, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Excitement - Sometimes life just gets too boring. When that happens, Joshua introduces a little death to spice things up.
Weapons - Joshua likes to learn every curve of the weapons he uses. An artist needs to know his tools, yes?
Killing - Killing is an art, and Joshua styles himself the best artist.

Dislikes
Losing - Joshua trained tirelessly under his master. To lose now feels as if all the training was useless.
Forced to do anything - While Joshua follows the rules of his contract, he likes being free to accept or decline at any time.

Strengths
Combat Prowess - Joshua is a master at one-on-one combat. He wears little or no armor because he doesn't need it, as most of his opponents can't even hit him, if they survive his first strike.
Stealth - Even thieves envy his abilities in stealth. He knows how to blend with the shadows and the dark, how to move without a sound, and is proficient in many disguises.
Agility - No one denies his speed and reflexes, which are both as legendary as he is. There are stories of him being able to cut arrows from the air, and dodge firearm projectiles.

Weaknesses
Lightweight - Being so quick comes with a price: a heavy blow that connects easily knocks him about.
Stubborn - Stubbornness has nearly cost him his life more than once. He taunts death so often, he can barely tell if he's taking it too far.
Mortality - Tyrfang only prevents him from aging; a blade is a blade though, and a sword in the heart or a sliced throat and he's just as dead as the next man.


ARMAMENT

Assassin's gray's When on a mission, Joshua prefers to wear these. Mostly tight fitting, but not to impede movement, these clothes are comfortable and quiet. They are colored a mottled dark grey and black, as solid black doesn't blend as well. A hood is not included, because it impedes hearing.

Disguises From a beggar to a nobleman, Joshua has just about every "in" style in his wardrobe. Sometimes, it's just not practical to be walking around in assassin's gear.

Everyday clothing When in his home or in private, Joshua prefers comfortable clothes that let him live freely. When he absolutely needs to go out, he wears Commons clothes, so as to not draw attention.


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
[Excellent] - Sometimes, you just don't have a weapon, and flailing his fists blindly is neither efficient or Joshua's style.

Melee Combat
[Perfect] - With a weapon in his hands, even blinking in a fight with Joshua is a fatal mistake.

Ranged Combat:
[Perfect] - Joshua is one of the worlds best shot's with a bow or crossbow, but guns aren't really his thing. Mainly, they make too much noise and aren't as reliable.

Magic Combat:
[Poor] - A little oomph behind a kick or a strike here and there, or a bit of magical aid in hiding, but it's not something he relies on. He prefers silent, quick steel to end a life than flashy magic.

Mounted Combat:
Average - He's no jousting champion, but he's no flailing idiot either. Most of his "mounted" combat involves a dismount anyway.

Racial Abilities

Luck - Good - "Nine times of ten? Ha! Never tell me the odds!"

Natural Talent

Reflexes - Excellent - Joshua has an innate affinity for reaction. He rivals master thieves in this respect.

Charm - Excellent - Who isn't charmed by a dashing rogue? Joshua fits the witty and charming rogue stereotype nicely.

Quick Wit - Excellent -Whether speaking to a king or making split decisions mid-combat, a man in this profession needs to have a quick wit and a quicker mind.

Class Skills

Exploit Weakness - Excellent Every defense has holes, and in his 230 years as a master assassin, he's learned how to spot and use every one of them.

Fear - Good - Not many men can stare death in the face and not wet themselves. Facing Joshua in his killing mood is somewhat like that.

Sneak Attack - Excellent - A dagger you don't see coming is ten fold more dangerous, and even more so in the hands of someone who knows where to cut.

Stealth - Excellent - During his exceptionally long life, he's learned to be nearly as proficient in stealth as master thieves. While he can't be invisible, he can certainly come close to it, and in a dark room, that's just as good.




EQUIPMENT

Items
Various poisons of varying strength. Some kill instantly, some painfully, others only immobilize. He also carries antidotes for all of them.
Alcohol for sterilizing wounds, and materials to bind them.
Enough money to keep comfortable.
Memorabilia
A note from the creator of Tyrfang.

Weapon
Weapon Name: Tyrfang
Weapon Type: Shortsword
Material: Arcane Metals
Ammo: N/A
Length: 2.5ft blade, 6in handle
Weight: Weighted perfectly for whoever uses it.
Weapon Description/Info: Tyrfang, or Tyrfang the Lifestealer, is a powerful magic sword crafted by a long dead blacksmith. The man died upon completing the sword, and Joshua inherited it as a gift. It extends the life of the wielder with each kill. Every second of life a victim has lived, Tyrfang transfers to it's master, who doesn't age for that amount. Joshua has accumulated quite a many years of life with Tyrfang, but he can't stop. If he goes to long without feeding the blade, he starts to lose his time faster, and will eventually begin to age again.

Tyrfang has a two and a half foot blade, made from arcane metals stained as black as the night. It's name is engraved on the black handle in light silver strip. The blade itself is double edged and either doesn't or can't dull with wear. When drawn, the blade seems to suck in the light around it. It always seems slick with blood, but whenever it is stained, dew rises from microscopic slits to clean it.

Weapon Name: Night
Weapon Type: Offhand Short sword
Material: Steel
Ammo: N/A
Length: 2ft
Weight: 4lbs
Weapon Description/Info: Lightweight offhand short sword, often used in combination with Tyrfang. The blade is stained black and is kept razor sharp by Joshua. This has been the sword that belonged to Raven, the assassin he killed for his Master's work. He's currently looking to bind an Eldritch to it to make it an artifact.

Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Concealed Crossbow
Material: Oak and Steel
Ammo: Steel Bolts
Length: .75ft
Weight: 2lbs
Weapon Description/Info: A standard concealable crossbow. Wrist mounted and loaded with a poison tipped bolt.

Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Half Sword
Material: Steel
Ammo: N/A
Length: 1ft blade, 5in handle.
Weight: 3lbs
Weapon Description/Info: An easily, concealed blade, Joshua prefers this for it's dual purpose as a sword and a knife.

Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Throwing Knives
Material: Steel
Ammo: Steel Knives
Length: 6 inches.
Weight: .25lbs
Weapon Description/Info: Weighted throwing knives, sharp enough to pierce through hardened leather. Joshua likes these for their size, making them easy to conceal, and their efficiency.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
None

Faction
Grand Union of You - Joshua works for both sides, but he's yet to take a contract that would put an end to the fighting. When it comes down to it, he wants to keep things fun, and profitable. So the longer the war runs, the more fun he can have and the more money he can make.

Marital Status
Single, never married.

Relatives
All deceased.

Origin
Ashmere - Wolfeil

Residence
Several Safe-houses throughout Illumine and Wolfeil
A small mansion in Illumine.

Social Rank
Criminal, Assassin, Mercenary, Yeoman.

Occupation
Assassin

Blood Pact
None

Bio/History
Joshua Foulke wasn't always the assassin known as The Artist, but he has been for so long, his life before is hardly worth mentioning. He was the son of a whore and an unknown John, and he was abused throughout his early childhood. He claims to take after his father, as his mother was never very talented at anything but whoring. When he was 8, he ran away, and went from living in the smallest shack, to fighting with other children to live in the biggest alley. It was here he learned his street skills. At 12, he was hand-picked by Wolfeil's best and eldest assassin, who was keen to pass his knowledge to an apprentice before he died.

For ten years, his master trained him, working him hard to be the best of the best. Nearly all of his skills as an assassin come from this man. After all, you don't live long as an assassin for nothing. At long last, his master died, but not before giving him a final test; a masters work to complete his training. There was another assassin, trained by the second best killer in all the city, and Joshua was tasked with killing her. He found for the first time in his whole life of actually caring for someone when he met the girl. They both knew they had to fight, and they both knew Joshua would win, but it broke his heart to pierce hers, and from then on he swore he'd never love.

Some time recently after this, Joshua came in possession of the sword Tyrfang, and has been it's only master. The sword, feeding off of the life force of it's kills, was able to extend Joshua's life beyond that of his masters, and over time, became the most feared and respected assassin in Wolfeil. He's had little need to disguise his identity, as most people nowadays don't remember why Joshua Foulke is the best, just that he is. The people that do know the legend though, just assume that Joshua trained an apprentice before he died, and the apprentice took his name, thus keeping The Artist alive for more than 200 years. How wrong they are.

Most people know The Artist, but few could recognize him, and even those few would be put off with the disguises he wears. He signs each kill though, like an artist on a painting. He takes jobs for anyone with the right price, but even he is picky. He won't take a job if it wouldn't be fun, and he won't take jobs of needless slaughter. Sometimes, he'd take a job just to prove a point, and he'd decline one for the very same reason. Now he's prepared to actively start hunting artifacts like Tyrfang, and though he knows legends of many, he knows the location of just one.

Joshua's reason for wanting all these artifacts is simple. While he doesn't age, he can still die. He wants to find a way to become invincible, or at least immortal, and he is only just beginning his search. The one other artifact he knows where to find is The Dulled Blade, a dull sword from nearly 1500 years before. From what he's read, simply holding the sword or wearing it on your person grants an immunity to all manner of blades. Joshua is determined to fetch it as soon as he is able.

.
Last edited by Solo Wing Pixy on Tue Aug 23, 2011 5:28 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Image
We drink to him as comrade must
But it's still the same old story
A coward goes from dust to dust
A hero from dust to glory.

Modesty wrote:Where originality comes in is finding new ways to explore the things that already exist to us. Suddenly red becomes crimson, ruby, scarlet, cherry, carnelian, vermilion, cardinal, sienna, maroon, sorrel, rojo, sanguine. Suddenly red can become a metaphor, a picture, a symbol.


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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Maestro on Tue Aug 23, 2011 3:09 am

Galizur: The Forsaken
Image
"We all have a destiny..."


PHYSICALITY

Description
Unexpected of a Fey, he isn’t short but definitely doesn’t have a warriors build or vigor. With eyes that have beheld great travesties, he appears as a man whose wisdom stretches well beyond his years. Skin as smooth as the day he was born, he is the embodiment of elegance, a true messiah. Ears spritely and hair flowing with a mind of its own, Galizur could almost be considered too perfect.

Appearance
Hair: Flowing passed his shoulders and cascading down his back, locks carve his face flawlessly. Given life of its own, the swirling bits of blue and green are ever-changing.
Facial Hair: None
Eyes: Full of sorrow and pitted rage, his eyes are those of a man on a mission with little to lose. While seemingly void of life, hope still prevails, a piercing purple light managing to sift through the chaos and fight its way to the surface.
Build: Tending to use brains over bronze, his magical and intellectual prowess surpasses anything mere body mass could accomplish. Very lean and agile, he is small but deadly.
Skin Tone: Teal
Height: 5'6 ft
Weight: 140 lbs
Voice: Soft and pristine, he has a voice that could make the angels sing.
Handed: Left
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: None
Unique Body Features: None

Name
Galizur Oberon Mikel

Nickname
Fairy Boy

Title
The Forsaken

Race
Fey

Visual Age
20

Factual Age
Unknown

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Mage Ranking
None

Class
Priest

Specialization
Druid



MENTALITY

Personality
Calm and reserved when even the hounds of hell come knocking at his door, Galizur fears little, not even the God King. A very peaceful creature, he looks to return order to the world by whatever means (even if that includes self-sacrifice). Using his bountiful intellect and wisdom, he is cunning as he is sly.

Quirks
Normally as quiet as a mouse, he is sometimes caught talking to himself, mumbling under his breath. And even Galizur can be pushed over the edge; if you anger him, be prepared to accept the consequences.

Moral Alignment
Neutral Good

Virtue/Creed
If he holds anything as close as his wife, he believes a strong balance in the world is necessary to bring peace and prosperity. Wanting freedom and happiness for his people, he governs over nature with firm ideals that it has the right to the world, not this self-proclaimed God King.

Motivation
There is nothing stronger than fear of living to see the world burn at the hands of a tyrant.

Fears
As stated above, his worst fear is watching all that he loves be ultimately destroyed by a man who calls himself a god. With the balance of the world at stake, he strongly believes that nature should inherit the Earth.

Goal
For over three decades it was the preservation of the Fey, but now his voice is a beacon of light for those looking to dethrone the God King.

Likes
Attuned to nature, he holds love for everything sacred from the plants to every creature that inhabits the Earth.

Dislikes
Senseless killing and violence has never been the way of the Fey; throughout history, they have always stepped out from the affairs of man. Anyone who threatens Mother Nature will only look to make the Fey their enemy.

Strengths
He is at home in the trees, surrounded by nature and its endless majesties

Weaknesses
The heart weighs heavy on a man’s shoulder; he would give his wife the world if she but asked.



ARMAMENT

Head
A single crown sits atop his head, symbol of his authority and grave responsibility. Passed through generations of his family, it is said that the crown dates back to the beginning of Fey and gives the wearer sole power over nature and its attributes. Through stories, the Fey believe that the gem resting on the crown is a seed from the Tree of Life.

Clothing/Armor
Attired in only the finest lightweight robes, while allowing him to remain agile, it is also imbued with magical properties – primarily defensive. As strong as steel, and not even a fourth the weight, it further makes Galizur a force to be reckoned with.



COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
[Good] Hand-to-Hand Combat:
Skilled using evasive tactics, he is nonetheless proficient in turning his body against his opponents.

[Below Average] Melee Combat:
While Humans, Orcs, and various other races raise their young as warriors, the Fey are taught to respect the value of life. Not completely inexperienced in the arts, he will normally resort to finding a peaceful solution before using a weapon.

[Very Poor] Armed Combat:
Considered to be a last resort in the heat of battle, the Fey are not accustomed to creating machines of war no more than they are using them.

[Perfect] Magic Combat:
Although he has not harnessed the full extent of magic, he does have a natural affinity with nature and all of its elements. Whether it’s bending the leaves and vines or turning a seed into a bud, he has full control over his environment which makes him a deadly opponent. He can also commune with the animals, giving him eyes in all corners of the world.

[Perfect] Mounted Combat:
His ability to communicate with both creatures big and small gives him an advantage in mounted combat; able to form unbreakable bonds with his companion.

Racial Abilities
As a Fey, he can freely manipulate nature, willing it to do his bidding.

Natural Talent
Regardless of his poor swordsmanship or melee combat, he is a master with a spear, using it to bolster his defenses. With both bountiful intellect and wisdom on his side, he is considered an experienced tactician and negotiator.

Class Skills
One of the few to understand and speak Sylvan as well as Drudic, he can converse with animals and even transform into them at will.

Spells/Powers
Versed in a variety of magic, he finds that defense is the best offense.



EQUIPMENT

Items
None

Memorabilia
None

Accessories
None

Weapon
Weapon Name: Nature's Vengeance
Weapon Type: Spear
Material: Ash Wood and Steel
Ammo: None
Length: 72"
Weight: 5 lbs
Weapon Description/Info:
Crafted from the Ash tree, the spear is made to be light and easily maneuvered, while the blade is forged of steel, and guaranteed to decimate even the toughest adversaries.

Weapon Name: Star of Venus
Weapon Type: Dagger
Material: Maple Wood and Steel
Ammo: N/A
Length: 14"
Weight: 1.5 lbs
Weapon Description/Info:
Another lightweight piece of equipment and perfectly balanced, it is ideal in both ranged and close combat.



BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
His allegiances lie first and foremost with the Fey; as a king of the people, he serves their best interests and looks only to protect them from a world at war.

Faction
The Rebellion Force

Marital Status
Queen Mireille

Relatives
None

Origin
Not much is known of the origin of Fey; some speculate they are born out of nature itself. Other myths follow they are aliens living in another world beyond our own.

Social Rank
King

Occupation
Ruler

Blood Pact
None

Bio/History
After the rise of the God King Azrael, Galizur completely removed the Fey from the psychical plain of existence, ignoring the outside world and refusing to partake in one man's dream of total conquest. For near 30 years, the race had become popular myth, a story that parents told their children before bed; but the truth of the matter is, the Fey have returned to take their place in history. It is said a secret is buried beneath the lost city they call home, one so powerful that it could change the very course of history... and the fate of the God King.



Mount

Image


Appearance
Hair: Adorned in a velvety, rustic brown coat, a thick mane runs the course of her chest, thinning out along her body.
Eyes: A fire blazes uncontrollably beneath her golden-brown embers, one of determination and ambition.
Build: Don’t be fooled by her lean and sleek figure; a powerful mammal, she is built of raw muscle and liable to trample you no less than she would be to coddle.
Height: 4'0 ft
Weight: 270 lbs
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: None

Name
Sayge

Nickname
--

Race
Griffin

Age
30 Yrs.

Gender
Female

Abilities
None

Skills
An agile and resourceful animal, Sayge relies on her swift wits and cunning nature in order to survive.

Equipment
A wild and free creature, she carries no more than the feathers on her back.

Accessories
Untamable as the wind, her rider resorts to bareback.

Bio/History
One of the rarer species found in Cam Lire, Sayge is a truly majestic and rare sight to be sure. Raised from a cub, she has been Galizur’s most trustworthy and loyal companion since the day she was born – always seen lurking in his shadow.
Last edited by Maestro on Fri Sep 09, 2011 2:15 am, edited 13 times in total.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby That One Guy on Tue Aug 23, 2011 10:51 am

Iphigenia Wynter : Eldest Child of God, Princess Iphigenia
Image
"The God King Doth Not Bleed, His Children Doth Not Weep."


PHYSICALITY

Description
Ah, the Princess. Her skin makes the moon jealous, her lips pale the beauty of a rose, and her silken hair surely rivals a waterfall. She lithe body is willow like and yet endowed in all the right places, she is a sight to behold. It is entirely believable that she of all people are a child of God.

To be specific, Iphigenia has porcelain skin, soft as a babe’s, pale and smooth lips, and long black hair, as it runs in the family. Her statue-like body looks fragile, as if to break if you were to squeeze her too much, but surprisingly sturdy all things considered. The windows to her soul are a misty green, beautiful, but mysterious and secretive. Her features are dainty and her eyes wide, while her long brows clearly etch her expressions and compliment her heart-face. Her arms are thin, and her hands have long spidery fingers, gentle ones filled with warmth. As stated before, she is a sight to behold.

Appearance
Hair:
Black
Facial Hair:
none
Eyes:
Seawater Green, a murky shade that hides everything from her feelings to her intent.
Build:
Not even a slight bit of muscle, and hardly any fat to be seen; Genia is curvaceous, but built as a doll to stand on a pedestal and be looked at, rather than to fight. Her legs are quite long and thin in proportion to her body
Skin Tone:
As pale as winter, as soft as silk.
Height:
5’5”
Weight:
110 lbs
Voice:
Smooth velvet tones that do not sound loud even when she raises her voice. It is the practiced voice of a singer, and few rival her talent.
Handed:
Right handed
Body Markings:

Scar Tissue:
What is this? A flaw on our highness’ perfect skin? Yes, her right eye has a thin slashing scar, it reaches from her brow to her upper cheekbone. She often wears a flower-patch to cover it.
Unique Body Features:
Rather, an (un)unique feature, she is told very often that she closely resembles her father, in everything but the colour of her eyes. She is the only one of his children with his black hair, and if any were to know what The God King's mother looked like, Iphigenia would be her spitting image

Name
Iphigenia Wynter

Nickname
Iphi
Princess
‘Child of God’-to the people

Title
Eldest Child of God, Princess Iphigenia

Race
Human

Visual Age
19-20

Factual Age
23

Gender
Female

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Mage Ranking
Adept

Class
Mage

Specialization
Wizard (Conjurer, Healing)


MENTALITY

Personality
A Princess bred true, she moves and acts with ease, decides with the same grace her voice holds, and accommodates to even the toughest situation. When seeing her sisters, one might think to judge Iphi in the same way one would judge them. The lot of them are spoiled and whinny, obsessed with material and acquiring good favour with the king, which they sadly do not always come by due to the king’s dislike of complaints and disrespect. They believe that it is their birth right as a child of a god for them to be something similar. Very few of them understand that the God King got his power through earning it, and it is no birth right of theirs to be anywhere near the level of his power. But Iphigenia knows this well already, and does not bother explaining to them. One would think Iphigenia to be akin to her lavish sisters, but that is not the case.

Instead, Iphigenia strives to be perfect, her mother strives even more than she, and she is barely noted in anyone’s mind. More than perfect is what Iphigenia must be, she must be useful, she must become an asset. Though this desire to be useful is directed to her people rather than to her father, to whom she holds complicated feelings towards. She cares deeply for her people, and when they are slighted so is her heart. Executions are barely bearable for Iphigenia, and she must pretend she does not see what is going on at all in order to keep from crying out. A Princess must never cry out, and the backbone of her people must never shed a tear. She believes that if she does shed a tear, then it would betray everything, and let some unspeakable force win in some way.

Iphigenia, for all of her respectful actions and compliance, fully believes that her father must die in order to restore peace amongst the people. She knows his intention must have been good, but his actions were evil, and his judgment poor in her opinion. If the problem of quelling the sense of intense guilt she has for her father’s existence were a simple sacrifice of her body, she would do it in a heartbeat. But she fears and respects him at the same time. Her mouth is tightly shut, never to speak out against him, all for fear of disrespect. She views this as selfish, and harbours guilt for this as well. Her behaviour for conflicting feelings can be erratic, but everyone simple assumes she has some sort of ‘plan’, and is acting in such a way to carry it out.

There is no class for her kind, a player of stale chess, intelligence held at bay to strike at odd intervals. Foolish behaviour when the individual is quite wise, this can be nothing short of a courtesan; someone able enough to play the game, someone able to fake it; a politician can also come to mind, a peacemaker when she's allowed to be. Her way of 'fighting' is not physical or magical at all most of the time; it is entirely played in the mind. She holds a wide capacity in her mind; it is a quick and thorough piece of work. And she utilizes it with mastery level skill when she brings herself to do it.

But the intelligent are often left at the end of the day to brood, and she broods quite a bit. Guilt, sorrow, the depression, it grips her and not often do any see the reserved Princess smile light heartedly, or smile at all.

Quirks
Does not smile very often at all.

Stays completely still when not moving (as in walking)

Is matched by none other than the King himself in Chess.

Is extremely strong willed.

Moral Alignment
Neutral Good

Virtue/Creed
She is virtuous yes, her selfless endeavour leads her to be as patient or as understanding as need be. She is a peaceful creature and does not enjoy violence. She seeks to stop the tyrannical reign of God King Azreal, and return the land to its former glory, ending its pain.

Motivation
Fear, her people, her duty as Princess and a human. She has many motivators.

Fears
Her father, and her people dying. Executions are particularly difficult for her. She is beginning to fear her brother Azul too, and she fears Connell (her half brother) will be hurt in some way.

Goal
She seeks to stop the tyrannical reign of God King Azreal, and return the land to its former glory, ending its pain. She also seeks to apologize to her people for it, and to the other races involved.

Likes
Reading
Chess
Children
Birds
Music
Singing
Riding occasionally
Seeing her Half brother Connell


Dislikes
Violence
Injustice
Executions
Her situation


Strengths
Iphigenia's main strength is her mind, with it she knows she can prevail. She just needs to shake off her cowardess and act.

Magic, as inherited from her father, is also a strength of hers.

Her sheer will keeps most symptoms at bay in regards to effects of using magic, and it also helps that she does not use it often.


Weaknesses
Iphigenia has succumbed to one of the effects of using magic, her wounds will not heal through normal means. She is not aware of it, but she is starting to suspect due to the recent injury to her eye not healing at all after a week, it has barely started to scab over.

Physically, Iphigenia poses no threat. And her body is not the toughest; she has never been good it came to something physical.


ARMAMENT

Right Hand
Her glove’s palm holds her foci, an emerald. It acts as a shield in great cases of need.


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat: [Very Poor][/b]- Iphigenia does not partake in combat, strictly in healing and one shield spell.

Magic Combat: [Excellent][/b]- It is only one spell, but she chose it because of her long hours into making it a simple one to use, and elevate its power. However, using it drains her considerably. But is a damn good spell. She is up to using it three times in one day, any more and she passes out.

Natural Talent[Excellent][/b]- She inherits much magical ability from her father.
Skills
Politician [Good]- She is used to politics, and due to her intelligence she can deal with them efficiently, however she does not care for them.

Charity [Excellent]- Most of her work is charity work, and so it gains her the gratitude of her people.

Tactician [Excellent]- All of those times sitting in on the war meetings, did you think she'd remain idle?

Horseback Riding [Below Average]- She was never very good at anything physical, but is decent. Better than not knowing how

Class Skills [Excellent][/b]- She is quite adept at healing and making soothing potions, she is also skilled with simple charms, such as scrying.

Spells/Powers
Sheild [Excellent]- Now made the easiest spell for her to cast, also a dangerous one for her well being. A rune has been painted on her right hand glove, all of her right hand gloves have this symbol now, that creates an easier way to cast the spell. Her foci is an emerald opal embedded into the center of each right handed glove's palm, both making the casting of the spell further simpler, and enhancing it. Only the single word 'shield' and the somatic motion of holding her arm straight out, palm facing up enacts the spell now. The problem lies in how quickly it drains her. She can hold it for only four minutes at a time, and afterwards she will faint.

This spell is a special shield, it’s arrows are visible, and shoot the attacking, mirroring it in whichever the particular arrows points, she may choose the direction, hope the arrow doesn’t point at you.

Heal Detect [Perfect]- Detects what is wrong with the body, afflicted parts of the body glow, and she can feel the glow to know what is wrong.

Speeding Cells [Excellent]- This speeds up the process of your cells regenerating, thus healing you using her own or your own energy, even evergy from the surroundings. This can also replenish the energy of the patient through the same means.

Minor Healing Spells [Perfect]- Simple and easy to use, though precise, and no joking matter.



EQUIPMENT

Items
Right handed glove and some sort of patch for her right eye.


Accessories
Any womanly accessories she may like.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
Royal Family

Faction
The Rebellion Force, though no one but her knows, which does the actual rebellion little good.

Marital Status
Single, soon to be engaged however, a plan is being set in motion you see.

Relatives
Azreal- God King
Azul- Next in line for the throne, her younger brother
Connell Dounaghy- Her half brother, she loves him dearly.
Nimea- Her mother, a shell of a woman.
Various little siblings- quite spoiled and bratty, they play pranks all day in the castle

Origin
?

Social Rank
Princess of Azreal

Occupation
She acts as a voice of the people, the one in charge of making sure they are happy and well off. She has raised three orphanages, makes sure they are maintained, sends food out to the hungry, builds and repairs are coordinated by her at times, and she gives speeches (ones delivered with her beautiful voice, but ones that feel like poison to her). She has also on occasion acted as a representative to another region. She sits in on meetings with Generals at times, but she has yet to ever speak during one. Mostly she is involved with the commoners and their well-being. She is the pretty face they may smile at.

Bio/History
In order to understand the situation Iphigenia is in, you must first understand her mother, the Queen; or rather the Ghost that calls herself Queen.

Mirella is her name, and her beginnings were perilous. She herself was of noble blood before marriage to the husband who calls himself a God; Mirella was the Princess of the family Azrael slaughtered. But in those moments when her own fate was to be decided, she played her cards right, and took a bet on her looks. Stunning as she was of course, Azrael took her as his wife. Yet even then she felt her position unsecured, for he took many women besides her to his bed. Silent paranoia took hold of her psyche early on, on she strove to treat the God King as the most wonderful and important person in the entire world. She was so earnest; she began to believe that he really was a God, the only God she would ever worship.

Mirella worked hard, dancing on tip toe in a grand play, reading every breath on her husband’s mouth, every twitch he made no matter how small, and acted accordingly to how he would best wish. But she could not keep herself as his only bed mate, so she instead became pregnant with his child. The first being a girl, a disappointment, mostly in her own mind, and then a boy; this worked to keep her husband’s interest for only a short time. Though that time she describes as the happiest moments of her life; it lasted for about four years before she was yet again gone from his mind.

She had another child, and another, but each successive one interested the King less and less. And so she gave up finally, fully spent and worn out. The Queen’s still sharp mind is often left blank, and she appears to be a blank person herself, wearing black and looking pallid. The Queen is nothing but a ghost of her former youthful self, and she silently does busy work in the back round. She organizes parties, keeps the palace dĂ©cor up to date, and sits silently staring out of the window in the book room.


Iphigenia and her direct younger brother were both raised in a similar manner. They were each to be perfect and impeccable. Iphigenia was to be the perfect Princess, and her brother to be the perfect Prince. He learned how to fight, she learned music, he learned how to lead, she learned how to support. For Iphigenia, her job was always to compliment her surroundings and those above her, quite like a vase or flower may compliment a room. After her mother gave up in her endeavor, Iphigenia was a much freer person, but while she was well trained, her siblings were not. The ones after the two eldest were simply spoiled to keep them quiet, and rarely had to do anything they did not desire to.

Iphigenia as a young woman was quickly sought after for marriage, but she turned every suitor away. She knew she was only going to be used as a pawn, and that the nobles or generals seeking her hand were only looking to get closer to her father. To her father’s inquiries about her lack of interest in courting she responded this; “My younger siblings are better suited to be used as Pawns, they are brainless and number in the many, whereas I am more useful to you here.” And that was the last she was ever bothered about it by her father. Her doesn’t even bother to encourage her to wed, and Iphigenia has laid the matter at rest in her mind. Besides, much more important things are at her door at the moment.
(â•ŻÂ°â–ĄÂ°ïŒ‰â•Żïž” ┻━┻
FUCK TABLES


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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Cer on Tue Aug 23, 2011 6:34 pm

MIREILLE THE IDEALIST
Image
"Fate has a funny way of twisting things..."


PHYSICALITY

Description
Lithe in form, the petite figure is reminiscent of the old ages' tales of beauty. Though small, the hourglass shaping is still evident, offering up womanhood if her other features were unable to claim so. Raven locks stream loosely to her waist, ever flowing with the wind. Beneath a heavy brow, ominous eyes often pierce, seriousness and deadly intent at times filtering through their soft blue tint. Her nose points upward as surely as any ski-jump, leaving plump, peach lips on display. Symmetrical in features, the fey brings about a sense of beauty despite the pointed ears, translucent wings and change of race. Her gowns are loose and flowing, blending easily amongst the flowers' reds and blues as if she herself sprung from their very buds. Barefoot, beads are interwoven within her clothing, proof of too much time on her hands amidst spinning through her duties in life.

Appearance
Hair: Her raven hair streams to waist-length, threaded occasionally with various flora weaved into small braids amidst her lustrous locks.
Facial Hair: N/A
Eyes: Aquiline hues peer forth beneath ever-furrowed brows, the care and concern filtering heavily though the rippling pools of blue.
Build: Petite in frame, don't mistake the woman for lacking agility. Lithe like all fey, the small frame hides muscle definition with ease.
Skin Tone: Porcelain in hue much like the famed dolls, the fey queen could easily blend among the life-size ones if her mind was so given to such a task.
Height: 5'4"
Weight: Light as a whisper on the wind.
Voice: Soft as the rustling of the leaves in an autumn breeze, her words hold a melodic note akin to the hummings of nature working within us all.
Handed: Left, though the task at hand may lend favor to her right appendage in time.
Body Markings: In lieu of a crown to adorn her features, a simple, leaf-like drawing is emblazoned upon her forehead, marking a sign that she is rightful queen. On her torso lay a mass of twisting designs much like a cross with the face of a most noble animal in its midst -- a tribute to her loving husband and commemoration of being his.
Scar Tissue: No scars mar her form, and if they were to do so, the etchings would be so faint as to be untraceable.
Unique Body Features: A pair of translucent wings sprout from her shoulder blades, shimmering all colors of the rainbow in direct sunlight and otherwise tinting to an azure blue with glittering edges.

Name
Mireille Mikel

Nickname
Orlaith

Title
Queen of the fey

Race
Fey

Visual Age
Roughly twenty.

Factual Age
Since the sands of time first collected trees to bear young ones, or, more accurately, she hasn't counted years the way a human mind would.

Gender
Female

Sexual Orientation
Ambisextrous.

Mage Ranking
N/A

Class
Priest

Specialization
Cleric


MENTALITY

Personality
Ever calm in demeanor, Mireille can be the silent queen, seated quite like a statue while listening to complaints or charges against her kingdom. Though, a cheery air quickly breaks a smile onto her face leaving the harsh appearance rend asunder. Easygoing is quite possibly the best way to put her into one word, though her emotions tend to change faster than night and day. Each given moment is a chance to see the change from acquiescence to another's demands to a blinding rage that leaves no man unharmed. Through intellect, though, the woman is rarely nonplussed, thus sparing her the dull looks as a result of miscommunication.

Quirks
Mireille is a stubborn woman, much too proud of her race and strengths and too little concerned with what may conquer her. She would sooner woo and persuade than to draw back an arrow to its notch, though a smile often hides well-concealed lies for the sake of saving her kind's lives. Known through and through for being upfront in her wishes, all words she speaks flow with the undercurrent of what is truly meant to be said no matter what pours forth in its stead.

Moral Alignment
Chaotic Good.

Virtue/Creed
Mireille believes purely in peace. Where there is no peace, she sees hatred as the breeding ground and would prefer to stray far from it. Though, with ingenuity and a knack for patience, her belief is held that all problems can be solved with skill in understanding.

Motivation
The destruction of all that is sacred wreaks an unbearable cost.

Fears
Fear only fear itself or else you will soon find yourself cast out from the land of the living.

Goal
To secure the safety of her people and all who have scattered over the wide world is the only lasting dream of the queen. Any threat to that must be ousted.

Likes
If a truly golden heart crosses her path with words that create no mask of illusion, her favor is nigh immediately swayed. Though betrayal can oft end this with bitter rampage, kind words and honest help are a much appreciated -- and easy way -- to return to her good graces.

Dislikes
All who dare to cause threat, whether by force or lack of intention, meets with her immediate loathing, even if guised well at first. All allies to this foe will be disliked without further investigation, her mind too set that a traitor of any races' cause deserves a swift death.

Strengths
Defense is her priority, though her true strength lies in the ability to use the elements both as her disguise and as her aid in stealth and the thrill of the hunt.

Weaknesses
Her greatest strength, and at times, favored weakness will always be Galizur, her other half.


ARMAMENT

Body
Slightly sheer fabric, with suede at its edges, conceals her upper torso, knotted and tied with a blossom betwixt her breast and along her upper arms. Low slung on her hips a layered skirt hangs. Cerulean makes up the gist of its coloring, with magenta strips overlaying it and winding round the top in a braided belt. Her feet are often left bare, though, rarely, a pair of suede boots will cloak them in the winter months, coming up just short of her knees. A pair of spiderweb-hoop earrings with tassels stream down from her ears, matching beads with trinkets wound down from her necklace to pin to clothing and dangle from her belt, both gifts and meager power assistance alike.


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
Very Poor - Being small in stature leads to the general assumption that her muscle mass is less than that of her larger, human counterparts. This, in effect, grants her no leeway when it comes to unarmed combat, which is avoided at all costs, whether by using nature as her aid or equipping herself with anything that has the potential of coming into play as a weapon.

Melee Combat:
Excellent - Whether steel or wood is in her grasp, she will soon render herself master of whatever weapon she's come to possess, thus making for a dangerous adversary.

Armed Combat:
Poor - Unused to these mechanical inventions of the day, her use of them is rare -- as are her abilities to fire them. Without the strong ties to nature, her powers are rendered useless, making this weapon type a last resort.

Magic Combat:
Above Average - While her specialty lies in healing, a few minor spells are in her library of a cerebrum aimed toward deflection and defense.

Mounted Combat:
Average - Only when her beloved changes form will she take to mount, often preferring her own sure footing to an unsteady ride.


Racial Abilities
Entwined at birth with nature, Mireille has the ability to call upon nature and animals alike as her aid.

Natural Talent
Naturally gifted with a bow and arrow, archery is both her hobby and main weapon for casting down any foe.

Class Skills
Possessed with the grace of nature, Mireille has the ability to heal with mere touch and well-thought intent, giving of her own energy as a product of Nature's bounty.

Spells/Powers
Healing is her main and only course as an option. Whether it be defense or otherwise, her skills elsewhere are limited.


EQUIPMENT

Memorabilia
The lodestone of the ages, inherited from an elder of the village at a young age, lies encrusted in her bow to huide all arrows straight to the heart of the matter.

Accessories
A suede arrow pouch lies along her spine. a ram's horn is strapped against her hip, used in calling out to nature's guardians to come to her aid.

Weapon
Weapon Name: Lucinious
Weapon Type: Bow & Arrow
Material: Port Orford(esque) oak dominates the bow with linen tied fast as string for it.
Ammo: Osage orange wood makes up the shaft of the arrow, obsidian rock dominating the end as a means to cure negativity with her opponent's death.
Length: 27" Draw Length, 66 Length.
Weight: 5 lbs.
Weapon Description/Info: See memorabilia for related information.

Weapon Name: Sephira
Weapon Type: Staff
Material: Forged out of various gems and metals, her staff glistens with untapped strength, ready to be taken and used on any enemy that should come her way.
Ammo: N/A
Length: 6.2 feet.
Weight: Approximately 5 pounds.
Weapon Description/Info:


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
The fey are wed to this queen's heart of hearts and no matter of bribe or threat can tear her attentions from them.

Faction
The Rebellion

Marital Status
Wed to Galizur

Relatives
All who are attuned to nature in some way can stake a claim on relation, though Mireille believes it only to be the hearts that beat the same as proof of relation in spirit.

Origin
Mother Earth

Social Rank
Queen

Occupation
Ruler

Blood Pact
N/A

Bio/History
Once an ever present race, the fey vanished from existence for what seemed like a millenia. Guarded by their secrets of the past, the race became only legend. Though, the call for them to come forth has arisen just as the rising of the supposed God king, and the mysterious world lurking on the brink beckons one and all. Not for the faint of heart, the land of the fey offers a treasure to be found and no place for the faint of heart. Only those who find this rumored treasure, pledging devotion to their rebellion, can find true favor with the fey... or so it is said.
Last edited by Cer on Sat Sep 03, 2011 9:17 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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[Thank you, Master!]
I am to love, honour, cherish, obey
Until my death and beyond my decay.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kurokiku on Tue Aug 23, 2011 9:02 pm

Tristan Zilocke : Eldritch Manifestation of Chivalry

Image

"The greatest injustice is using the law to keep justice at bay."


Physicality

Description
At first blush, Chivalry is your typical knightly sort; tall, quiet, and probably not too intelligent. His complexion indicates some sun-exposure and a touch of weathering, but not more than you’d expect out of a particularly rambunctious nobleman’s son at the age of thirty or so. The scar might give you pause to reconsider that, though. It’s not his only one, but it is the only one that can be seen given the fact that he walks around in at least chainmail most of the time.

His armor is all extremely well-maintained and polished to a shine, though the actual design of it is simple and sturdy. The double-handed pommel and crossguard of a long Zweihander is visible over his right shoulder, the end of the blade trailing to the mid-calf area. He carries himself with a certain ease that suggests familiarity with all of this and also with being in the halls of the wealthy and titled, but there is no overconfident swagger to it. Were he not so large and shiny, he might actually qualify as unassuming.

His entire appearance suggests neatness and hygiene of a rather rare variety, actually, and he remains cleanshaven regardless of the prevailing court trends. Empress Shar could tell you that basically nothing about him has changed in almost three decades, save that his eyes carry a certain weariness they never did before. He’d have frown lines if he’d aged, but he hasn’t, and so that meager evidence is all there is to suggest the cast the last thirty years have had.

Appearance
Hair: Light blond.
Facial Hair: Cleanshaven
Eyes: Blue-green
Build: Muscular
Skin Tone: Somewhat tanned
Height: 6’5”
Weight: 210
Voice: Essentially this.
Handed: Ambidexterous, though he most often treats his left as dominant.
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue:Several scars, most noticeably a near-vertical line from his forehead down over his right eyelid down the corresponding cheek and a diagonal one that stretches from his left shoulder over his back to his right hip.
Unique Body Features: Tends to emit light when his glamour is weakened or he is required to exercise more power than usual.

Name
Tristan Leif Zilocke

Nickname
Chiv, Chivalry

Title
Eldritch Manifestation of Chivalric Virtue

Race
Eldritch- specifically, he is a spirit born from the minds of mortals across worlds, and is custodian of the virtue he was created from.

Visual Age
Early Thirties

Factual Age
As old as the desire to protect and serve.

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Technically heterosexual, though for obvious reasons, it’s not something he’s given a lot of thought to.

Class
Warrior

Specialization
Knight


Mentality

Personality
Chivalry is as his name suggests: polite to a fault. He has little taste for the sorts of underhanded politics most common in the God-King’s courts, and keeps himself removed from those goings-on as much as possible. That’s not too much, considering he acts as Empress Shar’s bodyguard, advisor, and confidant. He’s a very learned individual, and one with a great amount of empathy at his disposal, but his personal code forbids him from taking advantage of people for his own ends.

To say that he makes an unusual counterpart to Shar, then, is to do something of an injustice to the polarity of their personalities. As her summoned Eldritch, he is bound by the terms of their contract, which in themselves are most unusual for an agreement of the kind. He does not ask for her soul, nor her energy or power of any conventional variety; the most intrusive request he makes is that she not lie to him in any capacity.

This reflects well his attitudes towards people in general, actually. Unless a person has done something that Chivalry by nature takes issue with, he is unfailingly courteous even to those who would be rude to him. He shows no personal ambition of any sort, and actually seems to discourage Shar from becoming too ambitious herself. Always respectful, always ready to demur in an argument (even if he believes he has the right of it), it is hard to actively hate him, though this is not to say that such a thing is impossible by any means. His associations, for those who are not in the know as to exactly what he is (and the Eldritch are a very well-kept secret), often leave much to be desired, and it is not unusual for people to wonder why he serves the mistress he does.

Quirks
*Must follow his own personal code (which is quite restrictive) no matter the situation
*Impeccable manners
*Is literally incapable of lying- if he tries, the words do not make it out of his mouth.
*Tends to emit light on occasion. This is accidental.
*Also leaks magic- unintentional and unavoidable.

Moral Alignment
Neutral Good, but with strong Lawful leanings.

Motivation
His nature is its own motivation- he must act in a certain way because of what he is, not that he would ever wish to behave otherwise.

Fears
*Failure to protect Shar
*Failing to uphold his own code
*People forgetting him (if everyone forgot, he would cease to exist entirely)

Goal
His ends are played much closer to his chest than his means, and nobody has yet been able to pinpoint them exactly and completely. Day to day, his goal is nothing more complex than serving Empress Shar to the best of his ability. Long-term, he has much greater designs in mind.

Likes
*Manners
*People
*Combat (practice, mostly)
*Reading/study

Dislikes
*Being lied to
*Threats to his Contractor
*Unnecessary violence
*Discourtesy

Strengths
*Close-range fighting
*Knowledge of well
 quite a lot.
*Patience
*Does not need to eat, sleep, or perform any other human bodily functions

Weaknesses
*Cannot lie under any circumstances
*His personal code (which he literally must adhere to) does not allow for the slaying of opponents in any but the most dire situations, and never if they have asked for his mercy.
*Is absolutely hopeless at politicking/manipulation, though not subtlety.
*No stealth skill at all



Armament

Head
Most often nothing, though if he were, say, to stand upon a field of battle, he does own a helmet, and would use it. He often ties back his considerable length of hair with a leather cord.

Neck
A necklace with a blue stone on a silver chain. The stone carries the rune for Virtue upon its surface, and is the only physical marker that hints at his identity.

Chest
A royal blue tunic with the crest of the House of Moedma beneath a polished chainmail shirt beneath plate armor. The plate is modified to be without some of the bulkier joints, sacrificing defense for mobility.

Back
Same, plus the large sheath required for his sword.

Arm/Shoulder
His shoulders have metal pauldrons on them, and his arms are armored as well.

Right Hand
Gauntlet, in excellent condition.

Left Hand
”

Right Accessory
None.

Left Accessory
None.

Waist
Thick leather belt.

Legs
Greaves, also well-maintained.

Feet
Boots, made of boiled leather with metal plating. They’re also weighted in the sole.


Combat Prowess
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
[Excellent]- Though not Chivalry’s preferred method of combat, he’d consider it remiss of himself if he didn’t have some form of proficiency in this.

Melee/Armed Combat:
[Perfect]- This is Chivalry’s specialty. Simply put, when you’re the physical embodiment of a martial ideal centered upon it, you’re quite skilled at it. His preferred weapons are two-handed swords, though he can use just about anything.

Ranged Combat:
[Good]- Chiv can shoot a bow with accuracy, but his inability to conceal himself much means that he might as well just draw a blade and get in there.

Magic Combat:
[Very Poor]- Chiv can’t control magic; ironic, since he exudes it at a steady rate.

Mounted Combat:
[Good]- His weapon isn’t made for it, really, but he can keep a seat and do some damage here, too.

Racial Abilities
Sieve [Excellent]- As a spirit-being, Chiv has some connection to the arcane. He is not a mage, and so with the simplest of exceptions, he cannot take advantage of this, but Shar certainly can, and does. He essentially radiates magic, which she can use to augment her own skills, making them a formidable team, if an unexpected one.

Immortality [Perfect]- Chiv, though he assumes human form, is not a mortal entity, but a manifestation of a quality in mortals. Therefore, he cannot “die” unless everyone in every world stops knowing what Chivalry is or behaving in some way that accords with it. He can, however, be rendered temporarily useless by sustaining what would otherwise be fatal wounds. Cut off his human form’s head, and it can (rather gruesomely) reattach, but he’ll have to remain in stasis for a few hours to recover full function. The stasis period is proportional to the amount of bodily repair that must be done.

Natural Talent
Titan [Excellent]- His appearance might be human, but Chiv certainly is not. He is capable of lifting much more than even his considerable frame would suggest, lending strength to his blows and defense as well as a lesser, but still decent boost to his reflexes. As a downside, the full brunt of his strength is hardly practical to use, since he would most likely break any weapon he attempted to wield.

Restraint [Perfect]- If he deems it necessary (and he does), Chiv can cap his supernatural strength by degrees, which is of great assistance when he is trying not to kill things, which happens often. It also helps in the handling of delicate items such as fine chinaware. This ability is in effect most of the time, actually, just for the safety of those around him.

Class Skills
Bravery [Excellent]- Chiv is immune to tactics, magical or otherwise, designed to induce fear or control his mind or body.

Spells/Powers
Damage Split [Perfect]- While not a spell in the conventional sense, it is best thought of as one. Using this ability, Chiv can assume some or all of the damage sustained by an ally, after it has been done. As he is essentially indestructible since his tie to the earth is not himself but Shar, this is highly-useful. Too much damage, though, and he may find himself incapacitated for a while.


Equipment

Items
His sword and those items necessary to maintain it and his armor. He needs nothing else.

Memorabilia
An Eldritch has little use for anything of the sort.

Accessories
None.

Weapon
Weapon Name: The Edge of Reason, or just Edge
Weapon Type: Zweihander
Material: Diamond-edged adamantium physically, but it’s as much a part of him as the arms that hold it.
Length: 7ft
Weight: 15lbs
Weapon Description/Info: Edge came into existence with Chivalry, that he might never forget the martial component of his existence. It is the only weapon that can withstand the shattering force with which he is capable of swinging it. The blade is a blue-white color, the hilt, crossguard and handle free of ostentation.


Background

Group Affiliation
Eldritch do not generally have affiliation to anyone but their warlock, but Chiv feels a faint kinship to all individuals, especially those with the trait he is named for, male or female.

Faction
Technically the Holy Kingdom of Azrael through his connection with Shar, but really he’s out for his own ends.

Marital Status
Single, though obviously he hasn’t thought much about it either way.

Relatives
Well, he’s quite close with Charity, Felicity, Chastity, Justice, and all of their associates, but he has no blood relatives. Other then that, the person he’s most concerned with is obviously Shar, though he’d be hesitant to describe her as a relative of any kind.

Origin
The minds and hearts of those who have the quality he was named for. He does not remember his beginning, and only in his darkest moments does he foresee his end.

Social Rank
Doesn’t really have one, though for the sake of blending in, he was given a rank of knighthood.

Occupation
Empress Shar Moedma’s personal bodyguard.

Blood Pact
The contract itself appears very much in Shar’s favor. Chiv doesn’t seem to mind.
Chivalry’s Blood Pact Contract



Tristan Leif Zilocke, Immortal Manifestation of Mortal Chivalry, henceforth referred to as Chivalry, and Princess Shar Moedma, of the country Cam Lire of Earth, henceforth referred to as Shar, set forth their contract as follows:

The Service:

Chivalry shall lend the full force of the powers of his person to the objectives defined and stated by Shar and detailed in this Contract, as follows:

    Imprimis, As a being of pure spirit, Chivalry naturally releases magic from his aura into his immediate surroundings. As he has no specific need of nor use for it, for such time as the contract is in place, this magic shall be at the disposal of Shar, for her to do with as she wishes.

    Secundus, Barring circumstances of emergency or those in which permission- explicit or implicit- is given, Chivalry is to refrain from any form of physical contact with Shar. The restriction does not apply in the other direction, however.

    Tertius, Chivalry shall, upon request or order from Shar, protect any and all Helbourne from harm. This includes, but is not limited to, acts which would be formally considered by some to be treacherous, treasonous, mutinous, or generally despicable.

    Quartus, As a being with extensive understanding of the magic which binds him and also magic in general, having had much of eternity in which to learn, Chivalry will assist Shar in understanding any form of magic she does not understand or grasp by more conventional means.

    Quintus, Chivalry is obligated, in any situation where Shar’s life is in immediate or shortly-pending danger, to act in such a way as to do everything within his power and the resources at his disposal to protect her. This includes, if necessary, the temporary suspension of any other directive or objective listed above.

The Reward:

In return, Shar shall allow Chivalry into her confidence to any and all extent possible without the risking of her life, including answering any direct question asked of her and speaking not falsehoods, half-truths, or omissions to him. She is required to accept his counsel on any matter he chooses to give it for, though she is not compelled to obey, merely heed and weigh appropriately.

Conditions:

  • Shar may not order Chivalry to do anything that violates the tenets of his existence (specified elsewhere and made known to Shar at the time of the Contract’s creation). If she inadvertently does so, he is under no obligation to obey.

  • Though Shar may order Chivalry to accompany her somewhere at a specific time, she may not order him away from her presence if he wishes to be there, as this may interfere with his directives in ways that she may or may not fully understand at the time.

  • Shar is obligated to, at some point during any given week, at a specific time that she and Chivalry can agree upon, take tea with him. The duration of this tea shall be no less than one hour and no more than three, as Chivalry realizes she has other things to do, but the amount of time in each instance shall be at his discretion.



Bio/History
Tristan Leif Zilocke does not know the exact moment he resolved into existence, but he does know that there will not be any cessation of it as long as he does his job properly. As manifestation of the virtue of Chivalry, he is also its custodian, and must not only live up to its conditions (he physically cannot do otherwise), but do everything he can to ensure that others do so as well.

Chivalry’s Code

1. Never harm he who is guilty of no crime.
2. Never attack anyone unless he attacks you or those you are protecting first. Even if he does, do not take his life unless it is necessary to prevent him from doing so again, and never if he has asked for mercy.
3. Treat others with respect and courtesy, even if they cannot be bothered to do the same.
4. Defend those who cannot defend themselves.
5. Women and children are to be accorded a special level of respect and deference. This is not because they are weaker, but because the consequences of not doing so are quite often common and vulgar.
6. Protect your liege with your life and all the strength you have to give, but do not use your loyalty as an excuse to forget any of your other obligations.
7. Be well-read, well-spoken, and knowledgeable in as many areas as possible.
8. Refrain from using foul language.
9. Do not tell falsehoods, and use omissions or half-truths only when they are necessary to protect lives.
10. If you may use your wit or knowledge or skill to gain material advantage over someone, do not. Be fair and just in your dealings with others.
11. Strive towards mastery of everything you do; half-measures are as shameful as half-truths.
12. Live in a way that is modest and without ostentation. Refrain from unnecessary adornment in clothing, weaponry, or quarter.
13. Exhibit humility in all things, but do not self-deprecate if it is avoidable. Be honest about your faults, and quiet about your virtues.
14. Do not allow others to anger you with words alone. He who controls your temper controls you.


Chivalry was not particularly looking to be summoned anywhere and was generally rather content watching other realms from afar, trying to make sure that people remembered what he was all about. He did, however, for reasons he has told nobody, send the knowledge of how to summon him into the then-Princess Shar Moedma’s dreams, and was not terribly surprised when she acted on that knowledge.

Though she was barely old enough to understand what she had done, he made sure that the contract between them was favorable to her, but that it allowed him enough room to achieve (hopefully) his ultimate objective. He has been her stalwart companion ever since. The two do not always get along, as they have very different dispositions, but this has not stopped them from growing relatively close over the years. The terms of the contract mean that he understands a great deal more of her than she would probably like, but he has yet to exploit this knowledge, and he never will. He likes to think that one day, she will trust him.

In the meantime, Chiv is the perfect servant and bodyguard, even if he does always insist on second-guessing Shar’s decisions and playing the part of external conscience. Much to his apparent chagrin, her penchant for manipulation tends to get the better of him- a lot. He has more knowledge than she, but his code, his honesty, and his reluctance to use anything he knows for personal gain either make him the most archetypal knight in shining armor there ever was, or the world’s biggest sucker. Possibly both.


Mount


Appearance
Hair: Tawny fur, white feathers.
Eyes: Blue
Height: Eight feet tall, seven long, twenty-foot wingspan.
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: None

Name
Osiris

Nickname
Sir

Race
Gryphon

Age
23

Gender
Male

Abilities
Primordial Shriek [Good]- The griffin’s cry is enough to induce fear in the cowardly, and at close enough range, can render the listener temporarily deaf.


Skills
Flight: [Excellent]- A nimble air combatant, Sir is capable of carrying Chivalry in full plate armor plus another person with no reduction to his speed or stamina.

Equipment
None; Chivalry rides him without tack.

Accessories
None

Bio/History
A former wild griffin, Sir was encountered by Chiv some time after he was summoned to Cam Lire by the then-child Shar. He took a liking to the Eldritch, and so Chiv went ahead and trained him. The beast is almost as patient as the one he serves, and puts up with Ca’ern in much the same manner as Chivalry deals with Shar on a bad day.
Last edited by Kurokiku on Thu Aug 25, 2011 9:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kurokiku on Tue Aug 23, 2011 9:21 pm

Tanith Kelvaskur : Queen of the Dragonkin

Image

“Fear not going forward slowly. Fear only to stand still.”


Physicality

Description
As she appears to others presently, there is hardly a more gentle countenance to be seen anywhere. Her face is soft angles and slopes, heart-shaped and youthful. A slightly upturned nose lies between almond-shaped golden eyes with dark lashes. Widest at the cheekbones and narrowest at the chin, the default upward tilt to her mouth suggests an open, easy friendliness.

She moves quietly, with near-flawless posture, though most of the time also seemingly without direction, as though she were perpetually wandering aimlessly. She dresses mostly in the manner of someone from the lower middle class (albeit a lower middle-class man), though her fondness for glitter shows at her wrists and ankles, if one bothers to look.

Should the circumstances prove correct, however, it becomes evident that she is not what she seems. Transformation commonly begins with the appearance of thin lines of golden scales on her limbs, followed swiftly by an alteration in her eyes which makes them distinctly reptilian and luminous. Talons and wings grow as she gains size and her dentition shifts from the omnivorous human set of teeth to a purely carnivorous sort. Within thirty seconds or so, she is the size of the average artisan’s home, covered in a thick hide of resplendent scales, and in all other ways unmistakably a dragon.

Appearance
Hair: Gold, with strands more the color of burnished copper throughout. Worn very long, and most often loose.
Eyes: Also gold, bright enough to seem almost luminous- a flaw in her disguise.
Build: Svelte, with the sort of muscle that calls to mind hardiness rather than strength.
Skin Tone: Tawny.
Height: 5’5”
Weight: Around 125
Voice: Breathy, mezzo-soprano, and musical.
Handed: Right.
Body Markings: Seldom seen, there is a line of ancient script running down her spine, a seal on her power.
Scar Tissue: Curiously, none.
Unique Body Features: She has a musician’s hands: long, tapered fingers and what appears to be a delicate bone structure.

Name
Tanith Oro’vena Kelvaskur

Nickname
She hasn’t acquired any.

Title
Your Majesty; Queen of the Dragonkin

Race
Dragon

Visual Age
20-24

Factual Age
529

Gender
Female

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Mage Ranking
Oracle, though her magic is largely inaccessible in this form.

Class
Rogue

Specialization
Bard


Mentality

Personality
Draconian culture is a curious thing compared to most mortal ones, and there has been a relatively low level of cross-pollination in recent memory due to a rigid policy of isolationism amongst dragons. Only rarely do they interact with races outside their remote island, and humans least of all. While the leaders of the elves, orcs, and the fey, for example, have most likely met the current leader of the dragons or at the very least the former one, few outside of these privileged individuals have even seen a dragon.

A dragon is a strange mix of forces. In some ways, they are almost like their bestial reptilian cousins. Capable hunters that prefer to use their instincts rather than their intellects in the hunt, they are firm believers in the laws of nature and the food chain. As such, mercy and associated “virtues” only rarely figure into their way of thinking.

However, they are far from mere animals, and have highly-developed intellects. Though few can write, almost all dragons can read, though their history and teachings are kept via oral traditions with heavy musical elements to them. The importance of the elders, carriers of this information, cannot possibly be overestimated- in the memory lies the essence of what it is to be a dragon in the first place. They are philosophers, artisans, architects and scholars as each one chooses to be. The prevailing cultural philosophy of the dragonkin is based heavily on loyalty to the elders and to the crown. Formality is heavily utilized, and speech very guarded. Draconian court-speak is enigmatic at best, downright incomprehensible to outsiders (and sometimes insiders) at worst, but underneath even this lies a very rigid, formal idea of reciprocal justice and honor.

The third major component of the basic worldview of a dragon is the intuitive connection to magic that each of them shares. Where other races gain their knowledge of magical phenomena through intensive study and experimentation, dragons are magic, and as such, their primary focus comes to be upon learning and understanding themselves and their inherent capabilities. It is no easier than the arduous task humans or elves must undergo, and the results are not inherently superior. It is simply different.

It was into this world that Tanith was born, and in it that she was raised. Until recently, she had only very basic knowledge of cultures aside from her own, and the tendency for odd mannerisms and what might be taken to be a skewed perception of justice or morality remains even now. She tries to blend with the mainstream population, but this is considerably difficult, and she has learned at least to keep her more outrageous declarations to herself. Acclimation has not been simple, however.

Overall, she comes across as a well-meaning if naïve sort, the kind of person you might take to be a good deal more merciful and gentle than she actually is. She certainly has her moments of both, but she firmly believes in paying her debts, is completely against the unjust imprisonment of anyone, and with a background somewhere between Hammurabi’s Code and bushido, she can be absolutely ruthless if the occasion calls for it. Still, there is an underlying honor to the system that means her preference is always towards fairness and loyalty towards those who have somehow proven themselves worthy of it.

Quirks
Tends to hum to herself even in situations where this would be considered rude or impolite, has a fondness for human games of chance. Also tends to treat people with overblown amounts of formality by default, though she can be persuaded to do otherwise. Has a very absolute sense of justice, though not necessarily of right and wrong per se.

Moral Alignment
True Neutral

Motivation
Her people are depending on her to save them from the folly of her predecessors, and to restore them to what they once were. It is a heavy burden to bear, but at the same time, it drives her feet ever forward- one step after another.

Fears
That the dragons should ever be wiped permanently from the face of the world is the fear that sits deep in the pit of her stomach, content to be put aside mostly but never truly out of her awareness. She also fears that her guise will be discovered for what it is, and her task made all the more difficult for that. She does not fear those who would come after her for her hide, teeth, etc, but she is aware that this would happen and wary of it also.

Goal
Dragonkind was once a mighty force to be reckoned with, despite their small numbers. Not always were they myths or legends meant to scare children into obedience. Not always were what scarce fragments remain of their population cursed into an existence at a fraction of their might. It is Tanith’s only goal to make this the way of things again, to rid her kind of the plagues upon them, no matter what it takes.

Likes
*Music and dance
*Games of wit and chance
*A challenge
*Shiny things

Dislikes
*Being disrespected
*Anything that interferes with her independence
*Unjust acts

Strengths
*Powerful spellsong
*Highly intelligent (it really does come with age)
*Cunning
*Ability to transform into, well, a dragon

Weaknesses
*Lacks understanding of human society, having only entered it herself a few years ago
*Cannot navigate to save her life; it was never necessary when you could see everything from the sky
*Her human form carries with it a host of physical limitations that she would not otherwise have, including most horrendously soft skin and the lack of an ability to fly or fight in ways she is most accustomed to.
*Additionally, her disguise is not perfect, and she sometimes has difficulties passing as one. Dragons in Cam Lire tend to speak in obscurities and using vague, indirect language, something that frustrates many of the people she runs across, for example. She will also sometimes come across things she has never seen before and does not understand. She was almost arrested for stealing her first day in human civilization because she did not comprehend the concept of money.


Armament

Head
Occasionally something to keep her hair clear of her face.

Neck
An ordinary thin silver chain, with an onyx partially wrapped in worked silver hanging from it. Worn under her clothes rather than over them.

Chest
Loose-sleeved white shirt. It’s actually supposed to be a man’s garment, but she didn’t know that when she acquired it. Also wears a leather vest.

Back
Small bag holding what few things she has determined necessary to carry.

Arm/Shoulder
Sleeves; she also has an assortment of bracelets on her left forearm.

Right Hand
Nothing

Left Hand
Nothing

Right Accessory
Nothing

Left Accessory
Nothing

Waist
Leather belt, quite plain.

Legs
Pants; also men’s.

Feet
Depending on the season, sandals or leather boots. Assuming the former, there’s also bound to be jangling ankle bracelets present.


Combat Prowess
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
[Poor]- This isn’t her actual body, and nowhere does it show quite as badly as those situations in which Tanith is required to do skilled tasks (with a few exceptions) with her hands. Her handwriting is absolutely abysmal, and she is far from used enough to her humanoid body to fight with her hands alone.

Melee Combat:
[Average]- She’s more suited to support abilities, but does have some capabilities in this area if she absolutely needs to fight at close-range.

Ranged Combat:
[Very Poor]- She knows how to use not bow, crossbow, nor sling. Though she could throw a knife and hit whatever she was aiming at, it might not hit pointy-end-first.

Magic Combat:
Not applicable in her human state.

Mounted Combat:
[Poor]- She wouldn’t know where to start.

Racial Abilities
Dragonkin: [Perfect]- An inherent skill of dragon nobility, she can compel lesser dragonkin to do her bidding, though its usefulness is highly limited since she does not often encounter them.

Telepathy: [Average]- In human form, she is capable of weak telepathic communication with animals, more based on images and feelings than proper communication. As a dragon, it’s her primary method of speech to others, as the vocal apparatus of her species is not well suited to human language. She cannot hear a thought unless it is meant for her or particularly “loud.”

Natural Talent
The Ancient Pull: [Excellent]- Tanith can feel magic in people and objects, as well as get a general idea of how strong a mage is, even in her human form.

Entrancing Voice: [Perfect]- The melodies themselves, and the skill with which Tanith handles almost any instrument (including and especially her voice) is impressive. Additionally, her speechcraft carries some of the same quality; she can be very convincing if she puts her mind to it.

Class Skills
Bardic Music/Spellsong: [Perfect]- The natural magic imbued in her species lends strength to her song, and there are few more compelling or skilled bards out there.

Speechcraft: [Above Average]: Though she’s quite compelling magically if she has to be, her overall proficiency is hindered by the fact that dragons and humans/elves/orcs/what-have-you think very differently. Her logic and concept of justice and so forth is often at odds with the prevailing one, and this can reduce the effectiveness of her persuasion.

Spells/Powers
Fortification: [Perfect]- Imbues allies with quicker reflexes, increased strength, and damage resistance.

Fog Enveloping: [Perfect]- A song that lulls the target(s) into a false sense of security, making them complacent, slower, and all around less proficient at whatever they happened to be doing. Tends to send them into daydreams.

Phantasm: [Excellent]- Causes illusions; flickers at the corners of vision, a rustling of leaves, none of which are actually present. A good distraction technique, one that Tanith is still developing.


Equipment

Items
In her bag, she carries useful travel items like flint, fresh water, and a few spare items of clothing. She also carries both a lute and a wooden, elf-made flute.

Memorabilia
The necklace mentioned above qualifies.

Accessories
Nothing not mentioned above.

Weapon
Weapon Name: Dragon’s Tail
Weapon Type: Whip
Material: Steel
Ammo: None
Length: Nine sections of four inches each, plus a handle.
Weight: 7 lbs
Weapon Description/Info: The Dragon’s Tail is divided into nine sections, all tempered steel, and the most common method of use involves wrapping it around some part of one’s own body and, with timing and skill, unwinding it to increase momentum, at which point it may be used to damage, disable, or entrap foes. There is a pointed dart on the far end which can also slice when applied correctly. Tanith likes it because it sort of reminds her of her own tail.

Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Lute
Material: Sandalwood
Ammo: None
Length: About three feet
Weight: 5 lbs
Weapon Description/Info: A finely crafted musical instrument, and aside from her voice, Tanith’s most frequent choice in weapon.

Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Flute
Material: Redwood, chased in silver.
Ammo: Air
Length: A foot and a half
Weight: .5 lbs
Weapon Description/Info: Tanith’s flute is a beautiful instrument, though it’s unknown how she came across such a thing.


Background

Group Affiliation
Tanith’s primary affiliation is with her own kind. She is not so aloof as to not form attachments, she just has not had occasion to do so yet. She has no reason to love the Godking or Abaddon, quite the opposite. This does not mean, however, that she is best thought of as belonging to any particular rebellion. Her first thought is always for her people, and what is best for them.

Faction
Grand Union of You

Marital Status
Single, formerly affianced.

Relatives
*Father and Mother, elders of their race.
*Betrothed, deceased (slain by Abaddon in the name of Azrael)
*Grandfather, currently leading the dragons while Tanith is away, oldest living dragon.

Origin
Formerly Cinder Island, and most of her kind still lingers there.

Social Rank
Queen, the undisputed leader of her people. The title came to her by complete accident, as it was her betrothed that was the Prince, but since he was slain, she was the highest-ranked noble left (Cam Lire dragons have a notoriously-low fertility rate), so the title went to her.

Occupation
Presently, she watches and waits. Since the lifespan of a dragon can extend into millennia, she has the time and patience to do this. If she has need of coin, she plays music or gambles.

Bio/History
The Dragons of Cam Lire are a mysterious, secluded race, more often the stuff of legends than anything that anyone believes in anymore. ‘Twas not always so; once, they were numerous and strong enough that they ruled the world. But that was eons ago, much too long for recorded history to remember. Now, the species is a shadow of its former glory, but they still recall. Dragons are beings of pure arcane force, and though they do not use magic in the same sense that other races have learned to utilize it, it does not impede their mastery. Rather than using words and systems to get at the result they want, dragons are born with an intuitive understanding of magic itself, and need only will it to act in the way they desire.

They are not gods, but they were once worshipped like them. Like it does to everything else, though, the magic took its toll on the race. Though most remained sound of mind and body, fertility dropped so much that the species was drastically culled. They withdrew from the world at large and to the isolation of Cinder Island, fading from memory until they were nothing but bedtime stories for children.

It was into this isolation that Tanith was born. The species as a whole chooses to remain remote, though individual members are all free to choose whether or not to do so. Unfortunately, they are sighted by other races just often enough that sometimes they are hunted like beasts for their diamond-hard scales and claws, not to mention the magical properties of their bones, hearts, and teeth.

Most dragons learn to control their magic in the same stages that humanoid races do, the difference being that Ascension is very common, even expected, once the young ones reach the necessary level of expertise. This usually occurs at around 700-1000 years of age, though it can happen sooner. Though they tend to remain neutral in mortal affairs, Tanith's betrothed, Sigmund, was one of a few that believed that Azrael's summoning of Abaddon could only lead to ruin, and actively took a stance against him. Dragons are formidable foes, and Azrael saw to it that every member of Sigmund's family was slain individually for opposing him. When they came for Sigmund himself, Tanith fought beside him out of loyalty, but since she had no real identification with his cause, she was punished not with her death, but with a curse: her people were forced into the weakened forms of mortal creatures, free to transform only with restrictions on their original might, to ensure that they would no longer be such a large threat to Azrael.

Tanith now actively searches for a way to break the spell branded into her flesh, and to free her people once more. She does not hate the Godking nor Abaddon for defending themselves, but she will do whatever it takes to free her race, including slaying either of them if presented with the opportunity, should that be what it requires.


Transformation


Appearance
Scales: Golden
Eyes: Golden
Build: About the size of a house
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: None

Abilities
Transformation: Tanith can revert to her original form at will, but because it is impeded by the curse, it has to happen in stages. She will gain the form and a good deal of her magical power immediately, but a full transformation, power and all, will take about an hour to complete. Additionally, if she should attempt to change back before the transformation is completed one way, she will likely pass out for a few hours, since it requires a good deal of magic to be expended. Even done properly, she can only maintain her form for a few hours at a time before she is forced to spend a corresponding interval as a human again.

Resonant: A dragon’s magic is instinctual where a mage’s is learned. It is not superior in terms of power, necessarily; dragons have to learn much before they can use ‘deeper’ levels of it, just as an apprentice would. It also otherwise abides by the same system: dragons specialize, too. Tanith is an Arcane Warrior.

Spells

Element Breath: [Perfect]- The inherent skill of most dragons is the ability to breathe fire, but Tanith’s knowledge of the arcane allows her to swap to ice or electricity or simply gusty wind.

Fissure: [Excellent]- A manipulation of energy sunders the earth, swallowing the unwary in their premature graves.

Aura of Might: [Excellent]- There are few things more intimidating-looking than a dragon, and warriors of any less than outstanding courage and resolve will find themselves cowering in fear, if not outright running away.

Heal: [Above Average]- Your pretty basic, straightforward healing spell. It requires a passive, peaceful frame of mind to access and thus cannot be used in the heat of combat.

Tanith's curse prevents her from accessing any of her other spells.

Mage Level:
Adept upon initial transformation, though once she has been back in her native skin for about half an hour, she moves up to about master. After an hour, she's back at Oracle, which was where she was before she was cursed, though without some of her higher-level spells even so.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby TemplarWarden on Wed Aug 24, 2011 1:51 am

Nargash Soulripper
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Chieftain of the Soulripper tribe - Master of Demons



PHYSICALITY

Description
A great hulking figure, muscle bound and sturdy like so many of his kind. Nargash pulls above his brothers strength and stature a giant at roughly 203 cm. Wise, cunning eyes pierce out from beneath the neanderthal forehead. Deep red and filled with dark intentions. Unlike many of his that eschew proper, more civilized clothing he dons a set of loose black and purple garments. Tailored yet seemingly out of place on the massive creature. Vicious tusks jut from the boar-like muzzle and bear the weathered features of well worn tools. Nargash himself bears disconcerting lack of scars and a quite healthy, rather attractive sheen to his unusual dark red flesh. Fiendish black tattoo stripes extend over his hairless scalp and to the nape of his neck.

Visual Age: 26

Factual Age: 51

Gender: Male

Class: Mage
Specialization: Warlock
Mage Ranking: Master



MENTALITY

Personality:
A bizarre amongst orcs Nargash is not motived by violence and anger alone. His mind runs along mcuh more complex lines then most of his species. Plots flow and form in the mind behind his dark eyes. A cunning and intellect dwells that is equal to the policitions of other races. Nargash weilds his mind and skills as greater weapons then any sword or axe. Manipulation is his first call of attention yet violence is not far beyond. Even he cannot escape fromt the demands of his bestial nature and indulges in bloodletting. The warlock sets himself against great tasks, each one more difficult then the last. Failure is no longer a prospect for him and fear is absent.

Moral Alignment: Neutral Evil

Motivation: Nargash desires power, an unquenchable desire for power. Although he has somewhat of a dedication to his people his own goals precede them.

Fears: Nargash feels no fear and indeed he is protected from any situation that would require him to show the emotion.

Goal: Although he contains his bloodletting he has a keen desire to bring about a great war of massive scale. Ultimately his goal is to destroy the God King and take his place.


ARMAMENT

Head: -

Neck: -

Chest: Loose black and purple woven tunic, infused with magic to provide a resilience strength akin to that of chain mail.

Back: -

Arm/Shoulder: *See Chest*

Right Hand: -

Left Hand: -

Right Accessory: -

Left Accessory: -

Waist: Belt of Darkness appears to be a simple leather belt with a crude metal buckle. Yet with the correct command word the infused magic can summon a sphere of magical darkness in the immediate vicinity.

Legs A set of loose leggings to match Nargash's tunic.

Feet A pair of plain leather sandals.


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Melee Combat: Above Average
Strengthened and accelerated by his demonic ally Nargash has become a impressive warrior among his kind.

Magic Combat: Excellent
Eldritch power flows through Nargash's very blood, infusing him with supernatural strength, speed and command of invocations.

Mounted Combat: Poor
Never required to battle while mounted upon a beast Nargash has little capability in the area. Although his skills in battle assist at a basic level.

Racial Abilities:
Bloodrage: If Nargash looses his rein upon his violent nature when blood is shed he becomes a berserk creature driven by bloodlust and rage.

Hellish history: The ancestors of the Soulripper tribe followed the route that Nargash pursued, taking pacts with eldritch creatures and forever polluting their bloodline giving them a strange skin hue and tougher skin then most - However this trait has been supplanted by Nargash's more recent pact.

Natural Talent:
Assurance: Nargash is confident in his abilities and this assurance cannot help but be noticed by those around him, inspiring fear or courage dependant on their position.

Manipulative: Cunning and intelligent Nargash can twist his thicker-headed fellows around his little finger, he knows when a well placed word can sway any situation.

Class Skills:
Physical distortion: Nargash's pact has provided him great power in a range of ways. As well as magical abilities Nargash's strength, speed and endurance had grown. His skin is tougher then rhino hide and heals with a beauty uncommon to orcs.

Demonic protection: One of the clauses of Nargash's agreement is that he remain alive until he can fulfill his promise. So minor demons have been conscripted as an invisible form of protection against assassination attempts. This give the warlock of sense of invulnerability although if the assassin proves more powerful then his protector they can break through.

Summoning: Nargash can summon demons and other eldritch creatures as thralls to his cause. The influence of Teifar assists greatly in the choosing and command of these beasts.

Eldritch blast: Streams of purple darkness rip from Nargash's body with just a thought. The demonic power spreads through a victim, inflicting great pain and weakening them greatly.

Spells/Powers:
Eldritch storm: Lesser
Nargash invokes a boiling mass of power in an area. All within are burned as the purple hell-fire rips over their bodies.

Spider's blast: Lesser
The Eldritch blast shift from purple to green as the warlock commands. The magic reaches into the blood and coalesces there as a virulent spider's venom. The victims are paralyzed, or if their body fights the venom, slowed.

Shift: Grand
The column of hell-fire consumes Nargash, transforming him into a great being of demonic flame. This power can only be maintained only when Teifar is continuously sated with blood spilled at the Warlock's command.

Death blast: Greater
At will Nargash can attempt to rip the soul from another being, instantly defying them continuation of life. Yet such an action is taxing upon Nargash's body.

Ghostly whispers: Greater
Nargash can trick the minds of those he wishes by placing words that were never spoken. He can inspire great fear through the same method.

Eldritch Chain: Least
Nargash's Eldritch blast may extend beyond a single target, leaping from foe to foe. However, this severally reduces its power. Although all victims are weakened by its touch.


EQUIPMENT

Items

Accessories:
Soulripper Staff: A straight, strong Arcwood staff. The sign of his office as chieftain of the Soulripper tribe. It has been held by the ruler of the tribe since their warlock roots and contains a minor enchantment giving the bearer increased alertness.

Weapon
Weapon Name: The Fleshdrinker
Weapon Type: Greatsword
Material: Astral Silver
Length: 152 cm
Weapon Description/Info: The Fleshdrinker is no mortal weapon, instead it sources from the eldritch plane and gifted to Nargash. Runes run along the length of the mysterious liquid metal. The blade is magical, able to rend flesh more readily then plain steel. It drains the life force of its victim, conveying some of it to bolster Nargash while Teifar feasts upon the rest.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation: Nargash cannot avoid running with orcs, as he is a chieftain of the race. He rules his tribe and involves himself in the higher circles of leadership of his kind, brushing shoulders with the great chieftain and other prestigious members of his race. However, his will involve himself with any who will assist his quest for power.

Faction: Grand Union of You

Relatives: Nargash is descended directly from the Soulripper line, yet so have many others in his tribe. He has plentiful relatives among the Soulrippers, relationships with them are nothing notable. His immediate brothers are only seen as his greatest threats and allies.

Blood Pact: Nargash has joined himself with a power being known as Teifar. while not the most manipulative of demons Teifar is no doubt cunning and evil without compunction. He delights in bloodshed, battle and death. He is fueled by the same desire of violence that runs in the veins of the orcs. The alliance is beneficial to both parties and the deal was simple. Teifar provides the orc with great power and protection until the bargain is completed. In return Teifar can feast upon the blood of those killed at Nargash's command and the souls of those struck down by the Fleshdrinker until the blade is destroyed. The final goal of both parties is mutual, the destruction of the God King and Abaddon.

Bio/History: Nargash was born to the chieftain of the Soulripper tribe, Jurgal, from one of his many wives. He was not the stronger nor the weaker of his brothers. His actions did little to invite the attention of his father, not that the attention of the brutal warlord was to be desired. He was raised as a simple warrior among his tribe. Through that time his desire for power grew. Plots had always been a constant companion, since his youth his plans had targeted other members of the tribe for petty thefts, revenge or simple the desire to see them suffer. He always found he could beguile and convince others to assist in his plans. As well as convincingly lay the blame on them if any of his endeavors were rumbled.

With this realization Nargash saw that he could control a tribe much more then with the raw violence his father exploited and so his thoughts turned to power. As he matured, so did his understanding of the specifics of the gaining of power and his horizons grew broader. He searched for ways of forming reality from his desires. He found the route in the shamans of his clan. Little more then hedge warlocks the shamans summoned minor demons and creatures to enchant minor charms and cast minor spells. Nargash attempted to learn their trade and begrudgingly they agreed and taught him of the summoning. It took several years for Nargash to learn what he desired from him. Yet learning more showed to him that a mind as cunning as his could achieve so much more. In the prime of his life he learned of the God King who rose spectacularly to power and now sought to emulate the human's greatness.

Leaving the oppressive restrictions of his tribe Nargash lost himself in the midst of Belholt for many years. Pursuing his own study of the abysmal and eldritch realms. Exploiting his skills at summoning to learn from the denizens of the planes themselves. He grew in knowledge and confidence. Away from civilization for so long with only the company of demons the orc lost a semblance of sanity. With creatures of great power at his beck and call he began to believe himself as invincible and the destruction of the God King he so desired became a very real possibility. He began to fear nothing and withheld little of his energies from his task. While his greatest weakness it was also his greatest strength. Nargash learned of the world beyond his dark refugee from spies summoned and bound to his bidding. He learned of the great power of the God King and vitally, how it was obtained.

His goal within sight Nargash began to search for a creature of power that approached that of The Destroyer and wished to see the great being destroyed. His first quests were failures, fear of Abaddon filled the eldritch creatures. Yet the orc persevered and success was grasped. He brough himself to the attention to Teifar, a violent being who's power began to near that of Abaddon and wish was to destroy the greater being. The pact was sealed, the contract crudely yet accurately carved in obliging rock and signed with blood. The vital step completed and Nargash, imbued with the power of Teifar, emerged from the savagelands to a community much changed.
The Spice Melange occurs on only one planet in the entire universe.
The Planet Arrakis, also known as Dune.
He who controls Arrakis, controls the Spice. He who controls the Spice, controls the universe.


Omnomnomnom

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Weirdo on Wed Aug 24, 2011 2:42 am

Anthea : The Lost Unicorn
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"What have you done to me?"


PHYSICALITY

Description
Anthea appears as shiningly pretty as her Unicorn counterpart might. Her skin glows slightly with lively complexion, while her eyes shine with wise light. She looks helplessly doll-like, as if she were easy and pitiful prey to be devoured in lust and hunger. But while this is true, a defiantly cold look or even haughty scowl always plays at her face. This is because the woman you view is not really a woman, or she wasn’t originally at least.

Anthea’s original form was that of a Unicorn, a being with a horse’s body, lion’s tail, cloven hooves and single horn upon their brow. A Unicorn is much smaller than a horse however, only slightly taller than a Great Dane, and much more lithe. Her pristine white coat shined, and her head was deadly if at all small. Believe or not Unicorns are actually very strong, they are Guardians of the forest after all. But her strong will has been weakened by the capture of herself and this transformation into a woman. She is so unsure of herself, and so confused now. It is not uncommon to see her weeping.

ImageAppearance
Hair: Soft pale violet, goes down to her thighs in waves
Eyes: Green
Build: Slender and doll-like
Skin Tone: Lively, with a slight glow
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 80 lbs, due to her race being especially light, her bones are simply more light than a human's
Voice: Soft and sweet.
Handed: Right
Body Markings: a star shaped white 'birthmark' on her forhead, only noticable if you look at her long enough.+
Unique Body Features: Everything about her appearance is unique. Her unnatural beauty, right down to her hair color and glowing skin.

Name A Servant called her Anthea once, and the name circulated and stuck.


Nickname "Poor Dear" "Pretty little thing."


Title An Exotic Pet


Race Unicorn


Visual Age Early twenties


Factual Age 236 human years


Gender Female


Sexual Orientation Pansexual or Asexual


Mage Rank Master


Class Mage


Specialization Arcane Warrior



MENTALITY

Personality
What do you expect when meeting a Unicorn? Do you expect politeness? Regality matching a noble perhaps? Of course you must expect to be met with nothing short of sweetness, right? Not exactly so I’m afraid. To be truthful she is much more sassy than sweet. Cynicism and distrust pervade her speech and thoughts, if she did not like humanoids before she does not like them double now. Pessimistic wisdom can be claimed as a measure of virtue, but really she only wishes for her own means, or at least she says she does. She could have escaped a few times already in the past, but she has been conditioned not to, and she doesn’t even realize it. Her crooked smile is more broken then she thinks, and this added distress only makes her more confused.

As a Unicorn her emotions were simple and clear, her duty resolute. But as a woman they make less sense with each passing day. She now feels a hallow where there once was no empty space in her heart. She feels loneliness where she hadn’t any need for any company before. Insensible thoughts and bouts of anger make her throw passive aggressive tantrums at her caretakers and anyone else who will give her a second glance.

While she is intelligent, she also does not explain herself to anyone, and as such she may just look illogical and insane. She thinks of Humans and other Races as horrible and cruel, and will turn a cold shoulder to even children these days.

Quirks
-Speaks telepathically
-Is a confused individual
-Weeps often
-At other times will appear strong willed


Moral Alignment
Neutral

Virtue/Creed
"Why should I care for human affairs? They hardly ever care for the forests or beasts that dwell within them."

Motivation
To return as a Unicorn, the way it used to be.

Fears
Staying as a woman forever.

Goal
1) Return to being a Unicorn
2) Escape Cam Lire
3) Find the whereabouts of her youngling and reunite with him

Likes
She has a love and hate relationship with the Palace's food, finding it delicious to the point of her eating quite a bit. But also she feels guilty for feeling that way. She is quite indescriminate in what sort of food it is too. But other than food she does not seem to like anything else, as is apparent from her moping about the exotic animal Garden in the Palace.

Dislikes
Her dislikes seem numerous, she dislikes the servants who touch and feed her, she downright hates the man who turned her into a woman, his name is Seric, and she detests her situation and the mentality of the creatures around her. They have become tame and obedient, and care not to speak intelligably, they have become lifeless in her eyes.

Strengths
The magical possibilities she was born with prove to be her main asset, and her properties as a Unicorn make her valuable. For now her magic seems to be changing slightly however, and her appearance prompts other servants to pity her and want to give her attention. She can weasel as much food from them as she likes. She used to have a strong will, and tears had never touched her eyes before this terrible enslavement, but she can no longer call herself a strong Guardian.

Weaknesses
Her size and physicality, although she is surprisingly about as strong as a full-grown man, she lacks the body weight to hold her place if hit. Her general weakness in temperment and mentality is at the moment daunting. As with all Unicorns, women of purity and children are another weakness of hers.


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
[very poor]-she has no idea how to even throw a punch.

Melee Combat:
[very poor]-she can not use any sort of weapon either.

Magic Combat:
[Excellent]-her 'wild magic' that deals with nature is very powerful, however at the moment she does not use it for fear of being punished physically.

Mounted Combat:
[Perfect]-well sort of, she rides no mount, but is one herself, and as a Unicorn she was most powerful.

Racial Abilities
[Excellent]-Immunity to Poison- They say a Unicorn's blood is the most powerful anitdote for Poison, this is true.
[Excellent]-Regal Beast-Even in the form of a woman, she is recognised by other creatures as the Guardian of the forest, and most creatures show a Unicorn respect.
[Perfect]-Communication-Unicorns don't speak with their tongue, they speak with their thoughts, and in this way they have no need to learn languages, Anthea still communicates in this manner.
[Excellent]-Wild Magic-This sort of magic is what her she was born with, much like the teeth on a wildcat.

Natural Talent
[Excellent]-Running-Wanna try outrunning a horse?

Class Skills
[Perfect]-Comprehension of Magic-Her own race's kind of magic at the very least, which applies in part to other sorts, however whether she can make anyone besides another Unicorn understand her is questionable.

Spells/Powers
Wild Magic is not really something broken down into spells and incantations, but rather a partnership with the world about you and the energies running through it. Anthea, once aquainted with an area, can even commune with the foliage, a difficult task since foliage, especially trees, are extremely reclusive and sleepy. Anthea can heal the earth, giving it her energy, and it can return to favor, giving it back. But this process takes a lot, and if she heals herself she kills part of nature, taking its energy, and so Unicorns do not generally do so. Anthea can also make foliage grown the way she wants it too, can even spring it to life. Elements are at her command to a degree. She can not produce and element, but she can bend it to her will, the more of the element she tries to control to more difficult it is to do so. The possibilities with combining and seperating these elements are endless as well, much like Alchemy.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
Guardians of the forest

Faction
Grand Union of YOU

Marital Status
single, Unicorns do not marry, they mate

Relatives
Her mother she believes to be still living, while her foal is certainly alive and well. She would be able to feel it if he were dead.

Origin
The Great Forest, Aeldon

Social Rank
Serf

Occupation
To look nice and pretty, and behave herself


Bio/History
A realm where many magical beasts are hunted for their properties, the Unicorn was perhaps the most valuable. A Unicorn was a creature birthed by a nature god to be a Guardian of the weak and pure, in correspondence to the Races roaming the earth. However the nature god unintentionally made it so that the creatures also felt a protective pull over children and young maidens. And when Hellborne and Human hunters became greedy, that unintentional mistake began to be the beast's undoing. Man began using children or young women to lure the solitary and elusive Unicorns out.

But thankfully our young Unicorn was among the first to figure out this tactic, and so retreat deeper into the forests. The same could unfortunately not be said for her foal, whom she had given birth to around the age of two hundred years. He fell victim to a hunter, and they used her foal as leverage to capture her. They promised to set him free, and so they did, but only because they needed the beast to grow more before he could be valuable enough to sell.

Our Unicorn was taken and collared, and sold from owner to owner for 36 years. Being beaten and misused sometimes, at other times with a tad more reverence. But in her 36th year of travel, she found herself on sale in Illumine. The King’s Advisor and Alchemist took notice of her and named a price. At first Anthea ignored him, his price was too low, and it looked like she was not going to be bought. But instead he had other things in mind, and took her by force, naming his political position and destroying the cages of a few other animals around. She was given up to him and taken to the God King’s castle, where she was presented to the King. Anthea remembers being sniffed by his hound, and how ugly and hungry he looked, but rather than dog food she was added to his exotic garden of pets, kept in one of the spacious pieces of Garden in the palace.

Anthea was named by one of the servants, not that she cared, but she is called this now. And the Alchemist surprisingly called her by name on day to come with him. She thought nothing of it once more, but turned out to be horribly wrong. She became one of his many experiments, turned into a woman through his Alchemy. Since then she has been nothing short of increasingly distraught.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Weirdo on Thu Aug 25, 2011 3:44 pm

Fiona Draconis : The Deserter
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"I'll forge my own path!"


PHYSICALITY

Description
A glance at this girl can tell you that she is pretty, someone a boy might have a crush on, especially since she is so upbeat and chipper. Easy to approach and chat with, she gives off a friendly vibe, even sunny. Certainly she leaves no one with a cold shoulder, her warm personality eminates from her. A soft face that is neither unapproachably beautiful nor average looking holds a petite nose and mouth, framed by wide, violet eyes. She looks very human despite her heritage, all except for her teeth, which are easily hidden even when she smiles. Her hair is long and apple red, reaching the tops of her thighs, while she likes to keep it long; she still ties it together with ribbon at the bottom to keep it out of the way.

Her body is not yet fully developed, as she has grown quickly in her teen years she has yet to fill out completely, making her look lanky, but altogether pleasant, one can tell she will come to fill out nicely.

Her clothes are that of a lady squire, leather and skirted, but she does have a set of nice clothes that still show her position in life, but are appropriate to any noble occasion.

Appearance
Hair: Apple red and long, reaching the top of her thighs.
Eyes: Large and purple
Build: A tad on the lanky side
Skin Tone: caucasian
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 155 lbs
Voice: girlish, but serious
Handed: almost ambidextrous, but left handed
Scar Tissue: A long one on her shoulder from a sparring accident, and one on her knee
Unique Body Features: Her k-nines look more like fangs

Name
Fiona Draconis

Nickname
Her Knight mentor used to call her the 'Dragon Squire'
Fi [fee]

Title
Squire Draconis

Race
Half human and Half Dragon, though this is not entirely confirmed by proof. But rather implied by her teachers and one-time mentor. However they are entirely correct

Visual Age
19

Factual Age
19

Gender
Female

Sexual Orientation
heterosexual, but supportive of different kinds of love


Class
Warrior

Specialization
Almost Knight turned Merenary, but if you call her a Mercenary she'll yell your ear off.


MENTALITY

Personality
From the very first moment that Fiona knew what a Knight was, she wanted to be one. They all looked so amazing and strong, riding past her dazzling eyes on white steeds and shining Armour, she had heard countless stories and played with sticks as swords. She can’t tell you how many fiends she slayed back in those days, those good old days.

These days her opinion has differed, not believing that being a Knight under the leadership of an unjust God is the right thing to do. Instead she has decided to become a knight of the people, whatever the heck that will end up meaning!

Eager and determined, Fiona is someone very likely to get right to the point and charge on ahead. She’s completely honest and earnest in her intentions, and won’t stop at anything once she’s set her mind to it. Fiona could teach a donkey a thing or two about being stubborn; this has proven to make most things in her life possible for her. Had she not insisted again and again that she be allowed to participate in the entrance exams for the Knight Academy in Ethona, she would not have become a Squire. Her iron will is not to be broken, especially at the expense of others.

Like most other Knights she looks up to, Fiona holds herself to a set of rules she must fallow. They include doing the right thing no matter what and protecting the weak. She’s an optimist who likes to think better of the world, and will hold people to their word, just like she holds herself to her own. She isn’t naïve
well too naïve, she knows that people will lie, but she hopes to make them act accordingly when working with her. And in this way she can tell if a person is lying pretty easily, interrogation through conversational means is a task she can handle with flair. Most think that because of her ‘stupid’ optimism that she must not be too intelligent, when in reality she’s pretty slick, a trait you’ll notice once you start talking to her. Although a generally respectful person, she isn’t one to allow others to walk all over her or someone else. Making good use of sarcasm is always a good pass time. Just cause she’s got a brain doesn’t mean she can’t smile right?

During combat Fiona is good, talented, even resourceful, but lacking maturity in skill. She has great brute strength and is used to winning in that manner, but when faced with someone of much greater skill her strength is not enough. Even though she always seeks to better herself she is not aware of that flaw in her fighting style quite yet.

Quirks
-Twirls hair when nervous
-Is a goofy and tipsy drunk
-Is also a very handsy drunk...
-Sometimes when she sneezes fire comes out of her mouth
-Can be easily distracted by cute things
-I don't think you understand just how stubborn she can be.

Moral Alignment
Neutral Good

Virtue/Creed
"I'll forge my own path!"

Motivation
Internal motivation mostly

Fears
Ants, terrible terrible fear of ants
Is afraid of getting caught by authorities for deserting

Goal
To become a Knight eventually, but under a ruler who is fair and just

Likes
Cute things
flowers
rain
most food
secretly wants to wear dresses but doesn't because she is a Squire

Dislikes
the heat
the current King of Ethona
bullies

Strengths
Strong Will
Strength
Resourcefulness
Willingness to learn new things

Weaknesses
Depending on her brute strength
Naivete due to age
Too trusting of others


ARMAMENT

Fiona's armour is mostly leather, and since she did not make it to full Knighthood she has no set of armour. She does however have a simple round sheild a third her size that never got branded or painted.


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
[Above Average]- She is a Squire, trained to use a sword, but she can hold her own in a fist fight better than the simple untrained individual.

Melee Combat:
[Above Average]-she would know what to do, certainly she lnows to kill someone before they kill you, but she has only ever been in one full blown battle, and it was scary as hell.

Armed Combat:
[Excellent]-All of her abilities combined, even given that she is not fully developed in her swordplay, makes a damn good fighter.

Magic Combat:
[Very Poor]-...she doesn't do magic.

Mounted Combat:
[Good]-She's had jousting training, give her a horse and she can make due

Racial Abilities
[Good]-strength-The Dragon blood in her make her body stronger than you'd expect, much stronger. She can move the weight of a whole carriage at full capacity.
[Good]-Durability-Another quirk, her body is tougher and can take more damage and hits than average, but although her bones are harder to break, they still can and will.
[Excellent]-Firebreath- SHe used to not be able to control when this happened, since breathing fire is pretty much like breathing for her. But instead unwanted bursts only happen one in a blue moon, usually during a sneeze

Natural Talent
Nope, she's got to work hard at everything and anything she wants.

Class Skills
[Good]-Swordplay-She learns more every day, but currently she style invovles a head on appraoch and an emphasis on strength and overwhelming the enemy.
[Excellent]-Riding-Horse or a bird or...thing, she can probably figure out how to ride it easily enough.
[Good]-First Aid-She knows a little more than the basics, but is no healer.


EQUIPMENT

Items
Satchel-carrying basic first aid supplies, some coin, her cloak
Map-Of Cam lire, this map shows the archane bridges and other landmarks, but nothing so specific as to make things too easy unfortunately.
Canteen-filled with water of cours!

Accessories
A few differently colored ribbons she keeps to tie her hair with

Weapon
Weapon Name: none
Weapon Type: Long Sword
Material: Dwarven Metal
Ammo: N/A
Length: 32 inches
Weight: 3lbs
Weapon Description/Info:
A simple crafted specimen, not one of above average value, mass produced for war and Squires.

Weapon Name: none
Weapon Type: Sheild
Material: Dwarven Metal
Ammo: N/A
Length: 23 inches
Weight: 13lbs
Weapon Description/Info:
Roung and completely silver, the Sheild can be used in offense attacks as well and defensive ones. Another mass produced product.

Weapon Name: none
Weapon Type: Dagger
Material: dwarven metal
Ammo: n/a
Length: five inches
Weight: fourth a lb about
Weapon Description/Info:
Generic and the same as her other weapons, this blade is straight and has a short handle, mostly for handiwork use rather than combat


BACKGROUND


Faction
The Rebellion

Marital Status
Single

Relatives
None that she knows, she's an orphan apparently

Origin
Illumine alley, next to a brothel

Social Rank
Squire

Occupation
Squire for hire...please stop laughing

Bio/History
Found in an alley by a whore with some measure of a good heart, Fiona was taken to a church orphanage. She spent her childhood there and played out onto the street with all of the other children. At age sixteen she became old enough to take the exams to enter the Academy that fleshed out knights. With a good enough score she could get in free of tuition, she did get in this way, and two years later became a squire. Her mentor however was a resolute Azreal fallower, and she began to see the kingdom's twisted ways and experienced discrimination for the first time as a hafling between races. She was shocked at first to be sure. But her advantages because of what she was became worth it. She gained respect, but was still dissatisfied withthe way things were in Illumine.

She deserted about a month ago, in which she found herself in a bar around two weeks ago in a town outside of Illumine. There was a bar fight and Fiona ended up joining in, that was when she him, the man she became determined to learn from. His sword was too quick to fallow with the eye, and he was untouchable, like the wind! Fiona decided that she wanted to be able to move like that, and ran after him after he fled the bar, apparently annoyed. She complimented him on his skill and asked to be taken under his tutilage. She thought she'd have to beg and pester him until he finally became so annoyed he said yes, but to her utter surprise he needed no prompting. And so began the strange mentorship under Joshua Foulke.
.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Aftershock on Thu Aug 25, 2011 4:51 pm

TERRYN WYNTER : SON OF GOD
Image
"I FEAR NO MAN, NO FATE, NO GOD. YOU HAVE RESPECT, BUT I WILL NOT COWER BEFORE YOU"


PHYSICALITY

Physical Description

Appearance
Hair: Long black
Facial Hair: None
Eyes: He has his mothers eyes, a deep blue
Build: Not as slim as in the image above, he's well-built and well-muscled with little fat on him.
Skin Tone: Tan
Height: 6'2 ft
Weight: 193 lbs
Voice: Powerful, confident, filled with authority, good-humoured and sincere
Handed: Right
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: None
Unique Body Features: A spitting image of his father when he was younger

Name
Terryn Wynter

Nickname
Terryn

Title
None (as of yet, he has only just discovered the identity of his father)

Race
Human

Visual Age
30

Factual Age
30

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Mage Ranking
Adept (nearing Master)

Class
Mage (though he is extremely proficient with his twin blades)

Specialization
Warlock


MENTALITY

Personality


Quirks
Although he grew up without privilege, there is an air of regality around him. This lends him an unusual blend of nobility and humility, being completely down to earth and 'real' while still carrying himself and holding the dignity of a royal.

Moral Alignment
Lawful good

Virtue/Creed
He believes in the goodness of mankind, that everyone has the ability to redeem themselves. However, his world view has also been harshened by a fairly modest upbringing in an unforgiving world. Preferring to deal in 'real' matters, rather than bullshit bureaucracy, he is a sincere person. His mother raised him to have the heart for compassion, and the strength and determination to carry it through.

Motivation
He has two motivations. Firstly, his mother. Although she managed to take a fair amount of his fathers gold when she fled him, she was not able to keep all of it. Unable to defend herself, several goons forced it off her when they discovered the gold she carried. Although they didn't get all of it, they left her with a far more modest sum than she had anticipated. He wishes to see her living a life she deserves, and now wishes to take her back to the castle. Secondly, more so now that he knows his father is the king, he wishes to improve life as much as possible. He hopes to use his position of the eldest son and true heir to help the kind of people he grew up with, so that good people do not get punished while evil people prosper merely because of the conditions of their birth.

Fears
He fears more for those he loves than for himself. He fears for his mother, and hates to see good people suffer.

Goal
To become king after his father, and to bring the land in a new direction. To do as much as he can to end unjust suffering and tyranny.

Likes
Magic. For as long as he can remember, his mother has taught him what little magic she's known, and the reading and writing skills necessary to learn from the tomes she brought with her from Azrael when she left. He's known magic as long as he's known speech, and it's as natural for him as walking.
Swordsmanship. This is another thing he's always been fascinated with. As a small boy living amongst those who were unfortunate enough to be born a peasant, swords have always symbolized power. Symbolic of the knight, as a small boy they represented justice, honour, pride, strength, and nobility.

Dislikes
People that are greedy, dishonest, sadistic, apathetic, or false.
Thugs that take advantage of their strength to take from the weak.

Strengths
His magical prowess. He was conceived after the ritual between Azrael and Abaddon, during the time Azreal spent learning Abaddon's techniques. Because of this he was exposed to the magic of the God King while it was still fairly new and volatile.

His skills with a blade. He believes that the mind, body and soul are linked. Because of this, he has trained his body as vigorously as he has trained his mind and magic. One of the ways he earned money was by entering into contests of swordsmanship, and the more he won, the tougher the opponents he faced. Often after battle he'd confer with contestants that used a skill or technique he did not know, learning from them what he could. The two enchanted blades he now wields were gifts from an elven swordsman. Although he saved the man from an assassin that he had detected through magical means, he was not able to get there in time. The assassin had already hacked deep into the elf's right arm, then the left one, so that the elf could not use his sword to defend himself. Although his arms healed, he knew he would never be a swordsman again. So, he granted the dual blades he used to the man that saved his life.

Weaknesses
His magical knowledge is incomplete. Although he can pull off advance spells, there are also some very basic ones he does not know.

Those he cares about. He would do anything for them, especially his mother. She is the one person that has been there his whole life, and at times it really has been just the two of them.


ARMAMENT


He wears light armour, as shown in the picture of him. That is the exact armour he currently wears.



COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
[Above Average]Hand-to-Hand Combat: He's had more than his fair share of scuffles and bar fights.

[Perfect] Melee Combat: He is deadly with his twin blades, able to use each independently, making it very difficult for the opponent to effectively counter both of them.

[Average] Armed Combat: He can use a bow and fire a gun, but hasn't spent enough time with either to become anything special

[Excellent] Magic Combat: Powerful, but lacking in some technique

[Very Poor] Mounted Combat: He has never ridden a horse.


Natural Talent
[Excellent] Brilliant Mind He has inherited his fathers genius mind, and living by his wit has made him crafty and wily

[Good] Arcane Knowledge He has also inherited his father's insatiable hunger for magical knowledge, but has not had access to the materials he would like.

Class Skills
[Very Good] Invocation This is the only way of using magic he's ever known, as all his fathers grimoires and texts that his mother took involve it.

Spells/Powers
Terryn commands a wide range of spells found within his fathers grimoire. He loves to vary it and use new techniques.


EQUIPMENT

Items
None

Memorabilia
None, as of yet

Accessories
None

Weapon
Weapon Name: The original owner told him their elven names once, but he cannot recall it.
Weapon Type: Twin swords
Material: Unknown, but it does not appear to be a natural metal. He can sense some magic around the blades, something linking them.
Length: He's never had them measured, but estimates them to be around 3 to 4 feet.
Weight: Oddly light. They are incredibly easy to spin around him, and cut through the air, yet they seem far too durable for their weight.
Weapon Description/Info: A gift from an elven swordsman he once saved, Terryn has often wondered what the story to these blades is. He can sense the magic on them, linking the two, and wonders how difficult it might be to break them.

There are also a variety of grimoires he has memorized, that his mother brought with her when she left Azreal.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
None as of yet

Faction
The holy kingdom of Azreal

Marital Status
Single

Relatives
He knows only of his Mother, and has recently learned that his Father is the God King, Azreal.

Social Rank
Champion of several competitions, but nothing truly noteworthy, though technically he the Prince and eldest son of Azreal, and the heir to the kingdom.

Occupation
He takes a variety of jobs and competitions, earning money as he go's.

Blood Pact
His Father is in a blood pact with Abaddon

Bio/History
Son of Azreal Wynter and Winona Kiggel, conceived while his father was training to harness the power he had just gained from making a blood pact with Abaddon. His mother was shocked when she discovered what Azreal had done. She was horrified at what he was doing, what he was becoming for the sake of power. She loved him, but she would not birth a child to this madness. Whilst he was Azreal was hidden away, training himself, she left. She knew she could not go to her family, for he would look for them there, so she took enough gold and valuables to last her life and fled, going into hiding. Azreal searched in secret, but was never able to find his lost wife and first son. Unfortunately, Winona had no one to turn to. No one really to protect her. While travelling to a small, innocuous town she had chosen, she was jumped. Before she even had a chance to use it, several goons spotted some of the gold she had taken with her, and 're-appropriated' it. This left her with a far humbler outlook than she had expected. She found simple work, and she and her son lived in relative simplicity as he grew. She named him Terryn, and he reminded her so much of Azreal. He held a stunning resemblance to his father, and had his ability and keen eye for magic too. From a very young age, she taught him magic, and he ate through the grimoires she had brought with her when she left Azreal, memorizing every word on their pages. It was extremely difficult for her when Terryn was growing up. No man would have her, thinking her a witch of fell magics, and she had to fend for them both. As he grew up it became easier, for he was a diligent, hard working child. His entire life, Winona has been there for Terryn. He is now nearing 30, and has recently discovered, through scrying spells, the true identity of his father. After that, Winona told him the whole truth. Up until then she had withheld the truth of his father from him, for two reasons. Firstly, it was easier to hide if he had no idea of the truth. Secondly, she feared he would take the same path his father did, and she wants to keep him from it. Shocked at the life she gave up for him, at the hardship she faced solely for him, he has managed to talk her into coming with him to the castle as he claims his rightful place as Prince, and Heir to the Throne as his fathers eldest.


.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Fortissimo on Thu Aug 25, 2011 6:24 pm

OCTAVIN : THE GOD KING'S WAR-FORGED ADVISOR
Image
"This one will not shatter from grief or sorrow!"


PHYSICALITY

Description
A metallic man with brains as well as brawn.

Appearance
Hair: None
Facial Hair: None
Eyes: Shifts to rust orange when irritated, otherwise stays at a steady sapphire blue
Build: Slender, yet far from frail
Skin Tone: Variations of gray
Height: 6'5”
Weight: 260 lbs.
Voice: Rough and composed, it still retains a slight hollow sound
Handed: Ambidextrous, but uses left more than right
Body Markings: Runes on forehead, shoulders, hands, feet, and back
Scar Tissue: None, however, there are a few cracks in its iron skin
Unique Body Features: None, aside from the fact it is made of metal

Name
Octavin

Nickname
Cog-Head

Title
God King's Advisor

Race
War-forged

Visual Age
The wear on its body has given it a slightly ancient look

Factual Age
Unknown, supposedly two to three centuries old

Gender
None

Sexual Orientation
Asexual

Mage Ranking
Disciple

Class
Mage

Specialization
Arcane Warrior


MENTALITY

Personality
Octavin, like most other War-forged, is quiet and reserved. It rarely speaks its mind, but when it does, such words come out as sarcastic and mordant. On the outside, the creature is seemingly easy to figure out, reminiscent to those around it as a grumpy old man. Yet on the inside, a flurry of emotions rage. It is highly curious and yearns to be seen as something other than a weapon, but remains conflicted as it was created for war.

Also, despite being what it is, Octavin's mental capacity seems to grow with each passing day. It continues to learn of human characteristics and traditions, going so far as to mimic them. Its intelligence is much higher than that of a normal War-forged, thus does the God King come to it for more logical and sound reasoning.

Quirks
*Enjoys crafting items from clay, wood, and metal
*Doesn't mind being called “it”, but still thinks of itself as masculine
*Tends to refer to itself as “This one” instead of “I”

Moral Alignment
True Neutral

Virtue/Creed
“Truth is subjective, weren't you humans ever told that?”

Motivation
A never ending curiosity for the outside world

Fears
Turning against the God King, despite its strong desire to

Goal
To one day become human

Likes
+Peace and quiet
+Ancient technology
+Dwarves

Dislikes
~Meeting new people
~Those that think they are better than others
~Abaddon

Strengths
+Strong-willed
+Immune to diseases and poisons
+Physically strong

Weaknesses
~Mediocre combat skill
~Insatiable curiosity
~Would do anything for a human body


ARMAMENT

Head None


Neck Prayer beads


Chest Thigh-length tunic embroidered with runes; thin layer of chain mail


Back Mantle


Arm/Shoulder Belt lined with pockets


Right Hand Cloth wrappings; arm-guard


Left Hand Cloth wrappings; arm-guard


Right Accessory None


Left Accessory None


Waist Leather belt


Legs Knee-length, form-fitting trousers


Feet Greaves



COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat: Excellent
Octavin's main form of attack is with its fists. While it is not very agile, when it does manage a hit, it hits hard.

Melee Combat: Average
While not a favored form of combat, it can handle its own in a fight. Rather clumsy when holding anything other than a hammer.

Armed Combat: Very Poor
Little to no ability. Seeing as it doesn't have much dexterity, the creature finds it difficult just keeping a hold of the bow, much less firing it. Has a bad habit of snapping them in half, too

Magic Combat: Good
Decent by itself. Mixed in with hand-to-hand combat proves for a deadly combination.

Mounted Combat: Poor
Tends to frighten or crush the mount more often than not. Prefers having its own feet on the ground at all times.

Racial Abilities
Its iron skin gives it more durability during combat and extreme conditions

Natural Talent
Mind and Resolve – Its will remains strong, no matter the circumstance

Class Skills
Combat Magic, Indomitable Will

Spells/Powers
Arcane Shield – Generates a shield that blocks fifty percent of damage taken. Lasts ten seconds.
Shock – Hands are engulfed in elemental lightning. Only useful in close-combat, lasts for five attempted hits.
Vulnerability Hex – Calls upon a runic circle in order to further disable an enemy's defense by fifty percent. Not counting the time needed to produce the circle, the damage done lasts sixty seconds. Cannot be used with any other Spell.
Stoic – Harnesses pain and damage taken and uses it to restore strength. Lasts twenty seconds.

During any one battle, only three spells may be used.


EQUIPMENT

Items
Spell Book

Memorabilia
Small blue crystal that was a gift

Accessories
Prayer Beads

Weapon
Weapon Name: Memory Tome
Weapon Type: Spell Book
Material: Arcane Material
Ammo: None
Length: 2ft x 2ft
Weight: 3lbs.
Weapon Description/Info: A mystical book founded around the time Octavin was created. The vast majority of spells inside are defensive in nature, but there are quite a few offensive ones, as well. The creature has a strange attachment to it.



BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
None

Faction
The Holy Kingdom of Azrael

Marital Status
Single, not interested

Relatives
Pious: Creator, deceased

Origin
Created in Ashmere

Social Rank
Reeve

Occupation
Advisor, apprentice blacksmith

Blood Pact
None

Bio/History
Octavin was forged in Ashmere. While unable to determine what specific date this occurred on, it does remember its life there. Its creator – “Father”, if you would – Went by the name of Pious, and was not only a brilliant Mage, but a skilled artist, as well. His sculptures had been sought out for throughout the land, bringing quite the pretty penny along with them. He was not a greedy man, however, and had a fierce habit of giving his earnings away. The golem – Who had yet to obtain a name – Could not understand why. When the old man was already poor as dirt and nearly starved, why would he always give away what he made? Plagued by this question, the creation came to ask his creator.

Here, with a smile, the man said this: “Remember that the happiest people are not those getting more, but those giving more.”

Octavin's first life-lesson came on that day, one that told it about happiness and compassion.

The old man grew older, but the War-Forged stayed the same. As time went on, it learned about all the different things that life offered, both good and bad. It learned of death from watching a bird die in its hands; of honesty, when it tried to lie; of knowledge, from the vast amount of books and tools.

Finally, it learned of friendship.

Pious died, leaving Octavin alone. The city, in being stricken with war and famine, turned its hatred towards the golem, who had always been very different from everyone else. They had forgotten what the old man had done for them, and in turn, ruined everything he had built. Not once did the creation complain. It did not harm the villagers, or talk back to them – It just stood there and took it.

Some time passed, and the attempts to drive it from the city had been in vain. Broken and cracked – Both mentally and physically – Octavin had lost what will remained. While slumped on the side of the cobblestone road, it was soon approached by a tiny girl, no older than five. Without any fear, she took its hand, and with a smile, placed a small crystal inside. Upon remembering her similarity to Pious, the golem gained two things: Its first friend, and a memory that would never be forgotten.

Octavin now serves under the God King Azrael, however reluctant to do his bidding. It wishes that one day, it would be seen as something more than a tool for war and knowledge, though knows that time is still very far away.

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Irish Wolf on Fri Aug 26, 2011 2:33 am

William Campborn
Mercenary captain looking to make some coin


PHYSICALITY

Description
Will is a rather stocky fellow, standing about five feet and six inches tall and heavily muscled. He's not a handsome man but to say he was ugly would be untrue. The skin on his face and arms has been tanned by years out in the elements, with the rest of him being only a few shades lighter. His hands, arms, torso and legs have several dozen old scars, from where a foe got around his defenses or where a lucky archer put an arrow. His brow is also marked with an almost razor straight scar. His hair is a darkish brown, about shoulder length and tied back with a leather strap in a simple ponytail. Hard gray eyes peer over his broad nose. His best feature is his strong, square jaw. He does his best to keep shaven but most of the time the best he can do is to scrap the growing whiskers off with his knife, leaving an almost permanent five o'clock shadow on his face. Nine small silver rings are looped through his right ear and his left has a ruby stud in the earlobe.

He typically wears a red tunic, black trousers, black sword belt around his waist and leather boots that reach his caff. When heading into battle, he dons a red arming doublet, over which he wears a steel cuirass, a pair of spaulders and vambraces. Protecting his thighs are a pair of tassets and strapped over his knees are a pair of poleyns. He also wears a pair of heavy leather gloves, each with a strip of steel to protect his knuckles. All of his armor has been either scavenged from the battle field or bought piecemeal, making for each piece to have a different style and level of craftsmanship.

Appearance
Hair: Dark brown, shoulder length and tied back
Facial Hair: Stubble
Eyes:Gray
Build: Heavily muscled
Skin Tone: Tanned
Height: Five feet, six inches
Weight: Around three hundred pounds
Voice: Deep, made rough by hard drinking and shouting on the battle field
Handed: Right
Body Markings: None
Scar Tissue: Plenty
Unique Body Features:

Name
William Campborn

Nickname
That bastard, the killer

Title
Captain

Race
Human

Visual Age
40ish

Factual Age
37

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Mage Ranking
None

Class
Doppelsöldner

Specialization
Swordsmanship


MENTALITY

Personality
William likes to fight, be it a tavern brawl over women or a card game or storming a city, its all fun to him. This could be caused b his up bring in a camp full of violent of sellswords or because of how he makes his living. When his employer isn't within hearing, he can and will be crude, prone to curse, argue and free with insults (he insults both friend and foe, the difference being in his tone of voice). While fair with the company's pay and generally loved or at least respected by his troops, he will drive new recruits on with the flat of his Bilder, his fist or the heel of his boot. Like most of his troops, he's willing to take on just about anything. The only thing that turns his bowels to water, is sickness.

Quirks Don’t ever call him a dwarf, ever, if you like living


Moral Alignment
Chaotic neutral

Virtue/Creed
How much are you paying me?

Motivation
Greed, lust and love of fighting

Fears
Sickness

Goal
To make money

Likes
Gold coins
Silver coins
Bronze coins
Gems
Ale
Wine
Spirits
Women
Fights

Dislikes
Brats
New recruits
Morons
Weaklings

Strengths
His combat prowess
Sharp mind
Ruthlessness
Will to live
Will to win

Weaknesses
Bullheadness
Crippling fear of the sick


ARMAMENT

Head
None

Neck
None

Chest
Steel cuirass

Back
Steel cuirass

Arm/Shoulder
Steel spaulders and vambraces

Right Hand
Leather glove with steel strip

Left Hand
Leather glove with steel strip

Right Accessory
?

Left Accessory
?

Waist
Leather belt, bottom edge of the steel cuirass

Legs
Steel tassets and poleyns

Feet
Leather boots


COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
Excellent
Armed Combat:
Excellent
Magic Combat:
Very poor
Mounted Combat:
Poor

Natural Talent
Hard to kill

Class Skills
Skill with swords of all types
Proficient with pikes

Spells/Powers
None


EQUIPMENT

Items


Memorabilia


Accessories


Weapon
Weapon Name: Bilder
Weapon Type: kriegsmesser
Material: Enchanted steel
Ammo: none
Length: The blade is five feet long and curved.
Weight: Varies
Weapon Description/Info: An oversized kriegsmesser, a curved two-handed sword, which is called Bilder. The weapon is enchanted to feel feather light in the hands of it’s welder but strike with the force of a ten pound sledge hammer.

Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Katzbalger
Material: Steel
Ammo: None
Length: The blade is two feet five inches long
Weight: Three pounds
Weapon Description/Info: A short arming sword, with rounded tip and S shaped wire guard.

Weapon Name: None
Weapon Type: Rondel dagger
Material: Steel
Ammo: None
Length: The blade is one foot long
Weight: one pound
Weapon Description/Info: A long, slim dagger tapering into a needle point, used to stab.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation
William’s Lions

Faction
Any that can pay, currently Calvarre Rebels

Marital Status
Unmarried

Relatives
Unknown

Origin
Mercenary camp

Social Rank
Bastard son of a camp whore and a mercenary

Occupation
Mercenary captain

Blood Pact
none

Bio/History
Will was born in the camp of the mercenary band he would later command, the son of a camp follower. He never knew his father and none of the men would claim him. At about nine years of age, the mercenary captain took a shine to the young lad and took him under his wing. For almost eleven years, he served as what might be considered a page or a squire to the older warrior, learning many things, like how to write and weld a sword.

At twenty, he was made the captain’s chief lieutenant, after the company was caught out in the open and suffered heavy loses. He was given this position over older and more experienced men because of his ability to read, a level head during a fight and because Captain Olsterman believed him to be of sharp mind. This caused a deal resentment among a few of the company’s sergeants, as they believed they should have gotten promoted instead of the “whelp”.

At twenty-one, he became captain, after the former holder of that title died storming a castle. He was forced to fight an older mercenary, who believed that he should lead, rather then this young man. Needless to say, he won the fight but he had been hard pressed and gained the scar across his forehead. After his first battle as captain, it was remarked that his soldiers fought like lions, giving him the new name of his company, William's Lions.
A few years later, he came across an ogre by the name Rockjaw , which was the beginning of what might be called a friendship but most certainly a business partnership. Over the next dozen years, his personal wealth and renown grew, along with more partnerships among his fellow mercenary captains. it could be said, that he wasn't so much a simple captain anymore but more of a mercenary general. His company, the Lions, became more of a personal bodyguard of doppelsöldners, fighting under a banner surmounted with a rearing red lion on a field of black. Recently, he and his company have arrived in Cam Lire, chasing after tales of trouble and war, seeking employment.

With the failure of his contact on Cam Lire to show himself, William sacked a smallish town and marched towards to the coast. On the way, he took shelter inside a rebel fortress and after accepting an offer for a job, was trapped in Calvarre but an orc besieging force. With the disappearance of the rebel leader, William has assorted his right to lead the defense of the fortress.

Rumors claim more mercenaries are waiting on the borders of the empire of the Godking or sitting on ships out to sea, awaiting a signal from William.

.
Last edited by Irish Wolf on Sat Sep 17, 2011 10:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Its easy to be brave behind a castle wall
Twelve highlanders and a bagpipe make a rebellion
A king's son is no nobler then the food he eats

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Re: [OOC] Character Directory

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Yonbibuns on Fri Aug 26, 2011 9:06 am

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"Opportunity makes a thief."


B a s i c s

Name: Caspian Sterling
Birth Name: Unknown
Common Alias: Silver-tongue
Nickname: Cassy, Silk
Title: Quondam serf; former Peasant, currently Empress Shar's prisoner
Race: Wood Elf
Visual Age: 27
Factual Age: 387
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Class: Rogue
Specialization: Assassin

Physical Description

High cheekbones, slopping nose and hawkish features; Caspian's Elven lineage is quite obvious. Soldiering has left him with salient muscles, contrasting against his slender frame and sharp qualities he's attained from his Elven kin. Slavery has left him with protruding, gangly ribs and knobby elbows; shallow cheeks and weary eyes. His former master had the pointed ulna of his elbow broken and repaired, making them appear considerably more sharp and intimidating, and lending him devilish properties he never asked for. The Empress once told him that it made him appear more like her revered race, the Hellbourne. He begged to differ. Fair-skinned with a generous amount of freckles smattering across his lean shoulders and lower back, he has a clearly youthful complexion at first glance, given his age; but hard, somber times filled with overly suspicious nights, has given him a more serious, reproachful look. Puckered pink scars cover most of his well-muscled body: some from battles, some from women, and a few from his days suffering the tortures of slavery. His master was none too kind to any of her humble servants, often utilizing her long, alluring claws to wreak havoc on their backs; Caspian was spared none of this. Bereft of his leathers, the disfigurements scrawled across his tattoo and shoulder blades is a painful reminder that he might've been better off keeping his damned mouth shut. His forearms are haphazardly scarred, uneven lines criss-crossing the surface. Some are light and long whereas others are much deeper, indicating lengthy periods of abuse. Another distinguishing marking of note are the two mottled markings pursed against his hips, indicating where a hot rod might've burnt him; leaving scrawled spider-web patterns. When asked by whomever may have seen him invulnerably nude, Caspian will dive headlong into exaggerated stories involving a sell-sword past and telltale accounts of when he travelled with outlandish mountain men. He walks with a very convincing feigned limp in his left leg to back this up. He rarely, if ever, walks normally. Half sauntering gait, half swaggering missteps.

His almond-shaped eyes are like silk spun gold, with amber flecks surrounding his pupils. There are dark shadows beneath his eyes, betraying his poor sleeping habits. His eyes are quite heavy-lidded, and usually half closed, making his default expression one of sleepiness; however, if he deigns to open his eyes properly he can have quite a piercing stare. They seem to be forever affixed into narrowed slits, giving him the appearance of mischievousness or maybe, it's just too damn sunny out. Either way, even if he doesn't deem it necessary to open his eyes wider than a hairs breadth, he isn't afraid to look you in the eyes. His eyes can sparkle with mischief or smolder with barely suppressed anger, but underneath it all is a coldness that belies his determination to do whatever is necessary to remain free and in control. Whether or not you think he's paying attention; he is watching, always. The Elf has pale blond hair the color of baked straw, and with the splendor of soft silk; he is sure to keep it healthy and oiled, perfumed with the most prestige products he's pinched in the marketplace. It's length cascades down to his shoulder blades, giving him more of a feminine appearance than he'd like—which his traveling companions seem anxious to remind him. More often than not, it is pulled back in a decorated ponytail, tied with bits of leather. Heavy bangs fall on one side of his face; they are something he is in the process of growing out so it will not be in his line of sight any longer. He tires of scooping it from his face. His thin eyebrows are a few shades darker than his hair, often knit in accustomed worry. A healthy specimen by any means, Caspian is desperately trying to regain his countenance by eating bigger portions of food, and working himself like a dog—which isn't to say that he doesn't enjoy the finer things in life, because by the God's, he does.

The Elf has a very subtle lilt to his voice, the barest remnants of an accent he has tried to mask since leaving the disgusting ramparts he'd rather not call home. His control over his drawling accent will occasionally slip when he's feeling overly passionate, happy, or flustered. Unlike some of his brethren, he was able to keep his elongated ears, if not missing a few notches from his left. Both are pierced with two golden hoops set with different stones; signifying important kills.

Appearance

Hair: Pale blond
Eyes: Golden
Build: Lithe and slender, with clearly defined muscles strewn across his body. With the moxie of a well-fed predator, his past malnourishment can still be acknowledged by his protruding ribcage and knobby elbows. He's still working on gaining all of his weight back.
Skin Tone: Fair
Height: 5'5”
Weight: 160lbs
Voice: Deep, euphonious voice that borders on the line of severe sarcasm, and all of it acutely intended. He really, really doesn't care whether or not you agree with his opinions—and you can tell, just by listening to the lilting purr that escapes his scarred throat. His native accent has been long lost living amongst humans, and has been replaced with a generalized drawl, sometimes tainted by more cultured pronunciations.
Handed: Ambidextrous
Body Markings: Elves have always had strong beliefs in painting their bodies, believing that whatever pictures are drawn onto their skin represents a part of their inner selves. Caspian is no different, though he prefers the aesthetic appeal: spiralling vines whip around his biceps. He also has a gnarled tree imprinted on his back, signifying a forgotten life he's not likely to remember.
Scar Tissue: Over the years of his erstwhile captivity, he's acquired a rather significant collection of scars—some new, some old—, scrawled across his legs, neck, feet and arms. The most prominent disfigurements are the ones circling his ankle and wrists, forming puckered, star-shaped symbols that signified his status as a city serf; the only indication that he once belonged to a magistrate noble.
Unique Body Features: Like all of his Elven kin; he has elongated ears—decorated with silver hoops—and a slender build. However there is something unusual to note, his master severed his left leg from the knee down and in its' place constructed a singular set of gleaming auto-mail with magical incantations, limiting his chances of escape. If he wandered too far, his master had the option of sending electrical shocks through his body. Paying pain, gaining obedience. It would often leave him debilitated. Thankfully, after the escape, the pains have stopped; the distance between his master and the device directly affects its' capabilities and renders it useless if he's not in range. Caspian's also missing the pinky finger on his left hand, the only remains is the knobby stub.



M o u n t


Appearance
Hair: Copper
Eyes: Black
Height: 15.5 hands (average)
Weight: 710lbs (average)
Body Markings: Creme-coloured fur on stomach; white muzzle
Scar Tissue: Patches of fur missing around left ankle, markings from a hunters' trap
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Name: Illieus
Nickname: Ill
Race: Elk/Ibex
Age: 7
Gender: Male; bull

Abilities/Skills Running; sprinting; jumping across far distances; climbing rough terrain; calm in most situations; obedient; offers wry companionship; intelligent; vast stamina; and compliments the roguish elf nicely.

Equipment A soft hornless saddle with little more than comfortable padding and old scraps of chiseled leather; no stirrups, only dragging straps of leather; an old tack nicked from a traveller, with heavy Dwarven influences on the designs; a satchel of rations and herbs, nestled around a flask full of strong liquors; and a short, serrated dagger cleverly tucked into the saddle.
Accessories Two silver hoops wound around his right antler, mimicking Caspian's own piercings.

Bio/History
It might've only been luck that brought them together, binding their fates. It might've been purely dumb luck. Either way, their meeting had been one of chance; a tale of death and life, and rescues. Caspian was always fond of travelling the woods, hoping to hear his blade sing against mountain men and thieves. On one particular day, he found himself following a pained bugling coming from the underbrush, a sound so sad that he found he had no choice but to stumble along the beaten path. A heavy animals tracks pushed through the sucking mud; his guesses was that some hunter or anger had found his prey, and with this knowledge, he continued on. He entered the thick of the forest, and stumbled onto a stricken deer, its' foot caught in a cleverly hidden trap.

The small creature was kicking his lean legs desperately, trying to tear his foot from its' shackles. Something rang familiar in the Wood Elf—perhaps it was the kinship he felt with nature, or a deeper recognition—, so he freed the Ibex from his trap, and whispered soothingly to him. In that moment, unbeknown of what he'd done, the young Ibex began following Caspian. His company wasn't completely unwelcome either, it was rather pleasant. Every time he set down to camp, the snorting creature sidled a few paces away and slept along with him. Come morning, the curious creature would rise and follow him again.

Soon enough, he'd decided on a spirit name: Illieus, and thus began their adventures together. Most of his kin preferred large felines as opposed to horses for mounts, though Caspian thought differently. He couldn't have asked for a more loyal steed. Not only that, they've become good friends.




P e r s o n a l i t y


The epitome of skill is to win without fighting, and that is exactly what the Wood Elf aims for. Taught in the skills of battle by an old wiry water dancer, Caspian is merely acting upon he has learned, yet they are not the same. He doesn’t shun battle like his mentor had, instead he enjoys the thrill of gutting the life out of someones body. However, he does this with a certain degree of calculated, repressed aggression. He knows when to fight and when to quietly disappear, and thus finds himself often on the winning side. Using his extraordinary intelligence for anything that benefits him, some people may peg him as a slippery one. Being a bad loser, Caspian is usually on the prowl, using every resource available to him to harm those whom he considers to be his enemies. As for those who he considers to be his friends, he's just as vicious to prove his loyalty. It isn't often that someone can admit to such a feat, as he prefers the quiet companionship his mount, Illieus, offers. All of his brooding negligence aside, Caspian's quite likeable. Cunning, witty, and charming, he adopts whichever personality pleases him. He'll do whatever he can to evade his captors, and tastes freedom.

Being brought up in the steel grip of slavery, the young man has constantly been fed the concept of: the weak are fodder for the strong, an analogy comparing defeat to victory. Because of this, Caspian has centred himself around being all things opposite of weak and its synonyms. Strong, Elite, Powerful: those are probably the three words that he centres himself around, in terms of surviving, which relates back to the analogy earlier. Brought up with the attitude of his cruel master, if the he ever found himself in a position where he could be deemed “weak”, or “unworthy” (or was faced with having his freedom stripped away)—per say , there is no doubt that he would do anything to increase his skills, which could range from all types of things, such as: agonizing training to get stronger, or simply eliminating the threat—permanently. Weakness isn't an option, and neither is being condemned to slavery. Whatever the costs, he'll make sure that he doesn't have shackles around his wrists anymore.

Independence: it is something that he yearns, craves for. He needs it. He doesn’t mind following another being, as long as he has a decent amount of freedom and power. In all honesty, Caspian feels that he flourishes best when there are no boundaries, but even then the aid of leadership can often keep him in line from doing “stupid“ things, otherwise keeping his rather chaotic lifestyle far more stable than usual. To put it simply, Caspian likes the idea of being a leader, having his own freedom to do as he wishes, but has come to savour the idea that being strong, with an ally of the same calibre ( or slightly lower/higher) is the best way to go about life. If it wasn’t apparent, Caspian is very confident in himself (despite his arduous past), and can often be deemed a rather prideful being. He has a disturbing lack of personal morals, and shares few convictions and generally doesn't believe in an overall morality in the world.

Also, behind his calm visage is a very depressed persona, though he hides it well, it still eats at him. This is a result from the memories of his childhood, and his inability to put them at rest. He's generally laid back in tight situations, either from his broken psyche or his Elven lineage, no one can be entirely sure. While everyone else panics, he's quietly contemplating on what he should do next, which opportunity to take. However, he's easily goaded into anger if his strong opinions are being undermined; if his freedom is being threatened; or his friends' lives are at stake. In spite of his usually collected personality, he has an uncanny ability to perceive people's attitudes and motivations. He picks up on little cues which go completely unnoticed by most other people, such as facial expressions and stance.

He would maintain that he is a callous bastard and totally untrustworthy, and this is probably true. Honesty has been something of a sore spot for him, he wouldn't hesitate to admit that it isn't the brightest idea to place your life in his hands. His fingers seem to be in everyone's pie, and he's astout at getting what he wants. Though usually completely self-serving he is occasionally prone to performing random acts of heroism, either in an attempt to atone for past wrongdoing or, more likely, as another side effect of his impulsive nature. Though his moral code may be questionable at best there are certain lines that he will not cross. For example he will not willingly harm an innocent, though who counts as such may be up for debate. If one were to attack him first though, the notion of mercy would be thrown out the window.

Moral Alignment Chaotic Neutral

Quirks Gives everyone he meets obnoxious nicknames, just to see how they'll react; Often finishes his sentences with, “Yeah?” or “No?”; Thumbs his earlobe when he's lying; His ears express what he's really thinking, more than he'd care to admit; Hoards things; Can mimic accents quite well; Poor sense of direction, so he's found wandering through odd places, and refuses to ask for aid; He has a habit of making sarcastic and outrageous comments, and of avoiding direct questions, not out of a desire to conceal information but simply to irritate the asker; Feels comfortable leaving his hand lingering over the blade of his hilt, even if its' considered rude or threatening; Often talks to Illieus, and includes the elk in events far more than his humanoid companions; Enjoys calling women, “Kitten,” or “Ducky.”

Fears
Captivity
Being recognized
Empress Shar
Lightning
Weakness
Failure
Broken fingers
His assets being threatened

Goal
Ultimately, Caspian's goal is to kill his Hellbourne master, Empress Shar, and end his own plight. Nothing else matters until he kills the one who holds his life in her palm, not even the ever-threatening God King. Perhaps after he's finished, he'll find a new goal. He has troubles seeing anything further than his present score.

Likes
His faithful steed, Illieus
Large ships
Open fields
Improving his swordsmanship
Showing off his abilities
Stealing from nobles
Exotic foods
Women and men
Taverns
Silence
Wildlife
Silken sheets

Dislikes
Loud-mouths
The God King
Senseless violence
Sloppy fights
Foul-tasting food
Lack of liquor
Anyone holier-than-thou
Preaching
City Guards

Strengths
Dexterity; acrobatics; agility; sleight of hand; quick feet; stealth; swordsmanship and flexibility.

Weaknesses
Overconfidence; Suffers Hyperopia (Farsightedness), making it hard to fight at close-range, even though its' his preferred means of combat; Cannot turn down a good romp; Extremely susceptible to seduction; His auto-mail is as much of a bane as it is a gift, it pains him since its' upkeep has been less than favourable.



C o m b a t P r o w e s s

Abilities & Skill & Combat Rating

[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]

Clothing/Armor
[Poor] Shedding his Elven lineage, Caspian has only started to introduce leathers into his usually drab clothing. His clothes offer a strange mixture of Human influence, as well as Wood Elven ascendancy: black, fitted knee breeches, tucked into high-topped leather boots; an ornate, beautifully-crafted Elven vest with copper trimming, complimented by a lower layer of green; a matching green sash with small minerals attached, gilded in gold; two leather bracers with steel hand guards. And at times, he wears an Elven helmet which circles around his ears and ponytail. His outfit is subject to change, for he needs to blend in with the crowd. If the situation allowed, he'd prefer to travel bare-chested. He isn't a fan of chilly weather, so in cold weather he also wears a thick hooded cloak of dark green wool; if one were perspective, they could catch sight of the small clasp clipped at his throat, displaying his rogue banner. Crimson on black with a golden gnarled tree, a waxed moon in it's background.

Combat Prowess
[Excellent] He is an extreme combat pragmatist and in a fight will use anything and everything available to give himself the advantage. He is a passable archer, but his favoured weapon are his blades. His twin blades are like extensions of his own arms, and his senses are heightened beyond their normal capacity, providing quick reflexes that could surprise the most graceful predator. Having been taught to move with the fluidity of water by his late mentor, the Water Dancer, he's become a sort of prodigy when it comes to bladed combat. Now, he isn't made from brute strength, so he falters against stronger foes, but rather relies on his speed and sleight of hand to gain access to fleshy parts of the body. He uses his natural speed and dexterity to his advantage and, after countless fights and extensive experience at not dying, has picked up a good familiarity with the most effective places to stick a blade. If he feels truly outclassed by an opponent then he will try to avoid a fight or, lacking that option, will not hesitate to run away at the cost of his dignity.

Abilities
[Excellent] His main abilities focus on espionage, commerce and theft, often engaging in them simultaneously, though he's also an acrobat and an assassin when the situation demands it. As quick as he's able to slip your purse from your belt, his quick-thinking competency offers several opportunities to escape unnoticed. It's been the only talent that's kept him alive thus far.

Spells
[Very Poor] Caspian has no knowledge of the arts of magic, and has no desire to learn it. He seems to be prejudiced towards those who use it, deeming them too dangerous for their own good.

Skills
[Good] He can pick locks with great skill, as well as incapacitate enemies with ease, and disappear just as quickly. As most rogues are, Caspian is efficient and flexible with any blade he sets his hands on, as well as bows and daggers; his downfall is wielding anything that weighs him down, anything that hampers his speed renders him useless. His marksmanship is impressive by all accords, presumably an inherited skill from his Elven brethren, so he doesn't shy away from using his longbow. Truthfully, it's the only means of eating when his purse is empty. The Water Dancer has taught him the art of deception when it comes to donning different disguises, and using that silver tongue of his to sway the hearts of men and women alike, both of which he seems adept at. Acrobatics has snaked its' way into the Wood Elves' heart, he practices each day to become better—it's proven it's worth, whether he uses it to scale walls and buildings, or to outrun furious guards.



E q u i p m e n t


Weapon
Weapon Name: Ramshackle and Lazarus
Weapon Type: Duel Scimitars
Material: Dwarven Red Steel
Length: 30 cm
Weight: 9.kg ea.
Weapon Description/Info: They both have thin, curving blades which makes it ideal for quick slashing attacks. Scimitars naturally don't pack the punch of longer swords or other, heavier weapons, but are easier to hit vital areas with than most blades—compliment his quick hands and feet. The craftsmanship of both blades are distinctly Elven, and appear to be forged from one piece of burnished steel. The hilt of the sword is longer than normal and gently twists, creating a good gripping surface. It has no quillons (meaning there is no cross guard), and holds an opal-shaped eye in the middle, reflecting light whenever the sun kisses it. Runes are etched into the blade, offering mild protection from deceptive spells.

Weapon Name: Shardikat
Weapon Type: Longbow
Material: Elder Oak Wood
Ammo: Ebony Arrows
Length: 72"
Weight: 35 lbs
Weapon Description/Info: Accompanying his favourite blades, Caspian has a strong longbow crafted by the Elves of Treefall. It's a beautifully crafted Elven bow made of polished woods and elder oaks. Though highly decorated, Elven crafters gave the bow metal inlays without sacrificing rate of fire and accuracy, which gives him the option to fend off attacks in close range. He keeps his bow, along with it's arrows, nestled tightly in his leather quiver slung comfortably across his back. He named the bow, “Shardikat.” If asked, he'll say that he found the name from a buxom young vixen he met at particularly ratty-looking tavern.

Weapon Name: Ra'al Needles
Weapon Type: Throwing Blades
Material: Steel
Length: 9” each
Weight: 3.2 lbs each
Weapon Description/Info: Each small dagger is essentially a thin, hollow needle hidden within the blade that could be filled with a myriad of poisons. He has an arsenal of personal poisons he's bartered from shoddy-looking individuals, pilfered from black markets, or stolen from casks on wayward ships. Ground algal blooms, otherwise known as “red tides” seems to be his favourite, though he's been known to get creative with caster oil, nightshade plants, rosary pea seeds, and water hemlock with it's purple-striped leaves. A tiger snake's venom has also never failed his causes, nor has the Belcher's sea snake; both shipped from the Southern regions.

Items
His Satchel – this is normally the only thing he carries with him asides from his weapons, a “bag of wonders” as he likes to call it, which carries almost everything a traveller needs. Whether it be potions, tools, herbs, or even dried
 animal parts, Caspian makes use of every centimetre of space.
Dried Foods – most of Caspians' food supplies is tucked into his leather satchel. Whether they are some sort of dried meats which have been sitting there for days (or weeks), or dried cuts of fruit or desert roots. They are vital on long treks across plains, deserts or treks in the city;
Empty/Full Flasks – carrying flasks containing his own concoctions (primarily herbal potions, alcohol, water, specific types of herbs which need to be kept fresh), and empty flasks for him to make his own sort of concoctions on-the-go, these curved glass bottles normally are surrounded by extra cloth or the stringy bark of palm trees in order to make them less prone to breaking;
Animal Skin Water Pouch – without much a need for description, he carries a skin pouch full of fresh spring water over his shoulder, which he always ends up refilling at every spring. With a useful neck stopper, it doesn't spill. Its importance is beyond words.
[i]Empty/Full Vials –[/i] a great fan of poisons, Caspian collects what he can from nature, ranging from: poisonous mushrooms, poisonous flowers, and materials collected from animals that can paralyse, stun, render someone unconscious or prove to be fatal.

Accessories
Small earrings; a variety of silver hoops and sometimes, a tattered bandana of deep, silken colours. It looks like a woman's favour, or token, but none can be too sure.



H i s t o r y


Group Affiliation
Syndicates Hand; Hired Mercenaries and Thieves
The Fine Flagon; Hired Assassins

Faction
Grand Union of You

Marital Status
Unwed; loves frivolously.

Relatives
Unknown; believed to be deceased.

Residence
Illumine; the Fine Flagon, a tavern on the north-end.

Social Rank
None, he's an “escaped serf.”

Occupation
Opportunist

Bio/History
“If you wish to hear my long-winded tale, then search me out in the nearest tavern and buy me a drink. I prefer chilled cider, but any ale will do. Maybe then, I'll wag my tongue a little.”


Caspians' first memory consists of being held by a beautiful woman with long ears. He remembers a whole family of funny-eared people (much like his own), but is unsure what happened to them. He remembers a great fire, and then darkness, perhaps sickness—something terrible in any case, and then a deep, resounding sadness. Far too young to understand what was happening to his kinsman, the next thing he remembers is being held by rough, calloused hands and peering into the darkest, abysmal eyes he'd ever seen. Unlike his pointy-eared family, this man's ears were jagged; they were crude and had notches missing from the top. There was a jade earring set into the mans' earlobe that meant far more than he'd ever understand, especially at such a tender age. The man was but an ugly servant to the one woman he would grow to fear. Empress Shar had once said that it was far more substantial to “get them while they were young,” so that they could be moulded into proper-acting servants, with sufficient manners. The words “slave,” nor “serf,” were never used in the audacious household. The Wood Elf was ironically coined, “the honourable servant,” even if he was treated as little more than the dirt beneath their feet. This was his home, his shelter; Caspian knew nothing else. Cruelty was his sanction.

Not much else is known about Caspian's past, not even he knows where he hailed from. All of his memories offer little comfort; blurred faces, long-eared folks and a tragedy. Beyond that, nothing. His past is complex, yet not unique. Many elves had been taken into slavery as the God King pushed through their forests, forcing those they captured to suffer lives with no chance of freedom. Elves played no role in the God King's eyes.

Unmentionable details later, and Caspian's a free man on the run—evading city guards, as well as anyone who may have seen his poorly drawn posters nailed to merchant doors and buildings. A few have even found themselves around the taverns, which he's still managed to frequent. He carried only a satchel of a meagre goods and a little bit of coin. Soon his dreams met reality and he found not only racism, but also very little work. Alone and living in a small, beaten shack; he was losing coin just as quickly as he was losing hope. It was then that the Water Dancer found him. He might've said it was the other way around, but no—it was the wiry old man who stumbled onto his sorry excuse for a life, pulled him from the darkness and offered him something much more. A reason. Surprising to find out that the elderly man was one of the First Generals of the City Guard, and a master swordsman. Many a times, a harsh lesson had been taught at those crinkled hands, and all of them for the better.

What has become of Caspian, the escaped serf?

She still seeks him, and he knows. And he hides. It's a sour game of cat and mouse they play.
Ambar: Snow & Ash
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"For these words, he won't come around here,
and his eyes won't see."

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Yonbibuns
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