Fantasy Champions of the Divine [CS]

[Solirus]

Note: Feel free to add anything else into the Character sheet.
Special thanks to Juju for help with the Code

Character Sheet

• Base
• Appearance
• Persona
• Abilities
• Divine Patron

• Base
  Name:
  
  Aliases: (What others may call them or titles they have)
  
  Race:
  
  Age: (How old are they, shouldn't be younger than 18)
  
  Gender/pronouns:
  
  Divine Patron:
  
  *Theme:
  
• Appearance
  Appearance: (Please use a non realistic image that isn't part of well known media as a FC)
  
  *Appearance Description: (Optional: If you wish to describe more about the character that the image doesn't show or provide)
  
  Height:
  
  Weight:
  
  Eye color:
  
  Hair color:
  
  Scars/Tattoos/Birthmarks:
  
• Persona
  Personality: (What sort of individual are they)
  
  Likes:
  
  Dislikes:
  
  Fears:
  
  Strengths: (What are traits about their character that may are good and beneficial to themselves and others around them)
  
  Flaws: (What are traits about their character that may be negative or even harmful to themselves and those around them)
  
  Bio/Backstory: (Where are they from, what was their previous life, how did they end up as a slave?)
  
• Abilities
  Stats: (starting stats are distributed between 1-5 (1: Very poor, 2: Below average, 3: Average, 4: Above Average, 5: Exceptional), characters have 15 points to spend on their stats, with the base stats all being 1s and needing only 1 point to increase given stats. Players may also decrease a singular stat to 0 in exchange for getting 16 points to spread between the stats.)
  
  Physical: (Attributes pertaining to the Body)
  
  • Strength: (Physical might of an individual, how hard do they hit, how much can they carry, How high can they jump...)
  • Vitality: (Physical endurance of an individual, how much they can be hit, how much stamina and endurance they have, how resilient they are to substances...)
  • Agility: (The flexibility of an individual, the speed at which they move, the precision of their movements and actions whether pickpocketing or aiming an arrow...)
  Mental: (Attributes pertaining to ones mind and psyche. These stats also determine what sorts of magic one may be able to wield)
  
  • Wisdom: (Awareness of one's surroundings through common sense or perception, a characters ability for intuition and understanding, the strength of willpower a character holds...)
  • Intelligence: (The ability to conceptualize abstract concepts, the amount knowledge a character may acquire and interpret, the ability to process information and develop conclusions and logical solutions...)
  • Charisma: (The presence an individual has on others, their ability to inspire and to terrify, the capability to persuade and to deceive others, the art of creating friendships, followers, and rivals...)
  Magical: (Attributes pertaining to one's magical capabilities and potential)
  
  • Potency: (The amount of magic an individual may release from their body, the devastation of a spell or the power of a cure that one may manifest through magic...)
  • Affinity: (The amount of magical energy within a body, the resistance one has over the magical whether harmful or deceiving, a reservoir of which if emptied the very life of the individual would be used to fuel the magic...)
  
  Skills: (What is your character particularly or specifically good at, these skills should make sense with the stats above)
  
  Magic: (What sort of magic do they know if any? Discuss this with me before adding it.)
  
  Divine Boons: (The boon/power granted to them by their divine patron, check with me to discuss this one specifically)
  
• Divine Patron
  Name:
  
  Aliases:
  
  Gender/Pronouns:
  
  Domains:
  
  Motive for choosing their champion:
  
  Appearance: (A god may have many forms, as such you may either put only a single form or several)
  
  *Appearance Description:
  
  Personality:
  
  Likes:
  
  Dislikes:
  
  Bio/Backstory:
  
  *Theme:
  

 

[YsFanatic]

Character Sheet

• Base
• Appearance
• Persona
• Abilities
• Divine Patron

• Base
  Name: Vanessa
  
  Aliases: N/A
  
  Race: Human
  
  Age: 32
  
  Gender/pronouns: Female, She/Her
  
  Divine Patron: Kassa the Cursed
  
  
• Appearance
  Appearance:
  
  
  Height: 5 foot 4 inches
  
  Weight: 119 pounds
  
  Eye color: Starts off as green, but after gaining the first boon they turn purple.
  
  Hair color: Red
  
  Scars/Tattoos/Birthmarks: No major ones, has a few small scars scattered around on her limbs and hands.
  
• Persona
  Personality: As being a former street kid and then later married to a guard, Vanessa has an usual ability of being able to understand and relate to the difficulties of both groups and would often try to smooth things over between them in Kadary so there wouldn't be any trouble, or at least less trouble. When possible she enjoyed finding ways to help the kids find a way to make an honest living. Utterly devoted to her husband, her memories of their time together are the most important things in the world to her.
  
  Having learned how to trust others, Vanessa is now a fairly friendly person, to most people. Those who treat orphans and street kids badly are forever on her shit list however.
  
  If you steal from her, she's gonna steal it back. Was a bit of a game she'd play with the Kadary street kids, and she'd reward their efforts with food. Made the guards and other people happy as it kept them from stealing their stuff instead.
  
  Likes: Having a safe place to sleep, little bits of harmless chaos, memories of her husband, making sure orphan kids are taken care of
  
  Dislikes: Working with delicate fabrics and impractical clothing, selfish lords/nobles, sweet foods (but will eat chocolate in memory of her husband), being alone
  
  Fears: Biggest fear is losing her and Derrick's wedding rings
  
  Strengths: While Vanessa has gotten used to be around people and working together with them on tasks, she's very much capable of working alone as needed, comfortable and skilled with navigating city streets and talking to people, good at conserving money
  
  Flaws: Ignorant of most wilderness things, doesn't pay attention to politics, has no combat experience or skills
  
  Bio/Backstory: Vanessa's earliest memories are that of being a street orphan, being forced to steal from others as part of the local thieves' guild in order to survive. In time she would be regarded as skilled and loyal enough to be taught the guild's favored thieving spell, False Hands. However, she was not loyal and had been looking for a way out for years. In time the young woman, despite knowing the wrath she risked from the guild, betrayed them and handed over all the information she had to the town guard. Once the info was verified and the guard raided the locations, there was the question as to what to do with her. One of the guards, Derrick, sensing that Vanessa sincerely wanted to turn her life around and that the guild would want payback, took her to the town of Kadary, located in the more distant reaches of the Mathean Empire.
  
  There she was giving a chance to learn a trade and live an honest life. While she didn't have much of the way in natural talent with it, Vanessa greatly enjoyed sewing and tailoring and was skilled enough to be a useful assistant to the local tailor. While the guard originally stuck around just to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't turn back to thieving, the two ended up growing close and getting married. For over a decade they enjoyed a peaceful and joyous life, but then he came down with a sickness that could not be cured by the local healer. Wanting to at least provide him with some comfort in his last days, Vanessa had gone out to purchase some chocolate, a rarity and thus delicacy in these parts, only to find that the new town lord that had just arrived had bought it all. Thinking that as a wife of one of the town guards that he might be willing to part with a small piece or two, she went to petition the lord. But she was immediately denied.
  
  For being robbed of a chance to share one last happy moment with her love, Vanessa decided on some petty revenge after her husband died. For the next month she either sabotaged or stole every piece of chocolate that entered the lord's manor, robbing him of the same pleasure that he had denied her husband. When they finally figured out who was doing it, they found her visiting Derrick's grave and placing the most recently stolen package of chocolate at the gravestone. She did not resist capture as she figured that knowing a number of the guards through her husband would get some leniency. But she didn't expect the thieves' guild to find her and take advantage of this situation by releasing information about her criminal past to the lord. This guaranteed that she ended up being reduced to a slave instead of the lighter punishment she expected.
  
  But Vanessa could be patient, she would find a chance to escape and then... and then she didn't know. Not yet anyway.
  
• Abilities
  Stats: (starting stats are distributed between 1-5 (1: Very poor, 2: Below average, 3: Average, 4: Above Average, 5: Exceptional), characters have 15 points to spend on their stats, with the base stats all being 1s and needing only 1 point to increase given stats. Players may also decrease a singular stat to 0 in exchange for getting 16 points to spread between the stats.)
  
  Physical: (Attributes pertaining to the Body)
  
  • Strength: 2
  • Vitality: 3
  • Agility: 5
  Mental: (Attributes pertaining to ones mind and psyche. These stats also determine what sorts of magic one may be able to wield)
  
  • Wisdom: 4
  • Intelligence: 3
  • Charisma: 3
  Magical: (Attributes pertaining to one's magical capabilities and potential)
  
  • Potency: 1
  • Affinity: 2
  
  Skills: (What is your character particularly or specifically good at, these skills should make sense with the stats above)
  Stealth: As a necessity of her childhood, Vanessa has developed excellent sneaking skills and has some experience with disguising herself. Her disguising ability was hampered by a lack of resources when she was younger, some money and time she could likely do a better job. For stealth, she is skilled at both using the terrain and shadows to hide and just blending in with a crowd to lose pursuit or avoid attention.
  
  Thieving: Lockpicking, picking pockets, putting stuff in people's pockets, swiping stuff when no one is looking, escaping guards, all things she has become quite skilled at.
  
  Sewing: Mediocre skill/talent with sewing and tailoring. Enough to handle basic tasks/repairs and to be an assistant to someone else on more complex tasks.
  
  Magic:
  False Hands (Glamour spell): A fairly basic glamour that can be used to alter how one's hands look as well as that of a small object they are holding. Useful when attempting to steal small items, sneak in lockpicks and other such tools, and/or to make one's hands appear fitting for the disguise the caster is attempting to use (for example, hiding callouses or recent injuries if pretending to be a clerk).
  
  Divine Boons
  Curse of the Wraith: In ancient times in a kingdom plagued by rampant curses, a being seemingly born of such energy appeared. While it would eat other curses, it seemed to lack intelligence and would attack things regardless if they were afflicted with a curse or not. As this creature, which came to be known as the Wraith, rampaged across the land it was discovered to the people's horror that the curses it devoured were added to its own power and that they had no way to stop it. While the problem of curses being everywhere was indeed solved by the Wraith, it had also destroyed the kingdom in the process before vanishing.
  
  Now Vanessa has been 'gifted' an incomplete version of the curse. It taking root in her body helps shield her from being afflicted by other curses, but its main benefit is the short claws that her nails have transformed into. These nails are as sharp as an animals, perfectly suited for slicing flesh, but is not able to inflict any actual damage on harder substances like stone or metal. However, this change has changed the color of her hands and eyes to a dark purple, potentially drawing unwanted attention to her.
  
• Divine Patron
  Name: Kassa
  
  Aliases: Lord of Curses, the Cursed God
  
  Gender/Pronouns: Male He/Him
  
  Domains
  Major: Curses
  Minor: Obfuscation
  
  Motive for choosing their champion: Her month long spree of denying Kadary's lord of the joy of chocolate was highly amusing to Kassa. But more importantly he saw someone in need of a purpose in life and possessing a skill set that might be useful for what he wanted to offer her, should she survive the contest mentally sound.
  
  Appearance:
  
  
  Yes I used one of my cats for this.
  
  *Appearance Description: No mortal alive today has any idea what Kassa looks like as he always uses disguises when communicating with them. This has however given rise to some silly claims, like one person swearing that their bedroom window is actually Kassa.
  
  Personality: Unlike what the titles given to him suggest, Kassa's primary role in the world is to keep the amount of curses under control, a task he enjoys. For him the war of the gods was a terrible time as all the negative emotions involved caused a massive increase in curses on their own, nevermind the ones being made and spread around as weapons. As all of this meant that instead of enjoying his work, it became more of a frustrating and stressful experience as his efforts were not always enough to prevent a deadly outbreak of one or more curses from happening.
  
  Takes an interest in any curses the other gods may make, usually trying to get involved in the process somehow so he can make sure he knows how it works, and if the curse is alarming enough to him then Kassa will try to sneak in some kind of failsafe without them knowing.. That way if it becomes a problem he can more easily put a stop to it.
  
  Will coordinate with Thun if he needs to do something out of the ordinary to make sure there are no problems.
  
  Is vengeful against any mortals that manage to kill one of his wraiths.
  
  Likes: Breaking troublesome curses, designing complicated curses (Its like a puzzle!), the order imposed by the Arbiter on the gods, peaceful times, and mortals that can pull off something amusing right under someone else's nose without being noticed.
  
  Dislikes: The possibility of the world ending, boredom, people thinking that he wants the world covered in curses (though he does enjoy designing them, just doesn't them ruining the world!)
  
  Bio/Backstory: During the War of the Gods, Kassa's primary objective was to stay out of the way as much as possible and keep the build up of curses under control. With everything that was going on however, he wasn't always successful in preventing an outbreak, but he would take action to stop the outbreaks as soon as possible. As such it was a relief when the Arbiter, Thun, showed up and put a stop to the war.
  
  In today's world he usually gets to take a more laid back approach to keeping curses under control, which lets him pay more attention to the actions of mortals themselves, sometimes using a disguise to observe them from close up.
  
  

 

[Juju]

Character Sheet

• Base
• Appearance
• Persona
• Abilities
• Divine Patron

• Base
  Name: Ophelia Gorrman
  
  Aliases: "Opi", "Lili"
  
  Age: 18
  
  Gender/pronouns: Female/she/her
  
  Divine Patron: Chimera - The Beast
  
  Theme:
  
• Appearance
  Appearance:
  
  
  Appearance Description: at the present, she is in a sorry state. Her skin is covered in grime and scrapes from the hard labor. Recently she has earned herself a fresh bruise on her face for speaking out against a guard.
  
  Height: 5'4"
  
  Weight: 114
  
  Eye color: Pale Grey
  
  Hair color: Strawberry blonde
  
  Scars/Tattoos/Birthmarks: Has scars and calloses all over her hands from working in the labor camps for about half a year.
  
• Persona
  Personality: Ophelia is someone who is nurturing by nature. Taking care of the needs of others is something that comes naturally to her, whether it be understanding their feelings or keeping them well fed and warm. She thrives in the role of a protector and becomes surprisingly fierce when the people she cares about are under threat, even in minor instances of insult. It can take people by surprise to see such a kind girl lash out with sharp words or even a fist if she feels it is needed.
  
  There is nothing she hates more than those who abuse the weak and her protective nature has led to her speaking out for complete strangers at the mercy of bullies and conmen. The life of a slave has forced her to bite her tongue more than usual, but even still it hasn’t dampened her fire. At the cost of punishment, she has lashed out at the masters for mistreating others. Most recently it has even earned her a nasty bruise on her face. However, as outspoken as she is for others, she unfortunately tolerates a lot more abuse that is directed at herself. Likewise, she tends to put her needs last in favor of others.
  
  In happier days she was of good humor, something that made her very popular with children whom she could often be seen playing with. She never took herself too seriously and a tease or prank every now and then brought only a huge smile to her face as she would laugh along. These days it's harder to smile, but she does her best to cheer up those around her and help keep up their morale. Seeing the smiles of others is just enough for her to keep going.
  
  Likes:
  
  • Music and song
  • Festivals and feasts
  • Sewing and painting
  • Swimming
  • Flowers and gardening
  • Children
  • Animals
  Dislikes:
  
  • Bitter food and drink.
  • The smell of alcohol
  • Horseback riding
  • Anyone who takes advantage of others
  Fears:
  
  • Fire
  • Horses (had a bad experience)
  • Not being able to find her family again
  Strengths:
  
  • Empathetic with high emotional/social intelligence
  • Kind and selfless
  • Knows how to haggle (and deal with hagglers)
  • Hardworking and diligent.
  • Brave. Will keep going when things get difficult.
  • Very observant of her environment and is quick to notice changes. Can predict rain and storms approaching based on clouds, scent and wind. Good eye for minor changes in animal and human behavior.
  • Resourceful. Experienced at getting by with very little.
  
  Flaws:
  
  • Biased against members of certain nations (based on who she believes is at fault in the war). Holds grudges for said war.
  • Can have a bit of a temper. Will always be triggered if someone she loves is being picked on, but is also if she sees someone taking advantage of others (thiefs, conartists, bullies). Makes her brash and upset for longer than it should.
  • Will neglect her own needs for the sake of others.
  • Lack of knowledge into any sort of magical arts. Lived in an area without mages.
  • Distrustful of magic and runes.
  • Low personal ambition. Doesn't challenge what is known.
  
  Bio/Backstory: Ophelia had to grow up far quicker than she should have. She was 13 when Syuethyr declared war on Niolyan and attacked. Her father, a fisherman yet loyal to his country, marched off to defend his nation’s freedom. As the fighting intensified and the warfront sank inland, her mother and three siblings were forced to pack up their belongings and leave their home behind. Her mother’s sister lived in a port city on the south-eastern tip of Niolyan, so the family traveled the distance in hopes of waiting out the war on safer soil.
  
  One of her younger siblings grew ill on the journey, and was bedridden by the time they made it to their aunt’s residence. With one of the children sick and already limited space, the living conditions were hard. Not to mention the financial struggle placed on them by the move and the absence of their father. While her aunt and uncle provided them shelter and meals, even the young Ophelia understood that they would need to pay their keep or be forced out. Ophelia did her best to help support her family, taking up a job in the fish market by gutting and selling the day’s catch and repairing fishing gear.
  
  Eventually they managed to move into a meager residence by the docks, but just when things had stabilized and Ophelia had grown into her new life, her family received word that her father had been killed in battle. The news hit them all hard, but not so much as her mother. Still, she tried her best to manage her children, until about a month later when the sickness finally took her second oldest child. To have lost her husband and a child in such quick succession broke her mother. She refused to eat and did little to care for herself and her youngest children, who at the time were only 5 and 8 years old.
  
  Ophelia cared for her mother and her younger brothers, but as months of mourning stretched onto years a deep resentment began to build up. It was sad to admit, but she grew to despise her mother for caring more for her dead family than the ones who still breathed. With her mother’s neglect, Ophelia was forced to raise her younger siblings. She would take them with her to the market where she worked, not wanting them to witness their mother’s pitiful state. Many days were spent walking along the harbor and beaches, the two tagging at her heels and helping her (in their own little ways) to sell the fish that came in from the ships.
  
  It was on one of these sunny days when she first spotted the ships on the horizon. Bigger than fishing vessels, she wondered if they could have been traders from one of the lavish merchant fleets from the rich cities to the east. She certainly didn’t recognize the flag. At the time a thought even crossed her mind if she could sell her catch to them for a good price. How wrong she was.
  
  The attack was quick and brutal. Imperial cannons flew over the city walls, spreading fire, chaos and death from within. With her siblings in each hand, Ophelia ran through the burning city in hopes of fleeing into the safety of the mainland. They were stopped by imperial troops before the city gates and dragged screaming and kicking away from her two brothers. The last she would ever see of them was their crying faces as they were carried off by armored soldiers. As for herself, she was chained and placed with a group of other adults, carted off into boats that would sail them to their new life as slaves of the empire.
  
  As one of the first batches of slaves from Niolyan, Ophelia has been at the labor camp for about half a year. Through all her hardship she keeps her gaze north and dreams of a day when she can break free of her bonds and reunite with her brothers, wherever they may be.
  
• Abilities
  
  

  
  

  Physical:
  Strength: ✦✦✦✧✧
  Vitality: ✦✦✦✧✧
  Agility: ✦✦✦✧✧​

  
  

  Mental:
  Wisdom: ✦✦✦✦✧
  Intelligence: ✦✦✦✧✧
  Charisma: ✦✦✦✦✦​

  
  

  Magical:
  Potency: ✦✧✧✧✧
  Affinity: ✧✧✧✧✧​
  Skills:
  
  • Sewing and embroidery. All around handy with a needle and thread.
  • Repairing nets and other fishing gear.
  • Swimming
  • Playing the panflute
  • Traditional Niolyan painting.
  • Preparing game (can gut and debone a fish with speed!)
  • Cooking Niolyan dishes. Also good at making hardy meals with little ingredients (thanks poverty)
  
  Magic: no magic. no bitches.
  
  Divine Boons:
  Beast-Tongue: the ability to talk with all manner of beast, be they lions and elk or insects and fish. The complexity of each beast is determined by their species, with some having very limited speech, while others have more abstract ideas and cultures. This boon allows for the user's message or intention to be communicated clearly, and for them in turn to perfectly understand the beast they commune with. However, while this ability allows for communication, it gives no advantage to conversation. All beasts have their own motives, and some may not be inclined to talk or care. The smarter the beast, the more convincing they will need for favors. Some may not even listen. The only advantage this ability gives is the oddity of coming across a human who can communicate, which can entice the curiosity of most beasts. It may surprise aggressive beasts into stopping their attack long enough to listen.
  
• Divine Patron
  
  Name: Chimera
  
  Aliases: The Chimera, The Beast, Thousand-Maw, King of Beasts (despises this mortal-granted title), First-blood or First-born or Origin (by beasts)
  
  Gender/Pronouns: They/It/He (he is most popular among mortals)
  
  Domains: Beasts, adaptation
  
  Motive for choosing their champion: reminds him of an old friend.
  
  Appearance Description: Chimera's name is simple, effective and honest. In a more 'resting' form he is always in some amalgamation of different beasts, the ratio and traits being determined by his whims. It is quite common for him to suddenly change his body to have different features, such as wings, mandibles, tails, limbs, and even extra heads if he so chooses. Since a full amalgamation is alarming to mortals, Chimera typically uses a 'modest' (as seen on right) form when needing to appear before mortals. During the god war his form was a true amalgamation of teeth and animalistic might, earning him the name "Thousand-Maw". While this form hasn't been used in ages, this is unfortunately one of the main depictions of him across a lot of cultures.
  
  Spoiler: Thousand Maw references

  

  

  
  
  Personality: Chimera is a very simple, no frills sort of god. He speaks honestly and without a filter, living as freely as his creations. As such, he has little patience for round-about conversations, riddles, and anything that obscures the true intent of something with words. This is usually something he can spot quite easily through changes in scent, sound and general 'instinct' but in the cases where he cannot know if words are lies he becomes very irritated and confused. There is little he hates more than trying to figure out the meanings of cryptic messages and other mental hurdles. Long conversations bore or confuse him, often resulting in him demanding to "use less words". What he best understands are actions and will judge someone on that rather than what they claim.
  
  The only thing that he hates more than 'too many words' is having his will restricted and being forced to obey orders he does not align with. Prone to acting on instinct and whim, Chimera deeply values the ability to act freely according to one's will. This does not mean a lack of responsibility. In fact, Chimera is fiercely protective of things he cherishes and unstoppable in willpower when he sets a goal. When his heart is with a cause, all of his being comes with it. When his heart is not in something, he will drag his heels and resist as much as possible.
  
  Unfortunately, to survive means to adapt, and Chimera is no exception. While his core believes will remain unmoved, he is greatly shaped by his environment and will do what is necessary to keep himself and his creations alive.
  
  Likes:
  
  • Eating. Literally anything, so long as its fresh.
  • Running, climbing, swimming and flying. The thrill of unfettered movement.
  • Hunting. For anything. Just likes looking for and chasing something. Equally enjoys being the hunted.
  
  Dislikes:
  
  • Orders. Does not like when his will is fettered.
  • Trapped. Being forced to stay in one place either physically or by unseen chains.
  • Words. Chimera dislikes round-about language and fancy dialects.
  
  Bio/Backstory: In the beginning, the line between beast and man was blurred. There were no barriers and cities to separate them, and with the first breath of creation they were granted as much respect as any mortal. Equal parts foe and source of nourishment, mortals and beasts lived as equals. Both bled, ate, birthed and died. At the very least, Chimera saw it this way.
  
  It was quite early on when Chimera began to see a shift in creation. Gods fawned over their personal mortals, which now began to be separated into ‘races’. It confused Chimera, but not so much as the constructions of cities, roads, and all things he would later come to know as "civilization". Why did they leave the forests? He could not fathom such a thing. No longer did mortals walk with the beasts, but instead created territories for just themselves. There were still beasts present, but those that were not surrounded by the strange wooden sticks were driven out. The race known as beasts was no longer considered a race at all. Increasingly, Chimera saw mortals view beasts as lesser creatures, and by extension, himself as a lesser god.
  
  It was not long after that the first of the wars broke out. At first Chimera simply allowed his creatures to feast on the corpses, but as the war consumed more land through harvest or sheer destruction, it became clear that a new threat to his creations was growing. Adaptation was survival, and thus in the dredges of war the deity many would call Thousand-Maw was birthed.
  
  While the wilds shrank, there certainly wasn't a shortage of armies or crumbling cities. Chimera, now an almost unrecognizable monstrosity, wandered the wounded landscape with a hoard of monstrous creatures, letting them graze upon armies and cities of mortals indiscriminately. His kin gnawed on the bones of civilization while swarms of insects ate away at stone, metal and wood until there was nothing left behind. While many gods rallied to a noble cause, alliances and betrayal, Chimera simply led his hoard to greener pastures before moving on. While the mortals might not see it that way, there was no malice to his attacks, only survival. During the midst of the war he had adapted into brutal tactics, the most notable being to afflict mortal populations with the were-beast curse and let them feast on their kinsman before joining him in the hoard. On several occasions he even changed the behavior of livestock, waiting for the massive food shortages to weaken the city before moving in for the feast.
  
  It was only a matter of time before one of the god alliances teamed up to deal with the wandering nuisance, and eventually Chimera suffered a near fatal attack. He was forced to retreat into the dying wilds, most of his hoard scattering. Deeply wounded, Chimera and the remnants of his hoard fled into the wilds, but were cut off by a deity. He attacked them with all the ferocity he had left, but in the end he was defeated. Yet instead of killing him off, she moved Chimera and his surviving hoard deeper into the territory where he was nursed back to health.
  
  This was probably one of the most confusing moments of Chimera’s existence. He found himself in a strange glade he would later know as a ‘garden’ and surrounded by mortals. The deity didn’t even bind or guard him. He could have destroyed everything in front of him, didn't see realize that? Of course, in the end she was correct in her trust and Chimera did little but lick his wounds. When Chimera was well enough to walk again, the mysterious deity explained everything to him. This was her hidden garden, a paradise for mortals where they could live without the pains of war. What’s more, she invited Chimera and all his creations to live there should they choose.
  
  After having adapted to the outside hellscape for so long, this proposition was something so foreign to the beast god. It challenged the line of thinking he had adapted for survival; gods were threats to his childens' survival and without healthy wilds the only food was war itself. In the end he agreed to make this area his territory, which had just enough life in it for some of his creations to adapt back into their more natural states. Omnivores became herbivores again, monstrous beasts were able to create dens and territories to roam. Chimera himself shifted away from the Thousand-Maw monstrosity many would now know him as, returning closer to what he was in the beginning. It was something he had almost forgotten in the war.
  
  Over time the two gods became fast friends and were practically inseparable, one seldom being seen without the other. In some artistic relics of the time, it was even misinterpreted that the two gods were twins. Together, the two gods were able to protect what was one of the few natural areas left in the world.
  
  In the tailend of the war Chimera’s friend told him she had to leave and that he should protect the garden until she returned. She told him there was something only she could do, and fully trusting her, Chimera didn’t pressure for any answers. He waited, until vines grew over his paws and the fruit ripened and fell from the branches. Mortals began to trickle out, and in the empty temple leaves began to gather. Chimera never understood art, but it was important to his friend, so he did what he could to keep all of her art-things and her mortal’s art-things clean and free of damage.
  
  Alone this time, he continued to protect the territory from the war, though never strayed too far away from the overgrown garden. It didn’t look the same as it once did, but all the plants and flowers grew strong and wild, with deer and other beasts frolicking in the lush.
  
  Then he was summoned abruptly before the other gods and…something new. It called itself Arbiter, and while Chimera wished to rip it and everyone else apart, his instincts were sharp enough to know this unknown god was powerful beyond measure. When he saw others attempt to attack it, his suspicions were confirmed. Forced to listen, Chimera was enraged to hear of a ‘competition’ of mortals and the winning prize. While it was tempting to many, Chimera was revolted by the reduction of his will and freedom. Still, pride was a sure way to end up as worm-feed, so in order to survive Chimera did what needed to be done…
  
  Theme:
  gremlin mode fluffy boy hehe:
  majestic beast god:
  THOUSAND-MAW:
  
  
  

 

[jmann]

Tryggvi Selander WIP

• Basics
• Appearance
• Persona
• Abilities
• Divine Patron

• Basics
  Name
  Andronicus Tryggvi Selander
  
  Aliases
  Trygg
  
  Race
  Human
  
  Age
  38
  
  Gender/Pronouns
  Male, He/Him
  
  Divine Patron
  Vestige, the Echo of Aeons
  
  Theme
  
  
  
• Appearance
  Appearance
  Kingsdarga on tumblr
  
  Height
  6'2"
  
  Weight
  170 lbs
  
  Eye Color
  Blue
  
  Hair Color
  Messy black
  
  Scars/Tattoos/Birthmarks
  Dozens of whip scars across the back. Ankles and wrists are heavily marked from chains. Spearhead scars mark the abdomen.
  
• Persona WIP
  Personality
  Trygg is a glacier of a man. Slow-moving, slow-talking, but with a weight that challenges the sea when challenged. His time in prison has stripped him of anger or hate and left a hollow serenity in its place. Trygg's patience and "good behaviour" is infamous through the camp, marking him as a traitor to fellow slaves for serving the soldiers without complaint, and an easy target for the soldiers' violent outbursts.
  
  Trygg was a strong father once. He still has the remnants of his infinite patience and empathy for all who suffer.
  
  Likes
  - Playing outside
  - Dogs
  - Children
  
  Dislikes
  - Theatre
  - Reading
  
  Fears
  - Cities
  - Fire
  
  Strengths
  - Courage
  - Honest
  - Will remember your allergies
  
  Flaws
  - Untrusting
  - Unwilling to stand up for others.
  
  Bio/Backstory
  Andronicus Tryggvi Selander was born in the small fishing village of Orrostr. Orrostr resides in the most northern part of the United Kingdoms of Syuethyr, in the kingdom of Sicaria. Tryggvi spent his younger years working with his father in construction. He predominantly built houses and wagons from the vast coniferous forests, but as time went on, Sicaria traded more and more by sea and thus Orrostr focused more on shipbuilding. Tryggvi's father helmed the shipbuilding projects with Tryggvi's help.
  
  As Tryggvi's father hired more help, Tryggvi himself worked less at the drydocks. Instead, he focused himself on guard work. He never wished to join the soldiers off patrolling the borders, only to protect his town from violent brawls or prowling beasts. More often than not, he was sent to settle disputes and inspect passing caravans. In his mid 20s, Tryggvi fell in love and married a shepherd called Ingrid. Together they had two sons, Eskel and Folke. Despite his sense of justice, Tryggvi chose to go back to shipbuilding. As quiet as Orrostr was, having a family changed how willing he was to put himself in danger.
  
  Years passed, Tryggvi and his family moved south to the eastern-most point of Syuethyr to the bustling seaside city of Timberdrift. Tryggvi worked on larger ships capable of crossing the sea to the Principality of Niolyan. Ingrid pursued teaching, bringing her knowledge of rural livestock to the larger farms.
  
  However, when their new kingdom, Taurans, declared war on Keohan over trade taxes, Tryggvi and most able-bodied individuals from every town were called to bear arms. Tryggvi had never liked Keohan. He thought them a dogmatic and prejudiced people, bent on being the central power in Syuethyr. His sentiments were not helped when Keohan invaded first. The low wall dividing the nations was symbolically destroyed, and many of the pine trees Tryggvi had grown up around were destroyed. Timberdrift was razed to the ground. Tryggvi and the others, all carpenters, masons, and the like, had barely donned their armour by the time the fighting reached the streets, fighting the enemy among the flaming houses they wished so desperately to go home to. The Keohan army's speed and determination overpowered the Timberdrift resistance in a matter of days. Ingrid and Eskel were executed, and Folke taken captive.
  
  Desperate and grieving, Tryggvi joined a new guerilla effort among fathers and mothers to break their sons from Keohan prisons. Tryggvi was pushed to the very limit of his patience. With no loved ones within reach and many of his friends' blood still staining his clothes, the following months would be the most trying period of his life. With the aid of more charismatic rebellion leaders they garnered enough support among the Tauran refugees and launched several minor counter offenses, some of which were even successful.
  
  The Syuethyr folkmoot's decision to declare a united war on Riolyan led to the Fractured Land Treaty (known among Keohanians as the Concord of Cravens) marking an enforced unity between Taurans and Keohan for the benefit of Syuethyr. Folke was returned to him, shaken but unharmed. Folke had been treated well by the Keohan government, and even returning to the ruins of Timberdrift retained pro-Keohan sentiments towards their politics and culture. As an anti-Keohan activist, Tryggvi had lost all respect from his son. They had each other
  Those feelings worsened when the parent freedom fighters attempted to stage a coup for Keohan figureheads. In the chaos and confusion, Tryggvi was snatched away as an assumed accessory to the violence. As a previously known fighter, Tryggvi was sent off with little trial. Instead of prison, however, Tryggvi bounced between labour camps. In one, he hauled lumber with a thousand other prisoners. In another, he dug up areas for the foundation of roads passing throuhg all of Syuethyr. There were times he was sent to the front lines, forced to take up a spear and face off the enemy.
  
  For the last three months, Tryggvi has lived in a single camp, using his knowledge of carpentry to assist in shipbuilding as opposed to the regular slave duties. Though one of his sons still lives, Tryggvi doubts there is anything left of the situation to harvest.
  
  
• Abilities
  Stats
  Physical:
  
  • Strength: 4​
  • Vitality: 5​
  • Agility: 2​
  Mental:
  
  • Wisdom: 3​
  • Intelligence: 2​
  • Charisma: 3​
  Magical:
  
  • Potency: 3​
  • Affinity: 1​
  
  Skills
  - Knowledge of lumber
  - Whittling
  - Endurance
  - Carrying capacity
  
  Divine Boons
  Bloodscent: Tryggvi is able to identify any creature so long as he has been in contact with their blood or in close proximity to an open wound. No matter the disguise or shifted shape, that creature is indefinitely known to Tryggvi. This ability does not grant Tryggvi any special ability beyond the identification of these individuals.
  
• Divine Patron
  Name
  Vestige
  
  Aliases
  The Echo of Eons, The Mad God of Forgotten Books, Sanguine Keeper
  
  Gender/Pronouns
  Genderless, they/them
  
  Domains
  Secrets, Blood
  
  Motive
  Those who do not wish to learn will do the least evil with that which they have learned.
  
  Appearance
  Physical form: By Ausp-ice on DeviantArt [imafefloat=right][/imagefloat]
  
  
  Personality
  Vestige has always been a neutral god, caring more for the preservation and proper distribution of forgotten knowledge than keeping up to date with godly quarrels and slights. Despite living in a world of secrets and subterfuge, Vestige is reliably honest and mostly indifferent to the emotions of others. They do not wish harm upon others, however, they merely look past feelings and towards the future.
  
  Likes
  - gathering knowledge
  - spreading knowledge
  - architecture
  - craftsmanship
  - conversation
  
  Dislikes
  - body modification
  - conflict
  
  Bio/Backstory
  Despite appearing at the same time as other gods, Vestige did not take material form for a long time. At first, they existed as the shadow on the wall, the fear that someone knows what you did. As time went on, their shape grew. Their first shape was a spinning vortex of that which should not be known. Through the ages they evolved and grew with each new secret. A roiling pool of blood and whispering maws, a labyrinth of flesh inscribed with ancient texts. By the beginning of the god war they were just beginning to make physical impressions across the cosmos. Words without language, purpose without intention.
  
  As the god war raged, Vestige could do little to intervene. As much as they desired unity between equals, battle plans were secrets, and secrets made Vestige grow. It did not take long before Vestige was able to make a distinguishable physical form to interact with gods, inspired by aspects of each god they had encountered.
  
  Finally capable of interacting with the world, Vestige devoted their efforts entirely to unity. Their language skills were underdeveloped, and their magic unconventional, but they worked well enough. Their efforts did little to quell the conflict until the arrival of the Arbiter, whom Vestige worked with closely to help put an end to the conflict. True or otherwise, Vestige considers their actions to be the cause of the Arbiter's arrival.
  
  In the aftermath of the war, Vestige was as aloof as before, only now with the ability to take physical form. They would spend most of their time attempting to influence mortals indirectly to further experiments into the nature of the gods. The notion of a divine contest did not interest them, but the fear of another deity gaining significant power over the world did. Vestige feared such a thing could spark another war, so they joined the competition, bent on winning it or tearing it down.
  
  Theme
  
  
  

 

[AnonyMouse]

• Overview
• Persona
• Abilities
• Divine Patron

• Clyde Van Auren​
  
  
  
  
  Theme:
  

  Spoiler

  
  

  Race: Human
  Age: 26
  Gender: male
  
  Divine Patron: Tsubael, The Muse
  
  Height: 6’1" (185 cm)
  Weight: 170 lbs (77 kg)
  Eye Color: blue
  Hair Color: dirty blonde
  
  Appearance:
  A roguish nobleman, Clyde has a wiry build, but just athletic enough to give the impression he can do physical labor, if he must. His hair is either a messy mop or haphazardly slicked back, depending on what he's up to: business, pleasure, or pleasurable business. Has no major scars, other than a few little scrapes to prove he's been around the block a few times. He tends to be well-dressed, but not too fancy to get his hands dirty or be off-putting to common folks. (Obviously, he's not well-dressed now, due to being a slave and such. But, as he would say, "rock bottom is a trampoline." He is confident he'll be dapper again in no time.)
  
  
• Clyde Van Auren​
  
  
  Personality:​
  Clyde sees himself as the life of the party… even when there is no party to be had. Always talking and (almost) always smiling --or grinning, at least-- he is an odd blend of optimism and cynicism, experienced enough to know the world can be a really shitty place, but clever enough to carve out his own sweet spot in it and seize the moment. He’s a gambler at heart, but not in the "dice and card games" sense of the word. Instead, he's always looking to make a deal, up the ante, push things a little further. It isn't even about winning. It's about the friends (frenemies?) made along the way.
  
  He is mostly well-intentioned, and would prefer to have everyone along for the ride, rather than get a cheap laugh at someone else’s expense. But his fast-talking, slick-witted nature and penchant for clever wordplay (in his opinion) can easily rub people the wrong way or easily lead to misunderstandings. Those who are introverted, naturally distrustful, or not sharp enough to keep up will probably think he's up to no good, even when he's just trying to make harmless small talk or liven the mood.
  
  Likes:
  An audience
  Art and antiquities
  Women
  Strong liquor
  Closing a deal
  Thinking outside the box
  Seeing a good plan come together
  
  

  Dislikes:
  Rules and people who follow them to the letter
  Nobility, royalty, any unchecked power (yes, that includes gods)
  Physical confrontation
  Overly aggressive or serious people
  Wildlife and outdoors-y stuff
  Getting a raw deal or missing a golden opportunity
  
  

  Fears:
  His own genius /s
  Being forgotten or alone
  Getting in over his head
  Being stuck in one place for too long
  Becoming one of 'them'
  Magic
  
  
  Strengths:
  Street-wise, well-traveled, worldly
  Open-minded and rarely judgmental
  Optimistic; it's hard to catch him in a slump
  Charismatic (most of the time)
  Educated and well-bred
  Good business sense
  
  

  Flaws:
  Overconfident; won't quit, even when he should
  Impatient; often seeks a quick turnaround
  A bit of a horndog, when it comes to women
  Thrillseeker; parties too hard and, usually too soon
  Wanderlust and a lack of focus
  
  
  Bio/Backstory:
  The Van Aurens are a family of mid-tier nobles from the Kingdom of Rarese. They were once a proud military family, until the God War nearly ended their entire bloodline and emptied their coffers. In the time since, they've regained a fraction of their power through trade and various mercantile endeavors, particularly the trade of metals. These days, the Van Aurens are mostly known for gold, including the buying, selling, and trade of gold in both its raw and refined forms, as well as the mining and leasing of tracts of gold-rich land.
  
  However, Clyde Van Auren has always sought a different path. He was never formally taught the family business, but was always there, observing the way his father conducted himself during deal-making and negotiations. From a young age, Clyde proved to be a quick study, despite no proper tutelage. But, being the third of three sons, he was always overshadowed by his brothers. His frustration at this grew, turning him into a rebellious young man. He often acted out until, one day in a fit of rage, his father let slip that he was a bastard: Clyde was the result of his mother's infidelity.
  
  At first, this revelation angered and confused him. He frequently ran away from home to numb himself with revelry, women, and substances. He even flirted with the idea of becoming an adventurer or joining a nomadic clan or traveling circus troupe. His way with words made him adept at blending into various cultures and making friends everywhere he went. But, no matter how far he travelled, he always trudged home when his misadventures got out of hand, and was welcomed with open arms. Their desire to keep up the appearance of a 'proper' family was more powerful than whatever past sin his mother had committed or the new ones Clyde continued to engage in.
  
  In time, he cleaned up (somewhat) and was allowed to partake in the family business. Perhaps they finally saw his talent or maybe they realized he was less of a mischievous little shit if given something to do. Whatever the reason, his father began to send Clyde out on assignments. The gold trade often involved sitting in stuffy rooms with even stuffier people and drafting obtuse contracts and Clyde proved to be a excellent deal-closer. On one hand, he was glad they finally trusted him enough to let him do this. On the other hand, it was mind-numbingly boring!
  
  His work often took him to faraway lands. He saw places and people some can only dream of and the journey was more fascinating than the destination. Along the way, Clyde discovered his calling: antiquities. The same people who dug the gold mines, often told stories of ruins, ancient temples, and sunken cities. Some were true. Some, not so much. But discerning one from the other was always an adventure. The very first time Clyde set foot in an archaeological site, he was hooked.
  
  As time went on, he made a name for himself as a salesman of antiquities, relics, and art. He lacked the skill to venture into ruins himself --not for lack of trying, mind you-- but found he has a knack for helping adventurers and archaeologists fence the things they fought so hard to unearth. While this wasn't as profitable as the family business, it was infinitely more interesting and allowed him to carve out his own niche.
  
  Clyde has been doing that for about six years now and it has taken him all over the eastern continent, but he is always looking for new horizons and new adventurers. He recently came across a very wealthy client interested in artifacts from the eastern continent. Against the advice of his friends and family, Clyde decided to cross the pond into the Principality of Niolyan and, eventually, the Mathean Empire, seeking different cultures, art, and history to send back to his homeland.
  
  Unfortunately, he soon ran afoul of the Merchant’s Guild, who was not fond of a foreign freelance dealer attempting to export their history, which landed him in his current predicament. he has been a slave for a little over two months now, but hasn't lost hope yet. He has gotten out of worse situations, right? (Wrong.)
  
• Clyde Van Auren​
  
  
  Stats​
  Physical
  Strength: 2
  Vitality: 4
  Agility: 3
  

  Mental
  Wisdom: 4
  Intelligence: 4
  Charisma: 5
  

  Magical
  Potency: 0
  Affinity: 1
  
  
  Skills:
  Showmanship / Salesmanship: Clyde knows how to work a crowd, be it for profit or entertainment. He is not too proud to make a fool of himself to break tension, nor is he too shy to step up when something must be said or done.
  
  Street-smart and adaptable: He has traveled enough to know every city is different… yet the same. Clyde is good at navigating unfamiliar streets and staying aware of his surroundings. Like a chameleon, he molds himself to his environment, and never looks like a tourist, even when he has no idea where he is.
  
  Horseback Riding: Despite his noble upbringing, Clyde prefers to saddle up, rather than board a coach or carriage. He has gotten pretty good at riding and caring for steeds. Sadly, his trusty stallion did not cross the sea with him and he failed to procure another before the slavers came along.
  
  Fencing: He has some training in basic swordsmanship, mostly for duels amongst the nobility and such, but lacks real-world experience. People who do this for a living would easily mop the floor with him, but at least he’s self-aware enough to know better than to brandish a blade when words will suffice.
  
  Magic:
  None. Clyde knows a little about magic, in the academic sense, but thinks it’s weird and dangerous.
  
  Divine Boon(s):
  Quality Control – allows Clyde to raise or lower the quality of any item he touches, such as turning a rusty, cheap knife into a golden dagger, or reducing a diamond ring to a simple iron band. This works best on small items, especially those he can hold in his hands.
  
  
• Tsubael, The Muse​
  
  
  
  
  Theme:
  

  Spoiler

  Tsubael's Theme:
  
  

  Tsubael X Clyde's Theme:
  
  

  
  

  Aliases:
  The Forgotten Muse
  The Gilded Lady
  The Masterpiece
  The Forgemaiden
  
  Gender/Pronouns: "she" or "it"
  
  Domains: Artifice, Smithing
  
  Motive: Wants to bring about a new age of peace, through culture and understanding. But this is her first time participating in these games. She's not sure what qualities to look for in a champion, so she drew a wild card.
  
  Mythological AppearanceTsubael is a very introverted deity, who seldom appears before mortals and will go to great lengths to obscure or erase her image from their memory when she does. It is said that gazing directly upon her will inspire an artist, inventor, or craftsman to ascend to the height of their craft... or quit due to overwhelming feelings of inferiority. As such, most tales of encounters with her are heavily embellished, if not entirely fictional.
  
  She does, however, sometimes reach out through dreams or visions, when she wishes to inspire someone. Most of these stories describe her as a serene woman of ethereal beauty, shrouded in a cloak or hooded robe, with many arms, each holding a tool or implement, such as a paintbrush, sculptor's chisel, or blacksmith's hammer. In some rare instances, she is described as a work of art herself, such as a painting or sculpture brought to life.
  True AppearanceOnly the gods (and a handful of mortals) who have seen her know Tsubael's true appearance. It is only fitting that the goddess of artifice is, herself, artificial: Tsubael is a mechanical doll. Her outer shell is made of porcelain, precious metals, and even wood in some places, and displays an otherworldly level of craftsmanship and attention to detail. Whatever entity created her was clearly a master of all fields: painting, ceramics, smithing, engraving, woodworking, embroidery, glassblowing, gemcutting, and even fields that do not yet exist, such as biomechanics and clockworks.
  
  Time and the War have left their marks upon her, but the tarnish, wear, and repairs only add to her beauty. It is said that one could gaze upon her for an eternity and continue to find new and fascinating intricacies. Even her inner components are a seemingly impossible assortment of gears, pulleys, and golden threads, peeking through gaps in her porcelain skin. Her face is a static mask, which neither moves nor emotes, though some say the two glowing gemstones which serve as her eyes appear to convey emotion... often sorrow. True to the myths, she possesses four arms, though the second pair are usually clasped behind her back, as if in waiting.
  
  Personality:
  Tsubael believes she was built, rather than created. Despite being fully sentient, she sees herself as an object, not a person, and even goes so far as to refrain from showing emotions and never refers to herself as “I.” Tsubael feels she is a ‘machine god’ created to bridge the gap between mortals and the divine and give mortals something to aspire to create. She is aware and cognizant of the sad truth that they may someday build something like her --or better-- and have no need for her any longer. She wants to see them push forward, but knows her actions are hastening this eventual obsolescence. (This is, of course, not true. She has the same divinity as any other god and isn’t merely a collection of mechanical bits. But try telling her that…)
  
  Nevertheless, she still cares deeply for them. Tsubael is an incredibly empathetic and melancholy god, cautious of her influence on the ebb and flow of civilizations. The War affected her greatly, for she saw how rapidly the mortals fashioned new and terrible creations of war. She hid from the world for a long time after it, but now understands advancement and innovation can be tempered by wisdom, peace, and the lessons of time. Progress and introspection must go hand in hand. To her godly kin, she can come across as cold, robotic, and even subservient at times, but the mask does occasionally slip, revealing a deeply wounded goddess taking her first hesitant steps back into the world, timid, yet hopeful.
  
  Likes:
  Art, technology, anything that displays a high level of quality or craftsmanship
  People who pour themselves into their work or show passion for their field of study
  Science, puzzles, and complex or abstract problems
  Observing the daily lives of others, especially small acts of love and kindness
  Being of use to others, especially by building / creating things
  
  

  Dislikes:
  Violence, conflict, or using one's talents to do harm
  Weapons, especially those crafted in her name
  Crowds, attention, and/or being gawked at
  
  
  
  Backstory:
  For most of her life, Tsubael has played the role of servant to the gods. Her skill in craftsmanship is second to none, so her fellow deities sometimes sought her out for jewelry, attire, armor, weapons, or magical devices. Since the dawn of man, the deities they idolized and feared were often draped in Tsubael’s handiwork, yet they had no idea she existed. For eons, Tsubael felt this was her proper place: to be the smith, tailor, and architect of the gods, toiling away in their shadow.
  
  Many gods knew her, but there were none she could truly call ‘friend.’ That was, until Ravenna came along. Goddess of sun and flame, Ravenna The Radiant was Tsubael’s opposite in nearly every way. Charismatic and bold, she was an extremely social deity, known by all. She commanded a legion of followers, especially in the deserts of the eastern continent, with new cults and sects springing up all the time. Ravenna dined with kings and emperors, brought entire armies to their knees, and reduced cities to ash… all while decked out in Tsubael’s finest works. It was likely through her that Tsubael’s legend began.
  
  The change was slow, but steady. Painters would pray to The Muse to guide their brush. Masons would chisel her imagined likeness into their keystones. Her name was invoked in art schools and workshops across the world, whispered under their breath as they began their magnum opus. Although she never cultivated a proper religious order the way other deities might, at least she was known now. She existed. And, for a time, she was happy to see the things people created in her name.
  
  Tsubael was not always in agreement with Ravenna’s delusions of grandeur and penchant for conquest, but still chose to express her gratitude in a way she felt the sun goddess would appreciate. A simple sculpture or painting would not do, so she retreated to her workshop and emerged with her finest work: Parhelion, The Twin Suns, a pair of identical swords said to be capable of channeling the full splendor of the sun. To this day, many classical depictions of Ravenna feature these iconic weapons.
  
  The beautiful golden swords were meant to be a symbol of their friendship, something to be worn in times of peace, not wielded. But war was coming. Neither goddess knew what the future would hold. One wished only to slink back into the shadows. The other believed everything under the sun belonged to her… and now, thanks to Tsubael’s gift, believed herself powerful enough to make this delusion a reality.
  
  Soon, the whispered prayers of artists and craftsmen were drowned out by the beating of war drums. The God War had arrived. Tsubael stayed out of the conflict as best she could, but she had dressed and armed some of these deities for eons. She had intimate knowledge of their strengths and weaknesses -- knowledge many sought to wring from her, one way or another. So, she hid. She wandered the faraway corners of the world, retreated to the deepest, darkest places, and her name slipped back into obscurity.
  
  But one fateful day, Tsubael felt the destruction of Parhelion. Its shattering rocked her existence long before news of its epic final clash reached her. One of the pair of ‘indestructible’ swords, her finest works of art, lay abandoned on a blood-soaked battlefield, tossed aside like trash. Soldiers sang of Ravenna’s might and how she had conquered yet another nation, felled yet another god. One sword was a small price to pay for victory. Thus, the sun goddess left the broken blade behind and marched on with Parhelion’s surviving twin in hand.
  
  For the first time in her life, Tsubael felt true rage. She must take back what remains of her masterpiece before Ravenna desecrates it any further! But she was too afraid to face the sun goddess directly. How could she? Ravenna was on a warpath, as were most of the gods. To face her would be to face death. But the transgression was neither forgiven nor forgotten. Instead, Tsubael journeyed to the site of Parhelion’s destruction, where the skies were thick with soot and the streets ran with blood. In a city blanketed in ash, she retrieved every shard of Parhelion’s shattered blade from the charred flesh of a dead god and sank back into the shadows to mourn.
  
  Meanwhile, in the city-state of Ven’Shaddah, on the southern border of the Mertamanese Sultanate, a new movement was growing, led by the great sage, L’autrex, a high priest of Ravenna. According to L’autrex, the gods --including his beloved sun goddess-- were mad with bloodlust. “Heed not their calls to arms,” he said, “For continuing to fight in their name will only drive the divines further into insanity and depravity. Pray not for victory, but for peace. We fight for our goddess by not fighting for our goddess.”
  
  His words were blasphemous to some and foolishly naive to others, but like-minded people began to flock toward this movement. Even followers of other gods journeyed to Ven’Shaddah to give peace a voice. Seeing this small glimmer of hope, Tsubael, emerged from hiding and traveled there as well. She felt this was the right place and time to end this war… or, perhaps the right hill to die upon. Once there, she touched the mind of L’autrex and bestowed upon him the fragments of Parhelion, which she had held close to her heart for years, soaking up her anger and sadness. It is said that this man, who possessed no knowledge of blacksmithing or warfare, locked himself in a workshop and toiled for forty days and forty nights, without food or rest.
  
  The final form of L’autrex’s masterpiece has been lost to time, due to the tragic events which followed. He called his creation Penumbra, The God Wall, a shield capable of defending the peace. To this day, no one knows if it was a literal shield or some form of magical device, barrier, or spell. What we do know is that when he emerged from the workshop, various gods and their followers, as well as Ravenna and her multitude of fire cultists, had massed at the city gates. They demanded the priest’s head for the blasphemies he had committed.
  
  It is said that L’autrex marched alone to meet her, as gods and mortals watched. Ravenna lifted her blade, aglow with the might of the sun itself, to smite him. The moment Penumbra and Parhelion met, Ven’Shaddah was instantly destroyed. The forces unleashed by the clash of these two masterpieces, sent ripples all across the continent, forever altering the very landscape. The city and all within it were laid low. The seas boiled. The desert sand became glass.
  
  Today, ancient Ven'Shaddah is little more than a beautiful memory. Tsubael spent many moons wandering that hellish landscape, repairing, replacing, or regenerating her scattered components, haunted by the shame of what she had wrought. The Arbiter’s arrival silenced battlefields all across the world, but the cries of the dead followed her everywhere she went. Tsubael buried her head in the sand, and hoped that she, too, could be forgotten.
  
  But, as the years dragged on, something interesting began to happen: mortals, as they so often do, began to rebuild. Perhaps it was due to her presence in the region or perhaps the tales of old Ven'Shaddah served as an inspiration. Whatever the reason, a new city with an old name began to take shape. The shining jewel of the desert glimmered to life once more, in a new place, with new people, but still holding fast to the same old dreams. The Muse drew closer, roused from her mourning and melancholy and, as she did, new schools of art and learning rose. New technology was created, allowing them to not only live, but thrive in the arid landscape. They inspired her and she, in turn, inspired them.
  
  She finally felt what it meant to be a deity and have mortals under her care and guidance... which is why, when the first signs of warfare began to stir, she knew she could not hide this time.

 

[Dest]

• Basics
• Persona
• Stats
• Divine Patron

• 
  Callarhan Storm
  
  
  
  Race: Taur-Ahe
  
  Age: 27
  
  Gender/Pronouns: Male, He/Him
  
  Divine Patron: Saramet, the Plant Mother
  
  Height: 9' 9"
  Weight: 300 lbs
  Eye color: Brown
  Hair color: Black
  
  Scars/Tattoos/Birthmarks: A rough image of a stormcloud is tattooed across his left arm and three blue lines mark the opposite shoulder. Scars from chains cover his ankles and wrists, and a long scar from a blade runs from his right shoulder to his left hip.
  
  Theme:
  
  
• 
  
  Personality: Callarhan holds himself to a high standard of patience and loyalty to those who have earned it, regardless of the length of time that he has known them. This generally only applies to those who he sees as friends and family, and those who he sees as enemies will have a hard time of gaining his trust and friendship.
  
  Likes:
  Nature
  Peace
  A good drink
  
  Dislikes:
  Larger towns/cities
  Warfare
  Being controlled by another
  
  Fears:
  A lack of free will
  Being treated as a monster
  Failure
  
  Strengths:
  Herbalist - A strong working knowledge of common herbs and medicinal plants as well as many rarer varieties
  Survivalist - A lifetime of living off the land will make anyone good at surviving with little to nothing
  
  Flaws:
  Illiterate - The tribe had little need for any kind of writing or records that weren't oral
  Slow to Act - A glacier would move faster at times
  
  Bio/Backstory:
  Callarhan was born as the third son of the Village Elder of the Storm Tribe, one of the rare warrior groups of Taur-Ahe. His father, Calain, had taken his position as Elder by killing his own father, as well as all other Taur who were older than him, in a series of duels. His older brothers, Tunku and Tanka, were born during this time, a pair of twins who began to hold an axe as soon as they grew big enough. In spite of this, however, Callarhan had a strong preference for the more peaceful pursuits of the tribe, quickly deciding that he wished to apprentice with the tribe's shaman. His life became a routine of learning and traveling from the moment that he made that decision, quickly proving himself to be wise beyond his years. Yet this would not last.
  
  After a scant three years of learning to be a shaman, Callarhan's father grew tired of his peaceful ways. Forcing an axe into his hands, he ordered the twins to train their brother in the ways of battle and war. Callarhan found no joy in this new routine and was constantly beaten and bruised by his family, his brothers taking a special joy in 'teaching' their younger brother. Yet Callarhan slowly learned, every day taking just that single moment longer. This would have likely continued till the day that Callarhan would have seized the chance and beat the duo, but such was not fated to be. During the trio's final spar, the twins taking turns against their brother, a flash at the edge of his vision caused Callarhan to lose his focus for a bare moment. Just long enough for his Tanka strike across his chest in a blow that the young Taur would normally have blocked with ease. Falling to the ground, Callarhan felt his life begin to fade as his blood pooled on the dusty ground. And as his sight faded to black, he watched as an arrow sprouted from Tanka's chest, matching the one in Tunku's. The arrow that had caused him to lose focus had ended one brother's life, and nearly ensured the death of a second.
  
  Callarhan awoke a week later, still weak, to discover that he was now a slave within the Mathean empire. The ever-expanding empire had slaughtered his tribe and taken him as theirs, and now, over a decade later, he has his chance to escape.
  
• 
  

  Physical:	Mental:	Magical:
  Strength: 5	Wisdom: 4	Potency: 1
  Vitality: 5	Intelligence: 3	Affinity: 2
  Agility: 1	Charisma: 2

  
  Skills:
  Woodsmanship
  Herbalism
  Endurance
  Basic Axe Usage
  
  Divine Boons:
  Phytokenesis (Limited): The ability to manipulate the effects and growth rate of plants to a minor degree. This does not allow the instant growth of any plant, nor the complete change of one plant to another, but does allow adaptation these effects to a lesser degree.
• 
  
  
  
  Name:
  Saramet
  
  Aliases:
  The Plant Mother, Mother Nature
  
  Gender/Pronouns:
  She/Her
  
  Domains:
  Major: Plants
  Minor: Medicine
  
  Motive for choosing their champion:
  Saramat watched and wept as one of her children, especially one so close to her as a future shaman, was forced to endure such hardship in his life. With the advent of this newest contest, she has decided to give him a chance to succeed.
  
  
  Personality:
  Saramat embodies her titles, taking on a motherly role for those whom she considers her children, no matter who they may be. She is a gentle and peaceful god, rare to anger and rarer still to truly act upon it. When interacting with mortals she rarely seems to focus fully upon them, instead remaining detached and odd.
  
  Likes:
  Her personal gardens
  Creating new species of plants
  Creating new 'medicinal' teas
  
  Dislikes:
  War
  The destruction of mass amounts of plant life
  The unnecessary spreading of illness
  
  Bio/Backstory:
  The earliest memories that Saramat has are that of wandering barren plains of dust, finding them to by useless and ugly under her gaze. It was from these thoughts that grass sprang forth, appearing under her feet and spreading rapidly to everything within her sight. Intrigued by this she began to experiment, losing herself to the aeons of creation until the god war began. Throughout the war she remained neutral, little care given to what the others did so long as they did no harm to her secret spots and groves. She freely offered healing and aid to all sides, allowing them to rest within her realms between their battles and keeping the peace within these groves to the best of her ability. Now, with the contests which have replaced the war she instead has returned to her experiments, only on occasion deeming to watch the lives of the mortal race that she has created.
  
  *Theme:
  
  

 

[SavannahSmiles]

• .
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  character name

  enter
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  • play with fire

    sam tinnesz

    0:00

    3:01

    vitals

    character name

    aka, character nickname/s

    character age

    character gender

    character sexuality

    character's date of birth

    character's place of birth

    character's current residence

    character occupation

    character species
  • visage

    height

    height comes here

    weight

    weight comes here

    hair

    
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    eyes

    
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    physique

    
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    style

    
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    modifications

    
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    face claim

    
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  • likes

    
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    dislikes

    
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    hobbies

    
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    habits

    
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    ailments

    
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    fears

    
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    Proin a sollicitudin risus. Nunc sit amet lobortis elit, vitae scelerisque ante. Morbi mattis, massa vel bibendum varius, mi massa consectetur nisi, id tincidunt nibh odio vel elit. Donec quam ligula, eleifend eu faucibus non, consectetur at erat. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vivamus venenatis rutrum sodales. Nulla in lacus massa. Duis eros nisi, efficitur sit amet elit vel, facilisis venenatis ipsum. Aenean vel lacus bibendum, viverra ligula vel, rhoncus nibh. Maecenas nec mollis ex. Maecenas eleifend urna neque, ut tincidunt dui luctus vel. Suspendisse laoreet placerat nisi, at consequat ante pretium et. Nunc sit amet molestie tellus, non posuere nisi. Fusce sed massa ornare, auctor nulla id, tincidunt arcu.
    
    Nullam in lobortis dui, sit amet congue felis. Ut in orci et ipsum condimentum luctus vitae cursus ex. Vestibulum viverra hendrerit tellus, ut tristique ex tincidunt sit amet. Nam dui mauris, ultricies a tempor eget, laoreet id nisi. Quisque volutpat tortor ac nibh aliquam tempus. Pellentesque diam dolor, interdum sit amet nisi in, tempor fringilla ligula. Pellentesque rhoncus viverra elit, nec porttitor augue maximus ut. Pellentesque ut mauris sed lectus congue dapibus. Pellentesque faucibus enim sed ornare eleifend. Nunc non sollicitudin magna. Pellentesque ornare at elit sit amet vulputate. Sed quis condimentum nunc. Morbi sed urna odio. Nulla facilisi.
    

    mind

    mythos

    childhood

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    teenage years

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    present

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  • Divine Patron

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    Lord of the Storms

coded by natasha.

 

[fern.]

Etdril Ventharyn

• Base
• Appearance
• Persona
• Abilities
• Divine Patron

• 
  
  
  
  ꧁Etdril Ventharyn꧂
  Aliases:
  Ven, Venth, Etty.
  Race:
  Lexen
  Age:
  22
  Gender/pronouns:
  Male(he/him)
  Divine Patron:
  Talis
  
  ───※ ·· ※───
  
  Spoiler: THEME
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  ꧁Appearance꧂
  
  Tall and and slender, yet carrying an athletic build of his training, Etdril shares the characteristics of many other Lexen. Pointed in the ears with ethereal features of natural beauty, such are oft cut by his downward gaze and lacking sociability. Silvery white hair tresses down over skin that of marble stone. Sharp features with a sharper gaze, the natural elegance of the Lexen proceed him... a shame he would look so out of place among the camp, or perhaps his stay has simply tarnished the very otherworldly nature they oft possess. Truly, just another mortal with a finer veneer about him.
  
  ───※ ·· ※───
  
  Height:
  6’6
  Weight:
  210lb
  Eye color:
  A pale gray of blue/green
  Hair color:
  Silvery white
  Scars/Tattoos/Birthmarks:
  Etdril bears marks upon his face and torso, the Lexen’s marks of their god’s creation. So believed to be yet another piece of their divine ancestry–beginning with the face around the eyes and gaining more into adulthood. His own carry the tones of a satin nickel, yet have since glinted with gold since touched by Talis’ blessing.
  
  ───※ ·· ※───
  
  
• Persona
  ꧁Persona꧂
  
  Etdril is a young man of few words for compassion and understanding. Austere and composed, his looming presence seeming more a threat than what intrigue a Lexen might beget. Never to raise his voice too greatly, nor to speak too softly upon when he does feel such a need to exert his opinions heavily influenced by the teaching of his reverence and heritage. Yet beneath such a cold front, unpersonable and standoffish, there are the glimmers of such humanity and solicitude. Small mercies and benignity peeking through harsh and condemning words. The man himself carries himself with stoic gait, a confidence that places himself above the need for such frivolous and trivial alliance, holding true to an unbiased justice. Yet that has begotten a touch of an awkwardness when not simply relying on intimidation. Easy does it come to him to hold himself to higher standards and look down upon the others… much harder is it for him to act far more genuine to his true self.
  
  ───※ ·· ※───
  
  Likes:
  Etdril likes blades, the tools of his trade of those of his past. Never more comfortable than with a familiar broad flat blade, it was requirement to learn plenty. And though used far less frequently, his favorite to practice with would be that of a simple and elegant shortsword.
  Treatise and literature were oft lining the shelves of his old home, likely now burned with the rest of the traitor's belongings. A pastime quiet to stay atop his studies whilst still given rest.
  Out and about, Etdril ever preferred to find nooks of peace and quiet, often avoidant of the bustle and gazes of disdain for those less inclined to the sharp edges of the Parity's Blades.
  With a livelihood so built off of the chaos others might bring to the balance, order was ever his preference, not so above being the one to bring it, in the moment's he'd spare of such haughtiness.
  Yet, in quite contradiction to all that he'd prefer and is comfortable to him, there is a certain charm to a harmless liveliness, no matter how he might protest, more-so an observer to the energy of others, as he finds his own quieter enjoyments upon the fringes.
  
  Dislikes:
  Public nuisances, a disdain upon his daily like and most often waking moments. If he has dealt with one, he has dealt with enough for a lifetime.
  Dreadful is the taste of bitterness, in wines and foods--and no less in interactions. He has had far enough, yet still finds himself aplenty with sour, bitter tastes. Perhaps there is a common link between each of those persons. Surely it could not be himself... oh dear...
  Useless are those who cannot act with such efficiency to do what must be done. And inefficient hand is one that need not be moving at all, if not simply out of the way.
  Yet better is it to try in earnest and fail, than to waste one's energies with lies, those that ever unravel and spiral deeper than need be.
  
  Fears:
  Such High and mighty views of himself and his place, or perhaps merely an acceptance of his duty, behind such a confidence would lie a fear of failure. He would do all to reclaim his name, yet beyond the veneer of indifference and austere platitudes what awaits of his reputation ever further diminished rests on his mind. What had become of his family, of their fates? Questions stir in his mind, yet with it all begets the impending sense of ever being lost, no longer having a place where he used to. What small sanctuary had been carved out for himself, gone to never be recovered.
  
  Strengths:
  Logic and parity guide Etdril’s thinking, never to find himself overwhelmed by emotion in his decision making. More than adept in decorum, and far more willing to dirty his hand, he is quite capable of sound judgment and swift action to carry it out–being able to clearly state his reasons for it as he is quite studied for one of his former position. Strength of the mind sits at his core, resolve and persistence behind all of his actions… though some might call it mere obstinance in how he holds onto his guards even when faltered.
  Flaws:
  Such a view from ever so many perspectives falls rather flat upon a heart quite repressed. Denying his own feelings on matters for so long, secluding himself as the Parity Blades tend to, when faced with such overwhelming emotions he is lost in how to deal with them. Ever to reach a greater and greater breaking point where his senses of stability are shaken and resolve prodded at. Views of balance make Etdril few allies, as he is simply just as apt to betray them to hold onto his views. A lifetime of faults and guards has created a barrier of inflexibility for himself and the others. Just as Ballast’s fall, such an irony is lost on him.
  
  ───※ ·· ※───
  
  Hailing from Ansir, the Orarian Theocracy’s capital, the Ventharyn carry a line of Parity Blades. A uniform title for the vindicator and executioners of the nation’s Talionis Law. As such, Etdril had a comfortable upbringing, though disciplined and burdened by their duty. As so often an executioner’s job has been simply a family trade rather than a duty sought out. Sanctified by their god’s creed–they were spared from some of the usual scrutiny that would defile their names, seen rather as holy frightful things.
  
  Despite the Lexen’s place within the Theocracy, creations of the god of whom they have come to worship and model in their order, their numbers have dwindled to the point of minorities. Now a point of political turmoil, there are those that would rather see them displaced–many not having forgotten their place in triumphing over such beings but rather remembering betrayals. With such, would beget plots beneath the eyes of justice… or perhaps harkening to revenge’s call. Such did the house of Parity’s Blades see their downfall–ousted for seeking revenges unapproved by the judges. With or without their trials. The evidence planted and outcry shaking their standing, they found themselves exiled and tried. From this, Etdril had lost his place within their home, their city, and their lands.
  
  Yet captured, he did not find himself bound for incarceration, deformation, nor execution. Rather, he was placed in camps unfamiliar of the neighboring Empire. A Lexen of trained and educated background would surely have their uses. With but a short time within them he has understood his place, and he has waited with bated breath and uttered prayer.
  
  ───※ ·· ※───
  
• Abilities
  
  
  ꧁Stats꧂
  
  Physical
  Strength: 3
  Vitality: 4
  Agility: 4
  Mental
  Wisdom: 3
  Intelligence: 3
  Charisma: 4
  Magical
  Potency: 1
  Affinity: 1
  ───※ ·· ※───
  Skills:
  Etdril’s skills like in that of precision and the ability to carry such things out. Any Parity Blade that had taken more than three swings of their sword upon a condemned would be upon the block themselves. A lifetime’s apprenticeship gave him general skills in weaponry used in his trade, though most beyond his sword were solely out of combat. Interrogations and punishments required his knowledge of anatomy–that those not intended to be lethal need not be by mere mistake.
  Magic:
  Etdril does not command a great power over magic, rather a rudimentary understanding in what is needed to carry out his previous line of work. With no outstanding proficiency in the arcane, nor any greater intelligence than the schooling his pedigree afforded him, it is what any might start out with; a measly flame no greater than a candlestick. The young man's magic is naught but a lighter for the kindling upon the pyre, and he bears no delusions of its meager light nor grim origin.
  
  
  Divine Boons:
  Quite curious then, that his god's boon would mock him so. His first blessing, his prayer answered; the Flame of Judgement. Such a grand name, what grand purpose! So akin to that which one might face in the wake of Talis' wrath! None could look such a blessing in the eye of their worshipped, the very one that guides their life's path and wonder... Why? It granted him no great blaze, no raging flame to fell those that have wronged him! Nay, it did naught but give that measly spark a divine hue of Talis' silvers and golds. Perhaps its purpose had greater reason beyond his current comprehension, left with nothing more than a party trick to dance upon his finger or lick his palm.
  
  
• Divine Patron
  
  
  ꧁T A L I S꧂
  
  Aliases:
  Vitriol’s Parity, Tal
  Gender/Pronouns:
  Most often depicted Male
  Domains:
  Justice and Revenge
  Motive for choosing their champion:
  With piety and devotion, a life given to his will, Etdril’s prayer had reached him more keenly than he could have expected. One devoted to his balance, yet so sorely betrayed. None would fight harder in his name to see his plucked eye reclaimed.
  
  ───※ ·· ※───
  
  Framed in a long sheen of neutral grays, silvers and golds etched into darkened form are most often obscured with cloaks of light drapery. His form is looming, and eyes gleaming–the scars of past wrongs ever scraped into his visage. For whom his name is invoked, and those that would see Talis manifest for their pleas–he would seldom come as he is unbiased, but rather in one of two variations of such.
  
  For those that would see his justice done...
  
  Spoiler

  
  For those that would see his justice done, the grays take upon a lightness, the etchings that of gold. Though he remains in his drapery, it is what he carried that differs. Accompanied with a sword, the call of righteousness bore that of scales, that he might weigh what was lost, though oft dripping in red undertones beneath the scales. Upon his eyes rests a blindfold, unable to see the bias that might shake the scales.
  Those that beget his vengeance...
  
  Spoiler

  Those that beget his vengeance, he would come to them in vitriol. Darkened hues of the bleakness spiral, the silver of weaponry taking his veins. The piercing gleam of his eyes merely worsened by the covering of but one of him by his hair. Though he still bears his sword, in his other hand he bears an eyeball. Whether his or another’s, the message is ever clear to those that would hear his words.
  
  
  However his truest form…
  
  Spoiler

  It bears eyes that bore into the very soul, to see the truths that account for every wrong. To crumple them beneath the weight of righteous wrath and vitriol’s ire. Often wreathed in the fires of retribution and flames of retaliation. Though no mortal has seen such a sight, to be crushed under the might of order, if they had and lived to speak of it… perhaps they might speak of the small gleam of glee taken beneath that gaze as he inflicts upon them their damning sentence.
  
  
  ───※ ·· ※───
  Personality:
  Talis is one of an iron fist cloaked in genteal passivity. Fully taken by his own ideals, he oft sets himself apart from the godly squabbles of mere inconsequential matters. Only when things irk him enough to call his attention would he partake in their frivolity. Stoic though he carries himself, the anger that revenge would decry may sit beneath him, bustling just as much with his pride as it does the amusement drawn from the relief of the corrected scales.
  
  Likes:
  Equipoise will guide the world to order, all in a controlling hand. Justice to bring evil to heel, and vengeance that denies the virtuous excess power.
  Punishment will beget obedience, new forms found each day.
  Wars by mortal hand would right their wrongs without intervention, yet his name would be called regardless.
  What is a god when there is not a reason to invoke their power?
  
  Dislikes:
  Indecision only stalls what must come to pass, being unable to choose the path before them, unknowing of what is correct. Those that cannot rise to such challenges and duties are simply... unneeded.
  Mortal morality is so oft missed to his ears, often contradictory to one another, unable to see the bigger picture.
  When they beget his wrath, yet are unsatisfied, they might claim his own contradictions... though doubt is not to be tolerated.
  Gods need not yield to mortal expectation, they are the ones to bend to their will.
  
  ───※ ·· ※───
  It is unknown which created Talis. Some believe the mythos that he had been formed from the plucked eye of a traitor, or birthed of the mortals’ first cry for vengeance, some even believe he had pulled himself from the blood of a man begetting justice upon his death–thus did his will take form manifested. Perhaps such ties to the mortal’s prayers are what give him an appearance far closer to them than some of his godly brethren. With Justice and Revenge reckoned in his beck and call, he was just as easily associated with law and punishment–and the order they’d restore.
  
  Yet his order was one beyond the pleas of morality, preferring a balance between opposing sides rather than determining who was ‘right’. Thus did he influence the mortals–those that would reach their hand for things they cannot have would lose it. Those that dare bear their blade would feel the same upon their back. It was cruelty in the eyes of some, righteous in the eyes of others.
  The world would not all conform to such order, however, wars calling his name ever more in their pleas for righting their injustices, a vengeance to their pain. He could only ever hope to try to bring such equilibrium in so harsh a justice. When the gods themselves began to war, his neutrality would further this ideal. Sending his creations forth with his word, they would act in his place throughout the world and those that would bring imbalance with their injustice. His involvement did not beget alliship, only temporary alignment of goals as he sought to keep the powers of the gods within a parity. That not one would hail over high and all.
  
  Such would he involve himself in some of their battles far more directly, bearing the wounds for his temporary breaks from impartiality to restore what he thought would best benefit the mortal realms. He would act merely a judge for their actions and try that they might not escape the scale’s tips… even if ought more came as punishments to their creations and their own machinations. Gods themselves, after all, need not comply to the mortal compass of what is right.
  
  Though perhaps now in his participation, he has come to an enlightenment of ruling above each of them–a watchful hand of law and order. Or perhaps he wishes to maintain such a peace in his participation. That not even the champions with blessings divine might escape the turning wheel of justice in revenge.
  
  
  
  
  Spoiler: Themes

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

​

 

[supermartinbros]

Seripha Agfel

• Basic
• Appearance
• Persona
• Abilities
• Divine Patron

• 
  
  
  
  
  Name: Seripha Agfel
  
  Race: Human
  
  Age: 18
  
  Gender/pronouns: Female, She/Her
  
  Divine Patron: Paradox - The counterbalance of the lost.
  
  
  Spoiler: Theme

  *Theme:
  
  
• Appearance
  Appearance:
  
  
  
  *Appearance Description: Long straight dirty blonde hair which reminds people of hay flowing down to her waist, key-lime green eyes, having skinny long limbs, and a short stature. Seripha has many small scars over her hands, and feet from working as a slave.
  
  Height: 5’1
  
  Weight: 107 lbs
  
  Eye color: Key-lime green
  
  Hair color: Dirty blonde
  
  Scars/Tattoos/Birthmarks: Has small cutting scars on hands and feet. Seripha has one tattoo on her left leg when she was a little girl, all members of the Capiliax have this certain tattoo, modifying it to their liking but they all have one same symbol, a shape of an arrow head, which is one it is used to identify the members of the tribe.
  
• Persona
  Personality: Since childhood Seripha always had a hard time communicating on what she wanted, how she thought, as a result she was often shunned from other children, and raised as a very socially awkard person who has a hard time understanding others. She gently likes to support others without using much words, as she believes actions speak louder than words. As such she does not interact with many around her, slowly becoming a more and more strange person when interacting with others. However Seripha is not a inconsiderate person, she does understand others but simply lacks communications skills. She prefers to stay quiet and watch and support the main leaders, and prefers to be a follower than a leader.
  
  
  Likes: Food, Family, animals, knowledge, laughter, fun festivities, peace,
  
  Dislikes: Slavery, death, Injustice, dark alleyways,
  
  Fears: Heights, Dark, and Being Lost
  
  Strengths:
  
  Keen Eye - Although being young Seripha has a keen eye realizing things quick, this is probably due to being separated from her tribe then to be forced into the harsh world with no preparation. She is able to quickly tell if something seems off about something by using this she has been able to avoid dangerous situations before.
  
  Street Smart - Although Seripha is illiterate, she knows how to survive from watching her sisters find out tip and tricks to live without any adults. Instead of using academic knowledge you have to use her head rational to determine if she could be in possible danger and know how to survive. For this matter she is good at bars gaining things as a low price by watching her sisters fail when they were younger but she learned from their mistakes.
  
  Flaws:
  
  Pessimistic - Seripha is not the most optimistic although she is realistic she is also quite a pessimist when it comes to situations she would never bring herself to say it out loud but she doubts from time to time whether something would truly function.
  
  Illiterate - Although Seripha was learning how to read and write when she was in Capiliax, she was immediately put to work after being separated from her tribe. As a result she cannot read or write, although she can write simple words and read simple sentences she is extremely ashamed of this fact.
  
  
  Bio/Backstory: Seripha was from the nomadic-like tribe, the Capiliax, where all members were required to keep traveling with no stable home. Being the youngest of 3 girls, Seripha had always followed her sisters lead, admiring their courage and strength however to this day, she retreats not stopping them from going out their camp. They were young children, only the ages of 8, 12, and 13, they decided to venture out at night. It was a careless and rash mistake but none of them realized till when they came back, their tribe was gone. It was a truly devastating moment. Seripha remembered the bitter cold morning when she realized that her tribe left without them. As of such, the oldest of the sisters, Rafi, tried to find a place for them to stay. They were only children which meant they could not find work, her oldest sister always felt guilty in her mind for bringing both her younger siblings out due to her mistake.
  
  As such they almost starved to death until a young elderly couple took them up in the outskirts of Niolyan, it was a nice quaint place. Seripha had soon gotten used to the stable house, and the work which they had to do. The elderly couple had treated Seripha and her sisters like family which they had now considered their grandparents. Her older sister now, 16 took up the work and helped the elderly couple but due to their naivety of the world they would sometimes lose money to scammers. Seripha, growing up and watching these type of people soon found out a way to stay away from dangerous people. The siblings lived in peace. It might;ve been harsh during winters or summers but they were happy alongside their ‘grandparents’. Seripha should’ve been more careful, when she saw the first flames of the city and the smell of rotting flesh.
  
  Screams and cries were there that day and a few belonged to Seripha when her two sisters were killed when they were running away, due to Seripha being an adult, she was taken away from Niolyan as a slave. Even while working in the camp she still suffers from the memories of her sisters being killed and the worry of her grandparents.
  
• Abilities
  Stats:
  
  Physical: (Attributes pertaining to the Body)
  
  • Strength: 1
  • Vitality: 2
  • Agility: 5
  Mental: (Attributes pertaining to ones mind and psyche. These stats also determine what sorts of magic one may be able to wield)
  
  • Wisdom: 5
  • Intelligence: 2
  • Charisma: 2
  Magical: (Attributes pertaining to one's magical capabilities and potential)
  
  • Potency: 2
  • Affinity: 4
  
  Skills:
  
  Hiding tracks - As a part of the tribe which hid their tracks, Seripha also knows how to hide her tracks as well.
  Exceptional cooking - With the smallest ingredients Seripha can make the most savory meals.
  
  Magic: N/A
  
  Divine Boons:
  
• Divine Patron
  
  
  Name: Paradox
  
  Aliases: Master of Mazes, The one who watches, Lost God,
  
  Gender/Pronouns: All genders, all pronouns (Often referred to he)
  
  Domains: Mazes and Memories
  
  Motive for choosing their champion: The weaker ones always struggle for life the strongest so they use whatever means necessary to gain what they need.
  
  
  *Appearance Description: Paradox is very much a mystery, he does not have a true absolute form which humans can perceive with their normal eyes as a result he appears to be a shrouded shadow among the eye, that a human can easily miss. When he talks his voice is of man, woman, child and old, warped and distorted.
  
  Personality: Paradox is often very curious, he does not understand humans and their obession with life and fear of death. He feels nothing for his champions and once they are dead. He is extremely narcissistic, and apathetic. As he cannot understand why mortals cling to such weird desires.
  
  He does not go out of his way to help someone and if they do wish for his help he usually takes something in return. He is prideful, and enjoys the limelight as he views weaker gods as pathetic as well as mortal to be even more pathetic, when he views a stronger god, he does respect them but never does anything to harm is reputation. Paradox does not injure or harm humans but does not wish to help them either, unless he gets something in return for his actions he will never act based off the kindness of his heart.
  
  
  
  Likes: Entertainment, Glory, looking through mortal’s memories.
  
  Dislikes: Other gods meddling with business, the humans begging,
  
  Bio/Backstory: Paradox does not remember anything from when or why he appeared, he simply appeared one day with nothing, in the middle of a maze. It is assumed he was formed by the memories of lost people with no aim, which led him to being ambition-less as well. As he longed for some ambition, he decided to watch the mortals struggle in their lives. This was entertainment to the bored God. He wishes to make the mortals suffer more, as if he was watching a play or show, just waiting for it to keep going. Among the gods, Paradox is one the least with the desire to unite the humans. He watches humans by playing and watching through their memories. However he has never done any harm to humans at all. He does not help or harm the mortals. In his mind for someone to gain something they must lose something in the process.
  
  
  
  
  Spoiler: Theme

  *Theme:
  
  
  

 

[Ayan]

WIP

Character Sheet

• Base
• Appearance
• Persona
• Abilities
• Divine Patron

• Base
  Name: Melina
  
  Aliases: Mel
  
  Race: Hybrid
  
  Age: 21
  
  Gender/pronouns: Female she/her
  
  Divine Patron: Umbra
  
  
  Melina - Dance In the Dark
• Appearance
  
  
  
  
  *Appearance Description: Since her enslavement, she's become more emancipated, and her hair has been cut short, she also rarely gets to dress as well.
  
  Height: 173 cm
  
  Weight: 58 kg
  
  Eye color: Brown
  
  Hair color: Brown
  
  Scars/Tattoos/Birthmarks: She has various scars along her back, most coming from her time enslaved. She also has a droplet shaped birthmark on her collarbone.
  
• Persona
  Personality: Melina is affable, friendly, and by some counts, whimsical. She has a strong sense of humor and a decently strong sense of will. She is loud spoken and passionate in nearly anything she does, but she is also fond of observing her surroundings closely. She spends most of her time obfuscated by shadow, but remains vain regardless. Despite her somewhat jovial attitude, she's a cynic at heart, and also finds herself fairly pragmatic. She is incredibly grounded while presenting the air of someone barely connected to the real world.
  
  Likes: Music, Poetry, Comedy, the letter M, the feeling of fear, the fine things in life
  
  Dislikes: Slavery, Nobles, Bright Light, the letter W, the feeling of comfort, looking disheveled
  
  Fears: Scorpions, The Dark, the letter Z, the feeling of excitement
  
  Strengths:
  Puppet Master: Melina is excellent at creating plans and seeing them through, and is an excellent manipulator.
  
  Facing Fears: Melina has embraced many of her fears, and use them as strengths, embracing them despite her discomfort. In other words, she's brave, in the classic sense.
  
  Entertainer: Having experience as a minstrel and dancer, she rarely is dull to be around.
  
  Flaws:
  
  Outspoken: While she may not explain all of her plots, she will say her thoughts on essentially anything, damn the consequences.
  
  Hallucinations : She regularly sees or hears things that aren't quite there, despite finding comfort in them, they can be terrifying, and often confusing.
  
  Pragmatic: She does not honey her words unless absolutely needed, and does not try to preserve the feelings of those around her.
  
  Bio/Backstory:
  Melina was born in the north of the Mathean Empire, her father was a soldier, her mother a potter. She took after neither. She never had the physical strength or endurance of her father, and would have made a lousy soldier. At the same time she lacked patience and the discipline to take up a decent craft like her mother. It seemed that in all, she'd have a fairly unexceptional life. That was until her fifth birthday. She awoke in the middle of the night in the attic she called her room. It was pitch black, though her feline eyes let her make out the barest of details. There was a storm outside, and some shelf below her crashed to the floor, stopping her from opening the trapdoor that would have offered escape. Instead, she was isolated, scared, and helpless. This was the first time she heard the voices. Whispers that she weren't quite sure if she was actually hearing. They comforted her, assured her the fear she felt made her powerful, that the dark was her friend. The voices told her to sleep, and hummed her a lullaby to do so. Ever since, she's been absolutely terrified of the dark, but also somehow comforted by it. Whenever she immersed herself in it, she'd hear such wonderful music, and see such graceful dancing creatures. She always felt like she was being watched, but she couldn't ever quite resist, like an addiction she'd find herself again and again immersed in the darkness, alone and vulnerable.
  
  By the age of 13 she had gotten the grasp on the fundamentals of dark magic, though failed to truly do anything noticeable with it, and the darkness had become her muse. She had taken an interest in song and dance, learning to read remarkably fast when presented with poetry instead of religious text and instructional material. She had a natural talent for instruments and a keen ear for composition. and she left the house at the age of 16, becoming a traveling minstrel, entertaining and singing the empire's praises, writing her music in the pitch black, as the voices grew louder and the visions more intense. Such terrible, beautiful things. She had learned many languages, and grew fascinated by other cultures, inspired by her own somewhat strange roots.
  
  She had a fairly unremarkable career for four years, and then she made a mistake. Her usual routine in a sizable city tavern, jokes dance and song. Near the end, when she figured the military men who'd care were drunk enough not to, she had sung a chant of freedom, a song criticizing slavery and the empire as a whole. That one damn sergeant, cloaked by shadow so she didn't quite see. He cared.
  
  Her arrest was immediate, and she found herself in chains not long after. She was a lousy slave, unable to build much muscle even in harsh conditions, but still. She heard the whispers. Through her punishments and enslavement, those voices kept her sane.
  
• Abilities
  Stats: (starting stats are distributed between 1-5 (1: Very poor, 2: Below average, 3: Average, 4: Above Average, 5: Exceptional), characters have 15 points to spend on their stats, with the base stats all being 1s and needing only 1 point to increase given stats. Players may also decrease a singular stat to 0 in exchange for getting 16 points to spread between the stats.)
  
  Physical: (Attributes pertaining to the Body)
  
  • Strength: 0
  • Vitality: 2
  • Agility: 3
  Mental: (Attributes pertaining to ones mind and psyche. These stats also determine what sorts of magic one may be able to wield)
  
  • Wisdom: 2
  • Intelligence: 3
  • Charisma: 5
  Magical: (Attributes pertaining to one's magical capabilities and potential)
  
  • Potency: 5
  • Affinity: 3
  
  Skills:
  Melina is an excellent Musician and Dancer
  She's quite good at manipulating people
  When she needs to be, she's good at going unnoticed, able to blend in surprisingly well to a crowd.
  She's a good comic.
  
  Magic: (What sort of magic do they know if any? Discuss this with me before adding it.)
  
  Divine Boons: (The boon/power granted to them by their divine patron, check with me to discuss this one specifically)
  
• Divine Patron
  Name:
  
  Aliases:
  
  Gender/Pronouns:
  
  Domains:
  
  Motive for choosing their champion:
  
  Appearance: (A god may have many forms, as such you may either put only a single form or several)
  
  *Appearance Description:
  
  Personality:
  
  Likes:
  
  Dislikes:
  
  Bio/Backstory:
  
  *Theme: