Fantasy Fading Flame Characters

[ShiyaRose]

Name
Gwenyth
Gender
Female
Age
21 Years Old
Race
Sylvari
Race Description
The Sylvari are a race born from the roots of nature itself. Their flesh is a combination of tree-bark and leaf, and is smooth yet firm to the touch. It is common to see flowers growing out of these people on places like their upper arms and shoulders, and their hair are usually made out of a stronger petal-like substance. They usually "grow" their own clothes, either with their bodies or on special pockets of the forests they live in. Their clothes, like their bodies, are mode from tree-bark and other plant material, and whilst it isn't anywhere near as hardy or strong as man-made clothes, the Sylvari do have the ability to manipulate it at will (at a great expense to their magical energy). Their eyes look the same as human eyes, though of course they are made from some unknown plant material. Their ears have a wide variety of shapes and sizes, some looking more elf-like while others appearing not to have any ears at all. Their hearing and vision is pretty much on par with the humans.

The Sylvari live exclusively in large forests, preferring not to interact with the outside world. They consider themselves to be the caretakers of the forest and will fiercely protect their territories if threatened. Typically the Sylvari will not communicate with outsiders, but with the rapidly changing and new threats emerging they have began to send a small number of their warriors to aid the outside world however they can. To the Sylvari tribes this is considered a test, to see how well they can co-exist with the other races.

The Sylvari speak in their own tongue, however the soldiers being sent out to try to become Guardians are taught English so that they can communicate with the other races.

Ability-wise Sylvari can be classed as Druids. Each Sylvari is different, but all of them have some level of control over the nature around them (which can be considered as Earth magic). This includes the movement of roots and branches, and the ability to speed up the growth of certain plants. Some Sylvari are particularly gifted in certain areas of magic, healing being the most common, and the healers are the ones that are sent out to try and become Guardians. Very few Sylvari actually possess offensive magics, and those few are the ones tasked with protecting the forest against those who wish to cause harm.

A healthy Sylvari will typically live to around 100 years old before they return to the Earth to give their bodies back to nature. When they are buried their bodies will transform and grow into a beautiful tree (which takes many, many years to happen). Some Sylvari believe that the forests are made entirely of their dead brethren, but there is no evidence to that claim. While Sylvari cannot contract diseases from mammals, they are still vulnerable to corruption and rot if they are not careful, which is one of the reasons they scarcely leave their forest homes and why they only send out their healers to aid the outside world.
Appearance
Gwenyth's 'flesh' is pale green in colour, with red roses and thorns growing on her upper arms. Her hair-petals are fuchsia and she usually has it tied up in a pony-tail with some delicate vines. Her eyes are earthly brown (as are most Sylvari's eyes) and she has smooth, feminine features on her face. At night her hair and her roses will glow their respective colour, as well as some small veins under her flesh due to the bio-luminescence qualities the Sylvari possess. Gwenyth is around 5'4" in height, which again is the average height for her people. She weighs around 80 pounds (because they are made from plants they naturally weigh less than the fleshy races).
Personality
The best way to describe Gwenyth would be a charming walking disaster. She is highly inquisitive and naive, her curiosity having the potential to putting her in grave danger. She is very conscious of the fact that she, as a Sylvari, is not as strong or sturdy as her peers but she doesn't let that stop her from getting herself into harms way. Luckily, as a healer, she doesn't go face-to-face with her foes, though she can be found at night training with a sword with hopes to someday be as 'cool' as everyone else. Gwenyth is kind and, as you'd expect, very in-tune to the nature around her. When entering towns or cities Gwenyth becomes very anxious, but she doesn't let that stop her from having a good nosey around! She explores the outside world with almost child-like wonder, which can be very amusing to watch.

In battle Gwenyth is very conscious of her allies and their injuries. She is very empathetic and will go above and beyond to ensure that they are protected and healed.
Equipment
Gwenyth prefers to wear her own grown armour, due to the fact that she can manipulate it and easily repair it. She typically wears it as a long tunic-dress, with plenty of space to move freely. Her attire is usually a few shades darker than her skin colour (she has no control over what colour her armour grows), and will allow her to easily blend in with natural surroundings. Gwenyth isn't opposed to wearing more "normal" clothes if requested, but would always prefer her grown armour over anything else.

Gwenyth does not need a weapon in order to perform her magic, but she does carry hidden daggers and swords she found off dead bodies just in case she is forced into close-quarter combat.
Ability/Powers
Healing
Gwenyth is able to magically close wounds and cleanse infections from her allies. The bigger the wound the more magic she requires to heal, but she can typically heal enough to support her allies efficiently in combat. Gwenyth can also erect magical shields to protect her allies against magical attacks, but the strength on them does depend on the amount of power Gwenyth has left, so if a battle drags on for a long time her shield will grow more and more ineffective the more magic she uses.
Nature
As a feature of her race, Gwenyth is able to manipulate the plants and foliage around her. This is particularly useful for rooting enemies to the ground, or tripping them up. This ability uses a lot of Gwenyth's power, so she only ever uses it if the situation demands it. Also, if there are no trees or plants in the vicinity she naturally cannot make use of this ability.
Creation
Sylvari are able to manipulate and change the shape of their own armour and can even carve temporary weapons out of it. Again, this uses a lot of power and is not something Gwenyth would opt to do in a combat situation unless it is an emergency. Sylvari can also speed the rate of growth in certain smaller plants like herbs and flowers, which can be useful if she is unable to magically cleanse an infection and needs to use more traditional methods to treat a wound. However sh can only grow what is already there, she cannot magically make certain plants appear.
Weaknesses
Fire
Nearly everyone is vulnerable to fire, but to the Sylvari fire is particularly deadly. While a fleshy creature can usually survive getting small burns from fire, Sylvari are pretty flammable in nature and fire can spread throughout their body and kill them in seconds from even minimal contact. Their armour provides a small amount of protection from this, but as it is too made from plant material it isn't the best solution to their fatal weakness.
Limited Power
Sylvari are made from the magic of nature itself, but that does not mean they have a lot of magical energy. Their bodies are more frail than a humans, so too much magic can cause corruption and even death. Therefore, Sylvari are not the most powerful of mages but their abilities do come in handy in the right situations.
Lack of Offensive Magicks
Sylvari can typically only heal and manipulate magic. Unlike other mages, they are not able to control the elements to create deadly spells. Some Sylvari are born with more magic than others and are able to use nature more freely as a weapon against their foes but these Sylvari are considered rare and are never sent out to the outside world. Gwenyth is no exception to this, and is only able to really use her magic to heal and protect in battle. As mentioned, she can use her manipulation power to hold enemies still or trip them up but the cost to her magical doesn't always make it worth using.
Bio
Gwenyth, like all the other Sylvari, was born from the ground (they do not reproduce like mammals, they are plant-like in almost every way). She grew up in her small tribe, which is part of a large network of tribes that connect the Sylvari race. She spent her time growing up communing with nature and learning how to use her gifts, just the same as her peers. Unlike her peers, Gwenyth showed more interest in others about the outside world and put a lot of effort into proving to her elders that she was good enough to be sent out to help the outsiders. Gwenyth picked up the English language with surprising ease, often being called a 'natural' at the complicated language. The day that she was selected by the elder of her tribe to go out and become a Guardian was possibly the happiest day of Gwenyth's life, and takes great pride in representing her people in the war against the darkness.
Others/Extra
When injured, Sylvari can heal themselves by using their nature manipulation powers. They do bleed like any other creature, and can die if wounds are left untreated for too long. They can also regrow lost limbs, though the amount of power that takes will usually leave them incapacitated for several days. ​

 

[SilverFlight]

Bron Tavora
​

Name: Bron Tavora (Coalshadow)

Gender: Male

Age: 26

Race: Oni

- Height: human form: 6’3”, Oni form: 7’5”.
- Weight: human form: 215lbs, oni form 280lbs

• Personality
• Equipment, powers & weaknesses
• Bio

• 
  
  - Mild-mannered
  - Inquisitive
  - Patient
  - Humourous
  - Friendly
  
  Bron has spent only the last few months travelling in the realm of humans. He tries to be soft-spoken and unassuming despite his bulk. At a glance he fits in well, though his avid curiosity for any form of advanced technology (for the era) instantly betrays his more isolated culture and history. Bron has a lot to learn about the world and is extremely curious about anything and everything he is not familiar with, he will ask thoughtful questions and press until he understands. Bron is not often aggressive and has more patience than most of his kind. He is gentle and possesses a wit that is turned more toward laughing with others than at them. His docility is not a sign of a reluctance to fight when combat is needed however, Bron is more than happy to engage if he believes the cause worthwhile. His combat style is braced with patience and level-headed calculation and he rarely makes a move that is not calculated, even in the heat of battle.
• 
  
  Equipment:
  
  A broad-bladed, double-headed axe, forged by a master smith of his people. It is magicked to keep its blades sharp, even in the face of corrosive substances produced by some Darkborne. Bron also carries a reed flute that creates a soft and soothing sound, though this possesses no magical properties. Bron wears a kilt made of fur-lined strips of hard leather and a harness that carries his axe sheath across his back. He wears fur-lined boots as well and like most oni clothing, it is magicked to adjust to both of his forms.
  
  Ability/Powers:
  Quake: Bron can call on the powers of the earth to create a destabilizing earthquake in a 3m radius about himself. This can knock enemies off balance. To do this he must be able to strike the ground with a foot or with the head of his axe. He can localize the shake to a smaller area within the 3m radius. This can be useful if he is fighting a single opponent.
  
  - Stone skin: His earth powers can make his hide in oni form hard as stone and impervious to blunt force attacks. Bron can take a massive beating when this ability is used. Piercing attacks have a lower chance of doing damage and some magic attacks (fire, earth, lightning) are reduced, while others (ice, water) do more damage. Bron cannot keep stone skin in play for long however and drawn out fights are dangerous for him.
  
  - Enhanced strength: Bron in his oni form becomes stronger and able to fight larger enemies head to head. He is able to lift twice his weight in this form.
  
  - Beast senses: Bron has good night vision, excellent hearing and a decent sense of smell in oni form.
  
  Weaknesses:
  
  - Bron is strong but slow, and smaller, quicker enemies have an advantage against him.
  
  - Lifting Bron in the air breaks his connection to his earthy powers, leaving him with just his enhanced strength in oni form.
  
  - Naivete: Bron has much to learn about the human world and its newer technologies. This can set him at a large disadvantage in some settings.
• 
  Bron was fated to be the successor of his family, being the eldest in a long line of children, he was raised with duty at the center of his teachings. His family lived high in the mountains, separated from the great cities of men and the kingdoms that guided the march of progress in their world. The villages of Brontes were scattered and had little contact with other oni families, let alone the rest of the world, but as secluded as his village and family were, they could not mask the troubles that crept up from darker places.
  
  At first Bron gave them little thought, there were Darkborne, the oni learned to fight them in their own ways, using magic, cunning and force. Bron learned too, but after a while he began to wonder about the other races, and how they were fairing in the fights. When Bron earned his twenty-fifth year he descended the mountain to learn the answers to questions that had begun to burn inside him. He saw firsthand how bad things had become and it worried him. He was found by his brothers, in the middle of a ruined human settlement, sifting through the debris, examining every piece of destruction. When he returned home Bron pressed his father to reach out to the empire, join forces and send warriors to help. Brontes refused, seeing it as a ‘human problem’ and even if it were not, the majority of the imperials would likely not appreciate their help. The following year, Brontes, in an effort to ground his son and bind him to their people, announced that he would be stepping down. This created a stir among the families, and there were several challenges issued. Each day for seven days Bron fought and each day he won. On the eighth day, a final challenger stepped forward, but Bron…was nowhere to be found.
  
  He had left his village, his home and his family and struck out to lend his blade to killing Darkborne, even if his people would not. He kept his family name in the lesser form, as technically he had not earned the full title ‘Brontes’, and chose a last name (other people seemed to have those) that in his local tongue simply meant ‘Coal shadow’.

 

[Kabboom]

SilverFlight Accepted!

 

[Malphaestus]

ADALGER van der ASTER
Gender:
Male.

Age:
25.

Race:
Human.

Appearance:
Adalger, often known as Aster, is a rather perplexingly looking individual, a stern facial repetoire accompanied by a messy and unkempt hairstyle further supported by unnervingly dead eyes. Pale white skin, as if from the furthest north one can come, lacking many truly defining features except from his overall appearance and the atmosphere he gives off. Having lived in the darkness for long periods of time, due to his occupation and position within the overall Empire of Light, his appearance can often times be explained by the overall lack of light and medical supplies that most soldiers of the light find commonplace within most standard imperial military forces, being forced to keep his own health in check, as well as those around him, at least in the past, his face and body are covered by rudamentarily treated wounds and scars belonging to the forces of the dark. His body, again, further shows this constant fight against the darkness, for he was unfortunate enough to be cursed with an unnatural upbringing, and for that he has to pay the price by fighting the darkness in its own turf.

-Height: 187cm (6'2'').
-Weight: 68kg (150lbs).

Personality:
Aster lacks many of the foundational aspects that childhood and upbringing imprints onto humans in particular, therefore most simply described, he is rather odd in comparison to most others. Born and raised inside the tent just mere feet from the frontlines and the battlefields of which they often exhibit, he was raised under the iron, albeit still kind and warm, fist of his 'mother', Karoline van der Aster, an Imperial General of the Empire of Light. He learned much from her perplexing and often strange ways of life, and thus before learning to read and write, he learned the necessities of living on the field; which plants are edible and the basic necessities of scavanging and other survival skills.

As he grew up, he learned to think, but nowhere the normal manners of which people usually do; he became an advisor to his mother first and foremost, employed by her own pocket and generally far away from the usual bureacracies found within the peacetime insitituions that govern the military far away from the fields where true leadership is most needed. The General and her other advisors became his mentors, and taught him how to draw the bow, and how to formulate siegeplans on the most fundamental level.

Thus he became a leader by birth, not because he chose it, but because fate seemed it was his particular destiny or something along those lines. Aster was a realist by birth, born far away from the religions and raised within an environment that birthed emotions and feelings that often conflict with those found within 'proper' spheres of civilization. Much like any other child, he absorbed the manners and behaviours of the soldiers and those closest to him, and since the battlefield was his neighbour, it was no doubt that things wouldn't spell particularly good things for the future of this young man once he came into contact with the world beyond his own.

- Simple-minded.
- Confused Hermit.
- Scarred.
- Survivalist.
- Pessimist.
- Calculative.
- Strategist.
- Tactician.

Biography:
Aster's first memories are filled with fogginess and wilderness; his first sights of the world being taken from the bottom of a cliff edge, far from the rest of the civilized world. Never would he know the usual warmth and safeties of farmers and carpenters far beyond the edges of the Empire's borders, removed from the endless battle between life and death; dark and light. As he found himself immobile at the bottom of the cliff, in the midsts of the chasm of a vast canyon surrounding himself and his immediate surroundings, he was wisked away by a woman flanked by plated men holding a banner most elaborately decorated.

Thus began his life in this world, within the arms of an aging woman in plate, his naked body further frozen at the touch of the steel surrounding her form. It was a strange sensation that still lingers within his mind to this day, for in that frozen state, he felt an unceasing warmth beyond any reasonable explanation. During the journey back to the home of these mysterious figures, Aster tried to wrap his child-like head around what was happening, but to no avail. He found himself at the mercy of his captor, but luckily for him, those who spirited him away were no harbingers of doom or doomsday cultists, but kindred men and women with warm hearts and resolves of steel.

He became the child of the 12th imperial army, under the command of his newfound mother, Karoline. There he grew up, learned, and discovered with the characteristic childish opportunism and wonder that only children could reasonably display. He became a mascot of sorts, and under the guiding hand of Karoline, he grew up into an exceptional soldier and student of his mother's ideals and knowledge. He learned the way of the military in the most suitable place of learning available, the frontlines, and those around him seemed to gain something from his presence as well, maybe a sort of connection to their homes, and through their joys and tribulations together with Aster, they could somehow beam those emotions to their loved ones at home.

At least those are the thoughts of Aster now, in his current state. Having lived in the 12th Imperial Army through victory and defeat, through loss and gain, he is filled with a confused mind and strange beliefs and views of the world that is. As clandestine as it sounds, on his 12th birthday, he discovered some form of power within him that none seemed that have thought possible or reasonable, the abilities of a guardian manifested within him. His mother, Karoline, disturbed by the news as they reached her ears on the frontier, away from their camp where Aster always resided, she rushed to him, leaving her chief advisor in command of the battlefield.

As she returned, she found Aster surrounded by soldiers who she had just left behind mere hours ago on her transit to the camp, and confusion and anger both manifested themselves in her mind as she lashed out her orders and threats of court martial towards them, only to find them disappear within mere moments as Aster's face turned grey at the sight of his mother's rage. The connection was clear to Karoline, even if it might've been a mystery to everyone else, and she grabbed Aster's hand and rushed him to her tent as rapidly as she could possibly manage. She explained to Aster, that who he was, and what the world viewed as desirable, did not overlap. Being born on the battlefield forces most to sacrifice parts of who they are in order to survive and prosper on the battlefield; to smile and laugh at the pause of battle is to survive, and to survive most became desensitized to what humans themselves were destined to become. It was the soldier's sacrifice to uphold their nation and world.

Aster could not understand the deepness and weight of her words for many years, but Karoline had it arranged with whatever influence she had within the Imperial Bureaucracy, that his discovery as a Guardian was not successful, and that he would be raised and groomed into a warrior within the ranks of the military. Something like a Guardian allied to the Military became a huge uproar once it was discovered on Aster's 17th birthday, and through careful maneuvering and potential sacrifice of the relationship that she and Aster had, she had it arranged that Aster became a part of the infamous Darklight force; a form of deathsquad arranged by the Empire of Light to fight the darkness on their own land by sacrificing those who are seen as unfit for the lands of light.

Aster was absorbed by the 27th Darklight Force, a larger collection of Darklight teams operating under a sort of distantly cooperative manner to coordinate and annihilate the Darkborne by whatever unthinable tactics and manners concievable. Aster was forcefully shipped off towards the dark lands, being sacrificed by his mother and his family, the 12th Imperial Army. Further confused, and alienated by those he loved, he was forced to adapt to the ways of the 27th Darklight Force, being assigned to the 7th team where, through simple survival, he would become not only the sole survivor of the team itself, but also the 27th darklight force in its entirety. Now he tries his best to accomplish the tasks which once would be assigned far more individuals than merely himself for whatever reason beyond to him.

Equipment:
Worn Ornate Plate,
Twin Swords.

Power:
- MANIFEST WAR: Aster's rather unusual ability allows him to manifest, from his own psyche, warriors to wage war alongside him. The appearance of these soldiers mimic and take inspiration from those of the military of which he is so familiar with, wearing both banner and uniform, following formation and protocol, and heeding his commands and tactics. The strenght and number of these soldiers and directly related to his psyche, as they are psychic projections, and as his abilities and understanding of his power improve, so will his ability to field larger and better swathes of soldiers in turn. Due to his experiences in the dark lands, his skills with both martial and psychic power have increased as his challenges have mounted against him.

Weaknesses:
- First to Die: Aster is, paradoxically enough, the first into the fields of battle. Always.

- Drawn by Fate, Never Reason: Aster moves on due to forces beyond his own understanding. As a pessimist, and a calculative one with subconscious suicidal tendencies in terms of frontline combat, how he manages to move on, and in such determination, is anyone's guess. Though it might take him into the cave of the devil himself without as much as a flinch.

- What is Humanity?: Aster is, at best, a lacking human, and at worst, beyond the rhimes and reasons of any one individual. As a Guardian, albeit one without proper education, this spells disaster for his future, since Guardians work best when in a team, and teamwork is a thing long lost to him. It is therefore maybe no surprise to many that Aster is, unfortunately, most comfortable when coordinating with himself.

- Pulled by Strings: Though never something Aster would ever come to understand, all his life he has been pulled by the whims of those closest to him for their own unconscious desires and aspirations. Because of that, he is far more succeptible than most to being manipulated.

Others/Extra:
Aster has a pet Moth named Bastur, a rather long-lived and endurable specimen long since molded by both nature and the elements of light and darkness. It is a creature far beyond the usual cases of which a moth would typically relate, having lived for almost 12 years, as opposed to the typical lifespan of a few days. Aster speaks and directs his thoughts towards the moth as if his best friend, thought he is not beyond doing the same for the soldiers of which he brings forth through Manifest War. Although due to the fact that Bastur is not directly linked to the psyche of Aster, Bastur becomes a far more reliable, and also lovable, subject for Aster.

 

[Kabboom]

Malphaestus accepted boi

 

[LoneSniper87]

Name: Kaelynn Sinaran, 'Embersworn'

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Race: Incruscan, her animal part is that of a wolf, with ears and sharp canines. Her eyes resemble the piercing Amber of a wolf as well.

Race Description: (if it is an original one, if it's a default race then just leave this blank)

Appearance (Pic is preferred, but not required.)
-Height 5'10
-Weight 158 lbs
She obviously is not in jeans
Personality:
- caring
- secretive
- religious
- protective

Equipment:
Bladed Staff, two daggers, leather armor, a holy symbol of her goddess, some healing potions and equipment

Ability/Powers:
Blessings of the Queen Of Chaos- After a short prayer to her goddess she can do certain things with this power.

Power of the 5 Chromatic Heads- Kaelynn can infuse her weapon with the powers of one of the five heads of her deity, fire(searing from the blade), ice(ice forms on target), lightning(electrical current goes through target) poison(poison blade), and corrosive(slowly eats at metal, only really works over longer fights, otherwise shows up as chips.)

Lady of Disguise- Using this power she can change her appearance, hiding her ears or even looking a person of similar size but of a decent species. The changes are illusory. This ability got her her nickname, as she uses it to appear as if engulfed in flame or with flame trailing her eyes and hands.

Life transfer- Kaelynn can heal others at the cost of herself. She feels the pain they feel as it is removed, but it isn't physical.

Weaknesses:
Kaelynn is not the strongest, and this isn't much for hitting hard or getting hit hard.

Kaelynn, while trying her best to help others, due to her lineage, is highly discriminated against, and thus doesn't generally get help from others when needed.

Bio: Kaelynn Sinaran was born in a secluded part of town, even for incruscans. Her family was not like the rest. They did not worship the traditional religion of the Empire of Light. But she had got her powers all the same from her own religion. This matter she had kept a secret as she trained to be a guardian. Her fighting took after those of monks she saw, quick and light, but also precise and beautiful. She progressed quickly in her training, going to the field at a younger age. She had formed a reputation quickly, a women in flames, protecting those who could not protect themselves. She became a powerful figure, but with a name that was not her own.

 

[Trappy]

"Which lowlife should I dispose of next?"
View attachment 538507
View attachment 538508

Name: Tyber Cyri
Gender: Male
How old are you, kid: 17-19 Years old ( he has no idea what his age is but assumes he is around that age)

What do you do for a living? (Occupation/Position):Corporate/Governmental Mercenary

Appeareance ( on top of post)

Is working with you gonna be a pain? It's only a pain if you run out of money...

(Personality): internally depressed due to the loss of his parents at an early age he longs and craves for a mother and father figuré as during his entire life he grew up without one and was not taught morales and ethics.

What are you good at? (Strengths): Close quarters combat combined with firearms mastery, Climbing/parkour, endurance of a chase,

What do you got on'ya? (Gear/equipment): metal-ballistic armor (red colored parts of armor), ammo bandolier across the chest, satchel for carrying important information. Also in a pocket a deck of cards.
Weapons:
Blunderbuss rifle
Katana
8x dueling matchlock pistols (2x on front chest, 2x on waist sides, 2x on back, 1x per boot( hidden)
Handcuffs/shackles

Anything important I need to know? (Weaknesses/Character Flaws):
Doesent follow always from command ( if told to capture not kill but if suspect pulls out a weapon he will put in at least 5 rounds into the suspect before thinking about what he was doing..... basically triggerhappy )
Depression as he has no idea who made him (parents) and if they are alive or not as it brings mental damaging and fixation to him for that longing feeling of reunion or adoption.
Persuasion gullible: When told anything about claiming to be his father or mother his will to fight externally perished as the internal struggle starts to fight as he will quickly diminish to nothing in willpower and will bend to his father's mother's will to try to be a good son he has never proven them to be " I will make you proud mother..."
PTSD: the mercenary contracts assigned during his youthful years has perminantly scarred his brain as he can still remember the terrors of the fighting he had to do and he expeeiences he went through.

Any hobbies? (Likes):
Love to spend time playing with his card deck
drinking from time to time, playing video games . Payday!!!

(Character Goals/Motivations): The want from rags to ritches and to become wealthy first class from being born poor via blood money hopefully finding his parents tho he never seen their face of any trace of them...

Background:
* start recording* "My childhood I can't explain much about because I never got to see my family . I never had the chance to see who my parents were and what they looked like . Heck, I done know if I have any siblings even ya know ?

Anyways as you know I had a shitty childhood but the only positive was that I was living was there were soup kitchens around the corner. Normally I had to fend for myself for almost everything in the streets. Food, water, shelter, clothes, you name it all those things were scarce and it was very difficult for me to move on in this struggle. Of course as kids we were prime suspects of muggings from adults as I've been mugged before twice before I warned up enough money to get a black market pistol at the age of 13 and wasted a entire clip upon my perpetrators. From there life only went more and more down the rabbit hole as the years go on there were posters advertising mercenary contracts to help the government In a last ditch effort to fight back against the evils of society and expansion to recolonize broken domes. I was one of the first ones to sign up and at the age of fifteen I was accepted into a mercenary company, Illyria Corporations where they trained, clothed, and fed me for the dangerous life ahead .

Tis was only three months into the corporation that the company was at a emergency of needing more men to go complete contracts that are requested by the government. Unfortunately i was one of them, a greenhorn that hasn't even passed through half the training program, sent to an all out war zone for money.

I was dreading this to happen as the contract I was sent to with others, experienced and rookies to purge a gang hideout. I made sure I was well strapped on tight and reloaded for myself before entering the war zone.

The field of its own was nothing more than a bloody massacre with gang members and mercenaries littering the road as only five seconds into the field of battle the person next to me was shot in the head, instantly killed as my visor is partially splattered in blood and brain tissue. With pure instincts kicking in I took cover and started to lay suppressive fire at the enemies with my pistol ( cuz I had nothing else back then) when requested for my brothers to move up yet every time they move up one or two of them get shot as it makes the idea of how risky the job is. As the day progressed there were only a handful of gang members but unfortunately only a handful of My comrades as well. The brothers have moved up and died and now it's my turn to move in. With a deep sigh and a few tears rolling down from the pure terror of the field I charge with all my speed in to the next cover location only to get shot directly in the chest by a bullet.

My body fell down under the cover as I cried in mercy thinking that I was dead only to open my eyes seeing that my armor caught the bullet, saving me from a gruesome death. From there I started to get my shit together as my nerves start shaking rapidly, grabbing my gun once more to hear some footsteps run faster and faster towards me .. and it wasn't on my side...

My hands shaking, my eyes darting, my body tensing up, I could barely control myself as over the cover one of the gang members was carrying a knife as it brought back memories of the mugging earlier in my years. Making me scream in anger and release three bullets into his gut , the target downed but alive as I crawled to him and grabbed his knife , stabbing over and over the crying her dying man as I couldn't think at the moment other than to simply kill...

The body now lifeless and having about twenty stab wounds all over his body I finally received a pat on my shoulder as I look up gun pointing at whoever patted me with my finger on the trigger only to realize it was another mercenary " the contract is finished.." he said before walking off to the troop carrier. I look at my hands and then around me as I see the terror of war.. this is my new life ...

Two long years of this job, two fucking years I killed over and over and over until the point that killing another life makes no difference anymore.. now I have to do this contract by some guy to go kill a family of vampires. It won't be hard right? This is Tyber signing off..." * end recording*

The attachments (for his appearance I'm assuming) aren't showing by the way, so if you'd like to fix that?

 

[Lenny2000]

The attachments (for his appearance I'm assuming) aren't showing by the way, so if you'd like to fix that?

I'll fix it right away

 

[idalie]

"Won't answer yer question, 'cause I ain't got a bleedin' clue what the answer is."

Name:
Terrwyn Cadfael

Gender:
Male

Age:
24

Race:
Human

Race Description:
N/A

Appearance:

((6'3" | 180 lbs))
A sinewy and slim built lad, Terrwyn holds strength in his form beyond what you'd expect of a wizard who has his nose in a book, mainly because he's a marathon runner when it comes to escaping any form of authority. Shaggy, uncut hair is stuffed under his wide-brimmed hat; reaching just below the nape of his neck and looking like he was attacked by a pair of sentient shears. In an attempt to seem less of a complete failure to his father he retains a thick, yet short beard giving emphasis to his cheekbones and slimming the face -- perhaps to seem more of a man and less of an academic ... this has only succeeded in making him look more like one. Grey eyes underly dark brows that are oft drawn together in utter confusion or attempting to pronounce faulty words in ancient tongues, a crooked nose centring his features that's been broken in more than one tavern brawl. Found dressed in raggedy travellers attire and fingerless gloves, usually with a messenger bag thrown over his shoulder and the recognisable red feather in his hat.

Personality:
A real city boy through and through, whilst he's more at home in some rundown backstreet with prostitutes on the corner Terrwyn is tougher than he appears and hardy out in the wilds. Raised in a working man's household, he's not what you expect when you think of magic and sophistication. He's magic, but magic in the way that'll insult your mother, flip off the guardsmen and then jump a fence only to have it collapse on him to be caught and put in the cells to sober up. Drunk and disorderly charges make up half his resume, the other half being medical fees to stitch up his broken face when he starts on someone bigger than him. He doesn't claim to know everything, but he'll sure as hell try to put something together from here and there to give a plausible explanation. He's clumsy, unprepared, and subsists on improvisation. Nevertheless, if you need a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to, or a drink to raise, you'll have a friend in Terr. Knowledgable when it comes to strange and highly useless trivia, he's a blank slate at history and a little lacking on the academics. As much as he may have his faults, the young man is loyal and surprisingly courageous. He'll make you laugh, groan with disappointment in his ever worsening puns, and wish you'd never met him thanks to his dodgy brewing habits. The curse Terrwyn really suffers, is the fact he swears like a sailor and talks like one too.

Equipment:
- His grimoire
- An old, outdated staff with it's entwined crystal for more focus on spells
- A range of strange potions, politely put to 'get you off your tits' that he sells to the unsavoury alleyway types.
- Small dagger for cutting plants, whittling, but rarely used in combat unless necessary.
- Dried fruit and meat as rations, besides a water canteen. This is mixed with various dried herbs and Terrwyn hasn't a clue what half of them do.
- Coloured candles, chalk, and mortar and pestle.

Ability/Powers:
Premonition - He was born with the innate ability to see glimpses into the future occasionally. Unfortunately, his premonitions are rather lame and usually tell him about knocking something over, weather, and someone's favourite colour. Even then, predicting his grandfather's death did nothing due to fate taking the elderly as it does.

Grimoire - Terrwyn has his grandfather's grimoire, a spellbook that has various incantations and herb knowledge. These spells are currently limited to the elemental basics and a little bit of ritualistic arcane here and there. He's not yet ready to progress into adept and master level. However, to utilise the spells he needs to recite it to mind. At the moment, the only one he can fully grasp is blasting poor creatures and people with fire. Again, since he's a young wizard, Terrwyn cannot do feats, grand spells of great magnitude, or tie his shoelaces with just a click of his fingers.

Magic Bloodline - Due to his inherited talents, Terrwyn is sensitive to the use of magic and thus other people's auras. He can often distinguish where and when magic was used within a timeframe of a few hours from the signature it leaves behind. Dark magic often makes him unusually cold and gloomy. The only benefit is Terrwyn can innately understand, draw, and read runic inscriptions.

Nimble - Nimble fingers and nimble toes, you need them to grow up in a rough area. As mentioned, Terr is quite the sprinter but even more so, he can leap, sneak, and dance with the best of them.

Weaknesses:
- He doesn't wear armour and can easily get run through with a sword if he's not careful. This ties into him not being exceptionally strong, or gifted when it comes to combat. He might be able to survive a tavern brawl but put him toe to toe with a skilled swordsman and he's as good as dead.
- Heights of exceptional awe cause him to lock up or panic, the best advice is not to look down.
- To do anything more than a quick defensive or offensive combat spell, it requires him to trawl through his grimoire and find exactly what to do. This might end in a small explosion, summoning of a confused fertility spirit, or actually getting it right.
- He is not prepared. In the slightest. For anything. When he dies, he'll be late to his own funeral.

Bio:
Raised in a family that could've starred in a one-time-only theatre play of adulterers, depression, booze, and a sunny disposition -- it's a surprise Terrwyn didn't suffer any long-lasting psychological damage. Or well, any more than he needed. Born in some midwife's shack whilst his father was out drinking it was just the beginning of his misguided life. The Cadfael's used to be well-known in the casting community, Terrwyn's grandfather a scholar who once lectured at the best universities and places of learning, until it was learned of his string of affairs, gambling, and affiliation with dark magics. He fell from grace and into bankruptcy, his only daughter marrying a butcher with a bad temper and his wife leaving in the middle of the night to start anew. His grandson, however, showed aptitude. Had the spark. So between a young boy's foolish exploits, Terr was awarded luxuries many of the poor were not -- the ability to read and write, even in other tongues but never fluent.​

His father, of course, hated it. He believed that the son of a working man should be in the shop, instead of focusing all his efforts on the use of pansy spells and arcane trickery. After the cat was used to cast an invisibility spell Terr's father came to the end of his tether. This caused the lad to work part-time in the butchers and use his lunchtimes to obsess over magic. It was a passion not easily doused. Unfortunately, he had his fathers vices of drinking, brawling, and cursing out the authorities. From his mother, he picked up the patience of a saint and a lax attitude, you had to have one in a house like that. After Terrwyn, his parents managed to have four daughters. His sisters both the apple of his eye and absolutely despicable.

After his grandfather passed when Terrwyn was seventeen, he inherited the grimoire which he still adds to. It was around that time Terr also got kicked out the house, his father saying something along the lines of "he was a man and had to make his way in the world alone now". So he got into some shady business between being a magic-caster for hire, usually him selling substances that made you have a great time or go blind. No in-between, no refunds.

It was no life, so Terrwyn thought and agonised over getting a job that did some good. With the current Darkborne issue, he wanted to offer his services. Gain some more experience that could give him insight and understanding to what his grandfather had taught. Not only that but he hears the pay is good and Terr has decided that a pension would be a nice financial plan.

Others/Extra:

Spoiler: Theme

​

 

[Trappy]

"Won't answer yer question, 'cause I ain't got a bleedin' clue what the answer is."

Name:
Terrwyn Cadfael

Gender:
Male

Age:
24

Race:
Human

Race Description:
N/A

Appearance:

((6'3" | 180 lbs))
A sinewy and slim built lad, Terrwyn holds strength in his form beyond what you'd expect of a wizard who has his nose in a book, mainly because he's a marathon runner when it comes to escaping any form of authority. Shaggy, uncut hair is stuffed under his wide-brimmed hat; reaching just below the nape of his neck and looking like he was attacked by a pair of sentient shears. In an attempt to seem less of a complete failure to his father he retains a thick, yet short beard giving emphasis to his cheekbones and slimming the face -- perhaps to seem more of a man and less of an academic ... this has only succeeded in making him look more like one. Grey eyes underly dark brows that are oft drawn together in utter confusion or attempting to pronounce faulty words in ancient tongues, a crooked nose centring his features that's been broken in more than one tavern brawl. Found dressed in raggedy travellers attire and fingerless gloves, usually with a messenger bag thrown over his shoulder and the recognisable red feather in his hat.

Personality:
A real city boy through and through, whilst he's more at home in some rundown backstreet with prostitutes on the corner Terrwyn is tougher than he appears and hardy out in the wilds. Raised in a working man's household, he's not what you expect when you think of magic and sophistication. He's magic, but magic in the way that'll insult your mother, flip off the guardsmen and then jump a fence only to have it collapse on him to be caught and put in the cells to sober up. Drunk and disorderly charges make up half his resume, the other half being medical fees to stitch up his broken face when he starts on someone bigger than him. He doesn't claim to know everything, but he'll sure as hell try to stitch up something from here and there to give a plausible explanation. He's clumsy, unprepared, and subsists on improvisation. Nevertheless, if you need a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to, or a drink to raise, you'll have a friend in Terr. Knowledgable when it comes to strange and highly useless trivia, he's a blank slate at history and a little lacking on the academics. As much as he may have his faults, the young man is loyal and surprisingly courageous. He'll make you laugh, groan with disappointment in his ever worsening puns, and wish you'd never met him thanks to his dodgy brewing habits. The curse Terrwyn really suffers, is the fact he swears like a sailor and talks like one too.

Equipment:
- His grimoire
- An old, outdated staff with it's entwined crystal for more focus on spells
- A range of strange potions, politely put to 'get you off your tits' that he sells to the unsavoury alleyway types.
- Small dagger for cutting plants, whittling, but rarely used in combat unless necessary.
- Dried fruit and meat as rations, besides a water canteen. This is mixed with various dried herbs and Terrwyn hasn't a clue what half of them do.

Ability/Powers:
Premonition - He was born with the innate ability to see glimpses into the future occasionally. Unfortunately, his premonitions are rather lame and usually tell him about knocking something over, weather, and someone's favourite colour. Even then, predicting his grandfather's death did nothing due to fate taking the elderly as it does.

Grimoire - Terrwyn has his grandfather's grimoire, a spellbook that has various incantations and herb knowledge. These spells are limited to the elemental basics and a little bit of ritualistic arcane here and there. However, to utilise the spells he needs to recite it to mind. At the moment, the only one he can fully grasp is blasting poor creatures and people with fire. Again, since he's a young wizard, Terrwyn cannot do feats, grand spells of great magnitude, or tie his shoelaces with just a click of his fingers.

Magic Bloodline - Due to his inherited talents, Terrwyn is sensitive to the use of magic and thus other people's auras. He can often distinguish where and when magic was used within a timeframe of a few hours from the signature it leaves behind. Dark magic often makes him unusually cold and gloomy.

Nimble - Nimble fingers and nimble toes, you need them to grow up in a rough area. As mentioned, Terr is quite the sprinter but even more so, he can leap, sneak, and dance with the best of them.

Weaknesses:
- He doesn't wear armour and can easily get run through with a sword if he's not careful. This ties into him not being exceptionally strong, or gifted when it comes to combat. He might be able to survive a tavern brawl but put him toe to toe with a skilled swordsman and he's as good as dead.
- Heights of exceptional awe cause him to lock up or panic, the best advice is not to look down.
- To do anything more than a quick defensive or offensive combat spell, it requires him to trawl through his grimoire and find exactly what to do. This might end in a small explosion, summoning of a confused fertility spirit, or actually getting it right.
- He is not prepared. In the slightest. For anything. When he dies, he'll be late to his own funeral.

Bio:
Raised in a family that could've starred in a one-time-only theatre play of adulterers, depression, booze, and a sunny disposition -- it's a surprise Terrwyn didn't suffer any long-lasting psychological damage. Or well, any more than he needed. Born in some midwife's shack whilst his father was out drinking it was just the beginning of his misguided life. The Cadfael's used to be well-known in the casting community, Terrwyn's grandfather a scholar who once lectured at the best universities and places of learning, until it was learned of his string of affairs, gambling, and affiliation with dark magics. He fell from grace and into bankruptcy, his only daughter marrying a butcher with a bad temper and his wife leaving in the middle of the night to start anew. His grandson, however, showed aptitude. Had the spark. So between a young boy's foolish exploits, Terr was awarded luxuries many of the poor were not -- the ability to read and write, even in other tongues but never fluent.​

His father, of course, hated it. He believed that the son of a working man should be in the shop, instead of focusing all his efforts on the use of pansy spells and arcane trickery. After the cat was used to cast an invisibility spell Terr's father came to the end of his tether. This caused the lad to work part-time in the butchers and use his lunchtimes to obsess over magic. It was a passion not easily doused. Unfortunately, he had his fathers vices of drinking, brawling, and cursing out the authorities. From his mother, he picked up the patience of a saint and a lax attitude, you had to have one in a house like that. After Terrwyn, his parents managed to have four daughters. His sisters both the apple of his eye and absolutely despicable.

After his grandfather passed when Terrwyn was seventeen, he inherited the grimoire which he still adds to. It was around that time Terr also got kicked out the house, his father saying something along the lines of "he was a man and had to make his way in the world alone now". So he got into some shady business between being a magic-caster for hire, usually him selling substances that made you have a great time or go blind. No in-between, no refunds.

It was no life, so Terrwyn thought and agonised over getting a job that did some good. With the current Darkborne issue, he wanted to offer his services. Gain some more experience that could give him insight and understanding to what his grandfather had taught. Not only that but he hears the pay is good and Terr has decided that a pension would be a nice financial plan.

Others/Extra:
N/A​

He's an amazing lad. Accepted!

 

[Lenny2000]

The attachments (for his appearance I'm assuming) aren't showing by the way, so if you'd like to fix that?

Fixed it and also I made it clear that cyri is not his last name and instead his middle name

 

[Remembrance]

Spoiler: PLEASE READ

This post is exorbitantly long and complicated so please take like an afternoon off to read through this biological mess. Also maybe it’s finished?!?! I don’t know know, it’s late and I spent like 2 hours on the bio so fuck it. Goodnight.

Name:
Etzal Laton

Gender:
Male

Age:
24

Race: Artificial Incruscan

Race Description: Etzal’s animal parts appear quite clearly upon first glance. His left side is almost entirely owl. From feathers to hollow bones to his left eye being unnaturally yellow and able to see better at night. This deformity sets him drastically apart from typical Incruscans as most have minor features while Etzal is quite literally half bird. There’s also some plants and grass mixed up in there but that’s not here but rather later on.

Appearance:

-5’9ft
-121lb

Personality:
Etzal is the definition of somebody who is spiteful and rude to strangers but caring and firm to people he respects and truly knows. He’s the type of man who respects people who work hard and get what they deserve, this also translates into his form of justice and judgement. If somebody works to really harm somebody else, they deserve what comes after them, he doesn’t care if it’s in equal value or not; as long as it’s bad and mean he won’t bat an eye. His morality system is what defines him, this spite and revenge is what fuels him and he encounters a familiar sense of revenge almost all the time. Etzal is serious and firm almost all the time, being paranoid of the things around him and he hasn’t really learned how to relax properly, even for just a minute. But this only scratches his surface.

Etzal enjoys time-wasters, anything that sets his mind off of the moment is good enough for him. He doesn’t know exactly why he favors things that take an exorbitant amount of time to complete rather than things that are easy and wasteful. Etzal likes to think that he disfavors waste and doesn’t appreciate how things are thrown away and no longer appreciate after a small amount of time but he knows that everybody in any time has wasted things in their life and he knows he does as such and can’t brand himself that way. He hates hypocrites. Etzal often isn’t the one making conversation, to really start something between him and somebody else is to have that person start the conversation for him. It’s not him being antisocial but he generally likes it better when he doesn’t start the conversation.

Equipment:
Etzal doesn’t carry a lot on him. He’s usually found with a small knife and some clothes that he’s kept with him for a long time.

Ability/Powers:
Abstraction: A heredity power that spawned out of Etzal’s father’s bloodline. This power is one-time use only and gives it’s wielder the power to almost cheat death. When close to death or nearing it, the power activates and begins taking inanimate objects; living things; and things that may be in the inbetween. The reason it takes things around the wielder is that the power is attempting to recreate the body of the wielder from those objects. This can lead to varying levels of success and usually ends up with the wielder either becoming greatly deformed or with minor changes.

One With Nature: Because of Etzal’s previous power, he has been combined with an owl into an almost artificial Incruscan and is probably as close to one than anything else. His previous power also mixed up some plants and small bark here and there but he’s mostly bird and human in terms of body space.

​

A Talk With Nature: Etzal’s more unique plant and tree bark part is a real gift. This manifests as being able to communicate with plants. While the conversations are quite boring and the voices of the plants usually manifest as old men or women with weird accents, he can usually fish out important information when pressing the plants. Quite literally.​

​

The Wildlife That Talks: Etzal can talk to animals. Pretty simple. The voices that he usually encounters are familiar in a weird sense and often sound young and to quote Etzal: “alive.” There’s not much he can threaten an animal with other than death. He’s found a particular fondness of owls and sees them often flock around him during night or at random times.​

​

Mother Nature/Auntie Luck: This particular part of his power is a voice that sometimes pops it’s head out into Etzal’s mind. This voice is different from the many animals and plants that harass day to day, this voice is just different.. This voice appears to sound as a middle-aged women with a bright and clear voice that could cause a mountain to shift directions. It sometimes guides him on where to go, when to go, and how he should approach it. Sometimes it gives him moral advice or just somebody to talk to. He doesn’t know what it is but he commonly refers to the voice as Mother or Auntie, seemingly switching between the two at random.​

​

Weaknesses:
Hollow Bones: Being half of an owl gives it’s perks but also it’s drawbacks. Hollow bones for birds allow them to take flight easier but these break a lot easier than normal human bones do thus Etzal has a hard time doing many activities with his left arm as he’s fearful it may break at any moment.
Nature’s Morality: Etzal is a survivor, he lives in the woods because of his exile and has learned over the years how to survive properly. This is good but when all Etzal has for food is plants and animals that he can communicate and relate with... This poses many problems in nature’s morality system. He’s often scared and anxious to take the life of an animal or harvest a plant because of how that plant or animal may react, or even the animal or plant’s family. Normal people don’t have this problem but when Etzal can actually talk to these things and understand them; that changes things.
Unclear Guidance: While Etzal may have a voice in his head that knows a way to obtain something or a way to make something happen, it’s not always the ‘best’ way to go at it. It gives a scenario and a possible outcome but not anything other than that, sometimes it’s not even needed and may give bad advice to a situation that requires gentle care. It’s luck whether or not he actually gets something good out of the voice and luckily, he’s had a good streak.

Bio:
Etzal was born as a normal human farmer’s boy in a village so small and insignificant that it didn’t appear in any maps of that current generation. Everybody in the village knew each other well and all the kids were essentially friends. Etzal’s father manned the farm that provided most of the food for the village while his mother took care of the barns and fields and made sure that everything was in order. This was the perfect life for Etzal besides all the chores and farming he had to. He had friends he could play and have fun with, he had a father who worked hard for what he wanted and got what he deserved and a mother who took care of everything that his father was negligent of. And one day, Etzal and his friends decide to venture into a forest near the village so that they could grab some sticks and maybe fight with them.

In the forest they went around and ripped the branches off of the trees and picked up sticks on the ground. Etzal diligently collected sticks and smiled as he crouched down to pick a small stick up but as he rose up and turned around to smile at his friends. They weren’t there. His friends had disappeared at the drop of a hat and now he was all alone. What could Etzal do? All the effort he could muster was being put into yelling for his friends, that was until he heard footsteps only a little bit away. That must be them! Etzal thought, he ran and ran to the sounds of footsteps. A smile on his face so large that it was almost tiring to keep up. And as Etzal approached the sounds of footsteps, he found anything but his friends. He found a witch.

At his age, Etzal didn’t know what a With was or even what they looked like. To him, all it was was a women with a pointy hat and dark robes who held a rope net in both her hands over an owl who had lost flight and crashed. And Etzal without thought and hesitation ran to protect the owl, he did not want such an innocent thing to be captured, let alone when it was so defenseless.

“Stop it!” Etzal cried out at the witch, surprising her as she backed up a few feet.
“Child, what are you doing in this forest?” The witch asked, lowering the net to her side and moving her hand to her belt.
“I.. I...” Etzal was too nervous to make a straight answer. “I can’t tell you!”
“Well why don’t you back away from the owl?” The witch gripped onto a jar with a purple liquid inside of it hanging from her belt.
“I can’t do that!” Etzal had to show his confidence, he could not let this woman take this defenseless owl.
“Child, this is your last chance. Back away from the owl!” The witch gripped tighter onto the jar and raising her voice almost as if she were an angry mother.
Etzal said no words and as he stood there, he knew what was gonna happen. The witch tore the jar from her belt and threw it to the ground left of Etzal, he instinctively dodged and steered right but he later regret this decision. In a bright flash and short lived pain, he fell unconscious.

Etzal awoke with a strange sensation, something rustling up against his left arm almost like fur but not. As he opened his eyes and moved his head to check what it was, he found his left arm entirely covered in feathers. Shocked, Etzal went to brush them off but they weren’t budging, so he tried pulling at them but all that warranted was small pain. It took almost a half an hour to realize his situation. And as he began to know more and more, he unlocked more and more of his newfound abilities. He had found communication with plants and birds, the trees were fond of him in particular and weren’t afraid to give him some tips of where to find things. But a lingering problem persisted, Etzal was lost in a forest he barely knew about and was now deformed past possible recognition. What could he do? And that’s when a tree decided to give him the answer. “Survive.”

For a decade Etzal remained in the forest, he eventually found a way out and saw his village faring well but dared not even approach it. He survived by harvesting plants much to their dismay and biting into small bugs that barely had enough of a voice to reason with. This life was terrible but it’s all Etzal had and he grew accustomed to it. One day however, he hears a voice. A woman’s voice, so elegant in nature and so beautiful in thought that he could barely resist. The voice told him that he should venture out, not to the village but places farther ahead of it. So he did just that, he packed up what he could (which mostly consisted of berries and branches) and headed the opposite direction of the village. What was he to find? Well a big bustling city of course.

Great walls stretched higher than Etzal could see and actual living people. However the cozy welcome and greeting he expected wasn’t like what he got. As he approached, the men that stood by the gate held their weapons up, asking what one of his ‘kind’ was doing around the area. Etzal didn’t quite understand. Call this his lack of education or his lack of knowledge of the outside world but he was really confused by what the men meant. And as Etzal stood there with a perplexed expression, 3 people with odd appearances showed up. One person had weird ears that popped out of his head; another had bright and colorful wings; the last having claws that appeared extremely sharp. The weird ears girl told Etzal to back up and the three engaged a conversation with the guards. Etzal didn’t exactly know what they were talking about but they had raised their voices enough times to make Etzal fearful of what may come but when the 3 people turned around and guided Etzal out of there, he could see they were satisfied with what they said.

The 3 led Etzal to a small cave which led to a large cavern that fed into an even smaller tunnel which eventually ended to an extremely large cave which small houses stacked up onto each other. While it wasn’t the same environment as his forest was, it was cozy. His time spent at this particular place would be two years. Etzal learnt how to actually talk and communicate and he learnt to enjoy life for what it was. Things were as perfect as they were back when he was normal and in a small village. And as he compared his current life to his past one, he felt glad for once that he had changed, maybe things were actually looking for him.

At the turn of the year, Etzal was celebrating with his newfound friends and family. He was having fun and speaking new words, all of his life culminated to this moment. And what did he get? Bloodshed, murder, and senseless slaughter. It had turned out that a group of men wearing armor that Etzal was somewhat familiar with had found the small cozy village and when they saw what was inhabiting this village, they decided to murder all of it’s inhabitants. Etzal managed to escape with minimal damage, he tried his best to fight but he couldn’t muster up the strength to wield a weapon. His only saving grace was the one thing that got him in the village. The woman’s voice in his head. The voice told him where to go, how to get there and where to avoid going. He followed the voice’s directions with upmost importance and made it out. But what could he do now? He had no place to return to except a big mess of bodies and blood. Etzal would have to return to his roots and navigate back to the forest.

His route was easy, simple enough that any child could easy follow it. And as walked up the hill, gaining view of the forest he was accustomed to, he found it worse conditions than he left it. The forest had partly burned down, many trees were also cut down and the local fauna had disappeared. Etzal at this point had nowhere he could return to, his life was now in the hands of the voice that had been guiding him for a short time. A voice he didn’t know who it belonged to. He had no choice. Where was he gonna go? Back to the bloodshed in a big cave or to the burned forest learning? No. He couldn’t. But as he sat around waiting for the voice to appear, it did not. He sat waiting and waiting, just for the voice. But nothing spoke. Etzal gave up after waiting for an hour for the voice to talk, finally getting up and knowing what he had to try and do. Find a home.

Etzal wandered for hours, making sure he remembered certain paths and where he was going. He eventually ended up in a jungle where the voices of trees and plants were so loud it was annoying to even be near the place, so he kept going. And he eventually ended up in a large plains area. Flat grasslands stretched for miles in every direction, trees clustering every once in a while and minimal amounts of plants. Etzal liked the silence it warranted and set up camp there. But he found to like it so much that he decided to try and live there. He got to work cutting down the sad trees and attempting a house in the style that was of his old cave life. It didn’t turn out too well but he atleast had some walls with some windows and a working door. He resolved to make a tarp out of the leaves he gathered from the trees and placed the large tarp over the small hut. With little daylight, Etzal built a small cross with the wood he had left that stretched from the tops of the walls of the house, this cross would keep the tarp down. He raised it up with some difficulty but got it up there eventually. And after all that, Etzal cozied up into a leaf blanket on the bare ground and fell asleep.

The next two years would be spent scavenging and fixing his house quite frequently. As he grew more accustomed to the area, he ventured out more, past the plains and to different areas. He remembered certain paths, which were better and which had travelers on them. This life of seclusion was easy for him, he hid in bushes or trees on paths when people were coming and his house was just simply that, a house. What was there to obtain from a cozy house in the middle of nowhere. As Etzal matured, he started talking to travelers and traders, learning more things and understanding society as it was. His ‘kind’ wasn’t accepted normally and they were casually put aside for more important people. He didn’t quite understand it the second time it was explained to him but he could get the gist of it.

Etzal grew to hate people more and more as they approached or responded to him with dread or anger. He felt he did not deserve this kind of anger, what did he do to ever even deserve this kind of discrimination. Etzal didn’t know and he grew more stressed by it day by day. He soon resolved with himself that he should cut all contact with people, he shouldn’t listen to people who all they have to give him is side eyes and anger. His own given exile from the outside populous. His own ban from talking to people. This didn’t last long however.

One day when he awoke, he heard a knock on his door. He would’ve typically ignored it but he really just wanted them gone and he knew they wouldn’t leave until he answered. As Etzal opened the door, he found himself with familiarly armored guards and somebody dressed in way too much bright clothing. The man in bright clothing proposed something to Etzal. An adventure of sorts into a forest so dark and gloomy it was actually named the Dark Forest. Etzal had heard of this forest before but only small snippets, he was always perplexed by it and wondered what the plants that inhabited the forest had to say about it. The man with brightly colored clothes asked Etzal if he’d like to join a group of adventures already in the forest to find something very important. Etzal didn’t care too much for what the important thing was but rather the whole mysterious aura that surrounded the dark forest. And now it seemed like he had his excuse to venture into there.

Despite Etzal’s inclinations to humanity and his exile from talking to people in general, he still accepted an adventure where he was gonna be working with actual people. Etzal may have to adapt himself to work with people and become a team player. At least he’s adventuring, right?

Others/Extra:
Etzal over the years has found an almost odd interest in crafting weapons and armor out of tree bark and sticks. From bows to shin armor, he’s pretty skilled at it.

 

[Pilgrim59]

​

.

.

[class=fyuriwrapper] display: flex; flex-wrap: wrap; align-items: flex-start; max-width:850px; margin:auto; border:1px solid rgba(0,0,0, 0.1); [/class] [class=fyuribox1] width: 300px; margin: 10px 5px 10px 10px; border:1px solid black; [/class] [class=fyuribox2] flex: 1; margin: 10px 10px 10px 5px; border:1px solid black; [/class] [class=fyuriimagebox] width:100%; pointer-events:none; padding-bottom:5px; [/class] [class=fyuriheader] width:calc(100% - 20px); height:35px; background:#313131; padding:10px; font-family: 'Oswald', Impact, Verdana; font-size:25px; color:#fff [/class] [class=fyuriheader2] width:calc(100% - 20px); height:35px; padding:0px 10px 10px 0px; font-family: 'Oswald', Impact, Verdana; font-size:30px; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:850px; margin:auto; opacity:0.3; font-size:10px; [/class]

[div class=fyuriwrapper][div class=fyuribox1][div class=fyuriimagebox]

[/div][div class=fyuriheader] Identity[/div]

Name: Vera Pavlov

Occupation: Samo-Imperial Joint Task Force Kapman (Captain) / Sarmanian White Guard

[div class=fyuriheader] Attributes[/div]

Strength:

Dexterity:

Constitution:

Intelligence:

Wisdom:

Charisma:

[div class=fyuriheader] Skills[/div]

Attack:

Defence:

Speed:

Speech:

Crafts:

[div class=fyuriheader] Battle Attire[/div]

[/div][div class=fyuribox2]

[div class=fyuriheader2] SAMEU 5th Company Commander

[/div][div class=fyuriheader] General[/div]

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Race: Hybrid (Half-Human, Half-Mermaid)

Class: Paladin (Mitigation Tank / Heavy Sword Mage)

[div class=fyuriheader] Appearance[/div]

Height: 5 ft. 9 in. (175 cm)

Weight: 150 lbs. (68 kg)

Build: Petite build, mesomorphic

Clothing:
[Combat] Sarmanian Plate Armor and Armet.
[Off-Duty] White Lunar Isles camisole.

[div class=fyuriheader] Persona[/div]

Alignment: Lawful Good

Ethics/Morals: Live and fight by a set of her own conduct. Places unit cohesion above all else, but will hold her own if the situation demands it. Assesses and weighs judgement on goals with a preference for minimal casualties. Will not hesitate to carry out orders given, for the sake of the long run. Easily conflicted internally, but places her tasks above all else.

Personality:
- Eccentric (honest to speak her mind)
- Vigilant
- Zealous
- Indiscriminate
- Passionate
- Cavalier / Proud
- Focused

Biography: Being a sibling to a renowned figure of Sarmania is never easy, despite being raised in a well-off family. Vera ran away from home to seek adventure beyond the confines of her family's prominent legacy in Karelia. The young, wide-eyed future-prefect was more than happy to travel the world - unshackling the chains that bound her to a future of servitude as a housewife. Vera detested such things, and with it came a fiery ignition of zeal that drove her from one end of Sarmania to the other. Her troublesome upbringing could be described as an audacious feat to many, by tales of her single-handedly tackling down several well-trained Marines before being detained. She was eventually released from the cells, when the Supreme Admiral Kirina Welarmo took an interest in Vera's eccentric, but devoted attitude. It was here, at the age of seventeen, that the young girl trained to become one of the most youngest and respectable marine in the history of Sarmania. Her aptitude for leadership and execution of missions prompted her rise through the ranks within a short time span of three years. Vera met the future Tsarina of Sarmania - Serafina one day, during her furlough to the capital of Samo, and quickly displayed her feat of strength.

Before long, the young marine found herself as part of Serafina's personal security detail for a brief while, before the Day of the Broken Crown puts her faith at trial. Vera learnt magic and received White Guard training and indoctrination here in Samo, nearly perfecting her skill as a swordsman and a secondary mage. She requested a transfer order from the Tsarina, and was given permission to rejoin the ranks as a marine once again - this time being deployed for the southern lands within the Empire. Given a company of her own, Vera continued to do her best, as she now faces a new enemy that was once a foreign concept in the northern lands - the Darkborne menace.

The captain was attached to an Imperial mage and liaison by the name of Gillegani Chotsky, and the two oversaw the joint-exercises between the Sarmanian and Imperial armed forces. It was here that she managed to learn much from her Imperial peer, and the cultures of what seemed like a foreign land to her. Vera was eventually deployed to reinforce and accompany the first group of Guardians in the Darkwoods alongside Chotsky. It was here, that she would embark on a journey that would put her skill and faith to the test.
Trappy

[div class=fyuriheader] Equipment & Abilities[/div]

Equipment:
- Sommerfeld Sarmanian M37 Plate Armor with company color trims
- Sommerfeld Sarmanian Armet with obsidian Kapman Horns (ornamental display to distinguish Sarmanian officers from common infantryman)
- White Guard cloak
- Light rations and waterskin
- Off-duty set of Sarmanian clothes
- Rune claymore (able to retract into a dagger or extend into a short pike - Vera's claymore is an extension of herself, and can be telekinetically controlled by her via mana)
- Satchel full of medicine and other pathfinding equipment (ropes, grappling hook, alchemy reagents)
- Runes and magical scrolls (tripflares and stun-effect magic)

Abilities:
Heaven's Tears
Channels the Network's flow of mana into a magical spell. Able to utilize or manipulate basic water-based spells, due to her nature as a half-mermaid. (Magical Attack Skill)

Salema Stela (Solemn Steel)
Consumes mana or blood to erect spikes around her armor - effectively turning her into a metallic porcupine. This ability may be manipulated to conjure up a temporary cover or spiked projectile using any metallic catalyst (an ingot, a small buckler or anything that has metal element). (Defensive Skill)

Conviction of the Five Creeds
Channels flow of mana into Vera's body or any party member, granting enhanced strength and reflex. When used during an attack, the inertial strength of this ability will cause extra damage due to momentum. Impacts created by any charge or full-on attack will emit shock waves that have a chance to stun or knock back targets if enough force is applied during the charge. (Primary Buff / Secondary Stun Skill)

Crimson Burst
Able to transmute blood or mana into her claymore to unleash a devastating magical blow. Area of effect explosive smite, rarely used as it consumes her strength and state of mind. Extensive use without end will result in Crimson Burst's negation of energy, driving Vera mad or injure her severely. (Ultimate Burst)

Weaknesses:
- Easily distracted (fixated on target/objective)
- Heavily-armored (reduces her reflex in close-quarter situation, while bogging her down during a pursuit)
- Easily thirsty in arid or hot environment (half-mermaid)
- Crimson Burst ability is precarious in prolonged skirmishes.

Other/Extra:
- Vera can manage underwater for a very long time, given her mermaid blood.
- Also, she happens to love Imperial and Regalian fruits.
(´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

[/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]

 

[Kabboom]

Remembrance Pilgrim59 You're accepted.

Lenny2000 I'm sorry, but your CS is a no-go. It's not fitting for the setting at all (we don't have multi-shot pistols and those types of modern combat scenarios you have in your Biography), and frankly, too dark. Stupidly dark. Lighten up. Also, we don't have video games. This is the medieval ages, or at least this world's equivalent of it.

 

[Lenny2000]

Remembrance Pilgrim59 You're accepted.

Lenny2000 I'm sorry, but your CS is a no-go. It's not fitting for the setting at all (we don't have multi-shot pistols and those types of modern combat scenarios you have in your Biography), and frankly, too dark. Stupidly dark. Lighten up. Also, we don't have video games. This is the medieval ages, or at least this world's equivalent of it.

Wow way to be a dick, like a simple no thanks would be ok enough but you seem to be too childish to be able to respond with basic fourth grade manners . Cya

 

[Kabboom]

cya too chap

 

[hostage]

“I have a home here. Why should I leave?“

• Basics
• Personality, Bio & Other

• Name: Teoippe, aka Teo (pronounced Tay-Oh)
  Appearance:
  
  Spoiler

  
  Race: Ciguapa
  Age: 52 in human years, but only around 23 in the true conversion and knowledge wise.
  Sex: Female
  Height: 5’6”
  Weight: 127 lbs
  
  Spoiler: RACE DESCRIPTION

  Ciguapas have nocturnal habits. Also, due to the position of their feet, one can never quite tell from which direction the beings are moving from by looking at their footprints. Some people believe that they bring death, and it is said that one should not look them in the eye, otherwise the person is at risk of being bewitched permanently. Also, the only vocalization made by ciguapas is said to be a kind of whine or chirping.
  
  They are said to have pale skin and black eyes. The ciguapa takes the form of a human woman and has smooth, glossy hair flowing the length of their naked bodies, covering them as if in a long beautiful gown. They are very shy in a sad way and also are deceitful. Their black eyes are piercing and slanted. and are always waiting in ready to capture the wayward traveler.
  
  Ciguapas are considered to be magical beings, beautiful in appearance to all, yet horrifying when their true form is revealed. They are very wild creatures. They are compared in many cases to mermaids or sirens: beautiful yet cruel, and far from innocent. Deceitful and ready to capture the wayward traveler, they are said that they are so beautiful as to lure men into the forest, even though following footprints is misleading, to make love with them only to kill them afterwards. Legends have suggested some to be benelovent and wish to not kill trespassers, though many have rather hostile tendancies.
  
  Lore states that the only way to capture a ciguapa is by tracking them at night, during a full moon with the use of an albino dog. This technique does in fact work, and many have captured or killed these already rare creatures. The method is as goes: take the dog into the woods known to be inhabited by the ciguapa. It will know where to go as the otherworldly scent is quite alluring to the canine. When one comes across their target, they send the dog after it. The ciguapa will flee, but for some mystical reason will always stay in sight of the albino dog. The full moon will keep her close, and she will soon run out of energy. The dog’s job is finished. Many take the ciguapa in iron chains to be a servant, but others kill them on the spot.
  Equipment: Two long swords (made of a combination of steel, copper, and some other materials she will not disclose, as iron is harmful to her), steel scale armor (thin & light as to allow for more movement), so called “poison pouch“ (contains various poisons she tips her swords with including a mixture of nightshade and elderberry to get a reddish color).
  
• 
  Personality:
  Her light-hearted nature can make even the toughest soldier smile a bit. Teo is an optimist, but secretly doubts herself on the inside (who doesn't?). She has a caring and helpful nature, though she is nowhere near a pushover, and will put her back into anything without complaint. She has sharp instincts, and when pushed, can become deadly, though she prefers to stay out of conflict. She is known for her saying, “I do only what needs to be done.“ Her wits are always about her, helping her slither out of some of the toughest situations.
  
  Backstory :
  Teoippe was (born?) in the dark depths of a forest, unknown to man. She lived there for her early life, and quickly developed a relationship with the trees surrounding her. She took nothing more than she needed, often only felling a squirrel or two for meals and keeping invaders out.
  
  Known as the deadly guardian of the large swath of land, she was responsible for many deaths, mostly of those who wandered in or attempted to harm her domain. She brutally dismembered the ones who took from the forest, and left the remains of her victims along the outer walls of the nearest village. She took her « job » quite seriously, and became bolder as she ventured beyond the treeline to patrol.
  
  She was discovered first by a traveler, who had seen her lurking by the edges of the treeline. Another traveler documented her, keeping close pages on Teo’s activity outside. Eventually, her forest home was invaded. No matter her efforts, the dark woman was taken prisoner, chained in iron shackles and would have been killed for her doings when a young man freed her. Teo was indebted to him, and thus began her new life.
  
  She eventually repaid her debt to the man, then disappeared. As quickly as she had been found, she was gone again. She now took to cities, as the forests of old were not as safe as she had once thought, and the trees did not recognize her presence as the Dark came. Teo spent her time as a roamer, skipping from city to city and otherwise being quite mischievous. She had gotten herself into quite the mix when the Darkness hit. Thinking solely of her beloved woods, Teo gave in to the draft and joined the Guardians as a protector and navigator.
  Skills/Ability:
  Telepathy: As Ciguapas are rather strange in their communication, she has developed the ability to harness a flow of magic used to relay her thoughts much easier. She can project thoughts and emotions in the form of pictures or words. This may have an effect on the recipient as sometimes she cannot control her emotions and they can often crash into another like a wave.
  Fitness: Teo is surprisingly muscly underneath her lanky visage. She has “iron” muscles, and possesses a large range of strength and stamina. Her senses are also heightened, allowing her to see better in the dark and hear things further away.
  Seduction: As ciguapas were made to do, Teo has a profound sense of what another wants. She swings both ways and can quickly find what a lover desires. She often uses her ability against cheaters and scum bags, but with the true of heart and mind she only seeks to pleasure.
  
  Weaknesses:
  Socially Challenged: As she has spent most of her life in a forest, Teoippe has not been in the “social loop.“ She often makes a fool of herself around others, and is looked down upong. She is also strategically challenged, and would rather follow through with an order rather than figure out a plan.
  Vulnerabilities: As is stated, Teo has many vulnerabilities. Iron, for one, has an extreme effect on her. She can get burned with enough amounts of iron, and even with a but of iron touching her she is weakened. Under a full moon, she finds her abilities and senses weakened as well. She is skittish around dogs, especially black hounds.
  
  

 

[Trappy]

Name
Gilligani Chotsky , 'Gil'

Gender
Male

Age
30

Race
Human

Class
Battle mage, Enchanter

Appearance

Height: 178cm
Weight: 83kg
Gil appears to be tanner than an average Sarmanian male due to years living and working under the forging, merciless sun characteristic of the Southern Imperium. He is healthily built - not too skinny nor muscular, with bright amber eyes and a mane of thick black hair that he usually ties back into a ponytail. At some point in his years in the South, the man had decided to grow out a goatee which he keeps well-braided to this day. His usual, non-combat attire consist of colourful silken robes and comfortable clothing. He adorns various jewelries. Underneath a pair of leather gloves, Gil has several rings on his fingers.

Personality
Gillian appears to be optimistic, cheerful and caring of people around him, often using grandiose gestures and manners of speaking. However, this is a front of a very guarded man with his ideas and thoughts, often reserving his opinions to listen to others'. Gil also tends to be suspicious of other people's capabilities, and generally underestimate the intelligence of people he meets.
He’d like to think he’s a good man at heart.

Equipment
-A couple books, among them a velvet covered tome with several loose notes haphazardly put in at some places.
-Rations (dried meat, fruits) and a water-skin.
-A chessboard-sized wooden board with magical symbols and glyphs on its edges, as well as a single focus at the centre.
-A dagger, a component satchel and a few blank magical scrolls (x6).
-A morning star with carved-in magical glyphs serving as his spell-casting focus, and a small kite shield.
-A normal steel breastplate.
-A sealed wooden scroll-case.

Spoiler: His combat attire, aka most likely what he's wearing at the moment.

Gil tends to name several things in his possession.
-Crown of Starlight: An intricate, expensive-looking sallet that seems like it might not have seen a lot of up-close actions, which might be true. It features 5 gems at the top, forming a 'crown' across the wearer's forehead.
-Light's Champion: A white cloak embroidered with somewhat shiny symbols at the edges, and sun - the symbol of the Light - in the very centre of it. It is enchanted with a moderate arcane shield hugging the wearer's body and absorbs damages from blows coming at them. Enough damage could break the shield, and extensive damage could permanently ruin the enchantment.
-Boots of Godspeed: A pair of fine leather-boots permanently enchanted with a simple Haste spell. Upon activation (via clicking the boots together), Gil might dash with a slightly faster speed than the man normally could, leaving a trail of glittering dust as he goes.

Ability / Powers
Spell-book: The tome, Gil's very own spell-book, the one thing which he treasures the most, behind his old parents. It is filled with knowledge, experimental notes, researches and theories of various arcane rituals and the manipulation of the existing flows of Light energy - to bend them and morph reality to his will. There are still many pages unfilled. As a mage, knowledge is his power, and Gil's powers are restricted to what he knows. The velvet cover of the spell-book is enchanted with a simple arcane lock which requires Gil’s touch to open.

Certified Enchanter: Gil has a degree, alright? He gud. From his studies, Gilligani has mastered the art of enchantment, allowing the mage to enchant various objects with some specific magical effects/utilities, although the process may be a lengthy one, depending on the nature of the enchantment. For example, he could give a wild berry the effects of a lesser, mediocre healing potion. Spell-casting is difficult in Dark territories, so there might be strange, unexplained side-effects to some enchantments.

Blessed Star-strike: Gil may apply temporary a specific enchantment to buff his morning-star, giving it a dim blue glow and its strikes send destructive Light energy across the target's body. On clear, starry nights, the stars guide his strikes to land true. The enchantment lasts for half an hour once applied, and may not be replaced or removed once it is in effect. The enchantment immediately fades away if it gets beyond his 5m radius. Due to the lack of present Light energy in the Darkwoods, Gil may use this ability 3 times per day, any more than that and the mage will be exhausted and his spell casting ability will become seriously hindered.

Righteous Vengeance: His cloak, Light's Champion, absorbs damages coming his way with a moderate Light shield. The cloak may cleanse and convert a fraction of these damages into destructive Light energy for him to throw back at the attacker(s), should he wish to.

Weaknesses
-Not very dextrous or acrobatic.
-Not very strong physically either.
-Not an extensively trained up-close fighter - professionals could easily best him up-close.
-Gil is extremely afraid of pitch darkness, almost in a form of phobia.

Bio
As child, Gilligani was found in a basket on a Western shore to the South of the Kingdom of Sarmania, his origin was never determined, but the man expresses little interest to pursue that quest. When the young man was found in a Sarmanian starosta's bed with his mistress, Gil brought his adoptive parents abroad into the Empire to avoid being thrown in a dungeon, where they settled in a peaceful fishery commune near Wave's Keep.

Gil went to take up education at the arcane academy of Lucansport, an illustrious magocracy within the Empire. The young man from some nameless hamlet passed the rigorous trials miraculously, though barely, and studied at the academy for the next 6 years as quite a troublesome scholar, before he earned his degree prematurely, and just packed up and left, much to his fellow colleagues' resentment. But Gil paid them no mind, for he's heard adventure's call.

The young mage spent the next several years in the Southern Imperium, where he owned a shop as a purveyor of various trinkets and items of magical properties under the name 'Ghiliyat'. At some point, he was offered a contract to be employed by the magocracy to investigate and hunt down rogue mages as well assisting Imperial guards and forces under Novus Belikov to bust cultist and heretic activities. The man disagrees with Belikov's excessive methods to this day, the definition of a "-fucked-up, disgusting sadist, and I don't swear often."

One of the assignments brought him to a Sarmanian commander, Vera Pavlov, and her unit while they were stationed near the frontline, where he served as a liaison and agent for the archmages. But his assignment aside, the guarded Gilligani grew to trust and genuinely enjoy the Sarmanian commander's company. They exchanged many tales, his of life abroad and the numerous varying cultures across the vast Empire, and her nostalgic tales of home. Recently, the latest assignment had brought Gil onto the frontline itself, to reinforce the first group of Guardians in the Darkwoods on their quest for a Light relic, alongside Vera. This would be the bestest adventure the mage had embarked upon yet, and certain the best bestest adventure any adventurers could possibly hope for!
Gil is anxious to put his skills to good use and help the Guardians. He is both extremely excited and nervous.

Extra
It pains the mage deeply to leave the Network's warm embrace and venture deep into Dark territories, but he knows his quest is good. Like other established mages, Gil can feel distortion, shifts or influences within the Network, as well as channeling its energy to greatly enhance his magical prowess. However, that is near-impossible where he is heading for.​

 

[Kabboom]

hostage Accepted! Join the discord too, it's much more convenient!

 

[PsychoticOne]

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[div class=openbutton]VIK

[/div][div class=mainpage][div class=closebutton][/div]

[div class=textbox]

basics

Name: Vik Gonkor
Race: Half-Orc
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual[/div]

[div class=textbox]

appearance

Height: 5'9
Weight: 178 lbs

Spoiler: Appearance

[/div]

[div class=textbox]

Equipment

Vik is an archer, an unusual class for an orc. Though, he does keep a shortsword with him in case enemies get close. Overall, his hunting bow is his primary weapon. For ammunition, Vik uses whatever arrows he can get his hands on. Most likely makeshift arrows when surviving in the wilderness for a while. For larger targets, he'll coat the tips in poison. Lastly, Vik normally wears light leather. If necessary, an iron mask when hiding his identity./div]

[div class=textbox]

Strengths & Weaknesses

Vik is most proficient when it comes to archery and close combat. However, he prefers distance ever since learning how to use a bow. He also knows how to work well in the wilderness, surviving for weeks if needed. When it comes to civilization, Vik can struggle in certain situations. He was a slave for most of his childhood, so his Common isn't as good as most, and he doesn't know much about culture. Being a slave also effects his combat style. He's more reckless and sloppy since everything is basically self taught.


[div class=textbox]

personality

Normally, Vik holds his grudges against humans and elves, for those are people he dealt with a lot as a slave gladiator. Ever since earning his freedom, he learned to loosen up, but is still weary against the two races. Vik tends to act more like himself around other orcs though. He somewhat likes dwarves mainly because of their craftmanship. Their steel is very well made after all.

Vik doesn't like to hold back in combat. When he was a gladiator, he was always taught survival of the fittest, and to always kills his opponent. It's the same way now, unless convinced otherwise. Yes, he does hate mistreatment of others, but doesn't like to interfere unless it benefits him since nobody else was there for him when he needed it the most.[/div]

[div class=textbox]

bio

There isn't much known about Vik's past. He was simply sold into slavery for a high price. An orc's muscle is valuable after all. When reaching adolescence, his owner turned him into a gladiator to win some money. It started out rough, but as Vik gained more skill and experienced, his owner went for more competitive events. Vik had nearly died several times, but with some luck he managed to remain on top. Eventually, one tournament won him his freedom. It was obvious that Vik got as far away from his so called home as possible. He felt guilt leaving the other slaves behind, but he told himself that he earned his way out of the slave status. The others should do the same.

Being a slave his whole life cause Vik to struggle with civilization. He was just far better off in the wilderness, but he knew that he needed supplies from time to time. He'd travel around for a while, searching for a place where he'd think he could belong. It was hard to find that paradise though, especially since Vik is shy around most people. Even then, the half-orc plans to complete this search some time in his life. [/div][/div][/div][/div][/div]

 

[ShadeAlucard]

Name: Jazmin/Evelynn

Gender: Female

Age: 23

Race: Human

Race Description:

Appearance:


-Height: 5' 6"

-Weight: 198 lbs

Personality:
-Shy
-Caring
-Motherly
-Pacifist

Equipment: Cleric Chime and Cleric Staff

Ability/Powers:
-Heal, can heal wounds on one target as long as they are not too deep
-AOE heal, can heal multiple people in an surrounding area
-(locked, Evelynn ability) Fire element, can cast flamethrower and coat summoned scythe in flames
-(locked, Evelynn ability) Flight, can fly up to 60 ft high and can maintain flight for only half an hour
-(Evelynn ability) Summon scythe

Weaknesses:
Is terrified of any and all monsters and creatures typically larger than her and can go into a paralyzed state of fear around them.
Wishes she could do better in the world, but cant get past her self doubt
Her spells can backfire on her, causing the top layer of skin on her body to completely disappear and cause immense internal damage.

Bio: Jazmin grew up behind the walls of a cleric facility that was meant to train clerics to the most advanced healing spells, unfortunately for Jazmin, she was only capable of learning the most basic healing spells, and even they can backfire against her. She begged for a way out of the facility so she could actually be capable of helping those who need help and they sent her on her way. She has never had a perfect life and also has no idea that someone, a strange entity named Evelynn, lives within her.

Others/Extra: Jazmin loves to sing and often sings to the ones she is healing

 

[Kabboom]

PsychoticOne ShadeAlucard U gud hop in

 

[ShadeAlucard]

Name: Alex Alucard

Gender: Male

Age: 27

Race: Human

Race Description:

Appearance: Look at Profile Picture, now make it white armor
-Height 4' 11"
-Weight 187 lbs

Personality:
-Prideful
-Cocky
-Helpful
-Devoted

Equipment: Steel Armor excluding gauntlets, bow and arrows

Ability/Powers:
-White Poison: can take on the form of any solidified weapon and be used as such, melts through iron armor, acts like a poison when it enters the skin

Weaknesses:
- Everytime the White Poison is used, Alex suffers from deformity and continues to almost become deformed
- Due to the crippling effects of the White Poison, he must use a cane to walk
Bio:
Alex Alucard is my name. I am 27 years old and am now suffering immensely. 2 years ago, i came into contact with what was known as the Darkborne, creatures that erupted from the Dark. i fought valiantly and saved our town, but at a cost. Apparently you can become infected by this Dark essence...and it has infected me. Even though i am infected, it appears my innate ability of White Poison the is fueled by my light energy is keeping me from becoming fully corrupt. I have learned over the years of learning i had this power to control this substance and have found its many uses in battle. it acts as a poison, but also as an acid to certain things...it can also be solidified into any weapon i choose...it comes quite in handy. But the cost is so great, that i try not to use it as often as i wish i could, for it starts to eat away at me and take away my very humanity, most likely due to becoming infected with the Dark. I have become disfigured beyond recognition and thus, have to hide my face behind a cloak and shadows. I fear i may end up losing this battle to the Dark infection soon, but until then, i will do what i can to help the citizens of this realm fight off the very thing that is destroying me

Others/Extra:

 

[Octo Girl]

Character Sheet:
Name: Ruby Sjule (Shoe-le)

Gender: Female

Age: 23

Race: Human

Race Description:

Appearance (Pic is preferred, but not required.)

-Height 5'8"
-Weight 210 lbs

Personality:
- Cheerful
- Outgoing
- Loves a good fight
- Easily ticked off

Equipment:
"Who needs weapons when I gots two tools on my body?"
Ruby has a satchel full of Clothes, food, and bandages.

Ability/Powers:
-Mana Overflow~ Ruby's natural mana produces so much that it has overflowed out of her body, creating a sort of aura around her. This aura is a sort of force field around her either healing minor wounds quickly, major wounds faster than normal though not instantly, and allows her to keep fighting without losing much stamina. This does not mean it is infinite.

~Agile: Ruby is very agile, you have to be when you are a monk that thinks punching solves a lot of problems.

~Resilliant: Even if her mana runs out, she would still fight to her death if she was fighting for something she thought was worth fighting for.

~Acceptance: Ruby understands being an outcast, where no one believes you belong. She feels for those that were casted aside by the masses and she accepts them for who they are.

Weaknesses:

~ Though she has the major healing factor, this does not cancel death to bleeding out, heart out of body, brain out of body, dismemberment (Though those ones are pretty tough), etc. Her heart cant be damaged though, that is the focus point of mana.

~ She is range handicapped, but that doesn't mean she isn't charge up to your front door knocking it down while yelling "THE PAIN TRAIN IS IN THE STATION"

Bio:
As a child, Ruby was abandoned on the streets of Garensville. This village was not under government of any large city, so there were not any true armies. Ruby was only 5 when she as abandoned on the streets by her parents that moved to not bare with a child. No one cared, no one helped. Ruby fended for herself, doing odd jobs that required heavy lifting just to get bread. Ruby was eventually welcomed into the household of the Sjule clan after 10 years of living on the street. The Sjule clan was one of the middle class clans of the villages in the surrounding area. Ruby did chores for them in exchange for food and shelter.

One day when Ruby was 18, during a delivery to one of the nearby villages, their convoy was attacked by raiders. Both the convoys driver and guards died due to the surprise factor, but Ruby stayed vigilante. She had not forgotten her time on the streets, having to fend off more than one homeless person from her rations. Ruby managed to fight off the raiders with her bare fists, receiving multiple cuts and bruises in the tussle. She was able to make it to the town the convoy was going to, still cut up and bruised. She told the people what happened and they went to heal her, only for them to find out she was healing and was nearly fully healed. Ruby looked in amazement as her wounds healed before her eyes.

The town sent her back with multiple guards and the goods they were to be trading for. There were no Bandit attacks on the way back. Once they were back, the guardsmen told the head of the Sjule clan the story of what had happened. He looked to Ruby, who had bandages wrapped around her arms still. He nodded to Ruby as the Guards left and she came up to him, kneeling. "Ruby... did you truly fend off multiple bandits where my men failed? A girl we picked up off the street?" He asked, a bit in disbelief. "Yes sir. I did not want us to have trouble with clans if I could help it." Ruby replied, still kneeling. "Ruby... stand up..." The head of the clan said. Ruby did as she was told, standing at a respectable stance. He inspected Ruby. "There are no marks on your body Ruby... am I truly to believe that you fended off three bandits in a surprise attack without a weapon and did not get scarred?" He asked

Ruby took her bandage off of her right arm to reveal a large scar that had not been there before her leaving. "I have discovered an ability I had no knowledge prior of this trip sir." She said as she let the head of the clan inspect it. "The Hije clan helped me discover my body produces an absurd amount of mana, allowing me to heal quickly." She said as she wrapped her arm back up. The head of the clan nodded as he walked back to his seat and sat. "Ruby, I have nothing to give to you that could resemble my thanks to you." He said but then smiled. "But the best I can do is this... from this day forward, you are an official member of the Sjule clan and no longer a runt of our pack." Ruby was speechless. This honor was only given to those that were actually a part of the family. "But... sir.... I'm not.." Ruby started saying before the head of the clan stopped her. "I believe you meant to say father..." He said with a smile as Ruby stood there even more speechless. Ruby fell to her knees, crying out of happiness.

The head of the clan had one more surprise in store for Ruby though. He stood up with his cane and walked over to Ruby, who was still on her knees. He then place the end of his staff on Rubys shoulder. "From this day forward, you are truly a Sjule. You may wear the insignia with pride. You represent our strength, our will, our perseverance, and our loyalty. You will make a fine leader one day Ruby. I do not yet have a predecessor, but I have hope for someone in particular." He said with a smile as he walked back to his seat and sat down, facing Ruby. Ruby stood, trying to compose herself as she bowed. "I.... I will not let you down s... father." She said between tears as she turned around and left. She was still crying of happiness as she was greeted with other clan members greeting her into the family.

Ruby grew in the family for years. Meeting new people as they came and went. The most interesting person she met was an incursian by the name of Terra. She was on some quest to find some old bloke to reverse a curse on her and get her back to human. Though she did look cute with those cat ears. Ruby attempted to get Terra to stay in the clan, but Terra had her own objectives. Ruby had Terra receive some rations to last her a few days after her stay. Terra left Ruby a few crystals as payment, said that they are magic. All you have to do is crush them. Ruby liked them and kept them.

On Ruby's 22'nd birthday, raiders invaded the village during the knight. The guards were no match for the force used. This was much more than a simple raid, this was calculated and perfected to make sure they could overthrow the guards. They were expecting other clans to be there. The clans had come to celebrate Ruby, the indestructible's, birthday. The guards of the other clans counterattacked while the heads o the clans escaped. Ruby was guarding her father and the other heads as they ran. They were eventually cornered as the raiders prepared to kill them all. Ruby stepped up and took two orange crystals out of her pocket. "Terra, you better be right..." She said as she crushed the crystals in both hands and instantly her arms caught fire, yet she did not feel the heat. Ruby's face lit up with a smile as she stepped closer to the raiders. "COME AT ME YOU FUCKERS!! I AM THE INDESTRUCTIBLE!!!!" She yelled at them, arms ablaze. She threw a fist at them, causing a fireball to fly through the air and land into one of their faces, causing them to fly back. The rest of the raiders ran away from her.

Ruby was praised from all the clans and attempts were made to recruit her into the other clans. Riches, fame, glory, all of those were offered to her. But Ruby was not interested in any of those. She faced her father, the on that had granted her everything she had ever wanted. A true family. He nodded and put his hand on Ruby's shoulder. "You showed true courage, strength... and whatever the fuck that was." He said with laughter. "I believe I have chosen my successor... Ruby... would you do me the honor of becoming the next head of the clan once my time comes?" He asked as Ruby looked up to him in awe. "Father... I would be honored. I assure you I will bring strength to the clan." She said as he hugged her. "I know you will, daughter."

Ruby left the household shortly after. "I must travel and become stronger, Father... I want to bring Sjule to the rest of the world." She said as she hoisted her satchel over her shoulder. "I also have a friend who needs help... and I need hers..." Ruby's father sighed. "I grant you permission, Daughter. Word will be sent to you when the time comes. I do hope you will be safe." Ruby hugged her father goodbye and off she went into the world. "Terra said something about heading to Fronteirsville... maybe head there first?"

Others/Extra:
Other uses of her extra mana she can control include:

• Running
• Extra Force
• Water Walking (Hasn't master it but can get a few steps out)

The Aura acts like a non palpable armor, protecting Ruby from the minor wounds she receives. The main thing about her fighting style is how she doesn't fight for herself, she fights for others that need it.

 

[MrMopp]

Name: Jassart

Gender: male

Age: 25

Race: Incruscan (Grey Fox)

Appearance: Jassarts got kind of a satyr thing going for him, having the furry digitigrade legs of a fox to go with his fox ears and tail. As part grey-fox He also has sharp, retractable claws and short silvery grey fur for hair that turns rust-red on and around his ears

-Height: 5 ft.
-Weight: ...Light. Lemme get back to you on that

Personality:
-good natured
-more “flight” than “fight”
-not overly fond of authority
(Personality to be added as discovered)

Equipment:
•dagger
•hunting knife
•crossbow
•light armor
•fiddle & bow
•magic stone on a necklace (stores light energy)
•first aid kit

Ability/Powers:
Wherever Jassart lands a scratch with his claws or a cut with a metal blade, fire will burst forth from the wound and will burn for 10 seconds, regardless of how flammable the surface in question would normally be. If _____ is wearing gloves, this power is blocked and cannot be conducted through a blade.

Other than that, Jassart is natural faster on his feet than a normal human thanks to his digitigrade legs, and as you can imagine, he’s foxy ears give him great hearing.

Bio: Jassarts has had a pretty grim childhood. He was born and for a time raised in poverty in the Frontier states before both his parents died, his mother to the Darkborne, his father to the drink. He ended up skipping town at that point to avoid getting sent to an orphanage or the the Factory States or whatever horrible place he figured the town council would dump an unwanted Incruscan boy and set out into the world on his own. He’s been wandering ever since, dodging danger by the skin of his teeth and being haunted by tragedy and misfortune at every other turn.

Now a days, Jassarts still a vagabond, but he’s figured out how to cope with life for the most part, channeling his pain into music which he uses to make a good buck as he roams from town to town. At his most recent stop however, he found himself in a bizarre situation with a grocers daughter that landed him in prison with false charges of burglary and attempted rape. He ended up agreeing to military service in leu of a full time sentence, which he isn’t exactly thrilled about, but he’ll try to make lemonade from lemons until he can safely sneak out.

At least, that was the plan.

Skills:
-light-based magic (good for entertainment purposes or for blinding a foe)
-wilderness survival
-performance (wicked fiddle player)
-first aid
-stealth
-evasion (as in “dodging blows”)
-lockpicking
-speaks a dialect of Elvish (he’d been formally adopted into an elvish tribe for a short time)

Weaknesses:
•Jassarts is not keen on revealing his ability to create fire in front of the Guardians as he is afraid of being “taken” by them. Getting conscripted was bad enough, he doesn’t want to get one more layer into forced servitude
•dogs and other large canines scare the $&%# out of him.

Others/Extra: