Fantasy Requiem for a Character Sheet (RFAE CS)

[Resting Witch Face]

Guidelines
You can follow the template below to create your character, however it is just that, a template.
Please feel free to add or subtract anything you deem worthy of being displayed on your character sheet.

THE PERSON
Name
Age
Physical description(Face, skin, hair, etc)
Personality (Likes, dislikes, hobbies, etc)
Short Biography

THE PACK
Clothes
Weapons
Supplies

THE POWER
You have 10 spare Character points, spend them wisely.
Physique (Your physical strength):
Willpower(Your mental strength):
Charisma(Your conversational strength):
Intelligence(Your academic strength):
Arcane(Your forbidden strength):
These stats will decide if you can interact with certain pieces or people of the world.​

 

[Task]

​

— Identification: Ziyad Avinash Kaseem Odhiambo
— Referral Identity: Aeneas
— Epithet(s): "Aeneas the Pious", "Ctirad", "The Magnanimum"
— Origin: ???
— Lineage: ???
— Vocation: ???
— Theme Song: Memory of the Lost

— Gender: Male
— Height: Six feet and six inches [6'6]
— Weight: Two-hundred and sixty-three pounds [263 lbs.]
• build: Massive | Athletically chiseled
— Hair: Snow
— Eye Color: Conflicted sea
— Blood Type: Unknown
— Body Art: None apparent

— Persona: At a glance he is a colossal beast both intimidating and composed like a volcano prepared to erupt. His eyes swim with forlorn enigma while his smooth skin contradicts his otherwise foreboding demeanor. The truth beneath is all is that Aeneas is a man of compassion and naivety (though he lacks actual social skills). Embracing with pride his narrow and headstrong approach, his disposition is often mocked for how absurd and unrealistic it is in a world of death and despair. Nonetheless he wears his pride on his bestial shoulders, seeming intent on freeing the world from a curse that he is partially responsible for. The best way to describe Aeneas is complex, as beneath every layer of his personality is another mystery of his origins yet to be uncovered.

Hobbies he enjoys includes hunting, exercise, meditation, and alcohol, suggesting he may be nothing more than an emasculated brute. It is however unclear exactly what it is he dislikes in the world as he appears to always act on a whim, never showing his true emotions and always acting as a rallying beacon for others around him.

— Appearance: Towering over people, few would think that such a giant can move so swiftly and so silently, but there he goes, like a monolithic storm cloud, enveloping his enemy and with a sweep of his long arm and with or without a weapon his foes are vanquished. Coming to a height of two and a quarter meters tall, few come to his height that bare resemblance of a “human being” and none half as wide. Sunkissed from years living underneath the embrace of the sun his complexion only serves to highlight the scars scattered across his body, visible most when channeling the ethereal through him, and hugging him as trophies of the past. A life of a hard road, and it has only become steeper as time has crawled onward ceaselessly. Despite his size, many would think that there is at least some fat or softness to be seen of felt on him, but this is not the case. He is as hard as stone, and perhaps even colder, his flesh only becoming warm in the heat of war, where passion lights his iridescent eyes and fury contorts his otherwise gentle features.

Often those who meet him would think that he would possess a deep rumbling voice that could shake the very foundations of all. But they would be quickly proven wrong, for he speaks with a soft, melodious voice completely in contrast to his physique and a sign of true upbringing. Indeed, if you listen closely you can hear a very faint accent, one that has almost been completely eradicated. Most would merely reference it as informal linguistics, but the truth is spending enough time around a certain someone had caused him to abandon the excessively formal vernacular that he was once commonly known for.

— Armaments and Equipment: ???

— Physique (Your physical strength): 4
— Willpower (Your mental strength): 2
— Charisma (Your conversational strength): 1
— Intelligence (Your academic strength): 1
— Arcane (Your forbidden strength): 2

— Biography: ??? (for the time being).

 

[Ace Cream]

THE PERSON

Name: Anjou Fuella
Age: 29

Physical description: Anjou stands at 5'7. She's a slim woman with long pale blonde hair. Her eyes are light brown and have eye bags underneath it.

Personality: Anjou identify herself as a scientist first and foremost. True to her claim, curiousity is the drive of most of her past actions. She can be one-track minded once she found a particularly interesting object and will keep asking 'why?' until she's satisfied with the answer. Hm? Suffering people? Meh...

Short Biography: Used to be a member of the black doctor corps, a small number of elite doctors in the executioner rank that normally work as royal healer or battlefield medic. However, they also work in 'pandemic prevention', donning the beaked mask of a plague doctor and exterminate an area that was suspected to be infected with dangerous disease.

Anjou done her job by litting the area ablaze. Sometimes she only did it to the disposed corpses gathered in a hole. Sometimes she did it to the whole place. Guess she developed a little bit of a side hobby during her years working in the executioner.

THE PACK
Clothes: A thick blue jacket with furs on the collar.
Weapons: none, but her flame potions might count as weapon.
Supplies: plenty of herbs, balms and minerals.

THE POWER
Physique : 1
Willpower: 2
Charisma: 1
Intelligence: 5
Arcane: 1

 

[Goonfire]

THE PERSON
Name: Hackel Kron
Age: 48
Physical description:
It’s difficult to see any of Hackel’s features over the layers of leathers and furs. Beneath it all is a man who looks several years older than he is, dark hair going gray. His skin is dry and rough, while his eyes are usually fixed in a shrewd, weary stare. Overall, he is an imposing figure (as 6 feet tall was “towering“, by ancient standards) with rather gaunt facial features.
Personality:
Hackel is a taciturn figure who shows great disdain for braggarts. He seldom speaks beyond a grunt or a groan. Because of his short and quiet manner, it isn’t crystal-clear what he likes. However, it’s a good guess that he is drawn to intellectual and religious sites. He can read but can’t seem to understand more polished language and jargon, yet he often looks after younger intellectuals, believing them to be a rare breed. He can often be found drinking heavily, as he feels his life is out of control and seeks temporary relief.
Short Biography:
Hackel grew up harboring noble intentions. He became a crusader, but was soon corrupted by politics and prejudice. He was later called to become an Executioner and committed unspeakable atrocities. As the intense, accursed winter set in, he was among the last of his kind to go into hiding. His old plate armor and maul remain buried in a box under his isolated cottage. He was a man of few words previously, but now he speaks even less.

THE PACK
Clothes:
The outermost layer consists of a heavy bear-pelt cloak, a bulky hide coat, thick quilted pants, and tall fur-trimmed boots. His coat features a series of boiled leather panels that insulate him versus attacks. Beneath that is a padded shirt, hose, and thick wool socks.
Weapons:

• Hook - a razor-sharp implement. It is attached to a long chain with a weight on the opposite end.
• Broken sword - By the looks of it, the blade of this longsword cracked in half and was filed until it had a square end, its scabbard and crossguard chopped to match. With no sharp point, it is essentially a crude machete.
• Shield - A simple round shield made of wood. Long, thick, rusty nails have been driven through the back so they protrude from the front, making it just as dangerous as Hackel’s other weaponry.

Supplies:

• 5 days’ dried rations
• 3 bottles 150-proof alcohol (75% ABV)
• 6 torches
• Flint & steel
• 1 jar flammable oil

THE POWER
Physique: 3
Willpower: 3
Charisma: 0
Intelligence: 2
Arcane: 2

 

[ithinkcat]

THE PERSON
Name: Hanna
Age: 29
Physical Description: Hanna has an angelic, innocent beauty despite her age and past. Her golden hair is too long for a fighter, kept braided, and she refuses to cut it. She shows very little of her soft and fair skin and tries hiding her scars and hardened athletic build giving her a deceptive appearance of frailty outwardly. And despite how bleak the world seems at its death throes, Hanna always seems to have a warm and comforting aura to her. Only the most perceptive would ever see through her widow's expression, a practiced smile and inviting, blue eyes concealing a devouring pain.
Personality: Leaving the Executioners years before they were officially disbanded, Hanna has become a very different woman from what any of the Executioners that knew her would recognize. No longer is she the uncaring killer, but a motherly saint. In everything she does, she puts others needs first and tries her hardest to take care of those in need. Even the worst of society she tries to find a way to forgive, or perhaps save, hoping someday she too can find forgiveness for herself. When she isn't hunting for those unable to find food themselves, giving basic medical aid to those that can't afford a doctor, or atoning for her sins in some other form she enjoys her relatively new pastime of sewing. It's a practical skill to make and repair clothes, and at the very least it helps to keep her from spiraling into her depression.
Short Biography: Like many kids of the kingdom, Hanna spent most of her childhood in a state run orphanage after her parent were killed by raiders. Although the house mother was very strict, unsurprisingly, it was there that Hanna learned to love the mighty and benevolent King of Lledoc. It was by his mercy and generosity that they ate every night (if they behaved) and had shelter and bedding. The house mother taught them, with a fierce passion, obedience and admiration for the one that would bring an end to the worlds' injustices. She taught them about the dangers and troubles of the world and those responsible for them--everyone that disobeyed or doubted his majesty's prophetic wisdom. Hanna grew to love the King and care for her fellow orphans as a protective big sister. She grew to hate those that had inflicted such a terrible living condition upon them all, and when she was close to coming of age her zeal was recognized and rewarded.

Hand picked, like many others her age, for her faith in the King's visions, Hanna was shipped off to special martial training to become an Executioner. The instructors pushed Hanna until her body, mind, and heart were at their breaking points. Before she would be allowed to fight the enemies of the King she would have to learn the tenets of the order. She was taught not to fear death--to stare her instructor in the eye without flinching as they beat her to an inch of her life. They taught her to never hesitate--making her execute without question random, pitiful, pleading men accused of no crime other than the King desiring their deaths. She was taught her value as an individual--that she was nothing and no one. Merely a tool for her superiors and the King to use as they needed to achieve their goals. And she was taught, although only briefly, to abandon her soul. Little time was spent instilling this tenet. After all, anyone that could complete the training would have to have forfeited their humanity long before then, or so they thought. Somehow, Hanna managed to complete the training.

At first Hanna was a model Executioner. She was eager to crush those that prevented the King's utopia from becoming reality. The same people that robbed her and so many other orphans of their families and lives. Her spear reached far and accurate. Not even those that fled could outrun her spear's tip. But as she earned more autonomy in her missions, her humanity crept back. While she served the King unquestioningly to faithfully execute his crusade, her desire to serve the King had always been rooted in a devotion to protecting the downtrodden. His will was going to save everyone from their suffering, after all, not cause more. Hanna came face to face with that contradiction during a mission to exterminate a village of dissidents. Their crimes to the King were obvious, but at a short break in-between the killing she stopped and saw a little girl crying over her parent's corpses--freshly pierced by Hanna's spear. She realized she had not been helping to create a world where there would be no more orphans like herself, but the one perpetuating it. Unable to bear the guilt, Hanna left the Executioners and has since traveled around the kingdom aiding those she could to try and atone for her sins.

THE PACK

Spoiler: Clothes

2x Cotton Dresses (+ Accessory Garments), 1x Leather Travel Boots, 1x Bear Fur Reversible Cloak, 1x Steel Plate Breastplate, 1x Chainmail Tunic, 1x Pair of Steel Plate Gauntlets, 1x Pair of Steel Plate Boots, 1x Steel Helmet (w/ Removable Ceremonial Face Guard)

Spoiler: Weapons

1x Steel Long Spear, 2x Steel Short Spears, 1x Steel Arming Sword, 1x Steel Hand Axe

Spoiler: Supplies

1x Wood Frame Leather Backpack, 5x 20' of Rope, 1x Leather Water Skin, 1x Leather Wine Skin, 1x Oil Lantern (+ Small Leather Oil Skin and Spare Wicks), 1x Large Bear Fur Tent, 1x Small Bear Fur Bedroll, 1x Small Cooking Kit (Small Bronze Pot, Wooden Bowl, Wooden Spoon, Flint and Steel Striker, Bag of Salt), 1x Small Sewing Kit (Needle, Thread, Cloth Patches), 1x Small Medical Kit (Steel Knife, Cloth Bandages, Steel Shears, Glass Bottle of Alcohol, Small Bags of Herbs), 2x Cloth Towels

THE POWER
Physique (Your physical strength): 3
Willpower (Your mental strength): 1
Charisma (Your conversational strength): 3
Intelligence (Your academic strength): 3
Arcane (Your forbidden strength): 0 ​

 

[Resting Witch Face]

THE PERSON
Name: Mary Anne Netthè (net-te)
Age: 33
Physical description
A thin, frail woman with a petite body structure and wispy black hair, Mary is unassuming and kind to most who glance her over.
Hardly one to consider joining the ranks of the Executioners.

Personality
As previously stated, Mary is a shy individual, tending to keep to herself. Most who get through her social bubble find that she is kind and understanding, a shoulder to cry on. However, she harbors a harsh mentality within her diminutive and ultimately disarming nature. She is ruthless and brutal, and at the snap of a finger will go back to her quiet and calm demeanor as if she had never been on a battlefield before.

"Short" Biography
Mary was born to a single mother in a poor town, barely surviving off of bread scraps and morsels. Eventually, the harshness of her upbringing was too much for her poor mother, who fell ill and died shortly after her daughter's seventh birthday. With nowhere and no-one to turn to, she was taken in by an orphanage several towns over. By this point she was devoid of her childish glee and blossoming youth, sitting by the window every day while the other children played and ate. No one bothered her for a long, long time.

Eventually she grew up, still isolated socially and wishing for nothing more than a quiet life, and yet fate dealt it's hand once more atop her. She found the world outside she spent her childhood ogling over from behind a pane of glass was just as painful and demanding as she remembered it. All her life she had nothing, and she was quite frankly sick of it. She decided she would rise up from her depressive box and find her purpose in this harsh world, in memory of her mother. The caretakers at the orphanage had just the thing in mind, and it was not long before she found herself a soldier of the King.

She never cared who called the shots, who bossed her around. She never blinked as she found herself broken and put back together. The tenets of the Executioners had found a steady hold in her soul, and would not let go easily. Years passed as much blood was shed, the tyrant heading their crusade beginning to devolve into little more than a mad fool. And then it was over, and the world wept tears of bitter cold.

Mary found herself back in the pit of nothingness, without purpose. She could do little more than survive every passing day, in protest to the whims of the very world she sought to conquer. As time went on, she discovered that her time as an executioner had scarred her. She had gained a horrible alter ego, one that thrashed and slashed at her mind every waking hour she had to herself. One that cried out for unfathomable bloodshed and the end of all things. The only thing stopping it from tearing her very soul from her body was the distant memory she had held close to her heart since the old days, a warm dream no matter how foggy it seemed to be. Her mothers dreary words would echo through her, and she would find herself back on her feet.

Usually.

THE PACK
Clothes: Thick hides and pelts that seem almost too big for her, covering her petite figure from head to toe. Surprisingly light.
Weapons: Twin knives, rusty and worn from overuse. She carries them in her sleeves.
Supplies
Kingdom-issued rations, old but still edible. x5
Old kettle, stained and stored in the backpack. x1
Clay mug, thin but still usable. x1
Several bags of tea leaves, good for one use per. x8
Flint and tinder, enough for a single fire. x1
Small silver tea spoon. x1
Unopened letter. The wax seal suggests it is from the age of the King. x1
Liquid medicine contained in small pills, suppresses extreme emotion. All emotion, actually. Kinda like Prozium III from Equilibrium. x5

THE POWER
Physique: 1
Willpower: 3
Charisma: 2
Intelligence: 2
Arcane: 2​