Saga of the Seven Sins - The Second Cycle

Seeker of the End

Two Thousand Club
Here's where the character submissions though. I will leave comments in the OOC thread. If you get a like from me then you're character is approved.


Here are the house rules if you need them.


-Permanent Essence can only be raised up to 6 during character Creation


-Scroll of Eratta 2.5 is required


-Ink-Monkey Charms are available


-No Merits or Flaws


-Solars and Solaroids are entitled with 9/7/6 Attributes, 40 dots of Abilities, 21 dots of Backgrounds, 35 Charms (non-solar solaroids get 5 additional charms), five dots of Virtues, and 30 Bonus points. Start at Essence 4 for free. Solars and Solaroids only have around a few decades of experience so they must buy the charms that allow them to get Essence 6 in order to reach it. Devil Tigers are allowed and Eclipses can pick up foreign charms provided they pay double the charm's XP cost. Foreign charms may be picked up for 5 bp per charm.


Solars and Abyssals: 5 Free excellencies, which you can trade in for an Ox-Body is desired.


Infernals: The following charms are free if you meet the requirements: Triumphant Howl of the Devil-Tiger, Swallowing the Scorpion, Tempest of Inward Focus, Flame of the Rising Phoenix, and Face of the Titans.


- Lunars start with 13/11/9 Attributes plus two dots to spend in caste or favored abilities, 55 dots of abilities, 27 dots of backgrounds. 60 charms/knacks, 5 virtue dots, and 45 BP. They start at Essence four and have a couple of centuries of experience.


- Sidereals start with 12/10/8 attributes, 45 dots of abilities after training (assuming you are not a Ronin), 27 dots of backgrounds, 55 charms, 20 college dots, 5 virtue dots, and 50 bp. You start at Essence 4 and have a couple of centuries of experience.


- SGambit Re-write of SMA's of the following Styles:


Prismatic Arrangement of Creation


Quicksilver Hands of Dreams


Obsidian Shards of Infinity


Charcoal March of Spiders


Plague of Hat's Dreaming Pearl Courtesan Style.


- Craft is a single Ability while Specific craft types (Craft Genesis/Craft Fate) are specialties


- Players can only have a max DV of 20 without the use of charms.


- Initiation to a circle of sorcery comes with a free spell from that circle.
 
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  • Darian – Chosen of Endings


    Str: 6 Cha: 4 Per: 3


    Dex: 6 Man: 3 Int: 6


    Sta: 3 App: 4 Wits: 4


    Abilities


    Resistance: 6 == Enduring Pain: 3


    Ride: 4 == Flying Animals: 1


    Sail: 1


    Survival: 1


    Larceny: 1


    *Lore: 3


    *Occult: 6 == Sorcery: 3


    Stealth: 3


    Craft: 3 == Fate: 1


    *Dodge: 6 == Multiple Opponents: 2


    Linguistics: 5 == Old Realm, Riverspeak, Firespeak, Forestspeak, High Realm, Guild Cant


    *Performance: 4 == Dance: 1


    Socialize: 3


    *Awareness: 3


    *Bureaucracy: 2


    *Integrity: 1 == Iron Will: 2


    *Martial Arts: 6 == Form Weapons: 3


    Medicine: 2


    Archery: 1


    Athletics: 3


    Presence: 3


 
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  • Name: Renost


    Age: 247


    Sex: Male


    House: Battles


    Concept: Martial Arts Sifu


    Motivation: To unify the Five-Score Fellowship behind an all inclusive plan


    Anima Banner: A warm red glow like smoldering coals


    Languages


    Firetongue



    Old Realm



    Guild Cant



    High Realm



    Riverspeak



    Forest-tongue



    Intimacies


    War
    (Recreational Study)


    Sidereals(Fellowship)


    Bronze Faction(Concern)


    Gold Faction(Hesitant Embrace)


    Solars(Tolerance)


    Lunars(Curiosity)


    Demons(Disgust)


    Elementals(Partnership)


    Gods(Cynicism)


    Celestial Incarnae(Gratitude)


    Guild(Academic Interest)


 
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With the tabs, the first one should be [ tabs][ tab=title] without the extra space, of course


then, at the end, reverse it. [ /tab][ /tabs]


I have to say, you have a ton of health levels! Wow.
 
I wasn't complaining, just impressed that it will take one hell of a pounding to take him down.
 
I also gave the character the ability to perfectly soak what would be lethal blows for 3m, the dodge is just there for extended defense and bad touch. Honestly though, its the immobilization hypnosis, and memory/belief control this build allows that just makes me smile. Also the idea of a might 3 unit of mice/rabbits. I could turn this into Bunnies and Burrows or Mouse Guard fairly quick if we felt like humiliating an opponent.
 
[QUOTE="Seeker of the End]True... But that was a joke, sorry! By the way, the moment I get your backstory your sheet should be good to go Sherwood.

[/QUOTE]
I knew I was forgetting something! I'll have a story up for Darian shortly.
 
Viktor Vlastislav Konrad Mikhailas Xavier von Drakholdt


Age: 53 (looks like early 20s)


Gender: Male


Motivation/Urge: Protect Creation from itself (by ruling it, of course).


Intimacies: Power (lust), Drakholdt (fond nostalgia), Maxim (desire to humble), Opal (fascination), Amirah (sorrowful remembrance), Xentair (comradeship), Ligier (profound respect), She Who Lives In Her Name (regretful fondness), the Ebon Dragon (contempt), other Yozis (betrayed anger) Reclamationist Infernals (vengeful contempt), Solar Exalted (frustration), First and Forsaken Lion (determined opposition), Raksi (disgusted jealousy)


Caste: Draconian (former Defiler)


Favored Yozis: Malfeas, She Who Lives In Her Name


Favored Abilities: Bureaucracy, Integrity, Larceny, Martial Arts, Presence


Posting Color: Blood red.


Theme Song:


[media]



[/media]
Appearance


_NzuibFxi0OS0NNqq145YgDI0c8-pbpsCybM6yjRcWTYNEWSVnSJgQUspOTyweEYhSW6vZi89VKsdbXh8aw6UwtsLgR6q4jkrffKQlyo-hKbfkVMb_w-TyOMjxlBFnFhXmoMBi0



Viktor is a tall, lean man who appears to be in his early twenties due to the rejuvenating power of the Infernal Exaltation. Dark haired and pale skinned, his aristocratic features are emphasized by a neat beard, and usually set in a stern mask. This stoic expression can shift without warning into incandescent fury when pushed, or more rarely, laughing triumph. He dresses to suit his station in a leather coat of black river dragon hide accentuated with gold and rubies, which has been thaumaturgically rendered fireproof. He typically hides his claws under a pair of gloves (not expensive ones, as they need be frequently replaced). His eyes were once blue, but have changed into slit-pupiled orbs of reptilian yellow. When he is angry or annoyed in recent days, smoke trickles from his nostrils.





  • Drakholdt is a small, but well-situated and better armed fortress town in the Southwestern mountains just north of Gem. Built by the Shogunate to guard the southernmost safe pass to An-Teng and the Silent Crescent, the fortress itself sits halfway up the slope of a mountain, overlooking a valley kept fertile by rains from the west. By sheer serendipity, the mountain itself and those nearby were found to contain a plentiful supply of rubies and sapphires, with smaller veins of gold and iron; this was what catapulted Drakholdt from a backwater watchpost to a thriving fief. The barony took its name from having once been ruled by a Northern Terrestrial with delusions of grandeur, but its rulers had been mortal for the past century. In modern days, the Baron is technically a vassal of the Despot of Gem, though the Rankar line have both been too busy pressing their rivalry with Paragon to put much pressure on Drakholdt (that Drakholdt provides some very fine soldiers doesn't hurt either).


    The previous Baron Drakholdt had two sons, Viktor and Maxim; everyone expected that Viktor, the elder by a year, would succeed his father. Everyone, including Viktor himself. He was a strong, serious-minded, dedicated young man, while his brother Maxim preferred to fritter away the family's money in taverns and brothels. Oh, they had the same tutors and no expense was spared in hiring the very best to educate the young heirs; men and women learned in history, natural philosophy, spirit lore, military tactics, even a sifu to instruct them in the use of tiger claws, the family's traditional weapon. However, Maxim never quite seemed to apply himself enough to truly excel, letting his brother pull further and further ahead in every field.


    Even on the few occasions he took a break from studying with his tutors and his father to join Maxim in recreation, Viktor charmed the girls his brother had failed to woo, and win back the money he lost at cards. The older they got, the deeper this divide became, and they quarreled often. Maxim continued his debauchery, and Viktor his preparations to succeed their aging father, each secretly resenting the other. This came to a head one night, in Viktor's twenty-third year, when the barony was under increasing pressure from Gem to provide money and troops to repel an escalating series of raksha-backed barbarian raids on Gem's caravans and outlying towns.


    Maxim had come home drunk again, to find his brother the only one awake in the castle poring over reports and ledgers, and the two exchanged harsh words...

    "Yes, Maxim, I am still awake. I have to be; Father is ill, none of the chancellors can make the decisions that will save us, and you are... well, you."
    "Whazzat supposed to mean?"


    "You know perfectly well what I mean, brother. I have to be the responsible one, because you don't know what the word means. Even if you insist on ignoring your duties as heir secondary, you could at least take up a trade of some kind; you're not suited as an officer or a priest, but we can always use more miners and carpenters."


    "Huh? What did you just say, ya puffed-up prig? You want me to... work? Out in the sun, like... like a peasant?!"


    "Yes, how silly of me, Maxim. No one could ever mistake you for a peasant... largely because the peasantry are actually useful. While you have only ever been a drain on Drakholdt. You're doing it now in fact, keeping me from finishing the work needed to keep the barbarians and the Despot off our backs. If you're not going to help me, then just go throw up and sleep it off."
    ...and the younger stormed off, cursing his brother, weeping with rage and shame. No one saw Maxim except at meals for days after that. When the baron's troops departed for the fighting a week later, he set off, fully sober for the first time in months, in the front rank of Drakholdt's troops. Viktor, regretting his words but too proud to admit it, led another division into the mountains to cut off the raiders' reinforcements from the west, certain that he had sent his brother to his death. But Fate had a different plan in mind.


    Viktor von Drakholdt returned home, having fought a horde half again the size of his own army to a stalemate. He returned to find the keep in celebration, for Maxim von Drakhold had driven his foes in rout; his new determination had proved sufficient catalyst to activate the long dormant blood of the barony's founder, and he had become one of the Chosen of Danaa'd, a Prince of the Earth. While he was happy that his brother lived, Viktor was not thrilled, to say the least, with all of the results of this happy event...

    "Viktor, my son! We are blessed this day! Your brother has been Chosen, and our future is secured!"
    "It... is true then? I hardly dared credit the stories I was told..."


    "It is true, brother. And I have you to thank for it. If you hadn't shamed me as you did that night, I never would have found the strength to rise up to our heritage. In the very moment, everything that you and our tutors tried to pound into me all these years just... fell into place."


    "Truly the Dragons have shown their favor to us, my sons! Now, we must begin making preparations for the coronation! Naturally, I will not gainsay their wisdom in choosing Drakholdt's next leader."


    "What? You cannot be serious! Maxim may be one of the Dragon-Blooded now, but one victory does not a ruler make! I have spent my entire life preparing for it, and you could have years left... if I am not ready, then he..."


    "Enough, Viktor! Surely you can see that we must all bow to fate, and the revealed will of Heaven. Your brother will be the new baron, and he will lead us to an era of prosperity."


    "With you as my chief adviser, of course, my Brother. I would have none other at my right hand."


    "I... No. Exalted or not, I will never bow to you, you ignorant, indolent fop! I will not be party to this madness! You can't throw everything away on this... accident of fate! You cannot do this to our lands, our people! You can't do this to me!"


    "Viktor Vlastislav, do not turn your back on your father and your new baron! Where are you going?"


    *ptah* "To my chambers to pack. If Maxim becomes the ruler of Drakholdt tomorrow, then this sunset will find me far from it."
    And thus, Drakholdt, vassal of Gem, passed to the rulership of Baron Maxim Mattias Vladimir Borislav Adalbert, and Viktor Vlastislav Konrad Mikhailas Xavier von Drakholdt departed his ancestral home. The next few years passed in something of a blur, as he wandered aimlessly across the South and West of Creation, doing whatever he had to to survive. His aristocratic pride guttered lower and lower as he accepted menial labor, jobs as a scribe or lowly guard, combing through picked-over ruins, even stooping to petty crime once or twice. It did not help his finances that he drank himself into a stupor every time he heard a reminder of the home and family he left behind.


    That part of his life came to an end one day in a seedy bar in the Tengese port city of Dragon's Jaw. Just starting to get drunk, Viktor overheard an ambitious group of men planning to break into an undefiled Solar Tomb on a nearby island, and something they said jogged a long-forgotten memory. He approached the group, and impressed them enough with scraps of knowledge that they made him a partner in their ramshackle enterprise. Astonishingly enough, his schooling returned to him quickly, and he was actually able to bypass the outer layer of the tomb's defenses; once inside, his other training took over, and he instinctively coordinated the motley crew's efforts. They escaped with a sack of minor artifacts and several pounds of gold and gems from an untouched room, with only a single casualty (and, had the Jade Prison already been broken, the rest of this story would possibly be quite different).


    This feat of daring and ingenuity restored his self-confidence, and Viktor set off to redefine himself as a true Scavenger Lord, one of those bold men who live by plundering the dusty glories of a fallen age. Over the next fifteen years, he built a competent team of delvers, a collection of scars, a head of prematurely white hair, and a reputation as brilliant and dangerous. Brilliant, dangerous, and... unlucky. Though he was fairly successful, the "big find" always seemed to elude him. Leads didn't pan out, or other Scavengers beat him to the punch. It is fair to say that this period in his life was rewarding and frustrating in equal measure.


    Soon enough, the frustration began to outweigh the rewards. Having passed his fortieth year in a young man's game, Viktor found himself falling farther behind his new rivals... the succession of Drakholdt all over again, in slow motion. He began taking greater and greater risks to keep up. Enraged by a string of failures and desperate for that one great find that would set him up to get out of the game, he returned to Dragon's Jaw, and hired a ship to the very Solar tomb that gave him his start. This time, however, the expedition was less successful.


    The outer layer of traps had reset themselves, but he had taken their measure years before. The inner rooms, however, proved more difficult. Nearly every defense claimed a part of his crew before being defeated, and they began to wonder if the treasures they found were worth their lives. Finally, they were forced to turn back by what at first they mistook for a mere statue, but was in reality a Demon of the Second Circle; two of the group's thaumaturges gave their lives to ward the creature back long enough for the tattered remnants of the delving crew to escape with what they could carry. But even that proved in vain, as one of Viktor's greatest rivals was waiting for them in the entry hall, with more men than he had begun with.


    He could have fought. He could have struggled, risking it all to play the gamble to the end and escape one of the richest men in the West. Or potentially, a Chosen of the Sun, for the Jade Prison had been opened only days before. Instead, he broke. The once-proud heir to Drakholdt, once-daring Scavenger Lord surrendered his treasure. He did not even resist when his own men turned on him, leaving him beaten as they joined with his rival.


    He stayed there in the empty tomb, a broken man... when Sketh came to him. The Gethin whispered to him in words as oily as its hide, of how unjust it was for a man of his noble stature to be brought so low, of how the very creators of the universe understood his pain. It offered him a second chance. It offered him revenge. And with nothing left to lose, Viktor Vlastislav Konrad Mikhailas Xavier von Drakholdt accepted the demon's offer.


    Five days later, he emerged from the Chrysalis Grotesque, as the very first Defiler, looking not a day older than when he had first left his home. The first thing he did was find the rival who had just humiliated him, and burn him to a cinder with Malfean hellfire. Then, one step ahead of the Tengese constabulary, he went back to the tomb, and asked the bound demon for directions to the nearest Hell Portal. Receiving them from the bemused guardian, Viktor made his way to Malfeas to begin his training in the use of his new abilities.


    It did not take long for him to realize that he wanted no part of the Yozis' endgame. Though he was willing to go along with their methods, and some steps along the way (the elimination of the Deathlords, destabilizing the Scarlet Dynasty, and so forth) aligned with his own goals, Viktor intended to remake the world in his own image, not that of a pack of howling mad, broken god-monsters. "Hell is a nice place to vacation," he is quoted as saying, "but I wouldn't want live here the year round." He accepted a few missions that were compatible with his goals and sensibilities, took his time coming back in between, learned from demonic masters of the various arts, and generally took full advantage of the opportunities offered him.


    In particular, he was a great admirer of Ligier, and earned that worthy soul's regard by his success and understanding of an aristocrat's responsibilities. The Green Sun showed Viktor the favor by altering an old Elemental Lens he had kept as a souvenir into an Infernal aspect, and when he was badly injured in a battle with a Solar Circle, it was Ligier who forged his new heart. It was also during this time that he first met the Opal, an Elder Lunar who often trafficked with Hell. She seemed strangely fascinated with him, and though they spoke several times, Viktor always wondered what she was planning for him, and his own schemes left little time for dalliance. The two always parted ways when they both returned to Creation.


    And in truth, it was there that he spent most of his effort during those first heady years of Exaltation; building his power base in Creation. He knew well from his time as both a prince and a scavenger that power and wealth are often one and the same, and so it was wealth which he most ardently pursued. Using his Pyrian magic, Viktor began to set himself up as a merchant prince; the jewels and firedust he shaped from base matter in the Wyld desert were traded for slaves, who found a new life in the prayer-mills of Malfeas. The Infernal relics and reagents those slaves bought were then sold to the Guild, financing the next expedition to the Wyld. Combined with occasional dips back into the Scavenger trade, he quickly grew to command a considerable level of financial clout.


    He used part of that wealth to become the primary patron of the Emerald Adder Company, a mercenary group with a long and consistently impressive record. It took no small bit of doing to seduce them away from the lucrative contracts of the Despot, but some of the Adders had once served in Drakholdt's guard, few had any fear of Hell... and all knew the scent of true power when they came upon it. Viktor at first merely bought their loyalty, but then proceeded to truly earn it. After fighting alongside his hirelings in a number of battles, the Emerald Adders swore their personal fealty to him... and began accepting the occasional other contract once again, to add to their new lord's coffers. Someday, he schemes, they shall form the core of his great army.


    Still, things did not go all his own way during this time. Meddling Solars, Lunars, and Sidereals, the occasional Wyld Hunt, and irksome divinities proved thorns in his side. More than once, he was forced by circumstance to ally with a coven of his fellow Warlocks, whether to accomplish his own goals, or to keep up the appearance of furthering the Reclamation. The pirate-turned-Slayer, predictably enough, was a boor of the worst sort, utterly drunk on power and license, without a hint of culture. Don't even him started on the Fiend... There were, however, a pair of bright spots. One, a curious and driven Scourge who would later become known as Xentair, who shared and spurred Viktor's interest in manipulating Essence and delving into the origin of their own powers, opening pathways the Yozis had never thought of. The other...


    The other was Amirah. Amirah... she was beautiful of course, but that was the least of her attractions. Daughter of a Delzhan nomad chief, the Malefactor could be as refined as the highest-born Dynast, or as tempestuous as Adorjan herself. Mischievous, cunning, silver-tongued, capable of frightful cruelty and steadfast loyalty, she was like no other woman Viktor had known. He found himself entranced, and she was equally attracted to his brilliance and ruthless ambition, among other qualities. The two were working together more and more closely as time went on, weaving their separate schemes together into a whole... in short, though it took him quite some time to recognize the unfamiliar sensation, he had fallen in love.


    Shortly after he and Amirah were wed (in spite of Opal’s attempt to crash the party), Viktor and his two companions were considering splitting off from the others, and from Hell, entirely and striking out on their own. The Defiler and Scourge felt they were on the verge of some great breakthrough, thanks in no small part to Amirah's encouragement, and Viktor was beginning to think, at long last, the time to return to Drakholdt was near. Before they could set their plans in motion, however, they were called to a final conclave at the Conventicle Malfeasant.


    Opal visited the trio in Chiarosco, and warned them off. Viktor and Xentair were not the only Green Sun Princes who had swallowed the scorpion, cutting their ties to Lillun, and all of Hell had shaken with the Yozis’ rage when they sensed their leash being slipped.. The fallen Primordials panicked, when their Chosen refused to return to Malfeas to be slaughtered. A few of the most loyal Infernals were given the task of murdering their brethren. Great battles were fought, as the newest Exalted Host warred with itself. The trio were embroiled in one such battle when their former coven-mates caught up with them; though Viktor and Xentair survived, Amirah did not. And her death was the catalyst for their ascension.


    The two went their separate ways; Viktor retreated into the depths of the Pole of Fire, weaving a chrysalis of gems and gold about himself. Months later, he emerged, reforged, with a roar, and a laugh that shook the firmament. The nearby Raksha fled, Hesiesh stirred fitfully in his sleep, and Malfeas and Yu-Shan alike cried out in shock.


    Baal-Shazash was born.


    In the time since, Viktor has been renewing old contacts, gathering his resources, and of course, hunting down Amirah’s killers; the Slayer (and the small island she had dominated for the Yozis) was burned by his newfound power, but the Fiend eludes him yet. Viktor thought he felt his old friend Xentair’s hand guiding him at times, but has not laid eyes on him since.


    The most important of those contacts was a certain Lunar, who had her own designs for the Realm's destruction; though he had not realized it through all the years of their acquaintance, Opal's Exaltation was bonded to his. Viktor expected mockery and triumph from her at the news of Amirah’s death; instead, she offered him what no one else ever had in all his life: comfort. She told him that she had guarded his Chrysalis as he slept, and borne witness in secret to his awakening, she assured him that there was nothing more he could have done, and she aided him in his hunt. Though she was far different from Amirah, Viktor found himself coming to care for Opal as well...


    It was shortly after killing the Slayer that they heard rumors of a group of artifacts called the Seven Sins, with the potential to endanger the world, even more than the schemes of the Yozis and Neverborn. Viktor could not allow that to happen if there was to be a world for him to rule, and he knew that only one person could be trusted with so much power...


 
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  • Fire-Kissed Opal's true human form is currently a voluptuous young woman in her mid 20's with a regal and haughty demeanor. Hair the colour of the ocean depths cascades down to the small of her back, concealing brilliant blue rings which run from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine set against skin subtly shifting from white to black with her mood, often contrasting sharply with her almond complexion. The spiral and ring motif repeats throughout the tattoos which adorn her body. Her eyes shine with the same brilliantly intense blue as her rings, flecked with small amounts of white, and take on a predatory aspect when she detects the scent of the arcane.


    Her hair often ends in small braids tied with silk pennants, each embroidered with the name of a Sidereal she's fought, the silk the colour of their assigned Maiden; most are purple or red. Pennants trimmed in silver are those she's defeated, pennants in black are those she was defeated by but spared for some inscrutable purpose, or escaped through the aid of another. Pennants with no trimming have thus far ended inconclusively.


    uw4UIss.jpg



    Her war form is subdued, causing the ring pattern to extend across the entirety of her skin, her hair to coalesce into four long suckered tentacles, and her eyes to become yellow orbs with black slitted irises.


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/FireKissedOpal_pdf.b907b1522c3c1c10cce09d5e448aeff6" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="53124" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/FireKissedOpal_pdf.b907b1522c3c1c10cce09d5e448aeff6" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

FireKissedOpal.pdf
 

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Silent Blade | Solar Night Caste

  • Name: Saif


    Nicknames: Silent Blade / Shadow Sentinel


    Caste: Night


    Anima: A ghostly shadowed figure with razor sharp tendrils of darkness


    Concept: Dark Crusader


    Motivation: Personify an ideal of justice by striking fear into the heart of evil and scare humanity into righteousness


    Intimacies: Crime (Dislike) Justice (Ideal) Prune humanity of it's corruption (Goal) Bullies (Dislike) Slavery (Dislike) Realm (Pity)


    Age: 35 (looks like mid twenties.)


    Appearance:


    ILeR238ZfPU.jpg
 
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  • Name: Maxton Hearthhand


    Age: 40 (19 physically)


    Sex: Male


    Caste: Dawn


    Concept: Professional Fighter


    Motivation: To unite the south apart from the Realm's influence


    Anima Banner: A red furred tiger with golden stripes throws it's head back and roars


    Languages


    Flametongue


    Riverspeak


    Guild Cant


    Old Realm


    Intimacies


    Battle(Thrill)


    Guild(Respect)


    Chiaroscuro(Homesickness)


    Celestial Exalts(Curiosity)


    Unconquered Sun(Gratitude)


 
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Post being Edited and formatted, please hold!


 
Dr. Nyumetsu Sashin


*UNFINISHED*


Age: 47 (Looks roughly 21)


Gender: Male


Motivation: Regain the sense of companionship and love he once had with his beloved wife and companions.


Urge: Corrupt and Twist the Dragon Blooded, breaking them to the will of the Yozi.


Intimacies: Science (My one remaining joy.), Sorcery (Beautiful, but insufficient.), The Neverborn (Burning, Nigh Infinite Hatred), Necromancy (A False Promise), The Yozi (Disgust at their infighting and broken natures), Himself (Contempt and self hate), His lost companions (Aching regret and passionate care.), his (un)dead wife (Regret, Love, Hate for what she's become.).


Caste: Defiler


Favored Yozis: The Ebon Dragon


Favored Abilities: Integrity, Performance, Presence, Resistance, War


Posting Color: Dark Green


Theme Song: [media]





[/media]
Appearance


monster_johan_liebert_by_vampiroldurusucu-d6e6zae.jpg



A beautiful man, in most every way. His features are fine and delicate, as if he was crafted by an intentional hand rather than some mistake of genetics. His face is pale and gentle- both clearly masculine in the lines of his chin and the definition of his features, and at once beatific. His hair is smooth and soft, swept as a mound of tousled gold above his brow. His eyes shine green- emerald orbs of ponderous intellect that gleam like mirrors- reflecting what the onlooker is in themselves, rather than truly showing anything of what lays within them. His build is similarly lithe and graceful; his form one of clean lines and lacking in angles- and yet.. still, there is something ever odd about him.





  • Once upon a time in the Scavenger Lands, there was born a beautiful baby boy, in a small village. His birth was not noble by any official records, but his father was a merchant of local renown with minor membership in the guild; and the wealthiest man in the small town- therefor, a man of great local respect and renown. Nyumetsu grew up in wealth and prosperity- his family respected, his wealth later in life nearly assured, and prosperity upon his home. He grew swiftly, it seemed in those days, enjoying a quiet and peaceful life. He came to love reading most of all, though he spared the necessary time to appease his father with his tutors on more boring arts such as economics and business-craft.


    But more than his books, more than medicine and the lore of ages past, what he most treasured in his childhood was the friends he made in the village when he was let out of the manse to play with them. Annaiya, Honjo, Narine and Li-Bo where their names; children his age from the village. The daughter of a doctor who had moved in from the north, the son of a local smith, the daughter of a priest and the son of a farmer who wanted to join the army. They made a motley band as they played and traipsed through the village, growing to be the fastest of friends- and between Nyumetsu and Annaiya, more than that. Nyumetsu was the motley bands leader, of sorts- the one whose plans and tricks they would execute more often than not, and whose personality seemed to be the guiding force of the group most of the time- but he would just as often let one of the others lead for a time.


    And so his childhood went on- in peace, friendship, and learning. He was taught well on many things, raised by loving- if strict- parents, and wanted for so very little- except excitement and adventure. It was a quiet place, his village; near enough to Lookshy to avoid the greatest conflicts of the Scavenger Lands famed internal strife, within the protective envelop of that great power. He and his friends all desired adventure, fame, glory. A chance to make real names for themselves- each had dreams of their own. Nyumetsu, for his part, wanted to help people with his mind; to find old lore that could be used to help make the world better, and to create new idea's to make life easier.


    *UNFINISHED*


 

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