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Fantasy The Phantom Balled | Character Sheets

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Ryse

Junior Member
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"What you confuse for glory's fire, is fire from the tongues of liars~"

Name: Scheherazade Amaterasu
Age: Twenty Three
Class: Monk/Assassin
Homeland: Veliona
Species: Sheikali
Loyalties: Clan Amaterasu


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Beautiful, ghoulish seamstress; She wafts in the gossamer threads of wordless allure, whilst stitching each meticulous furrow of a masque which divinely enshrouds the tempestuous belly of the beast. Immaculate craftswoman; An artist of a floating world untouched by time and marred none by the ebbing flow of ceaseless change. Deeply ingrained are her coveted traditions, ancient and opulent rituals whose eerie paragon is forever steeled, and willingly clandestine to protect each aspect of her lore from prying eyes and eager lips. Stellar graces enchant with vision and vibe alone, whilst her infinite supply of coiling charisma forces ones mind to yearn in delving deeper. She is the queen bee at the center of the hive, whose honeyed nectar is surrounded by the venomous stings of ten thousand barbs; To reach her bounty is to brave the poison embedded within her very plasma, cells and atoms enriched to the core with a celestial ambrosia that is as toxic as it is mesmeric.

And yet by the time one merely roves her tranquil surface, they need not fret; she is refined, fragrant, soft, and exquisite like the petals of the lotus. Maternal, doting, a wholesomely willing counsel, but impenetrable as the rare golden jade. Lain are the bedding of demons in the portion of her soul that remains unhinged in the darkness of decaying yin, and both hungry, and cunning is their discipline.

What was once silken and sweet morphs into the withered flesh of vengeful death, but in rightful sapience she keeps these dark forces at bay, letting them rot beneath the exoticism that is her impeccable semblance. Sleep in the profundity of solitude be her your ever loyal ally – your maiden savior when times are ever grim, or be haunted by her shadow of plotting your ultimate downfall. An angel of art and pleasure of the bath house; An oily serpent beneath the veil of betrayal. The elusively fickle silver dart, whose piercing tip doth coated in the ebony ink of silent affliction.

But alas there is a passion burning in her heart...the thirst to breathe fire into the world...to ignite the night and set fire to rain. To melt the cold, give life into the downtrodden...for her fire shines bright like the sun itself. Honey dipped hues focus their sight upon the golden paved road...to let her voice be heard by millions...to sing and enchant hearts. Art is her passion...for she herself is art in motion.

Just one last stroke of red~




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Molten. Igneous. Burnished. Rippling flesh cascades across pearl orchard of feminine skeleton, matriarchal curvaceous glory toned in taut muscle. Her bodice is wiry, an uncoiling assessment of android poise. Elongated legs. A sumptuous face of sculpted bone, her nose a slender invasion of sensory ecstasy and tipped in pure, tarnished gold. Fiendish succubi; Flesh will curl, with salacious intent, broken and seething invitation to taste the rancid bouquet. She is dusted whilst animalistic in the hues of faint smoke and white clouds; donning human flesh she gorges with decadence.

A rich slather of bejeweled silks, oft dark plum and rich scarlet, the colors of maturity, of passion. The gorgeousness! Eyes caustic, galvanized in vibrant gold with hunger within her gaze. An obsidian river flowing from her girlish shoulders sculpted of ravishing stone. Mantled in sin, a banquet of succulent pulp; A surplus of toxic red tide. Malignant stare bespeaks gold reverence, demands the eyes of others to gaze upon each writhing mound of sumptuous plasm which roves across a tender, hallowed scaffolding.

She will be watched, observed, many times deemed a pivotal object of obsession. And yet she moves effortlessly through each plane of her reality, her intrinsic temptations only offering their caress the truest, most palpable appraisal.

A woman of many masks, purity of light with a gentle kiss; Malicious artistry, ephemeral strokes of magnificent alabaster upon the bleached surface of grinning bones. Malignant remnant of era past, primeval, elegant gore beneath the savage light of the swinging pendulum, silver, ethereal within the bruised ombre of the gluttonous skies. Wisps of silvern-white, embellished in a flurry of silk strands, grasping, entangling languid paramour with the silent begging, the whispers of longing, moans of deceit.

More, more, more! Elusive witch, devil of avid affections, the immaculate tongues of angels doth traverse, wander over perfected flesh and flawless gaze. Honeyed, dewy under the gaze of watchful, observant eye spying havoc upon little light. She bleeds, immortality; she sings, hymns of the divine. She, an idol of righteous purity and martyrdom, a solitary flaw. Spider veins wept, tears of malice, of sanguine wine upon the bare of fair porcelain back, china cracked and irrevocably repaired over the span of years. Still, the imperfection lies, nestled endearingly upon the slight dip betwixt lithe, feminine shoulders.


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Supernatural Ninjutsu: Scheherazade possesses the ability to focus her spiritual energy 'Chi' into a raw form by weaving complex hand signs which in turn allow her to discharge said energy in whatever form she may require depending on the hand signs woven. This allows her to command the natural elements of the earth in often very specific techniques which can operate differently depending on how much Chi she uses. The weakness of this gift is that every ability she preforms strictly REQUIRES hand signs which creates an opportunity for her to be interrupted or stopped. It also requires usage of her hands, so restrictions such as shackles, chains, or other constraints that may restrict access to her hands can completely halt her ability to use magic at all. Not only that, but using too many abilities will drain her spiritual energy which will leave her fatigued, then weak, and overindulgence can lead to flat out death. She is strictly limited to only about ten techniques every couple of hours. This unique form of magic which originated within her Clan is known to be highly versatile in battle which makes it a very valuable asset. Also, she can only use this form of magic after a prayer to her goddess every morning and every night, failure to due so will result in a lock on her Chi which will prevent her from using her Ninjutsu.

Martial Artist: Scheherazade is very proficient with her Scimitar which she keeps sheathed on her back. Her talent with the weapon however is mild given how often she relied on her Ninjutsu and Hand to Hand combat in order to get things done, while her sword is used as a supplement against those who tend to be heavily guarded or armored. She also utilizes Kunai, Shuriken, and needles as throwing weapons for those at a distance. Her hand to hand combat however is known to be rather lethal to those who may not expect such a woman to pack such a devastating punch.

Acrobatic: Shay is very fit for her age due to her occupation and is capable of moving very quickly and in a number of creative ways. She is sometimes hard to keep up with and can scale buildings very easily
 

"A woman I am indeed, but a coward I am not."
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Name:
Amalia Sephiran
Age:
Twenty One
Class:
Spy/Thief
Homeland:
Veliona
Species:
Human/Fire Fae
Loyalties:
Herself
Her family (Though honestly, she'd sell even them out for the right price)
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Appearance:
Black, almost impossibly long hair that clumsily hangs over a warm, heartshaped face, gentle features exposing a noble beauty. Expressive emerald eyes watch the world closely, and her enemies closer. She's a beauty like no other, a moon passing by, well out of your grasp. She seems delicate, like a doll, smooth, fair skin esentuated by dark colors.

The is the face of Amalia Sephrian, a thief among a world of others. She stands easily among others, blending in when she wants to, but standing out without even trying. Wielding a slender, but full frame, it's easy to be lost, captivated by the young woman who makes it obvious she is not quite human. Many people put her looks on her fae blood, an many may treat her like a goddess, grilling for her attention.

There's something captivating about her, perhaps it's her elegant posture, or the way she holds her head high, shoulders back with a deadly deamor. Or perhaps it's just her supernatural beauty. One may never truely know.
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Personality:
WORK IN PROGRESS

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Abilities:
Stealth: Light steps and quiet breath, Amalia has been trained in the art of stealth for years. She can easily slip in and out of difficult situations, hazardous areas, and many different homes, etc. A skilled eye and people who knew what or who they were looking for could find her, but she's learned how to blend in.
Swordplay: She's no expert, but Amalia can defend herself, and hold her own against a good majority of people. Will still be overpowered by better and stronger her enemies, as she employs a good amount of evasion tactics and dirty fighting.
Hand To Hand Combat: After spending time a clan of fierce warriors as a child, she defeinatly picked up a thing or two, and has applied it to her job. There is no formal style, and still growing, but once again, she can hold her own
Espionage: Intelligence gathering, spying, thievery, even diplomacy. She's good at her job.
Lockpicking: Not the best lock pick, but she knows enough to pick the locks she typically needs to for her job.
I KNOW IT LOOKS WEIRD RN, IT'LL FIX WHEN I ADD MORE, I JUST DON'T HAVE THE TIME TO FINISH IT RN, SO BEAR WITH ME
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"What matters not is the power one wields. What does, however, is the heart of whoever it is that uses it."


Name:
Vincent Vordeaux

Age:
Twenty-Six

Class:
Beast Knight/Dark Knight

Homeland:
Clailea

Species:
Velock

Loyalties:
Black Lion Mercenaries
Whoever pays for his unit's services
Anyone he considers a friend

(Not necessarily in that order or priority.)

Appearance:
Despite having been permitted to complete one mission with the Black Lions a year ago, it was a memorable one to say the least. If one were to ask the Princess of Illtharon, a kingdom from the land of Clailea, she would tell you, without any amount of hesitation, that she could never forget the face of the dashing young man from the castle town of Aeris that rescued not only her life, but the fate of her kingdom as well. She would speak of neck-length black hair like the feathers of a raven in the night, and eyes the color of golden topazes that display the fierce fighting spirit of a ferocious carnivore safely housed within the frame of a human body. On his back in a holster, a two-handed greatsword with a shining, almost silver blade with violet runic symbols engraved vertically along it and a well-crafted hilt bearing a circular ruby in the middle. As a Black Lion Mercenary, Vincent wears the standard uniform-- a long, black, white-trimmed coat with matching trousers, a utility belt placed diagonally across his chest that carries a few throwing knives, a pair of dark leather boots, and black fingerless gloves. There is also a small shield-shaped pin on the left side of his coat that is silver in color and bears an insignia resembling a black profile of a roaring lion's head-- the symbol of his unit. Vincent carries a tall yet medium build, and though he is in fact capable of transforming into an enormous, black wolf at will, he carries something of an air of elegance about him, and though he might seem intimidating at first, he's not an unapproachable monster.

Personality:
A young man who's not afraid to defend those he cares for (and, of course, those he's paid to protect), Vincent is a fighter to the end. He never really got to know his birth parents (aside from his mother being a Velock and his father being a blacksmith), having essentially been raised by a group of mercenaries moreso than his own mother and father after being left in their care. As a result, he developed a fondness for battle and a sense of honor, but was not left bereft of compassion and caring, as was given to him by Elizabeth, a beautiful yet powerful warrior woman who was (and still is) the head of the mercenary group and something of a mother figure to him while he served under the Lions' wing. Of course, being what most humans would immediately label as a "lycanthrope" in a group of all-human mercenaries who targeted specifically monsters, Vincent was left out of just about every operation that came about, even when he turned the proper age to help. In spite of this, however, he grew to be proud of his bestial self, and others of his race. This pride would only be solidified when he was (finally) given his first job, which involved traveling to Illtharon to confront the princess, who had been cursed with Velockism by a wicked enchantress on the night of their Moon Festival. The original task was to slay the princess in order to ensure the kingdom's safety from the now-rogue wolf shifter, but as a fellow beastkin, Vincent disobeyed orders and chose to rescue her, and brought the princess to a lake of mystical water in order to break her curse. Not long after, Vincent would go on to defeat the enchantress and return home to Aeris, bringing back with him entire caravans of royal treasure. His fellow Lions realized then just how valuable an asset like him was, and he accepted each and every one of their profuse apologies. Now, Vincent seeks to defend the land from Chaos, and believes he will be aided by the powers above to victory on account of some recent visions...

(Just don't refer to him as a "werewolf", he absolutely hates that.)

Abilities:

Swordfighting: As someone who was essentially brought up from childhood by the Black Lions, Vincent is incredibly proficient with two-handed swords, though as a manner of practice, he very much prefers to use his own weapon rather than being given one.

Beast Form: Vincent, as a Velock, is able to change into a feral wolf at will. This transformation is near-instantaneous and painless since he is a naturally-born shifter. However, he tends to be a bit more violent in this form, trading out the more dignified art of swordfighting for pure bestial might, along with razor-sharp fangs and claws. His personality also darkens somewhat, perhaps due to the instincts of the predator occupying his mind. Vincent is incredibly fleet of foot in this form, and can leap about almost as if it were second nature. A downside of this power, however, is that it can leave him quite hungry if it is abused too often.

Runic Blade: Vincent's sword holds a secret power-- the ability to loose razor-sharp waves of dark energy thanks to the runic symbols inscribed in its blade. However, he will learn of this power further into the plot, and as such is unable to use it, for now.

Beast Expert: While he did not actually carry out any real missions until the age of twenty-five, Vincent studied from the library of bestiaries that belonged to the Black Lions and, along with some anecdotes from his compatriots, amassed a vast amount of knowledge regarding the fauna of the world that is rivaled, perhaps, by only the nature deities that govern the world.
 
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Name: Irael Teloth
Age: A hundred and thirty-seven
Class: Bladesinger
Homeland: Yaren
Species: High (Yareni) Elf
Loyalties: Distant Yaren, his line of ancestry

Appearance:
Seldom do tales of Yaren tell of much else than the elves who inhabit it. Beings of slender figure and elegant grace, their ears as sharp as the glaives they carry, faces as ageless as the oldest of lakes and just as calm, for their distant islands bear not the troubles that outsiders must fear. It is said that no plague or war has ever befallen them, allowing their form to bloom untouched and unrugged, without wrinkle or callus. Yet, Irael is not without wrinkle nor callus, for his dwelling lies elseplace and has done so for over a century, making him unable to claim true high-elven beauty. Still, his figure is slender and his face fair, with hair that flows long and brown in sitant color, along his golden orbs. He peers down at the world from up above, as he is taller than most others and looks upon them with neither gladness nor spite, but intrigued eye instead. His cheekbones lack chisel, although they still come together to create a masculine presence, joined by present brow and shoulder carried broad. Shoulder, the nakedness of which lies hidden away by dress blue and silver and gold, light and crafted clearly by multiple masters. It offers little protection, so it is supplemented with pieces of steel and bronze, covering the forearms, shoulders, hips and neck. Akin to Irael's shoulders broad, these are the line to seperate fair and frail, which is a line he often dares to toe.

Personality:
A patient mind and a lover of arts, Irael is not one to believe in the mortality of artisans, masters and those men in high places, that grant them protection, commision and resource. His beliefs all center around Distant Yaren, which keeps mystery even to the high elves, yet can be oft seen enveloped in mist, long distance away from the shores that could never hope to present themselves even half as magnificent or stunning. And for as long as the towers, more white and pure than polished marble sit obscured by mist, unwavering to age, the names and souls of their creators shall circle about them, transcending mortality. And the lands that surround Distant Yaren may be explored for as long as they are, exposing many a splendorous wonder. That singular island tells Irael all he could ever need, it lends him meaning others may chase after for all of their mortal lives. Not only to him, but all the high elves of the place, although interpretation and consciousness of the fact differs. However, they are not mindless drones, and Irael has his own goals and interests. He travels and observes for amusement and has strayed away from Yaren, where he used to dwell. In order to become a master, one must first gain experience and taste some of the world, this he has taken to heart. And so he joys, revels and learns, socializes, talks and asks, so his name too can one day be ageless.

Abilities:
Spellcasting:
Irael's primary fighting capabilities lie written in elven-rune onto the shaft of his glaive, which serves as a spellbook of sorts, carrying the words of any and all spells he's come to learn thus far. There are four which glow frail, two greater slightly than the first and another four which do not glow at all in any hue. The weapon itself is not magical, instead simply serving as a vessel for Irael's abilities, which, just like any other wizard's, would be crippled heavily without one.
Glaive Proficiency
As a Bladesinger, Irael had to learn not only spell, but also blade. His weapon of choice became a glaive, which he has now been handling for some time, although lacking any sort of actual experience with it, other than sparring here and there.
Bladesong
A technique passed down from generation to generation, the Bladesong is a secret of the Yaren elves. It allows its user to move with more swiftness, perception and concentration, as well as increasing reflexes. Irael holds the knowledge to it, however, he has never come to using it, excluding him from the list of its practitioners. Were he to unleash it for the first time, there would certainly be a clear lack of refinement.

"So long, the masters may be gone, yet their names are still being ushered by their make."
 
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"In a perfect world, every man and woman can make a big difference. Alas, we are not in a perfect world. I only wish to help all to see who can make that difference."

Name:
Jonathan Eudician Luminare

Age:
Thirty-two

Class:
Cleric/Wizard

Homeland:
Astara

Species:
Human

Loyalties:
Audair - Deity of Light and Healers
Luminare Bloodline
Academy of Magics [Astara main branch]: Though if it were to compromise his faith and his family, he will not hesitate to turn his back on them
In that particular order

Appearance:
Dark and short hair cover the top of his head - often messy and ruffled because of the hood that covers it to protect the man under from the blazing heat and the biting cold. But never has it been deserving to be called truly inappropriate with the amount of care that has gone into it from the years that it has been grown and cut. When not drenched in sweat from the heat of travels, it is soft to the touch - alluringly so until one's hand is ripped away. Golden eyes always sparking with gluttony for knowledge and information - always seeking and devouring. Sparking a roaring inferno - raging forth and pushing. It can even be said that it's almost intimidating, how easily one can get lost in the heat of those same golden eyes until it flickers away, replaced with something gentler that is often used for socialization.

Fair skin proving a man who has ventured forth without a care. Through heat, through snow - the man has trudged through it all. Fit, acceptably so, thanks to all these travels but it is clear that he is no warrior. Nevermind all that - it is rare to see any skin aside from his face after all. Dressed in mage clothing, dark cloak loosely hanging onto his frame. Though clerics such as himself do not dress in a way that would bring attention to themselves, Jonathan wears what Luminare mages do which are often made of stronger fabrics so it does not easily rip. As a cleric of Audair, he wears her amulet around his neck which shows everyone who he is a priest of.

Personality:
A man of faith first and foremost - Jonathan lives by the words and tenets of his deity. He is often regarded as a kind person who helps those in need, as per the rules of his faith. He does not discriminate on who he aids, so long as they are in need. However, the exception to this rule is those that bring harm to others with no other good reason than an action that is inherently evil. It is then left to the discretion of each cleric if they are to help or not. It is also said that followers of Audair cannot bring harm to others but it is a false testament as they are allowed to fight for their life or to protect a greater number of innocent people. Their causes are often noble in itself - though most would argue that their goals are foolish but they pay them no mind. Jonathan is no different - he's been called careless and foolish but his faith lies stronger than petty talks and rumors.

Compassion is a trait Jonathan has lived with even before he became a man of faith. The Luminare family is not perfect, noble in lineage, it is understandable that they have a sort of distaste for the common folk. And admittedly, Jonathan does as well. A voice at the back of his head still nags at him to this day, in loathing of the common rabble. It's hard to remove something ingrained within you for so long but he is quick to fight against this voice in his head - and oftentimes he would even fight against those who look down on them. While he may not be able to help everyone in terms of their financial status, the least he can do is alleviate some pain with healing magic. It is one of the reasons why he trained as a priest after he had graduated from the Academy.

But passion is what drives Jonathan - a certain hunger for knowledge. There is no doubt that the Academy was the one to start the flame of this passion, what with their seemingly endless books neatly aligned in every library. Truly, it is no wonder that every graduate comes out seeking more knowledge or to settle down and impart said knowledge. Jonathan was the former. Along with his travels in multiple caravans and traveling groups and even alone as he searches for anyone who needs help, he also seeks lost knowledge. He takes in what he can from the world around him and then seeks to find some more. He loves talking to people when it comes to gathering information - even from the most basic of things like gardening to more advanced lessons of politics. Scholarly, is what people would most often call him and it is clear to see that there is true passion - true love for learning as he keeps them in memory.

Abilities:
Healing Magic:
Jonathan is well-versed in the arts of healing magic. As both priest and cleric of Audair, he has studied for years in the temple and even on the field with other clerics. This gives him the ability to mend wounds. This ranges from mere scratches to broken bones, it is only a matter of time and energy for Jonathan to be able to fix someone up. However, the graver the wound, the more magic it would take out of Jonathan and it would leave him magically drained if he used too much - and he would have to rest before he can use magic again and it is also physically draining if he tries to push himself even further than he is capable. He also must be able to touch the person in question on whatever part of their body. This does not have to be skin-to-skin contact as he can still heal through clothing. This can be exempted if used in tandem with a staff that would allow for a wider range to heal people from - even without physical contact.

Light Magic: Often confused to actually be the umbrella term that contains healing, it is most certainly not. Light magic often deals with the nullification of dark magic and clerics are often trained in this as well. Effective against the undead and black magic users, it serves to weaken the enemy who uses these but also serves to strengthen allies of the light. Its spells are often used to support allies mentally, physically and even magically. It can be used to banish possessing spirits through a series of spells that takes out a lot from the user and is only known to be performed by high-ranking light magic users - which Jonathan is not but is currently training in. This can also serve as a way to literally bring light by creating magical balls. There are little applications of light magic in fighting - though it can be used for status effect spells like stunning and dazing, only high level light spells can actually harm an opponent without them being undead. This can be amplified with the use of a staff like most magic.

Runic Language: As a scholar and graduate of the Academy of Magics, he is proficient in the reading of ancient runes - especially runes that are magical in nature. Jonathan can also write in said language, often to be used for encryption in case he wants to only be able to reach out to fellow academy graduates or if he wants to keep it to himself.

Alchemy: As a cleric, Jonathan was taught how to brew potions. Given the right equipment and the right ingredients, he's able to brew potions for basic illnesses and injuries. Healing salves are rather basic for him to make but more advanced potions are not something within Jonathan's knowledge.

 
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Age: Twenty One
Class: Hunter / Ranger
Homeland: Easteros
Species: Human
Loyalties: Anyone not actively trying to kill her


Personality: Dianne spent much of her adolescent life as a lower class hunter in her homeland. As such, she has grown into a relatively humble, albeit nomadic woman. However, this is not to say she is entirely well-tempered, nor above irreverence. The amount of time she spends alone on her journeys has certainly done little in the way of her social aptitude. On the real though, she's picked up quite a few tricks in her career, and her dedication to her craft has made her a fine hunter for her age, even if there are still those with more experience. Still, Dianne aspires to one day be the best damn archer in all the land.


Abilities: Nobody understands better than Dianne that a successful hunter should bring the right tools to the job. So just in case, she brought everything.

-Enchanted Arrows-
Dianne's quiver is equipped with various magic attachments that aid her in hunting. Arrows can periodically duplicate themselves from within the quiver, and when fired, can perform a range of actions - namely curving in the direction of targets mid-flight or splintering into smaller projectiles to cover a wider area.


-Magic Traps-
A satchel at Dianne's side contains a number of rune-covered disks that can be activated to detonate with a non-lethal affect at proximity. Anything that comes in range is ensnared by a snapping rope.

-Snack Time-
Naturally Dianne has the tools and know-how to quickly and efficiently skin prey for their pelts and meat. Animal prey, of course. No cannibalism here.
 
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Name: Almeria Veliata
Age: 345 (equivalents to 25)
Class: Storm Druid
Species: Winged Dryad
Homeland: Lythatria
Role: Druid (Religious) attache to the Lythatrian Ambassador
Abilities:
Wind magic
Lightning magic
Both above two self explanatory, she can cast winds to blow away foes and help her fly or use lightning to fry foes. However it is reliant on nature and though she can get by in urban areas her true power is shows when she is amongst nature able to call lightning from the sky.
Nature Communication:
She is able to communicate with nature whether is flora and fauna, getting a good idea of her surrounding and even encourage plants to grow.
Wip
 
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Channarong

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"Combat Me If You Wish But.... Don't Wake The Beast."
Personal
Name:
Channarong 'The Fighting Beast'
Age: 'Unknown' Assumed As 30+ Years
Class: Mad Monk
Species: Half-Oni
Homeland: Veliona
Loyalties: Whoever may feed him or pay him.


Character
An Infamous figure of the land of Veliona. Channarong belonged to no clan, no armies or people. He is & simple was... A warrior. One who didn't use or desired a weapon but had one which he carried at all times... His own body. A mountain of physical ability, Seemingly carved from stone and refined as a golem of war made flesh. Dwarfing the common races in size despite where he appeared. In a land filled with skillful combatants of various practices, Channarong became a figure of destruction & strength for years. Some say that he is a cursed monster who seeks vengeance, some say that he is a demon belonging to the vilest pits of the next life having been born from the bleakest womb to ever nurture a child whilst say that he is just a warrior who was here for time.

...

One thing is certain...

He

is

Channarong

Personality

An imposing person is Channarong but he doesn't seem all of that. Believing that everyone has a chance to be respected or be kind towards, he is a passive individual who goes with the flow & goes with how life grants.... however he changes when he enters battle. Serious & merciless as he will butcher & destroy whoever may seek to fight him with the intent to kill but if it's a friendly bout then he'll often times lose. Having no care about anything aside from those around him which he'll often times put himself in danger for their safety despite whatever they may say but he'll never forgo a challenge/duel from the likest of a Monk or a combative Demon.

Abilities

A Peak Physical Trained Body
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Channarong's body oozes an aura of power & endurance but he holds true to a form of cunning & agility despite his hulking frame. As nimble as an master elven assassin, strong as an mighty orge warlord & durable as a raging orc barbarian from the north grant Channarong a mighty boon in comparison to many power-based melee warriors as his fists are like hammers, his elbows like maces, his knees like spears & his kicks like great swords.


Excellent Martial Artist
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Whilst this titan may seem an unskillful brute, he has been fighting in a unique matter for much time. A style of powerful punches, swift elbows, powerful knees & destructive kicks to demolish the guards of his opponents whilst he is able of grappling with the most vicious of brutes. Whilst range opponents are a major weakness for such a fighter, if he manages to know where his attack is coming from then he'll be able of closing the distance at a rapid pace.


Advanced Chi Manipulation
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Whilst all life has an inter power of 'Chi.' Not all can use but even more so, those who can use it for combative purpose effectively. Forcible toughen his body through a form of breath is one way whilst another is manifest a large-fireball and launching it forward at different speeds at his choice. It's usage is flexible in the format & he can quickly change the tide of a battle if he uses a powerful technique.

Asura's Chi
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Many of those who are troubled by feelings of anger & fury awaken a more violent form of 'Chi.' This is known as 'Asura's Chi,' Connecting to a great fighter who gave into his most dark and corrupt desires. This Chi forcible injuries the body for more violent power & strength, granting a boost in might at the cost of one's own sanity. Some say that it rips apart the face of the user until there is nothing but bone which depends on how strong ones connect is to 'Asura's Chi' which may be Channarong is deeply connected with it.
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'An Example of how far gone Channarong is.'

Details

  1. Based around fighting game-styled characters who make usage of Muay Thai - The Type of Martial Art - Channarong uses.
  2. Chi-Based attacks will have an anime-like feel. (A loud roar of it's name being shouted, Very Powerful & generally, causes an explosion alongside being very noticeable.)
 
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