Fandom WFRP: Doom Tide

[archur]

Your Name Here​

Race: (What race are you? This can be most anything within reason. Humans, dwarfs, elves, and some other races granted there's good enough reason for them to be willing to defend Praag.)
Age: (This roleplay's age range is anywhere past adulthood for your race.)
Gender: (What they identify as/present themselves as.)


Biography: (Where did your character's story truly start? You can of course start from childhood or earlier, but the most pertinent parts of your character's backstory are what we're looking for here.)
Appearance: (What does your character look like? A picture is preferred, but a description also works. Please, don't make your description of what your character looks like over a paragraph.)
Personality: (What is your character like as a person? How do they respond to certain situations? With friends? Enemies? Do they anger quickly, or are they mellow? How did their past form them as a person now? Try not to bullet point.)
Gear: (What does your character have on their person? General gear, weapons, armor, etc. What do they have, and how much do they have?)

Other: (Some people have things that just can't be put anywhere else here. Theme songs, outfit pictures, previous interactions or history with other characters belong here, or really, whatever you wish belongs here.)

-x-

You will know your sheet is accepted when I give it a like.

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Siegfried von Delberz

Race:
Human

Age:
19

Gender:
Male

Biography:
Siegfried's story begins not with him, but with his father, Franz von Delberz, or formerly, Franz Wal. Franz was once a footsoldier in the retinue of Boris Toddbringer, cutting his teeth during one of the Graf's many campaigns against the Beastmen. It was here that he proved himself a warrior, and earned both recognition and infamy. Franz was a hard man, as stubborn and stuck in his ways as his fellow Middenlanders, and as such, he caught the eye of the Graf. For his deeds, Franz was knighted, and given a place amongst the exalted Knights of the White Wolf, as well as being given rulership of his home town of Delberz. It was in this very town that he met his future wife Arda, a field surgeon from Altdorf helping wounded troops. Despite their differences, they found common ground in their convictions, and soon married. From their marriage came one and only child, a boy named Siegfried.

Siegfried split much of his time between his parents, with his father often out fighting while his mother became a professor in the capital. As such, he developed a unique set of skills. He could ride a horse not long after he could walk, had a good knowledge of the Empire and it's history, and has a familiarity with both the Cult of Ulric and the Cult of Sigmar in equal measure, though he tends to favor the further. Franz was never a loving father, often being incredibly harsh in his punishments, and quick with his temper. This bled into his son as well, and before he was even a man, Siegried was determined to become a knight, same as his father. But before that, he needed to train. Once he turned thirteen, his father took him to Middenheim, where he spent his time learning discipline, martial prowess, and the faith of Ulric. But his mother was always there to provide her own insight, requesting that their son receive more training before becoming a squire. As such, against Franz's judgement, Siegfried briefly joined the Pistoliers. Despite Middenlander's...unsavory reputation, he was remarked as an excellent soldier in all regards. Loyal, disciplined, humble, and courageous. His only downside was his faith, and his lack of any tolerance for nonsense. This culminated in him getting into quite a brutal bar fight with some fellow nobles, breaking one of their arms and smashing a few tables in the process. He was kicked out of his regiment, though he managed to smuggle his pistol out just in case. While many saw it as a shameful display, his father did not. So, he offered his son a second chance (more as a formality than an actual second chance, Siegfried did not need to redeem himself in Franz's eyes.) Sieg would become his squire, and perform a deed of great heroism to joing the ranks of the White Wolves. What that deed was was up to Siegfried, as he was given a horse, some armor, and a hammer and set out upon the Old World. Currently, he finds himself in Praag, investigating rumors of Chaos and other dark forces at play in the city.
Appearance: (What does your character look like? A picture is preferred, but a description also works. Please, don't make your description of what your character looks like over a paragraph.)

He matches what you'd expect of an follower of Ulric, with long, unkept hair, and even a bit of stubble here and there.

Personality:
Siegfried very much takes after both of his parents in many ways. The one trait he received from both his parents was his nearly supernatural willpower and resolve. Few things can deter Sieg from his goals, and Sigmar save you if you're in his way. It crosses right over into unbelievable stubbornness, just like his father. Much like Franz, Siegfried can often be a man of few words, preferring to let his actions speak louder than whatever leaves his mouth. He's also a bit cold and ruthless, having little to no pity for his enemies. But he is not without compassion. He cares for each and every one of his countrymen. Middenalnders, Reiklanders, all our his kin, and he would kill and die for them all. Comradery and loyalty is everything to the squire, and to die in defense of his allies is the greatest honor of all. That being said, he's not all doom and gloom. He has a dry, if blunt sense of humor, and isn't afraid to criticize others for bad ideas or double standards. He can also be a bit sly, not shying away from dirty tactics if need be, despite his kinsmen's reputation for fighting head on.

Gear:
-He wears a basic set of chainmail, with a tabard and metal shoulder plates, gauntlets, and boots to match. Around it is draped the skin of a wolf he himself killed, though he used a spear someone else made, so it didn't count as his initiation.

-His primary weapon is the signature warhammer of the White Wolves. It's not very fancy, and lacks any embellishment. It's blunt, straightfoward, and uncomplicated: just like the man who wields it.

-He also carries a single flintlock pistol for emergencies. While followers of Ulric see ranged weapons as cowardly, Siegfried's time in the pistoliers taught him that gunpowder is quite a valuable tool, especially against the untold horrors of the Old World.

-His finaly piece of gear is not a weapon or a pice of armor. Instead, it's his horse. Actually, calling it a horse is an understatement. You wouldn't be wrong in assuming it's some sort of creation by Beastmen. It's simply named Hammer, and it's size reflects this name. It's an utterly massive creature, over twice it's riders size, and just as strong. It has just as stubborn a disposition and Siegfried, and listens only to his commands.


Other:
Theme:
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[archur]

Elizabeth Von Haas​

Spoiler: Appearance, Spoiler'd for space

Race: Not a vampire, certainly a preposterous accusation.
Age: It's quite rude to ask a woman her age.
Gender: Female

Biography: Elizabeth was, for the longest time, unremarkable. Her childhood? Daughter of a duke of a no-name land in a nearly forgettable backwater part of the empire, only truly remembered for their strange language, people, and shared borders with the southern Border Princes: Sylvania. Otto Von Haas simply wanted nothing more than to keep his wealth to himself, having grown paranoid and secretive in his advanced age, creating secret compartments in his estate to hide his the family riches. Poor Elizabeth, an only child of a madman with no mother to care for her, and but a single servant to watch her as she grew up. She was a very lonely child, only sparsely learning about court mannerisms from the few moments of sanity her father allowed himself when not trying to hide his family's heirloom blade from "the skittering creatures in the walls", and he had believed they had tunneled underneath the house, stalking his every move, biding their time until he stepped foot outside the safety of his home.

On her 18th year, her eventually father locked himself away in a single room for good, the blade of pure enchanted emerald in hand. She never saw him again after that day, and with Otto went the name and fortune of the Von Haas bloodline, as he had not left a will.

However, as Elizabeth found herself struggling to find all the riches and secret treasures her father had meticulously hidden away, she found that some were missing. Squirreled away somewhere by something else, someone else. Perhaps, her father had reason for the fear that had dominated his life? Years later, after scouring the many places they had once owned for their spread out fortune, she had returned to the estate she grew up in, and discovered her father's fate. He had ended his life at his own hands, having attempted to replicate some sort of strange ritual. It involved blood, and it was incomplete it seemed. He had vials and vials of what she could only assume to be his own blood, and yet...

She attempted to rationalize everything she had seen, and had her father buried shorty after. She could not keep her mind off the blood, and the vials, and the ritual. What could it mean? It was in the middle of the night when she received a strange visitor. Apparently, they knew of her father's ritual and had been watching him for some time. They wanted to help Elizabeth understand the arcane sacrament, and complete it if she wished. They refused to explain the ritual, but she accepted their help, and the stranger was invited in.

From then, her life as a vampire came to be. She was given the red kiss moments after she had explained her situation. The money, the ritual, the madness. To her, it seemed this mystery would take a lifetime to solve. What was the purpose of the ritual? What hidden meaning did the blade hold? What were the strange creatures that had stalked her father, and why? She knew that as she dug deeper into the truth, danger and death would follow. To this, the stranger had already made preparations. They had forseen this, and said she would have as much time as she needed in exchange for ownership of the blood, the heirloom, and the few scraps of pages for the ritual. It was a deal she couldn't refuse. After all, they were sentimental at best, and as far as she knew, they brought about her father's death.

Many, many more years later, and her father was but a distant blip now. That night, the blood, the strange instructions, the sword. It mattered not anymore what happened to them, and she was sure that whomever bestowed immortality on her was doing nefarious things with what was surely a failed attempt at lichedom and a warpstone blade. Now, after finding the truth and fleeing to the north, she had everything she wanted. A quiet life, uncomplicated and stagnant. She had servants at her beck and call, and willing thralls begging to share their blood with her. What more could she ask for?

Personality:
On the offset, Elizabeth presents herself as a rather demure noblewoman. Reserved, almost restrained in her action, but beneath that sheen of civility is a panicked and nervous wreck of an animal. With the news of the Norscans coming to take and pillage, this sort of behavior is understandable, despite her important leadership position. Normally, she tries to maintain as much of a distance from the commoners as possible, and help keep the governor in good relations with the other political entities and figures he deals with every day. In these times, she feels that the governor had abandoned her, and the city to their doom and has fallen into near melancholy and nihilism since.

Within most circumstances, knowing the danger of her species, Elizabeth does her very best to not reveal under any circumstance that she is in fact a vampire. She only partakes in vampiric activities behind closed doors. Bloodsucking is through anonymous sources, undead thralls are kept at a minimum as to hide their identities and existence, and other unsavory behaviors such as excessive drinking are done out of sight. At least the latter is more acceptable in Kislev, as Elizabeth is a chronic alcoholic, supping fine wine and vodka twice as much as she does blood.

Finally, concerning others, she does not have any mortal she could consider trustworthy. Even the governor does not know the truth behind his court magician, only assuming she was merely an accomplished amethyst hedge mage who had enough nobility about her to consider granting the title of court wizard. She only has Victor, her wight to confide in. Many rumors of his origin and purpose surround the two of them, ranging from mercenary work, a bulky cousin with leprosy, to a personal man whore, or some combination of those. In truth, he is her silent protector, and nothing more. She has unloaded many of her problems unto him, and with his silent presence, Elizabeth had found many solutions with his guidance. He is mute.

Gear:
- Countess's Gown: Elizabeth feels no need to wear proper armor, instead opting to go for a more regal approach to combat: Let Victor do the work of taking the blows. She's a mage after all, she's not supposed to be engaging in combat. Nonetheless, she does have preternatural speed that is inherent to all vampires to aid her in escape.

- Dagger: It's an ornate dagger, but is nothing more than a dagger and a focus for her power. She rarely unsheathes it, but when she does, one would notice that it's perfectly polished, and engraved with bats and skeletons. Very telling. She sleeps with it under her pillow.

- Victor: You could say the Wizard's Mount is something of a belonging to Elizabeth, not that Victor would retort. Verbally. He is typical of an average wight. Physically powerful, bound together by potent magics that are enhanced by his summoner's presence. He is clad in full platemail at all times, armed with shield and sword.

Spoiler: Victor's Appearance

- Spellbook: A rather thick tome of a collection of various techniques and spells Elizabeth has practiced. Many of these are related to magic from the wind of death, shyish. Though, seeded within some pages are spells that reflect her vampiric nature, twisting the winds to a twisted necromantic purpose. Of these spells, most notable of them is the ritual to raise a wight.

Other: Here's a theme.

 

[Karcen]

Serais The Travler​

Race: Human
Age: looks 30 likely much older the warp is funny
Gender: Female


Biography: Serais dose not speak much of her history often only telling others she is a traveler from another land and little else. The truth is a little more complicated as not even Serais knows how true her recollection of her own history is. What she claims is the truth is that she is from a kingdom no one seems to have heard of. She says she was a righteous knight of the kingdom, but chaos came and did as it is want to do. the Kingdom held off many such dark crusades before and would have held this one off if not for a traitor among the defenders giving away a secret way into the capitol. Serais claims this spelled the end for the kingdom as it's rulers were slaughtered and the army slowly ground down. How she survived she claims to not know but she swore vengeance upon the worshipers of chaos for this.

Serais chased after the hordes as they returned home after this successful plunder. Serias fueled by rage and a desire to get her revenge at any cost didn't even realize the path she had started down. Serais would follow the dark army further and further north into the lands of chaos itself and there she would at first take down lone champions and worshipers, or small groups, but she realized she would never take them all down at this rate. So she chose to collect some followers she thought were able to be redeemed forming a small warband without ever realizing just what she was becoming. From there the path was paved with compromising, take on a priest here, or a relic there, it was all for revenge and Serais found the longer it took to get her vengeance, the angrier she got and the angrier she got the stronger she was. For all her hate of chaos one of the gods had taken a shine to her. Serais would lead her warband for who knew how long searching and searching becoming more the thing she hated.

After an eternity of searching Serais would find what she wanted, the champion that had lead the army that destroyed her home. His army had slowly fractured and separated leaving him with just his warband, and Serais with hers. The two hosts did battle, chaos magics and calls tot he dark gods shouted by both groups. Serais would fight to and engage her hated enemy is one on one combat, two champions of chaos clashing for the favor of the same god without even realizing it. How long the battle raged was impossible to tell as when the mortal warriors died demons took their place as the two champions continued their duel. The enemy was bolstered and blessed, armed and armored with chaos forged equipment and should any normal man fight him they would die. Serais was no longer normal for she was every bit the champion he was. Still the duel would be decided by one blow, and serais took her enemies head.

The joy of victory washed over her and only when at last her enemy was dead did she look around. Serais was surrounded by the demons of khrone. She readied herself for a fight , only to find there was no fight, instead a bloodletter came froth with a demonic blade, a blade truly possesed, a trinket for only the chosen of the chaos gods. This was a wake up call for Serais, as she realized what had happened. Her desire to kill chaos had lead her right into it's grasp. Serais was on the very cusp of madness, she felt all the rage drain from her as she stared at the blade. Serais started to reach out , to give in, to let herself float away and forget. Then she heard a voice, a little whisper. Serais had drawn the eyes of not one chaos god but two and the second one hated chaos as much as she did. The voice promised her the power to fight chaos and all it's champions if she served it. Serais was damned no matter what she did so she accepted the deal.

Serais Struck out at the demons with a new strength and hatred, they had sought a champion of Khrone and instead found a champion of Malal the renegade god. Serais would once more start her mission to kill chaos, but this time she knew who she served and she knew their goals were the same. Serais would once more hunt for who knew how long seeking out champion after champion of the other gods to slay and offer to her new patron. Serais would slowly remake herself, forging new armor that looked like her old armor but was made in the lands of chaos and thus imbued with the strength of her god. She made a new blade to which she bound a demon of her god, who was rather unhappy about being thrown into the forge for this. The demon still whispers to Serais and might even be able to move itself.

When Serais was at least a true champion of Malal Serais would hear the whisper once more. Her god had a use for her in another place far away. Serais would go no matter what she might say, and in truth she didn't care she wanted tog o and kill more champions. Now Serais wanders the new and old world hunting down the champions of other gods.

Spoiler: apperance

Personality: Serais hates chaos, that is a one of her most defining traits, her unending burning hate chaos in all its forms. She is focused on it's destruction, or destroying as much of it's mortal toys as she can. Serais hates all those that give into the power of chaos, she hates the demons of chaos, and she hates the gods. Serais even hates herself and her god. that is the lot of a champion of Malal to hate everything that you are to abhor chaos in all its forms. Serais tends to stay alone, traveling where she hears the forces of chaos are gathering and when she can find no champions in the normal lands she travels to the chaos wastes to hunt more. When those few madmen try to join her either not knowing her god or even knowing them, she slays them, she will have no new warband for she could not tolerate being around chaos worshipers. When in the normal lands Serais is very focused on whichever champion is her target. Still not everything is hate and death with Serais she is still human, she is filled with hate for chaos, but not for everything and even a chaos champion needs some rest. Lacking a warband she also needs to get supplies herself, though she needs less than back in the old days. When not bathing in the blood of chaos champions Serais can actually be a nice if a bit secretive person, if there is a none chaos threat she has sometimes helped out in dealing with them, but should she get a whiff of chaos she will leave on her next hunt.
Gear:
Chaos plate: Her armored is plate that has been forged in the choas wastes and empowered by the dark powers there. Despite this it gleams a beautiful silvery white looking almost radiant and hiding it's origin. The plate while not possessed is far more resilient than normal armor and can seemingly repair itself over a period of days.

Spoiler: her armor

ScizZcis: The demon sword, it is was a demon of the god malal till it was beaten and forced into the blade by Serais. This was warped the blade staining it black and giving it a more demonic look. The demon can speak from inside the blade and move the blade itself when not held by Serais. When the blade is plunged into a foe the demon drinks the enemie's life leaving just a withered husk and giving a bit of this energy to serais to stave off the wasting effect of her service to malal.

Spoiler: ScizZcis

Other:
dirge of malal:

Take the rot, to make it flesh.
Take the skull, the soul to rest.
Take their mind and give them peace.
Take their will. Sensations cease.

"We are the flames that scorch the garden of rot."
"We are the waves that erode the mountain of skulls."
"We are the quakes that shatter the labyrinth of lies."
"We are the storms that rend the palace of perfection."
"We are Malal."

To the Skin, Ice
To the Rot, Fire
To the Skull, Steel
To the Mind, Night
theme: