[CHAR] The Accomplished

[Roleplayer001]

Acamen Hopsfield

Examplar of the Brilliant Gold

Acamen Hopsfield

Human White Mage

Appearance
While not wearing robes, Acamen appears to be flawless. That is not to say he is handsome, just to say that no blight or blemish or disfigurement has touched his body. Compared to most men, the white mage is smaller than his reputation, standing at a modest five-foot six and lean in build. However, that build is 145 pounds of pure muscle from his many years of traveling. His light olive skin indicates than he was initially from the south, but his recent travels up north have slowly drained away his native coloring. The white mages eyes and hair are both a brilliant gold, probably a result of an overuse of white magic.

Age: Fifty Six
Race: Human
Gender: Male

Rise to Power
Born into the peasantry, Acamen's was the son of a brewer. Acamen could be said to be part of the middle class, so being friends with some of the more well-off children was not uncommon.

The future white mage had been childhood friends with Maruna, the daughter of the local baronet. As they approached the early teenage years the two started to become more romantic and the baronet split them apart upon being informed that they had been holding hands and kissing. Despite the possibility of being executed, Acamen walked straight up to the lord's manor and accused him of being unfair. After all, this was true love. The local baronet, sympathetic to Acamen, stated that the reality of the world was that Acamen was the son of a high quality brewer while Maruna was nobility. The lady had already received a marriage offer from a thirty-something year old knight who had taken lands in a recent war.

Acamen stated that Maruna wouldn't be happy with the knight, which the baronet agreed to. So the baronet made an offer; if Acamen could prove himself more manly and bring along a larger dowry than the knight could offer, Acamen could take Maruna's hand in marriage. Acamen vowed he would be back by the end of the week. The future mage immediately went to the tavern his mother ran, the village laughing at the young man.

Acamen returned with five times the knights drowry at the end of the week. The baronet, surprised, asked how Acamen acquired so much gold. Upon summoning a golden staff of light engraved in draconic runes, it became clear that Acamen had defeated the dragon god of light. The baronet was glad to allow Acamen to join hands with his daughter. The village threw a party for them, singing praises to their new hero.

Two years later Acamen broke up with Maruna because she had become a bitch. Her reputation as the hero's girl made her gradually become insufferable. Acamen, wanting to avoid the fallout, left home at sixteen to explore the world.

The white mage immediately met up with an angel, also named Maruna, and after much confusion started traveling with her. Over time, they defeated the dragon gods of water, fire, and darkness. They acquired artifacts from each of them along with a ridiculous amount of wealth, on the sole condition that Acamen never explained to anyone how the pair defeated the dragon gods. The angel, although initially annoyed that Acamen had defeated one of her gods, eventually grew to appreciate the young man. Maruna started to cook the mage dinner, sing him songs, and take care of him.

Ten years had passed, and the angel eventually gave up and simply asked the white mage what their relationship was. The white mage blinked, assuming they were just good friends, and she was simply being nice to him because she was an angel. After some violence and a little convincing, they were married. Acamen was twenty seven.

Years passed and the pair took down many beasts, great and small. They fought in the Schattenwald over the years. They healed the wounded. They cured great kings of ailments no other could. Eventually they had a child. After raising her for ten years the pair returned to adventuring, stepping up their game. Partially wanting to impress the other and partially wanting to impress their daughter, the parents would head into more and more dangerous quests. Their reputation grew. After confronting an entire undead army together in Schattenwald, Maruna died in Acamen's hands. The forty four year old mage ended his career on the spot.

Combat Skills
Acamen is a masterful white mage. Not just a simple healer, Acamen is adept at calling upon both his own strength and those in the heavens to smite those who stand before him. He can enhance allies endurance, allowing them to fight longer. He can cast heavenly chains upon those who he wants to capture or who are moving too damn much for him to be able to cast a major spell on. He can temporarily allow himself to fly, granting him a bird's eye's view of the battlefield. These are just a few examples of his white magic.

The Exemplar also has learned the spear well, but most of his strength is because of the weapon itself and not natural talent.

Hobbies
Brewing - Sometimes, Acamen wants to experience the nostalgia of his home town.
Singing - Having learned it from his wife, this is one of the things Acamen learned from her over time. He sometimes does it while he fights.
Games - Want to play tafl? Acamen will be your player.
Melee fighting - While having little talent in the area and incapable of acquiring divinity, Acamen has always enjoyed the tales of knights.
Reading - He is a Magician and therefore gathering knowledge is essential.

Your Gear
The Brilliant Gold - While normally a staff, the points can join together at the top to form a spear. This staff enhances white magic and is the sign that Acamen defeated the dragon god of light. He holds this weapon dear.
The Purity - The robes Acamen wear give him resistance against mind altering affects and combined with the small amount of armour beneath grant him protection against melee attacks. Somehow, they seem to weigh only a few pounds. Formally worn by an archangel, the dragon god of darkness granted these to Acamen
The Crusafix - A holy cross enhancing his abilities to call upon the heavens, this formerly belonged to Maruna. He holds it sacred.
The Crimson Flame - The legendary sword of fire granted by the fire dragon god. Having never actually used it, Acamen is looking to give it away.

Your retinue
Thirty Golden Lances - Heavily armored and riding white horses, these Paladins are loyal to Acamen after his deeds in the name of the dragon god. Many of these men were personally trained by Acamen.
Ezekala - Named after her grandmother, Ezekala is Acamens twenty five year old daughter. An angel, she wears her mother's robes and wields her sword. She has a special hatred for darkness and is somewhat immature (she is mentally sixteen due to being an angel). However, she is incredibly strong.

Retirement
Acamen's twelve year retirement rotated between his parent's tavern and the tower that he and Maruna lived in. At his parent's tavern he focused on raising his daughter and enjoying himself. The white mage learned to brew and how to run a buisness, and enjoyed life in a more casual manner. He remet with Maruna, and found out that she was happy with her marriage to the knight. After catching up, they rekindled their friendship. Maruna is somewhat of a mother figure to Ezekala, and advises her on life.

At his tower, the white mage continues to study and trains his daughter along with the next generation of Paladins and Lightcallers. Regarded as one of the best teachers, many of his former students are excited to see him in action and are eager to travel to the north.

It is rumored that sometimes he visits the dragon gods he defeats, but that is not certain.

Your family
With both his parents still alive (mostly due to being around a healing bulb) and his daughter, Acamen has his family that he loves. Many of his students are like children, and will visit him from time to time in order to tell him of their accomplishments.

[McHaggis]

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[The New Yorker]

Sarel Drevan

Doctor Facsimile

_{Sarel Drevan}

Drow Master Alchemist

Sarel has very dark features, even for a Drow. He has dark bags under his eyes from the change in his environment, and the unnatural introduction of direct sunlight into his life. His eyes are a light silver, very much like his hair; the wisps of which swirl around his head more often than not. He has a defined musculature which stretches his ashy black skin. In some ways he is far more appealing than most other Drow, having soft, nonabrasive characteristics.

Actual Age
287 (38)

Race
Drow

Gender
Male

Rise to Power
Sarel was forced to flee the Underdark, from his home, family, and friends, when his royal bloodline was usurped by a Fungal Valley Drow tribe. In the amount of time Sarel had to learn from his own kind he had developed an acute affinity for the sacred studies of the Drow; including biology, herbalism, and, most of all, alchemy. Emerging from the Underdark caverns was at first difficult for Sarel. He eased into the circumstance by behaving as nocturnally as possible, hunting and foraging at night while he studied and brewed in ramshackle shelters during the day.

After a few decades of living like this, discovering new mixtures and blends, new elements to combine, Sarel could finally venture out into the daylight with minimal harm to his sight. As he discovered villages and towns during his journeys he found that there were always new ailments to cure, always strange, new conditions to experiment with. Sarel became very familiar with medicine and surgery in his efforts to make a living in the world above ground. As a child he trained with his father in fencing and pugilism, and those years of training stuck with him even to this day.

As he roamed the countryside Sarel heard rumors of a rash of murders. As he investigated further he discovered that each victim that was found had the same sorts of incisions behind the ear and above the ribs. After negotiating a price for his efforts with the Duke of the land Sarel agreed to find the culprit. An autopsy of the bodies concluded that the murderer was harvesting organs: hearts, livers, and almost always parts of the brain. Even after extensive research and years of investigation Sarel could not find a potential lead. He was forced to abandon the search and move on.

As Sarel adventured more, and met different kinds of people, he picked up even more vital information and skills. He found that he could bottle magical energy with very specific tools, this changed his life entirely. He began developing elixers which would hold in them the potential for some of the most powerful spells. With this new gamaut of abilities Sarel repelled a tribe of attacking Stone Giants, felled a Necromancer turned Lich, and captured a werewolf for experimentation and study. After curing the werewolf, and discovering his name was Gerald Newcastle, the doctor and patient developed a bond. Gerald agreed to follow Sarel throughout his journeys in repayment for his help in controlling his more wild nature. It was with Gerald that Sarel finally got a whiff of the trail he'd been trying to find since he began his romp through the above ground world. He heard rumors of another rash of similar murders, and, after investigating further, was able to find the name of a suspicious scientist by the name of Dr. Jacobi. When Sarel confronted him Jacobi attempted to flee. He summoned a massive flesh demon from his basement and nearly destroyed the city in order to get away. Sarel and Gerald were able to kill the doctor and his demon by transforming themselves. Gerald nearly died in his most powerful werewolf form as he defended Sarel, who was attempting to concoct a new potion with the help of the doctor's lab. Swallowing the shining yellow liquid Sarel was transformed into a massive, brutish version of himself. With this new-found strength Sarel ripped the demon's throat out and stomped on Dr. Jacobi's head.

After several commendations for his valiant efforts Sarel finally received the payment from his deal with the Duke of the Green Ranges. He settled down in the city he helped to save, in order to assist in the rebuilding of it. After several decades of living and working as both an alchemist and medical practitioner Sarel discovered that he enjoyed the more comfortable side of life. In the end, it turns out that his entire journey was simply an effort to get back the sense of nobility and comfort. Once he found those things he ceased his journeying lifestyle and settled down as a researcher and Business owner. Now he simply creates the tools and weapons some adventurers like using on their own journeys.

Combat Skills

-Expert Swordsmanship:
Sarel has learned the most minute intricacies of Drowish fighting styles from his father and the many mentors he had over the course of his childhood. Beside this, Sarel has trained and fought with some of the most brilliant swordsmen above ground. Sarel's incredible ability to recall only enhances his ability with each talented swordsman he observes.

-Quick Brew:
Sarel learned that sometimes certain concoctions can only be made on the field, during combat. Because of this he keeps multiple elements of one elixer at the ready to mix at his pleasure. This means that Sarel is always able and willing to mix something up in the heat of battle if need be.

-Bombs:
Combining chemical elements are easy for Sarel. So creating explosions upon oxidation or kinetic impact are simple trifles for him.

-Bottled Spells:
Anyone can make a flaming cocktail, but Sarel knows how to make a fireball in a bottle. With his unique understanding of energy, plants, and animals Sarel can recreate the effects of many different kinds of spells with which he is familiar. These elixirs take much longer to concoct than an ordinary potion, however, and often come with unquantifiable side-effects.

-The Brute:
Perhaps one of Sarel's most notable potions is one of strength. He makes a great deal of profits yearly from this one product. These are distilled versions of a potion Sarel calls "The Brute". With this potion Sarel can change his physical appearance, strength, and endurance, while temporarily losing some degree of intelligence and wisdom. In the hours after the effects wear off Sarel is often temperamental, garish, and only slightly dumber.

-Excellent Tactician:
Being born the son of a King-General Sarel was taught the art of warfare, and the games a leader must play in order to win battles. With this keen logic Sarel is capable of viewing clear solutions to many of the problems he may face.

-Dark Vision:
Sarel inherited the traits of his ancestors, clear vision in near complete darkness happens to be one of those traits.

Hobbies
Medicine & Surgery
Foraging
Alchemy
Enchantment
Research
Culinary Arts (food and spirits)

Your Gear

-Plated Leather armor:
A simple set of leather armor on which the immobile areas are plated with a thin ebony.
-Bracers of Protection:
These bracers can create a protective shield several times per day when they are touched together and the wearer wills it.
-Belt of the Stone Walker:
This belt allows the wearer to pass through stone if s/he is in direct contact with the stone. In the same way, the wearer can transform his body into stone so long as s/he is in direct contact with it.
-Alchemical tools
-Essence capture calipers:
These specially made silver calipers are capable of capturing magical energy, however it may exist, for transportation. Sometimes other substances are necessary for the transportation to work.
-Jorvith 'Hral:
In Undercommon the name roughly translates to "Doctor's Tool". It is enchanted with a powerful heat barrier, which protects the sword from damage and slices through most iron like butter. It is a straight edge long sword with a simple hilt.


Your retinue

-Gerald Newcastile:
A middle aged human with glistening yellow eyes. He possesses the ability to transform himself into an ordinary wolf, as well as a werewolf.

Retirement

After purchasing a home in the city he helped both save and destroy Sarel opened up a business down the street from his quaint brownstone. It doubles as a pharmacy as well as a doctoring office. Though he has no living family he knows about, he has created a strong bond with the people of the city as he attempted to assist in rebuilding. Perhaps more important than that is his additions to the Guild of the Green Leaf, and the Arcana Imperium as a researcher and minor fellow. These guild memberships allow him a venue to publish interesting findings. He's developed quite a catalog since settling down.

[Deadnaut]

Argus

Argus Steelforge The Dwarf, Slayer of Legends

Argus Steelforge

Argus is a Dwarven Axe Master and master of heavy armor



Standing at a mighty height of 4'2, Argus is far from the most imposing of adventurers in pure height. However, all four feet and two inches of him are covered in thick, corded muscle. Argus is one of the most physically strong people you are likely to encounter, and this shows in his impressive girth. Flowing out from underneath his helmet is a long, red beard, Argus's pride and joy. To match this beard, his entire suit of armor is painted red. His skin is covered in scars and far more tan than the average dwarf's from a life spent, mostly, out in the sun. His dark brown eyes reflect years of combat, years of war.

Actual Age: Argus is 55, though young and proud
Race: Dwarf
Gender: Male

Rise to Power: Legends tell of Clan Steelforge's great rite of passage, wherein those who have come of age are sent out into the world with minimal training and terrible equipment (Argus himself still questions this) and are ordered to return when they have forged a legacy they are willing to live on. On a snowy day in the mountains, Argus's time came and he descended to the world that waited outside the mountains to forge his legacy. Once down there, he did what most youths of clan Steelforge did and signed up with a local mercenary outfit, looking to earn his glory through combat. This chapter of Argus's life lasted 4 long years, 4 years of fighting wars for the highest bidder, but for Argus, these 4 years were nothing but pure training.

After leaving the mercenaries behind, he resolved to pursue his true goal, to forge a legend that not only he could live on, but all who came after him. To do this, he would slay the dragon Ahmen'tep, the menace of the Steelforge clan. To this end, Argus spent a further 10 years training, pursuing work and gathering equipment from the most unlikely of places. From the great axe Blackfang, retrieved from the tomb of a fallen king, to the armor he still wears today, the Stone Armor of the Allfather. Over this time, Argus got up to what he likes to call some..side projects. He slew a demon whose name he cannot remember to this day, brought peace to a land embattled by the very ground upon which it stood, and became known as the ale drinking champion of the world. Amongst all of this, Argus also trained amongst the greatest smiths he could find, determined to forge his own legacy as literally as possible, just as he was told to do.

And so, with 14 years of training and combat behind him, and the equipment to match, Argus set off to the lair of Ahmen'tep. The fight to get there was brutal, slaying the dragon's spawn and those who worshiped it as god. Amongst these cultists, Argus found even his own father, corrupted by the sheer power of the dragon. In the end, Argus was forced to strike his father down, and was made painfully aware of his own strength by the slaying of the man who had once held Argus up with one hand. Continuing on, vowing vengeance on the beast that had twisted his father so, Argus arrived in the depths of the beast's lair. The battle was fierce, and Argus nearly met his fate at the hands of a blast of pure flame, saved only by his stone armor. In the end, Argus claimed victory, offering thanks and praise to his patron god, the god of Victory. With this, Argus used the money he'd saved up to contract some humans to help him strip the dragon bare of his scales and bones. From these bones, Argus forged an axe to replace Blackfang, which had broken in the battle. Dubbed the Axe of the Dragonslayer, it was then enchanted by a master Arcanist, who owed Argus a few favors. Just as Argus vowed never to forget the battle, so to would he never lose the axe, enchanted to return to its owner from wherever it may wander. Since, Argus's legend has only grown as he stayed active until retirement, protecting Clan Steelforge and the local kingdom from trouble whenever it rose, be it undead, dragons or something as trivial as invasion. However, at age 45, he finally settled down in his home, able to make a fantastic living off his legacy. He took a wife and now has a 6 year old son, Sugra.

Combat Skills, including any signature attacks:
Heavy Armor Mastery - Argus has never worn armor of any form that could not be described as "heavy". Even when encumbered by massive armor, created of the heaviest steel imaginable, Argus can move perfectly fine, and fight with it as though it were nothing.

Axe Mastery - Argus has used a two-handed Greataxe since he first began his career as an adventurer. As such, with two handed axes, he is a master beyond all compare. He can make the axe dance, weaving around, and often breaking right through, blocks as though it were a Rapier given the strength of a hammer. He can cleave through men in great steel and still kill the man to their right, such is his strength and skills with axes. So well does he understand the axe, he can even use it as a throwing weapon so long as he winds up properly, which works well with the enchantment on his axe.

Bar-room brawler - Argus is an alcoholic, and a chronic one at that, and has seen his fair share of brawls. As such, he can fight with his body almost as well as with an axe. His heavy punches and kicks can break a man's ribs with the first blow, so while he hasn't perfected the art of the fast fistfight, he has perfected the art of the heavy fistfight

Dwarven Toughness - Argus is capable of feats of completely insane endurance, often chalking up these feats to "Dwarven Toughness" or "Force of will" That said, it still baffles those he knows, as Argus can wade through things that would kill most men and come out the other side swinging. That said, he makes great use of this in combat, wading through whatever the enemy rains down so he can answer with a heavy strike of his own.

Almighty Cleave - A talent Argus has perfected over the years, this is the technique Argus used to slay Ahmen'tep. Putting his full strength into a heavy cleave, Argus sets himself up and fires off a mighty blow. None who have stood within it's reach, even those merely hit by the shaft of the axe, have survived the blow to this day, so it remains best to heed the usually fairly spry (for a heavy) dwarf's signs of "Charging" the attack and get away.

Hobbies: Argus is an avid hunter, master smith, and an alcoholic without peer
Your Gear
Stone Armor of the Allfather: This armor of Granite is rumored to have been forged by a god from the rock of the Earth. Regardless of who actually made it, it is the most protective armor encountered by Argus. Many things can slice through normal steel, but nothing has yet sliced through the enchanted granite of the armor. The armor is painted red, in honor of his beard, and gives off a faint red flow from its enchantments. The enchantments reduce the weight of the normally multiple ton armor to something more akin to conventional heavy armor, and make the already rock solid (pun intended) granite even hardier, to the point where many physical attacks wont even faze the wearer.

Axe of the Dragonslayer: An axe forged from the bones of Ahmen'tep by Argus himself, the Axe of the Dragonslayer is a large Greataxe, bone-white in color. It too glows with a faint red light, a product of its enchantment which allows it to boomerang back to Argus whenever he calls upon it. The axe is incredibly sharp and, when combined with its weight, this allows it to break through almost any guard and cut right through any armor, though he hasn't ever tested it on his own armor for fear of one or the other breaking.

Your retinue, Argus brings a few apprentices along with him, though with varying degrees of reluctance. There is Griffin, a lazy lay-about who seeks to become an adventurer as he was left with no other option. Simmins, a highly intelligent warrior who is always eager to earn Argus's praise. Dohnut, a man on the run from his home after being banished for unknown reasons, he shows a high aptitude for combat but is very reluctant to actually do it. Finally is Loohpez, a golem who speaks no language that Argus or any of the others can understand, though mysteriously Argus alone is able to understand him when the information is of actual import. They say Argus himself forged it, though he has no recollection of this.

Retirement: In the aftermath of his adventuring career, Argus went back to clan Steelforge. So great was his legacy that he was able to retire off it. Since then he has become a village training instructor, teaching the children the art of combat so that they can one day carry out their own rite of passage without it taking as long as his own.

Your family. Argus has a wife, Moira, and two sons, Sugra and Bjorn, with Bjorn being newborn.

Argus hates the color blue with an intense passion for some reason, and just as enthusiastically adores the color red.

[Hunter of Dreams]

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[Dead Cruiser]

Volkimir Sturmkirk

Dark Prince of the Shadowlands

Volkimir Sturmkirk

Vampire Eldritch Knight



A tallish man with the well-balanced build of an experienced warrior, Volkimir Sturmkirk is a striking figure to behold. His features are sharp and angular, balanced by his masculine brow and strong jawline. His eyes are the most distinctive feature of his face; their black sclera and golden, luminous irises are distinctly inhuman, and Volkimir's gaze is piercing and predatory. Sharp, white fangs are revealed whenever he smiles or speaks, and his incisor teeth seem unnaturally sharp and jagged. His hair hangs to the top of his shoulderblades, and is so fair that in most lighting it seems completely white. Volkimir's skin, while usually so pale as to seem translucent, takes on a sickly, ashen hue when exposed to sunlight, stripping away his last disguise of humanity.

While his adornments vary depending upon his company and preoccupation, Volkimir's prefered attire strikes a balance between the practicality of adventuring clothes, the mystique of a dark magician and the regality of a noble knight. A floor-length, ornate leather coat is worn over a enameled, ruby-encrusted breastplate. Engraved armor plates are set into the shoulders and forearms of the coat, the shins of his black, woolen trousers, and the toes of his thick-soled leather boots. His distinctive coat is apparently filled with numerous hidden pockets and compartments, and can deploy a hood to shield him from daylight.

Actual Age
While Volkimir appears no older than his late twenties, he is in fact well into his seventh century.

Race
Volkimir is a Vampire, though he was originally a mere Human.

Gender
Volkimir is male; his transformation has not changed that much.

Rise to Power
Legends and myths surrounding the Dark Prince of Schattenwald stretch back several centuries, and vary greatly depending on the region and time period. However, certain facets of the story seem ubiquitous enough to be accepted as truth. Generations ago, the thick forests and jagged mountains of Schattenwald (known by most outsiders as the Shadowlands) were not as dark and profane a place as they are today. The nobility of the land, the high house of Sturmkirk, was well-respected by their courtly peers, and had yet to glimpse the forsaken reputation that they now carry. The tale begins with a famine blighting the fields and forests of Schattenwald; farms became barren lakes of dust, and trees withered to blackened husks. Common folk starved in droves, driving many into despair and madness. The ruling Prince of House Sturmkirk went to great lengths to save his dying people, each more desperate and esoteric than the last. Prayer to the region's guardian angels, invigorating wizardry, and even ritual sacrifice did not turn the tide of death from his lands. As his own wife and sons succumbed to starvation, it is said that the Prince went mad with grief, and sought to cure the famine once and for all by consorting with a demon.

The demon (the specific identity of which greatly debated) was summoned with an offering of mortal blood, but found such a sacrifice to be unworthy of the task requested of him. To save the starving peoples of Schattenwald, he would require the blood of an angel. With a deceptive prayer for help, the Prince lured one of the region's few remaining angels (believed with more confidence to have been known as Marycz) to the dungeons beneath his ancestral manor. There, he trapped her with dark magic, and exsanguinated her. Offering the angel's silvery blood to his demonic patron, the Prince and his noble subjects were cursed by the demon with Vampirism. They would not starve, but only as long as they fed on one another. Even so, the curse carried the unexpected boon of immortality, and so the Dark Prince still lives to this day. Some will say that the Prince feared death, and sought immortality from the beginning. Others claim that the demon was responsible for the famine that began this unfortunate chain of events. Regardless, the fall of House Sturmkirk was seen as the beginning of Schattenwald's descent into darkness, and the original sin for which the Shadowlands are cursed.

The vampire Volkimir Sturmkirk is more an ill omen than a man. This mysterious figure has plumbed ancient depths and sought after forgotten powers, and as such his prowess in battle and might of magic are both formidable. He wanders the world, searching endlessly for distraction and diversion in progressively debase and debaucherous pleasures. Though he refers to himself as "Prince," and carries the forsaken Sturmkirk name, none can say for sure if he is the same Dark Prince of legend, as evidence exists suggesting that he both is and is not. In any case, over his centuries of travel, Volkimir has taken hold of the fate of nations and peoples on several occasions, either saving them from destruction, or damning them to obliteration. Whether this is done as a part of a strange agenda, or merely for his own entertainment, none can say for sure.

Reputations of the Dark Prince vary wildly, as his capricious nature has made him a bane or a boon to many different regions and cultures. Remarkable is his near-universal revilement by other Vampires, who refer to him with the epithet of "Mortifier." In a time past, the Vampire nobles of Schattenwald sought to expand their claim, and drove their undead legions into neighboring regions in pursuit of riches and conquest. While their power was great and the threat posed by them seemed grave, Volkimir stood against their onslaught. With expansive traps of wizardry and unholy alliances with angels and demons alike, Volkimir turned back the zombie hordes of Schattenwald, in some cases even turning their armies against themselves. As the invasions failed, and the Vampire nobles were sent cowering back to the depths of the Shadowlands, they cursed Volkimir as a traitor to their kind, and swore bloody vengeance.

Combat Skills
Whereas most mortals are given a handful to decades at the most to practice their arts, Volkimir has had centuries to perfect his own. He is a swordsman par excellence, wielding a bastard sword with inhuman power and grace. As a Vampire, Volkimir has a number of advantages that ordinary mortals do not possess. His strength and speed, when unaugmented by magic, are both twice that of a Human. He can see in darkness just as easily as in light, and his senses are sharp enough to hear a heartbeat from across a room, or smell one's bloodscent from half a kilometer away. Volkimir can move in complete silence, if he so chooses, and can survive for a month on only a single life's worth of blood. As well, his half-living nature confers to him near-complete immunity to sickness and poison, and he is greatly resistant to cold temperatures. Naturally, Vampirism carries several disadvantages: sunlight is severely discomforting, searing his skin and inducing migraines after prolonged exposure. Silver nauseates him, and seeing his own reflection (particularly in a silver mirror) inflicts him with delirium, and silver-reflected moonlight induces temporary blindness. While he can recover from most wounds faster than a mortal, those made with living wood blacken and fester rather than heal cleanly.

Volkimir has studied and learned to wield a mostly-forgotten dark magic known as sangromancy. This school of magecraft controls and manipulates flesh, bone and blood, particularly the lattermost. As a sangromancer, Volkimir can raise undead servants, imbue himself or others with unnatural strength and vitality, sap and absorb the strength of others by draining their vital energies, induce rapid decay and entropy, create strange structures and objects from biological matter, mend wounded or blighted flesh and bone, or simply force the flesh of his enemies to turn to ash. One of the most advanced applications of this dark art is to willfully control the blood and musculature of a living creature, allowing Volkimir to turn anything that bleeds into a flesh puppet. Naturally, as a form of magecraft, sangromancy drains Volkimir physically as he uses it, but he has adopted the technique of consuming the life-force of others with his magic, thus forcing his enemies to be the fuel source of his magic.

Hobbies
Over his innumerable years of travel and hedonism, Volkimir has acquired many eclectic interests and pastimes, each with a certain level of sinful depravity. That said, he seems most fond of exploration and adventure for their own sake, and witnessing the marvels of the ancient and natural worlds. Lost ruins and forgotten cultures fascinate Volkimir, and he studies and investigates them with rapt attention. Equally so, strange creatures and wonders of natural beauty command his attention, and he has a mind to keep a menagerie of his favorite exotic species.

Gear
Volkimir's armor, while said by some to contain the damned souls of every person that he has killed, is in reality rather mundane. While it is of luxurious quality, it is simply steel, enamel and leather. More worth of rumors would be the large ruby embedded in the center of Volkimir's breastplate. Any life energies that Volkimir himself cannot contain within his own body, he stashes away in this sangromantic gemstone, saving the excess power for times of distress. In the numerous secretive compartments in Volkimir's coat he has stashed a variety of small trinkets found in his travels, miniature bottles containing potent potions and poisons, easily-concealed supplies such as blades, lockpicks and matches, several varieties of coinage and legal documentation, and small scrolls and books that he is fond of.

Almost as famous as the man himself is Volkimir's bastard sword: Elbrus, the Bound Blade. While ornate in design and flawless in construction, Elbrus is quite unusual in having been forged of thunderbolt iron, fallen from the stars. The blade is seemingly unbreakable, with an edge as sharp as winter, and so dark in color that it appears to consume light rather than reflect it. Intensely magical, the sword absorbs the life-force of those it wounds, giving Volkimir a considerable advantage in lengthy duels. However, this is not a mere enchantment; Elbrus has bound within it a powerful demon, sealed within the sword ages ago by a holy warrior that gave his own life to contain the monster. The sword has an unspeakably unholy aura to those sensitive to such matters, and the demon whispers foul promises and fouler threats to anyone weak of will that comes to wield Elbrus.

Retinue
In Volkimir's experience, it is usually best to leave entire bloodlines or nations indebted to oneself, rather than individuals. He has a particular habit of outliving most people he meets, and this practice serves him best. His personal accompaniment appears to be small, but potent. A handful of Schattenwalder Blackguard knights and their squires, a spare few Vampire Bloodwitches from the swamplands of Malakir, a hired necro-alchemist and his menagerie of specially-engineered zombies, a collection of bound geists, and an enthralled pack of werewolves from the moors of the Shadowlands. A pack of ordinary zombies performs all of the menial labor that would usually be relegated to servants, slaves or pack animals, and a new one is raised whenever one becomes too rotten or dismembered to continue its service.

Retirement
While the Dark Prince has yet to "retire," per say, he has not been sighted in more than ten years. The last known sighting of Volkimir Strumkirk placed him in the foothills of Schattenwald, slowly making his way into the hinterland. He was not alone, however, as he seemed to have been commanding a diverse host of soldiers. Banners from many lands flew over his small army, and various dark and vicious beasts stalked ahead of the host as its vanguard. Word has been silent from the cursed Shadowlands in recent years, but far fewer horrors have crept out from its unhallowed depths, and angels seem to have returned to the damnable lands.

Family
As a member of the noble House Sturmkirk, Volkimir is at least distantly related to nearly every member of the vampire nobility of Schattenwald. That said, he is universally hated by his house and their allies, due to his "betrayal" of their attempted invasion more than a hundred years past. Volkimir is reputed to be of some relation to the legendary Sturmkirk Prince that damned Schattenwald ages ago, or to be the man himself.

Miscellaneous
Though he would sooner kill someone than admit it, Volkimir has a deathly phobia of heights.

[ancient dragon]

Blood-Mane Character Sheet

Protector of Death's Peak

Blood-Mane

Mountain Troll



Blood-Mane is a giant, brutish creature, standing at nearly 60 feet tall. He has a stocky, muscular body covered in long, dirty-gray fur. He is adorned with long, sharp teeth, deep black eyes, and a large nose and ears.

Actual Age: Around 300 (Neither he nor anyone else has kept exact record.)
Race: Troll
Gender: Male

Rise to Power:

Excerpt from “The History of the Kingdom of Death's Peak”:

“Long ago, where our great kingdom now sits atop this mountain, there lived a troll. He was christened by storytellers and bards with the name Blood-Mane, and was one of the most fearsome monsters of his era. Men who fated to wander to the top of the mountain were rumored to be found the meal of this fearsome creature. It was said that no man who had ever faced him lived to tell the tales of the great beast. Many heroes and adventurers were lost to Blood-Mane on this very mountaintop, where he made his home. This is how the mountain, which should later become our land, became know as Death's Peak.

…

Pursued by the tyrannous King Oarus and his great and terrible army, the rebels, who were to become the founders of our great kingdom, found themselves surrounded and insurmountably outnumbered, forced into retreat up the same mountain which the legend of Blood-Mane lived. As was the story of all men who made the trek up the mountain of the beast, the band of rebels was swiftly captured and overpowered by Blood-Mane, dragged into his cave, and crudely bound. However, unlike the other stories of old, be it out of mercy, curiosity, or a full stomach, the great Blood-Mane heard the pleas of the rebels and the tales of their flee from the destruction caused by the terrible King Oarus.

For whatever reason, the beast agreed to protect the rebels, and in his mercy allowed the band to flee farther up the mountain. Soon thereafter, the grand army of the tyrannous king arrived on the peak, hearts set to destroy the rebel outfit. They did not expect to meet a beast of legend.

The battle that followed was massive, and one worthy of song of heroism on both sides. Even the giant and feared Blood-Mane was met with challenge, and the armies of King Oarus nearly destroyed him. It is lost to legend, but it is said that the valiant efforts of such a brute creature, and the worthy goals of the rebel's cause, were looked upon favorably by those who grant magic and greatness, and a power, unlike any other given to his kind, was bestowed upon Blood-Mane. The beast defeated the terrible army in a fury so grand, it is said that the ground shook three kingdoms away.

From that day forth, Blood-Mane became the protector of the rebels, and eventually the kingdom of Death's Peak which they founded. No forces were able to stand against the troll's powerful and otherworldly might. In this, the kingdom remained in safety, even in times when the land laid in great turmoil elsewhere. It is credited, in song and lore, that the wonderful creature Blood-Mane was the bearer of the prosperity that has since settled in abundance on this kingdom.

…

For one-hundred winters, the beast known as Blood-Mane protected our kingdom, and then one-hundred more winters before the writing of this book, he vanished. Some say he was slain by a new and powerful hero. Others say he is not more than a creature of stories and legend. But it is believed by most of those who dwell in Death's Peak, that Blood-Mane, upon seeing the prosperity of the kingdom, took it upon himself to retire into the desolate mountains of the north.

Many still remember the great Blood-Mane as a monster. But to the people of Death's Peak, we will forever remember him for what he was. A hero.”

(End of excerpt)

Combat Skills:

Brute Strength: Blood-Mane channels a (rumored magical) level of strength in battle.

Tough Skin: It is much harder to injure him, though he can be cut and he does bleed.

Hobbies:

Hunting
Fishing
Basket-Weaving

Your Gear:

In short, nothing. Blood-Mane does not usually use weapons aside from the occasional fallen tree or boulder. He also has a thick coat of fur and does not need warm clothes.

It is rumored that he still wears an amulet, under his fur, that was given to him by the people of Death's Peak for his service.

Your retinue:

Blood-Mane travels alone.

Retirement:

Seriously, basket-weaving. No one is quite sure how it is done with such big hands, but he is truly one of the best. What else does a troll do with his retirement. With over one-hundred years in relative solitude, Blood-Mane has quietly refined his craft. Chances are, if you have purchased a fine basket in the past century, it may have been shipped from the far northern peaks, crafted by a rather large artisan.

Your family:

No family to speak of. Blood-Mane has spent the past century in peaceful isolation.

[RyanTadashi]

Eros Zolomon Character Sheet

The Noble Marksman

Lord Eros Zolomon

Arcane Archer

Eros Zolomon's muscular body stands just under six feet tall, cutting a heroic figure. He is good looking with a strong jawline and masculine features. Eros keeps his silken brown hair and sharp goatee neatly cut, cropped and coifed. He is naturally fair skinned but tanned from extensive adventuring.

Actual Age: Fifty Four
Race: Human
Gender: Male

Rise to Power
Eros Zolomon was born as the third son of the well-off nobleman, Artemis Zolomon. Though third in his house's line of succession – after his brothers Teucer and Paris – Eros was raised like any noble firstborn. All three were trained by their weapon master and uncle, Orion Zolomon. Though all three were more-than-capable with everything they tried their hands at, it was only Eros that truly excelled at a specific weapon: the longbow.

When – as all ambitious houses do – the Zolomon house squabbled with another noble family, Teucer was given command of the vanguard, Paris was positioned at front of the main force next to his father, and Eros was simply placed in command of a small squadron of bowmen. From hundred of yards behind the van, Eros could only watch the cavalry charges and rains of arrows break against the dense phalanx formation opposite them. Teucer was overwhelmed, and both Artemis and Paris were being sorely outmaneuvered.

Straining his eyes, Eros scanned for his enemy's leader. A violet film spread across his vision, and he was instantly able to see the opposing forces as if they were a stone's throw away. One specific knight in obscenely gold armor stuck out to the archer. As soon as he focused on what was surely the rival lord, Eros saw a dark purple glow outline the golden armor. He looked down at his arrow, willing it – almost communicating to it – to hit his target. Without actually understanding what he was doing, Eros let fly, his enhanced vision watching the now-glowing shaft soar through the air, the projectile coming to a final rest behind the pauldron but under the helm. As the lord fell from his horse, dead, his army was routed, and a legend was born.

With his newly acquired powers and the foundations of a famed reputation to build upon, Eros Zolomon left his home with his brother Paris to make his name in the world away from the shadow of the soon-to-be Lord Teucer Zolomon. Together they ended the tyrannical rules of monsters all across the land – from drakes to demons to an entire pack of dire wolves – and gathered a sizable following. The growing army waged war successfully time and time again. It was only when the two attempted to stop the spread of a rapidly-growing tribe of women warriors that disaster struck. The tribe's leader was an archer of great renown, known to have eliminated every male ruler in the tribe's surrounding area from astounding distances. The stories of the warrior queen's exploits ominously mirrored those of Eros himself.

The two brothers Zolomon and their followers slowly cut a path deep into the tribe's lands, slaughtering the savage women under storms of arrows. Their campaign was going perfectly, for they had taken every precaution against their enemy marksman. Despite their conservative plan of attack; however, the adventurers were ambushed, caught completely unaware by the warrior queen who was much more familiar with the region. In the battle, Eros was able to bring down the savage woman, but not before one of her arrows found the heart of Paris. Distraught, Eros took up the warrior queen's enchanted bow and unleashed his fury on any sort of evil he could find. Ogres, orcs and goblins fell by the scores to Eros and his new enchanted bow.

After Eros put an arrow through the one eye of the ogre chieftain Lurzg, he received word that his older brother had passed. He knew that it was time for him to end his rampage and return to his home. As the new Lord Zolomon, Eros grew to be a loved and respected leader of his house.

Combat Skills
Eros is not an assassin; assassins are murderers that hide their identities in shadows and obscurity. Eros is a marksman, a noble and skillful killer. He is an exceptional archer, and this skill is only accentuated by his arcane abilities. He is able to enhance his vision with far sight and mark a target for death. Once marked, Eros's victims will not avoid the imminent impact. Eros doesn't miss; as he wills his arrows to travel true to his marked target, the arcane archer will always hit his target.

He also prepares meticulously for his battles, enhancing each arrowhead with a special paralysis that reverses the blood flow of the victim, killing them in under a minute. Alternatively, Eros can conjure an explosive material to coat his arrowheads. Upon impact, these special arrows erupt with a flaming, corrosive spray.

Eros is more than competent with a variety of blades, ranging from daggers to rapiers to bastard swords. On the rare occasion Eros is forced into close combat, he can enhance his blades the same way he does with his arrowheads.

In addition to his own martial prowess, Eros is a gifted military tactician. His strategies have never been bested on the battlefield.

Hobbies
Carving/Fletching – Eros's exceptional dexterity lends itself to his favorite hobby: the manipulation of wood. From art to arrows, the Noble Marksman loves to see what he can give life to from shapeless timber.

Hunting – Eros can bring down all types of game but prefers the challenge afforded by fowl.

Games of Strategy – Eros is a quick learner and intensely competitive when it comes to contests of the mind.

Your Gear
Silver Arcus – the warrior queen's longbow, one crafted out of an enchanted yew tree and sturdy dragon bone. Because of the magical nature of the bow's components, it can handle arrows with powerful enhancements – whether magical or mundane. Silver Arcus is also shockingly easy to string and draw for any worthy enough to be called its owner; however, none other than Eros and the original warrior queen herself have been able to hold that distinction.

Enchanted Quiver – a quiver enchanted that, every morning, Eros finds two hundred arrows regardless of whether it was empty or even contained more than fourty-seven arrows the night before. The nature of the arrows is the same as that of whichever type of arrow is most abundant the night before.

Zolomon Noble Robes – House Zolomon's colors are purple and black. The lord's robes are made of the finest silks with leather expertly sewn in to provide protection in strategic places. They are multilayered, one layer tighter with leather inserts, the other one much looser, flowing regally with a long cape and hood. The mundane defenses of these robes are magnified by a variety of arcane spells, cast by Eros every morning. These armor enhancements provide fortification against everything from blades and arrows to magical fireballs and curses.

Your Retinue
- [Three Score] House Zolomon Soldiers

- [One Dozen] House Zolomon Lord's Guard (Ranged Specialists)

Retirement
Though quieter than his years of adventuring with his brother, Eros Zolomon's retirement has not been completely uneventful. He has always been a soldier at heart, so none would ever accuse House Zolomon of shying away from conflict under the arcane archer's rule. Eros has surely taken a step back from his travel, so the only bit of excitement he is able to experience is that of an ordinary soldier of his house. Always slightly uncomfortable with his legendary reputation and the stigmas of being seen as a living myth, Eros only truly feels comfortable when he is attempting to blend in with the other warriors. Disputing with rivals over land, defense planning, drinking with his men, and enjoying his family constitute a happy lifestyle for Lord Zolomon.

Your family
Eros Zolomon married a pretty but mainly nondescript girl he had known as a youth. After traveling the world and seeing fantastical women of every race, Eros was happy to settle down with somebody who could instill a bit of normalcy to his life. Together they have a young daughter and an adolescent boy, both of which dream of becoming adventurers like their paternal hero. A loving and supportive father, Eros is happy to humor them, instructing them in all of the lessens and skills he has learned during his lifetime.

Any extreme Personality quirks, habits, or maybe just their favorite foods
OCD – Eros is extremely disciplined, always making sure that every provision is accounted for. He takes preparation to a level of obsession and compulsion.

Man of the Commonfolk – Despite his great success in life, Eros remains very humble. Instead of spending any of his acquired riches on himself, he prefers to share them – along with his time and affection – with his cherished ones, especially his sworn men, soldiers that would surely give their lives for him – despite the fact that he would rather be seen as simply another soldier.

Social Drinking – Eros is a fan of the drink, but more for the revelry with friends than for the alcohol itself. He loves making memories, and a good stout can be a great assistant to that.