Herald

Welcome to Vradia

Post is up, made a couple of references to Gus, but tried to stay away from dictating any actions or placement.

If anything needs changing, please feel free to advise me.

Welcome to Vradia

Conn leaned against the tree, his eyes half-closed as he pretended to be snoozing. All around him, men readied themselves for the ambush, their weapons drawn and arrows nocked. They had been working up their courage for the past twenty minutes by Conn's count, a common tactic among men about to go into a fight of life and death. The bandits were right to be nervous, even if they had no real clue as to the real threat to their plan. Of course, Conn had equal reason to be nervous. If he or Gus had made a misstep and tipped their hand too early... well, they would undoubtedly be dead long before the approaching mercenary party. He just hoped Sir Dorian's friends wouldn't accidentally... or purposefully... bleed him out before he had a chance to explain the ruse.

He opened his eyes and glanced towards the sky, smiling as he saw a white eagle in flight over the nearby path. A good omen, he thought to himself.

"It is time," Conn said aloud. He rose to his feet, brushing away the dirt that had gathered on the lower part of his robes and straightening his collar. Presentation was everything when meeting new people, after all.

"Armúr Draíochta," Conn muttered as he stretched. The arcane words vibrated the air around him, gathering light and energy for a brief moment before coalescing around his body. Magical barriers shimmered into existence, anchored to his physical body and taking on the form of plated armor. Conn rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight from foot to foot. The magic was practically weightless, and while not as strong as true steel it would deflect lesser strikes away from his body. It's true advantage however, was that it did not interfere with the sometimes delicate art of shaping magic into spells. Close by, he heard the snap of bows as arrows shot into the air, arcing towards the white eagle.

The next moments were a blur all around him. When arrows failed to bring down their prey, the bandits lunged forward with sword and dagger, further causing confusion among their archers as they now had to avoid striking their own. The mercenaries had no such qualms, as they were outnumbered six or so to one and so their attacks could go wild without endangering their own side. Still, the numbers and the surprise were on the bandits side, and it seemed one of the mercs had already collapsed to an unseen issue. Conn continued to observe as more bandits dropped from the mercenary attacks, only to be replaced by another foolish thug.

"Well?," a bandit said, holding back from the fight as he noticed Conn just standing there, "c'mon, get your payday!"

Conn turned to the man and gave him a sad smile, "for what it's worth, I am sorry about this. I did enjoy sharing breakfast with you all this morning."

"'Ey? Wha-," the bandit began, the realization beginning to fill his face. The man's turned to brandish his sword against Conn, but it was already too late.

"Codlata domhain", Conn's hands darted through a series of motions, tracing arcane energy through the air. He needed to clear space around himself if he was going to try to help the mercenaries. Glittering dust filled the air as Conn spoke the arcane words, falling upon the nearest bandits and causing them to suddenly become fatigued, perhaps even falling over where they stood even as the snores of deep sleep slipped past their lips. It would be only seconds before the bandits realized they had been betrayed from within and began to target Conn as well as the mercenaries.

Conn mentally reached into the well of his own being, drawing upon the warmth that had filled his soul since his days when he called the church his home. He had changed much since those days, but his faith had not.

Gods guide my allies blades to the hearts of their enemies, and may their feet carry them from harm., he thought to himself, reciting the prayer in his mind as he connected with the divine power behind his faith. He lifted his left hand up, and soft blue light began to radiate outwards, seeking the forms of the mercenaries as well as Gus to provide them with a blessing.

Welcome to Vradia

I'm up for it if you are.

Welcome to Vradia

>.>

<.<

Hey @jasbraq

You wanna pop in on the battle as a team?

Welcome to Vradia

At work at the moment but will post when I get home in about six hours

Welcome to Vradia

Conáilte "Conn" Laoch

Conáilte "Conn" Laoch

---

Basic Information

---

Age:

27

Race:

Human

Class:

Cleric + Wizard

Weapons:

Bare handed combat and Spells

Detailed Appearance:

Coming in at just a hair under six feet in height, Conn's best, if not necessarily noticeable at times, feature is a pair of striking blue eyes framed by a light skinned face that burns rather than tans in the sun. Though he prefers to keep his attire light and airy so that he can move freely, his preference for the color blue can often lead to his clothing appearing a bit gaudy. This, combined with a well kept beard and equally un-well kept hair serve as distractions from the slight tracings of arcane symbology along the trim of his clothes. Sometimes, when his collar shifts, one can glimpse the edges of a large tattoo that takes up the majority of his torso and back, an oriental style dragon that curls around his body.

In combat, one of the first enchantments he activates is a shimmering field of mage armor, taking the shape of azure half-plate that encases his form.

Bio History:

Orphaned at an early age when his parents succumbed to a disease they could not afford to treat, Conn was accepted into the local Church as a ward. His early years were filled with seemingly endless amounts of prayer and chores, honing his body and mind towards the service of the Church. He learned to let his faith guide and empower him, his devotion earning him the gifts he needed to begin exploring the healing arts. He studied tomes of medicine and lore, learning to channel the gifts his faith bestowed upon him to tend to others in his community. For some, he was simply a friendly shoulder to cry on, for others, a mender of broken bones and soother of fevers.

As he entered his late teenage years, he felt a calling in his soul to leave his humble church and head into the desert region of Vradia. It was during this journey, as his body and mind were frayed by the heat and sands, that he would meet a man named Malachai. Malachai was a hermit of the desert, an outcast from the city of Dolg due to his open belief that the Gods had failed the people. The two nearly came to blows several times over their differing beliefs, but Conn believed the Gods had sent him to this man for a reason. After nearly three days of bartering, interspersed with the occasional religious debate, Malachai agreed to teach Conn the arcane arts in exchange for Conn's promise to use that knowledge to help the people, not just the Faith. Conn agreed.

Years passed, even harsher than his time in the Church. Yet when he finally left to return to the rest of the wide world, it was with a roughly worn book of arcane knowledge in his arms, and a faith that there was good in the world worth protecting.

Likes:

• Hearing other's stories
• Mending injuries and illness
• Nerding out over arcane secrets
• Fermented fruit drinks
• Romance Novels

Dislikes:

• Closed minded people
• Violence being the first answer to a problem
• Sunburns
• Poor organization

---

---

Skills and Abilities:

Abilities (limitations and drawbacks):

• Dispel: Conn's study of the Arcane and Religious texts provides him with a multitude of options for suppressing or dispelling arcane and divine power. This power can be used to counter spells as well as dispel magical effects.
  Drawback: Countering magic is a tricky business of either overwhelming the spell or introducing chaos into the orderly control of the spell itself. Repeated use of this power during combat becomes exhausting after three uses, and there will be magic beyond Conn's ability to counter(GM caveat).
• Spiritual Weapon: Divine energy shapes itself into a simple or martial melee weapon that Conn can control at a short range.
  Drawback: Requires as much concentration as actively fighting the opponent directly. The only real advantage is the ability to keep an opponent engaged at range.
• Calming Presence: As long as Conn's faith in himself and his companions holds, he remains a calm spot in the chaos of the world around him. Speaking with him helps dispel negative emotions such as anger or frustration, and his natural lack of fear may help steady others against terrifying foes.
  Drawback: Conn is still a regular human. How much can he burden himself with the emotional weight of others before he begins to break? (Roleplay disadvantage)

Skills:

• Arcana - The ability to discern the subtle weaves of arcane magic and determine it's purpose and structure.
• History - Many books that Conn read during his time at the Church detailed local and regional history, from ancient times to recent events.
• Persuasion - It isn't enough in life to know how to talk, one must also know how to win minds and hearts with those words. A single word can win you obedience, a dozen can win you true loyalty, and a hundred can help heal even the deepest of wounds.

---

---

Welcome to Vradia

Not gonna lie, had a harder time than usual coming up with this one, so please, feel free to give feed back or let me knwo where I should adjust things.

Conáilte "Conn" Laoch

Conáilte "Conn" Laoch

---

Basic Information

---

Age:

27

Race:

Human

Class:

Cleric + Wizard

Weapons:

Bare handed combat and Spells

Detailed Appearance:

Coming in at just a hair under six feet in height, Conn's best, if not necessarily noticeable at times, feature is a pair of striking blue eyes framed by a light skinned face that burns rather than tans in the sun. Though he prefers to keep his attire light and airy so that he can move freely, his preference for the color blue can often lead to his clothing appearing a bit gaudy. This, combined with a well kept beard and equally un-well kept hair serve as distractions from the slight tracings of arcane symbology along the trim of his clothes. Sometimes, when his collar shifts, one can glimpse the edges of a large tattoo that takes up the majority of his torso and back, an oriental style dragon that curls around his body.

In combat, one of the first enchantments he activates is a shimmering field of mage armor, taking the shape of azure half-plate that encases his form.

Bio History:

Orphaned at an early age when his parents succumbed to a disease they could not afford to treat, Conn was accepted into the local Church as a ward. His early years were filled with seemingly endless amounts of prayer and chores, honing his body and mind towards the service of the Church. He learned to let his faith guide and empower him, his devotion earning him the gifts he needed to begin exploring the healing arts. He studied tomes of medicine and lore, learning to channel the gifts his faith bestowed upon him to tend to others in his community. For some, he was simply a friendly shoulder to cry on, for others, a mender of broken bones and soother of fevers.

As he entered his late teenage years, he felt a calling in his soul to leave his humble church and head into the desert region of Vradia. It was during this journey, as his body and mind were frayed by the heat and sands, that he would meet a man named Malachai. Malachai was a hermit of the desert, an outcast from the city of Dolg due to his open belief that the Gods had failed the people. The two nearly came to blows several times over their differing beliefs, but Conn believed the Gods had sent him to this man for a reason. After nearly three days of bartering, interspersed with the occasional religious debate, Malachai agreed to teach Conn the arcane arts in exchange for Conn's promise to use that knowledge to help the people, not just the Faith. Conn agreed.

Years passed, even harsher than his time in the Church. Yet when he finally left to return to the rest of the wide world, it was with a roughly worn book of arcane knowledge in his arms, and a faith that there was good in the world worth protecting.

Likes:

• Hearing other's stories
• Mending injuries and illness
• Nerding out over arcane secrets
• Fermented fruit drinks
• Romance Novels

Dislikes:

• Closed minded people
• Violence being the first answer to a problem
• Sunburns
• Poor organization

---

---

Skills and Abilities:

Abilities (limitations and drawbacks):

• Dispel: Conn's study of the Arcane and Religious texts provides him with a multitude of options for suppressing or dispelling arcane and divine power. This power can be used to counter spells as well as dispel magical effects.
  Drawback: Countering magic is a tricky business of either overwhelming the spell or introducing chaos into the orderly control of the spell itself. Repeated use of this power during combat becomes exhausting after three uses, and there will be magic beyond Conn's ability to counter(GM caveat).
• Spiritual Weapon: Divine energy shapes itself into a simple or martial melee weapon that Conn can control at a short range.
  Drawback: Requires as much concentration as actively fighting the opponent directly. The only real advantage is the ability to keep an opponent engaged at range.
• Calming Presence: As long as Conn's faith in himself and his companions holds, he remains a calm spot in the chaos of the world around him. Speaking with him helps dispel negative emotions such as anger or frustration, and his natural lack of fear may help steady others against terrifying foes.
  Drawback: Conn is still a regular human. How much can he burden himself with the emotional weight of others before he begins to break? (Roleplay disadvantage)

Skills:

• Arcana - The ability to discern the subtle weaves of arcane magic and determine it's purpose and structure.
• History - Many books that Conn read during his time at the Church detailed local and regional history, from ancient times to recent events.
• Persuasion - It isn't enough in life to know how to talk, one must also know how to win minds and hearts with those words. A single word can win you obedience, a dozen can win you true loyalty, and a hundred can help heal even the deepest of wounds.

---

---

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani

Ported over from Interest Check.

Templar Serov "Leo" Leonidovich

Serov "Leo" Leonidovich

________________________________________ Serov "Leo" Leonidovich Male | 29 | Rodion Templar _______________________________________________ "For some people, war is war and politics is politics. For Leo, they are forms of art and he was always a skillful student." ________________________________________

"The line between arrogance and confidence is measured only by success. That just means in order to avoid being an arrogant fool I must always succeed." Appearance As pictured, except with blue eyes. His left arm bears a series of tattoos from his wrist all the way up to his shoulder of various iconography including gang markings and religious script. Additionally, a series of scars encircle his torso, leftover marks from intensive training and combat. Personality Unsurprisingly given his national origin and his nickname, Leo is a proud man that pushes himself constantly to become a better templar. He radiates a sense of calm confidence as he truly believes there is little in this world he cannot accomplish, should it be asked of him. For his companions, he is quick to offer advice, even when it is not asked for, but just as quick with a bit of humor or a well-meant compliment when he causes offense. Biography Born in Rodion as the youngest of four brothers and two sisters, Leo grew up in fierce competition not only for the attention of his family, but also their limited resources. Among the lower class, the rules of trials by combat were frequently abused by those who could simply afford to eat a little better or could afford even the most basic of weapons or armor. This meant that if Leo wanted to survive, he needed two things: allies, and an edge in the trials that would come his way. Allies were easy enough to come by if one's morality wasn't much of a barrier. Leo spent his younger teen years joined up with a local gang of thugs, extorting protection money and stealing what he couldn't afford. Leo did his best to keep the rest of his family from finding out about his illegal activity, but inevitably he would slip up and end up cast out of his own house. He still feels a pang of shame for how things turned out, but in the end he threw himself into training rather than allow the shame to fester inside of him. He trained hard and seemingly endlessly, running the back streets laden down with smuggled goods, fighting opponents that could push his skill set, and picking locks and pockets alike. Fate, or maybe just bad luck, has it's own sense of humor though. One day a back alley thug gets caught cutting the wrong purse and ends up issuing a challenge to combat to the wrong man. A retired soldier of noble birth with church connections of all things. Despite the sound beating that was then put into Leo, the older man offered Leo a choice: rise above the muck and blood he had thrown himself into, or die amongst it here and now. If Leo had known the hellish training that awaited, he might have chosen the latter. Years passed as Leo trained in weapons and eventually battlefield tactics. He learned the art of swordplay through surviving the edge of the blade that punished his missteps. He learned archery and stealth through every night he starved in the cold when he could not catch any game. He learned how to tolerate pain and not let it affect his movements, even as he learned how to inflict it if neccessary. When his patron grew too old and was challenged by younger nobles and fighters looking to claim his resources and influence for their own, it was Leo who stood in as the man's champion. When assassins came for him, it was Leo who threw their broken bodies back out into the cold. When something went missing from the man's property, it was Leo who went out and brought it back. And when his patron finally died, it was Leo that was offered up to the Church as a potential templar. His faith was tested, his body pushed to exhaustive limits, and his skills were constantly refined under the Church's watchful gaze as he was all but reborn for the third time in his short life. Weapon of Choice As a Templar of limited magical ability, Leo has devoted an obsessive amount of his time to combat. His preferred weapons are a longbow for ranged opponents and magic users, though he carries a shortsword for more close range problems. Misc. Nerds out over fighting styles and weapons from other nations Has a weakness for romance novellas, but would rather cut out his own tongue than admit it in front of his colleagues. He can also be found attending concerts and musicals that employ a large number of wind/string instruments when recreational time permits. Has a poor tolerance for spicy food, he tops out at medium-heat salsas.

REOPENED Applications! Welcome to Vradia

@WhiteAngel25 Interested. Should I fill out a char sheet and send it to you or post on teh OOC?

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani [Interest Check]

I'd be up for rolling a templar.

Update: Rolled up a templar of lightning, but honestly if any Scion wants to pair up, I'd be more than happy to oblige and adjust the sheet accordingly.

Left magical ability limited for now till we get a sense of character power levels.

Templar Serov "Leo" Leonidovich

Serov "Leo" Leonidovich

________________________________________ Serov "Leo" Leonidovich Male | 29 | Rodion Templar of Lightning _______________________________________________ "For some people, war is war and politics is politics. For Leo, they are forms of art and he was always a skillful student." ________________________________________

"The line between arrogance and confidence is measured only by success. That just means in order to avoid being an arrogant fool I must always succeed." Appearance As pictured, except with blue eyes. His left arm bears a series of tattoos from his wrist all the way up to his shoulder of various iconography including gang markings and religious script. Additionally, a series of scars encircle his torso, leftover marks from intensive training and combat. Personality Unsurprisingly given his national origin and his nickname, Leo is a proud man that pushes himself constantly to become a better templar. He radiates a sense of calm confidence as he truly believes there is little in this world he cannot accomplish, should it be asked of him. For his companions, he is quick to offer advice, even when it is not asked for, but just as quick with a bit of humor or a well-meant compliment when he causes offense. Biography Born in Rodion as the youngest of four brothers and two sisters, Leo grew up in fierce competition not only for the attention of his family, but also their limited resources. Among the lower class, the rules of trials by combat were frequently abused by those who could simply afford to eat a little better or could afford even the most basic of weapons or armor. This meant that if Leo wanted to survive, he needed two things: allies, and an edge in the trials that would come his way. Allies were easy enough to come by if one's morality wasn't much of a barrier. Leo spent his younger teen years joined up with a local gang of thugs, extorting protection money and stealing what he couldn't afford. Leo did his best to keep the rest of his family from finding out about his illegal activity, but inevitably he would slip up and end up cast out of his own house. He still feels a pang of shame for how things turned out, but in the end he threw himself into training rather than allow the shame to fester inside of him. He trained hard and seemingly endlessly, running the back streets laden down with smuggled goods, fighting opponents that could push his skill set, and picking locks and pockets alike. Fate, or maybe just bad luck, has it's own sense of humor though. One day a back alley thug gets caught cutting the wrong purse and ends up issuing a challenge to combat to the wrong man. A retired soldier of noble birth with church connections of all things. Despite the sound beating that was then put into Leo, the older man offered Leo a choice: rise above the muck and blood he had thrown himself into, or die amongst it here and now. If Leo had known the hellish training that awaited, he might have chosen the latter. Years passed as Leo trained in weapons and eventually battlefield tactics. He learned the art of swordplay through surviving the edge of the blade that punished his missteps. He learned archery and stealth through every night he starved in the cold when he could not catch any game. He learned how to tolerate pain and not let it affect his movements, even as he learned how to inflict it if neccessary. When his patron grew too old and was challenged by younger nobles and fighters looking to claim his resources and influence for their own, it was Leo who stood in as the man's champion. When assassins came for him, it was Leo who threw their broken bodies back out into the cold. When something went missing from the man's property, it was Leo who went out and brought it back. And when his patron finally died, it was Leo that was offered up to the Church as a potential templar. His faith was tested, his body pushed to exhaustive limits, and his skills were constantly refined under the Church's watchful gaze as he was all but reborn for the third time in his short life. Weapon of Choice As a Templar of limited magical ability, Leo has devoted an obsessive amount of his time to combat. His preferred weapons are a longbow for ranged opponents and magic users, though he carries a shortsword for more close range problems. Misc. Nerds out over fighting styles and weapons from other nations Has a weakness for romance novellas, but would rather cut out his own tongue than admit it in front of his colleagues. He can also be found attending concerts and musicals that employ a large number of wind/string instruments when recreational time permits. Has a poor tolerance for spicy food, he tops out at medium-heat salsas.