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    1. redrout 9 yrs ago
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Yeah me too.
sucks. I really liked it
(No picture for now, can't find one that fits.)
"One man’s magic is another man’s engineering."
Name:Althor Alias(s):Firefur (earned the nickname after an awful experiment that had him racing, on fire, to a courtyard fountain through a crowded street.) Age:Appears to be in his mid twenties. Height:6’8” Weight: 315lb Hair Color:Black Eye Color:Blue Race:Thickly built beast-like creature. (Imagine beast from x-men with black fur) Job Role:F.I.E.L.D researcher, application-oriented engineer. Physical Appearance: (Write a description of your Character) Attire:Wears loose-fitting black trousers and a cream-colored long sleeved shirt (usually stained with some sort of grease). He carries a staff with a clear crystal at it’s head and a small backpack with necessities. Also carries a pipe and tobacco. Personality:Althor has spent most of his life in engineering workshops, and was recruited to F.I.E.L.D one year after the outbreak. He is knowledgable about most subjects, magic and engineering being his specialties. He lacks some social skills, though he tries to get along with those he meets. In the context of new people he can be quite shy, as he is not sure what to say, but once he gets to know someone, he becomes more affable. He doesn’t care for his appearance mostly, which leaves him in various states of disorder, most often marked by disheveled fur and a perennially grease-stained shirt. Weapons & Equipment:Blast knuckles: High-voltage electricity can be channeled through his gloves through two prongs on his knuckles, able to stun most things, giving him valuable time to distance himself from it. Staff: an intricate brass staff with designs etched in different colors, one for each different ability of the staff. Belt: his belt contains tools of almost every kind imaginable from screwdrivers to a personal spot welder that he can place on the end of his blast knuckles. Ability:Though he is a passable close-quarters fighter, he appears to be much more able than he is due to his size. This has gotten him into trouble before. He prefers to channel energy through his staff to either protect his allies or destroy his enemies. His staff has four overlaying designs which govern the attributes of it’s use. They are: Fire: He can create a wall of fire, and throw fireballs at his enemies. Electricity: The staff’s crystal can emit bolts of lightning that can stun or kill. Shield: He can erect a shield around up to two allies or himself which absorb two strikes each, independent of force. This is sometimes a drawback as a thrown pebble can deplete one of the layers of the shield just as easily as a strike from a warhammer. Telekinesis: He has the ability to channel his thoughts into the staff and move objects with his thoughts. He cannot throw objects more than 75lbs. He cannot lift objects over 300lbs. Whistling: He’s an exceptional whistler. Brief History: Althor was raised by dwarf parents in a more upscale part of the 1x1 section. They never mentioned that he wasn't actually their offspring, and he never asked. They ran a weapons shop that forged custom pieces for some of the more picky individuals there. Olvar, his dwarf father, taught him the ways of the anvil and hammer, and that of dwarven engineering. He took well to the lessons, and began to make his own creations, attempting to merge the magic energies of the universe and the dwarven machines, attempting to understand how they worked. His father was already well on in years when Althor was a young boy, and when he was nineteen, his father died of old age, followed shortly by his mother. He mourned in the customary way of the dwarves and laid them to rest with their ancestors in stone. Their shop and house felt empty in the years following, so he sold it to an enterprising mage just before the outbreak. After the chaos of the outbreak subsided and the survivors began to organize, he felt the need to help the people around him; so he returned to the shop he had left years ago. The mage that he had sold the shop to was no where to be found, but he had left his tomes and staff there. He learned later that the magician was a victim of the virus. Althor began to study the tomes and while he had not the innate skill to master magic, he managed to convert the mage’s staff to be powered by a rare crystal of power. He has continued this research in his spare time now that he has been recruited by F.I.E.L.D. Relationships: Althor is respected in the community, but most give him generous space, since he is not very outgoing and also due to the accidents that have occured as a result of his studies. When he joined F.I.E.L.D., however, he was forced to have much more interaction with people than he was used to, and he’s still finding out how to act in social situations. This makes some of his relationships unnecessarily strained. He admires mages for their abilities, though it borders on envy at times.
(No picture for now, can't find one that fits.)
"One man’s magic is another man’s engineering."
Name:Althor Alias(s):Firefur (earned the nickname after an awful experiment that had him racing, on fire, to a courtyard fountain through a crowded street.) Age:Appears to be in his mid twenties. Height:6’8” Weight: 315lb Hair Color:Black Eye Color:Blue Race:Thickly built beast-like creature. (Imagine beast from x-men with black fur) Job Role:F.I.E.L.D researcher, application-oriented engineer. Physical Appearance: (Write a description of your Character) Attire:Wears loose-fitting black trousers and a cream-colored long sleeved shirt (usually stained with some sort of grease). He carries a staff with a clear crystal at it’s head and a small backpack with necessities. Also carries a pipe and tobacco. Personality:Althor has spent most of his life in engineering workshops, and was recruited to F.I.E.L.D one year after the outbreak. He is knowledgable about most subjects, magic and engineering being his specialties. He lacks some social skills, though he tries to get along with those he meets. In the context of new people he can be quite shy, as he is not sure what to say, but once he gets to know someone, he becomes more affable. He doesn’t care for his appearance mostly, which leaves him in various states of disorder, most often marked by disheveled fur and a perennially grease-stained shirt. Weapons & Equipment:Blast knuckles: High-voltage electricity can be channeled through his gloves through two prongs on his knuckles, able to stun most things, giving him valuable time to distance himself from it. Staff: an intricate brass staff with designs etched in different colors, one for each different ability of the staff. Belt: his belt contains tools of almost every kind imaginable from screwdrivers to a personal spot welder that he can place on the end of his blast knuckles. Ability:Though he is a passable close-quarters fighter, he appears to be much more able than he is due to his size. This has gotten him into trouble before. He prefers to channel energy through his staff to either protect his allies or destroy his enemies. His staff has four overlaying designs which govern the attributes of it’s use. They are: Fire: He can create a wall of fire, and throw fireballs at his enemies. Electricity: The staff’s crystal can emit bolts of lightning that can stun or kill. Shield: He can erect a shield around up to two allies or himself which absorb two strikes each, independent of force. This is sometimes a drawback as a thrown pebble can deplete one of the layers of the shield just as easily as a strike from a warhammer. Telekinesis: He has the ability to channel his thoughts into the staff and move objects with his thoughts. He cannot throw objects more than 75lbs. He cannot lift objects over 300lbs. Whistling: He’s an exceptional whistler. Brief History: Althor was raised by dwarf parents in a more upscale part of the 1x1 section. They never mentioned that he wasn't actually their offspring, and he never asked. They ran a weapons shop that forged custom pieces for some of the more picky individuals there. Olvar, his dwarf father, taught him the ways of the anvil and hammer, and that of dwarven engineering. He took well to the lessons, and began to make his own creations, attempting to merge the magic energies of the universe and the dwarven machines, attempting to understand how they worked. His father was already well on in years when Althor was a young boy, and when he was nineteen, his father died of old age, followed shortly by his mother. He mourned in the customary way of the dwarves and laid them to rest with their ancestors in stone. Their shop and house felt empty in the years following, so he sold it to an enterprising mage just before the outbreak. After the chaos of the outbreak subsided and the survivors began to organize, he felt the need to help the people around him; so he returned to the shop he had left years ago. The mage that he had sold the shop to was no where to be found, but he had left his tomes and staff there. He learned later that the magician was a victim of the virus. Althor began to study the tomes and while he had not the innate skill to master magic, he managed to convert the mage’s staff to be powered by a rare crystal of power. He has continued this research in his spare time now that he has been recruited by F.I.E.L.D. Relationships: Althor is respected in the community, but most give him generous space, since he is not very outgoing and also due to the accidents that have occured as a result of his studies. When he joined F.I.E.L.D., however, he was forced to have much more interaction with people than he was used to, and he’s still finding out how to act in social situations. This makes some of his relationships unnecessarily strained. He admires mages for their abilities, though it borders on envy at times.
My bad, posted in wrong stuff, will post here if it gets accepted.
Can I get in on this? Very interesting concept
Dorje pulled up to the wizard, hearing him work his magic as the beast began to slow. He stood three steps in front of the caster, closing his eyes and reaching out with his other senses. He felt the movement of the air around him, and dug his soles into the ash as he sensed the beast's rumbling slow. He tilted his head, frowning as he heard a growl coming from a burning shack fifty feet to the side, and heard another two of what he discerned as the smaller beasts from the other side. His eyes shot open and he sprinted toward the two on his left, closing the distance quickly and shouting behind him. "Cleric! Burning shack on your right! Protect the wizard!" he yelled as he ducked to slide under the first mongrel as it pounced, driving his heel up as he slid into the second one, feeling something crack as it yelped. Luckily, the one he dodged turned it's attention from the wizard, now he only hoped the healer could save the wizard as he pulled his staff in front of him again, splitting it in two, holding one in each hand in one of the more advanced stances of the great teachings, designed for fighting enemies on opposite sides of oneself. He stood, holding one piece of staff out, pointing them at the creatures as they circled, and closed hie eyes, relying on other senses as they attacked together, dodging one and using his momentum to swing a leg backwards, hooking his knee around one's neck, pinning it as he felt the other one leap for a bite.
Dorje watched as the beast shed it's skin with as much ease as taking off a shirt, and took off after the girl with alarming speed, the warrior following them both clumsily. He doubted the healer would fare well if more of the smaller beasts appeared, but being immobile was likely more wise than remaining in an assaultable position. His bo staff clicked together and he slung it over his shoulder, turning towards the healer again. "I need you two steps behind me, we will follow at a distance." He tried his best at a reassuring smile and jogged off in the direction of the fleeing monstrosity, reaching out with his senses to his surroundings as he did, so as to avoid an unwarned attack.
Dorje felt around him for the half of his staff, feeling the wood in a pile of ashes as the healer did her work. The profound itching sensation subsided as he saw the monster raise another claw to smash the shack. He sprang to his feet, grabbing the slender woman by the waist and leaping sideways, feeling the amulet burn against his skin as he threw them out of the way, skidding and tumbling along the scorched earth. Dorje used one of the tumbles he took to right himself, landing in a crouched position as the beast looked in the opposite direction of the way he jumped.
Dorje dodged the giant creature's swipe at it's own arm, which he was climbing, and got on it's back, trying to find some kind of vital point in the thick scales of it. Finding none, he tried to dismount just as the wizard threw a cloud of freezing snow at it as he jumped forward off of it's massive shoulder, into the improvized smokescreen as it reared up. Dorje felt the moving of air around him in place of his sight, and had just enough time to notice the massive clawed hand rushing toward him before it hit. He had just enough time to cushion the blow with the half bo staff he had in his left hand, but it still felt like it crushed his bones, sending him down at an angle through the roof of a smoldering house; as he landed he heard something break, and pain exploded from his leg. He struggled to calm his breathing, and eventually it returned to an even pace despite the pain. The monster, however, was still looking at him; and he had a sinking feeling he wasn't long for this world.
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