[hider=Baldur Von Belger]
[img]https://animereviewing.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/sword-of-the-stranger-i.jpg[/img]
[img]http://www.animeclick.it/images/Anime_big/Stranger-MukouHadan/Stranger-MukouHadan4.jpg[/img]

[h3][color=Crimson]"No need to hold back. You are fighting a dead man."[/color][/h3]

Name: Baldur Von Belger

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Age: 34

Appearance: Standing at over six feet tall and weighing 83 kilograms of muscle, Baldur is an imposing figure indeed, in both stature and features. His face, when not obscured, looks as though it were carved from rock, with skin just as rough-looking. His sharp eyes are a piercing blue, and his hair a sandy blonde, with sideburns, thick eyebrows, and a light beard. His attire is a light set of hide armor, concealed with a wide-brimmed hat and a blood-red cloak. At his waist is kept a large dao broadsword.

Background: Baldur was born on a battlefield: the blasted ruins of a conquered kingdom, far from Regnum Magnopere. From the time his small arms could lift a sizeable rock, he had been forced to fight for his life. He had to fight off the marauders who took the lives of his parents, he had to fight off bandits and beasts to keep what little he had, he had to battle street gangs and thugs in petty wars of tribal loyalty. Rage and hatred burned through his veins with every wound and scar, and so too came strength. Quickly, he learned to turn this strength into profit, serving criminal and noble alike as a claimer of bounties and a hired thug. He thought little of the bones he broke, or the flesh he tore. He had interest in his own life, his own survival, and thought of nothing more.

	This changed one fateful night, however, when he journeyed to take the head of a wanted man: a master swordsman. When the two clashed, Baldur found the strength he took such pride in worthless. The swordsman danced between his blows and struck with a swiftness he had never seen. Though never cutting deep, the swordsman defeated him utterly and disappeared into the night, sparing Baldur's life. Though Baldur seethed with anger and rage at being defeated, something welled up within him he had not felt his whole life. A desire, a dream...a goal: defeat the swordsman. And he would chase that dream across nations, hunting for every rumor, every scrap of information he could find to locate the warrior who bested him. Many times, the two would cross paths and clash again, and every time, Baldur was struck down and spared. One day, however, at the end of another sound thrashing, the swordsman spoke to him, questioning his perseverance in the face of endless defeat. Baldur merely spat, proclaiming his dream of seeing the swordsman beaten at his feet. There was silence between them for some time, before the swordsman offered to teach him to wield a blade, so that he might see his dream come true.

	Though for many years he traveled and learned much under the swordsman, the one thing he never learned was his name, as the warrior claimed not to have one. This meant little to Baldur, as his knowledge of battle was all he really wanted. He learned swiftly, showing great talent, and over the years of travel earned a reputation as a formidable duelist. He learned other things from the nameless swordsman as well: how to read, how to write, how to properly present himself...but perhaps the greatest thing he learned from him was Honor. For all his life, battle to him was merely a part of living as simple and detached as breathing. With swordsmanship, it was different. There was an art to it....a talent. Where he had once felt nothing for his opponents, he now felt a respect, a faint comraderie among warriors....there was a thrill to the fight, a rush, a [i]purpose.[/i] Baldur grew to love fighting in a way a poet loves wordplay, an artist...with war as his canvas.

	When the day came that Baldur chose to cross swords with his mentor again, there was a pang of regret in his heart, to strike down the man who taught him so much. The battle raged from dawn until dusk. Both men, once miles apart in terms of skill, now fought on even footing. It was a dance unlike any he had danced in his life. To walk along the razor's edge of life and death so tightly was ambrosia to both men, the pinnacle of their lives.

	And then, as the moon rose, Baldur struck the killing blow, and it all came to a stop.

	There was no fanfare, no emotional moment, no heartfelt parting words from his master. He simply fell to the ground, dead. The student knelt by his corpse until the sun rose again, staring at his still, lifeless body. The many years of learning, of travel, the joys and sorrows...it all came to an abrupt end. Baldur's dream was fulfilled, and he was alone.

	The decade following, Baldur wandered from nation to nation, selling his sword arm to whatever army would take him. His time as a soldier for hire led him through countless wars, in which he cultivated a reputation as a dervish of death on the battlefield, known and feared far and wide. Desperately, he chased the thrill of a grand duel he once felt, but there was little honor to be found in these wars. Once again, battle had lost its luster. Once again, it was simply another thoughtless part of his life. During a skirmish in a worthless plot of land, Baldur was struck by an ambush, and was mortally wounded. Left lying on his back in a pool of blood, amidst an empty battlefield strewn with the dead, Baldur was content to stare up at the sky. His struggle was over, and he was ready to see his life end where it had began.

	Fate, it seemed, had a different plan for him. For at that moment, a peculiar creature came floating by.

	A squid, swimming through air as though it were water, came within reach, staring at Baldur with bulbous eyes. As if by some peculiar whim, Baldur reached out with a lacerated arm and touched it. Suddenly, the squid vanished, and a pain shot through his arm, followed by his entire body. For hours he writhed on that lonely battlefield, before the pain began to dull. He watched himself with awe and horror as cuts knit themselves shut, and bones realligned. His body was repairing itself, and in his mind, he could hear a faint whisper, as wispy yet forceful as the wind.

	[i]"The Tower, The Tower, We Must Go To The Tower"[/i]

	Baldur, given another chance at life when the world thought him dead, began to wander, the words in his mind repeating themselves now and again, like a mantra. Feeling a sense of gratitude and renewed purpose, Baldur chose to seek this "Tower." A search which has brought him to the legendary city, and the Tower of Babel.....

Personality: Baldur is typically a rather quiet man, unused to the prospect of adventuring with others. He will often not speak his mind on a topic unless asked of it, preferring to let his actions speak for him. When he does speak, however, he is often wistful and poetic, even when the situation doesn't really call for it. Baldur has an unshakeable sense of honor and a personal code of ethics. He has little respect for cowards, and those who let fear rule over them, and will often express his disdain for them openly or mock them. To his foes in combat, however, he's quite respectful. He never holds back in a fight, but will often give single opponents respite, or aid, to make the fight as even and fair as possible. Battle is the only thing he feels gives him purpose, and he lusts for it at every opportunity, dreaming of another honorable duel with a warrior who is his equal.

Soul Partner: ???

Skills:
-Master Swordsmanship
-Great Strength
-Toughness

NOTE: Heavy internal damage within his body currently hinders his ability to fight.

License: Given by Church of the Lord - Front Liner
[/hider]

[hider=???]
[img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/923473e0870e8278da344e86fec709d0/tumblr_n1yu8dLAt51sg4n4po1_500.jpg[/img]
[h3][color=DarkSlateBlue]"The Tower, The Tower, We Must Go To The Tower."[/color][/h3]

Name: ???

Species: Beast, Squid

Appearance: A small, pitch black squid, moving through the air as though it were the sea.

How You Two Met: Saved Baldur's life by bonding with him as he lay dying on a battlefield. Now urges him to the Tower of Babel with the only words it ever speaks.

Level One Transformations:
Animal/Humanoid Form: A squid.

Material Form: A small, black, wickedly curved dagger.

User Form:
Fusing with Baldur gives him slow-acting regenerative abilities. This is the form it is in the most, as the regeneration ability it provides is what keeps Baldur from succumbing to his mortal internal wounds and dying. [/hider]

[@MacDuffy]