[hider=Renegade Gladiator] Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DNmIqqcUS3U [color=a0410d][h1][i]Ansgar Staudinger[/i][/h1] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/94/5f/3a/945f3a945ce98db19cce6594db49fa92.jpg[/img] [h2]"I fight for no man but myself now. Not a king, not a god, no one. Never again shall I be slave for the entertainment of others, let them come and try to tell me otherwise."[/h2][/color] Name: Ansgar Staudinger Age: 80 Blood%: 40% - Dragon 40% - Tyro 20% - Oro Gender: Male Sex Preference: Hetero Height: 6'1" Weight: 220lbs unarmored Physical appearance: Perhaps due to the intermingling of equal parts Tyro and Draconic blood, Ansgar's scales take on a fire red hue, matching the harshness of the off yellowish red eyes, though the left half of his face has scars from the time he was forced to remain within the arena. Standing bipedal still, he favors a more normal attire over revelling overtly in his draconic lineage, and his attire shows this. Wearing a wide brimmed conical hat to help conceal his face, though the wings give him away anyways, he wears a rather stiff looking uniform. The dull blue attire was taken from the Fotian mistress' slave driver after he killed him in his escape effort, the wraps covering scars from the irons used to restrain him. Other than the gold colored accents, the attire holds no actual purpose. Well worn, white trousers and boots finish his attire, covering him from neck to toe in material, all minimizing his exposure. Personality: Ansgar is not the man he once was, having tempered the rage and fury of his slave fighting days. These days, he often prefers the taverns and seedier dives on the outskirts of kingdoms, such out of the way places often not attracting as much attention. He prefers the quiet relaxation a good tavern can provide, relaxing and keeping his name and reputation unheard. He is not a braggart, despite having good cause to brag, and does attempt to avoid a fight. But, should violence prove necessary, one can catch a glimpse of the passionate fury of old. He fights with no sense of honor or respect, taking any and all advantages in a fight to claim victory, regardless of how much any companions might frown upon it. Ganging up on an enemy, putting a dagger into their back when they turn away, gunning a man down as he runs, so long as it ends the conflict, he will see it done, and will gladly explain the why to those that might turn their nose up at such actions or dare raise a hand to reprimand. Faction: None Exp: Born into slavery, Ansgar was sold to the arena as the sight of his draconic blood, in Fotia no less, meant he would be ill received elsewhere. Trained by the task masters and other slave fighters from as young as he could hold his oversized sword, he was drilled and beaten and violated on more than one occasion for disobedience, subpar performance, or sheer whim. He developed not only sheer physical toughness and strength, but mental as well, refusing to break despite the abusive nature of his 'profession'. Having developed the physical and mental strength and durability to make it as a slave fighter, he had to prove it. Over twenty years in the arena, from the young age of sixteen, fighting, bleeding, and barely making survival happen at the cost of others. Despite his long running success, the Dragon blood marked him and prevented fame to come, forcing him to learn how to escape, and apply it. After raising the Arena and fleeing Fotia, he would wander, learning to survive in the wilds of most lands and maintain his equipment, doing odd jobs and mercenary work wherever he could. A graduate from the school of hard knocks, indeed, but he carries himself well despite it. Pet: N/A Spells: Fury of the Scorned - Ansgar only knows one spell, if it could be called that, and it was the only thing that kept him alive long enough to escape slavery. Taking the inner fire of his blood, from the Tyro and Dragon portions, he manifests the flames as a cloak that surrounds his form. Besides the obvious danger this poses to anyone close by or to anything flammable, the aptly named Fury unleashes the last 80 years of simmering rage, pushing him to the very limits of what he is capable of physically. Moving faster, moving greater loads, processing information faster, he forces his body into a state of overdrive. The more danger he is in, the more potent the effects. However, the aftermath when he releases the spell is potent, leaving him heavily drained and exhausted, taking a few days at least before he could even consider doing it again. Abilities/Powers: - Heat Detection - Heat Resistance - Fire Breath - Resistance to Bleeding - Dense, metallic Horns - Binocular Vision - Potent Sense of Smell - Scales highly resistant to both Heat and Cold, stacking onto his natural resistance to heat. - Wings, claws and strength fitting a Dragon blooded of his size - Mastery of his Sword Weapons: Unnamed Blade - A weapon that Ansgar has had for as long as he can remember, it was the weapon given to him to fight in the arena for the glory and profit of his owner. A rigid, straight blade with only one edge sharpened, the weapon has no ornamentation or fancifulness in design, being forged solely as a war sword. Large for your average Descendant, the blade itself is just over four feet in length, with ten inch hilt and lacking any sort of guard at all, it would not likely be found or even liked by most conventional soldiers or enforcers. However, with training and experience, Ansgar has not only proven it to be viable, but even surpassing other warriors when blades are crossed. History: Born a Slave, Ansgar was thrown into the Arenas of his homeland of Fortia, expecting to be dead by his early thirties, and that was being generous. Yet, survive the dragon blooded would, spite and anger carrying him when tactics and reason failed. Even those that tried to bleed him dry on the arena floor found his blood thicker than expected, enough of the Oro blood keeping him from bleeding easily enough for the arena fighters. Always forced to fight without armor, he would accumulate many scars where the scales failed to cover, or failed to protect at times. Yet, in time, he would find an opening after a particuraly nasty fight in the arena, killing the handler assigned to him by his mistress and owner, and escaping in the confusion as he used the fire breath of his lineage to melt the locks of those not confined in cells designed to resist such things. The ensuing revolt would be readily put down, of course, but the instigator was gone, and the man who was to control and watch him, stripped of useful possessions and mutilated. A simple message carved into his chest, something that Ansgar would live by during his wandering, regardless of the happenings of the world. Also serving as a gauntlet thrown to his owner, a dare that she come after him carved into the flesh of her confidant in controlling him. [color=a0410d][i]"Unbound and Free"[/i][/color] Trivia: Ansgar has a rather intense fascination with all things technological, any chance he can get to get his hands on such things, he often spends much of his free time tinkering and manipulating the devices in question, to learn their inner workings. He would go to great lengths to get his hands on an Advanced Apparatus of any sort. [/hider] [quote=@Dark Light] [hider] [u][b]Character sheet[/b][/u] [b]Quote:[/b] "[i]From pain grows strength[/i]" [b]Name:[/b] Oron Varaleth [b]Age:[/b] 75 [b]Species:[/b] Descended [b]Blood%:[/b] 40 Oro, 40 Nayu, 20 Seraphim [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Sex Preference:[/b] Hetero, [b]Height:[/b] 6'9 [b]Weight:[/b] 343 pounds [b]Physical appearance:[/b] [hider=appearance][img] https://67.media.tumblr.com/1aa40ed977de03fb18350964455ffb4e/tumblr_ny6s5lmg0b1ts8jcso1_500.png [/img][/hider] [b]Apparel:[/b] Bracers, belt and shoulder guard [b]Vehicle:[/b] [b]Personality:[/b] He is a hard and stubborn man, not one for many words. How ever if he feels strongly about an opinion he will make it heard. [b]Occupation:[/b] Mercenary/ Jungle tour guide. [b]Faction:[/b] Therosi (light affiliation) [b]Pet:[/b][hider=Pet details] [hider=image][img]http://static1.1.sqspcdn.com/static/f/338427/3545810/1247119766003/rumble.jpg?token=qTZggdO%2FawhvKc4OpbmGWsqOaM8%3D[/img][/hider][indent]Name- Daggort 'Gort' Height- 38inches Weight- 280 pounds Age- 30 Sex- Male Personality- LAZY! Equipment - Abilities/Powers- [list] [*]Health regen. (Fast healing) [*]Heigtened senses.[/list][/indent][/hider] [b]Adv. App:[/b] N/A [b]Family:[/b][hider][hr]Father: Ashcirh (Nayu) ex Dolofon assassin, now hunter. [hider=Image][img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/ef8be0d6ee9f99baa51b14c9104b14c5/tumblr_mkqlpp9Xgi1s7x60do1_1280.jpg [/img][/hider] Mother: Nowyn (Oro) Dragon tamer [hider=Image][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/0c/e1/d7/0ce1d7b0dc3f3dbb72a74823677ed36e.jpg[/img][/hider][hr][/hider] [b]Exp:[/b] He learnt hunting and stealth from from his father in his early to young adult years. He picked up some dragon tamer/trainer skills from his mother but is far from experienced. He has heavy guard experience, even some Royal guard training. There he learnt patience and combat and tactics. His dark years of wandering the wilderness and travelling from town to town made him stronger as all his previous life training (guard/hunter/tamer) fell together and evolved into something more. Survival skills. That's when he was forced to hone his abilities. There were a few years of pit fighting where he mixed his abilities with actual combat before he found a more lucrative use for his skills, escorting the weak and fragile through the harsh jungles of Nero. [b]Abilities/Powers:[/b] [list] [*][u]Rock hard hide:[/u] He has skin to match his home towns name. As he grew older it became more solid and dense, each injury and hardship only fortifying its strength. [*][u]Strength boost:[/u] His Oro blood runs strong with dragon heritage and from birth he was gifted with immense strength. [*][u]Soul sense:[/u] As one might see people's and creatures auras, Oron can feel them. He can tell if someone is hiding nearby. He can sense hostility even if the person is hiding it. This gives him a sixth sense when in combat, giving him an edge on reaction time, anticipating attacks. He never realised he had or was using this ability until he was forced to rely on it surviving in the jungles on his own. Once he understood how it worked with creatures he then developed it and brought it into combat. [*][u]Blood Coalescence:[/u]Currently still undiscovered this ties in with blood consumption (which he has been keeping at bay with an appetite for raw meat.) and will boost or give benefits of the bloodline he consumes.[/list] [b]Weapons:[/b] His heavy hammers [b]History:[/b] Born in Gaia, Onyx. An only child to well off parents. His father a Nayu and once an important member amongst the Dolofon faction, transferred his skills to became a hunter after falling in love with a great renown Oro dragon tamer. So renown was she that she was recruited in the training of the Niscent family. That is how Azerus first met young queen Allo. That was long before she had developed into the stunning woman she is today but already she was the most beautiful thing Azerus had ever seen and he quickly became infatuated. That was the day his plans for the future completely changed. No longer was he happy to just become a respectable hunter. Despite the loathing disdain and silent historical feud between Azerus's and Allo's farther, because of Azerus natural physical talent for combat he was granted a short tutorage into the path of a guard. If he wanted to one day take the hand of a Royal guards daughter he figured he would need the respect of such a title. Oron later moved to Pearl to join the guards. Here he did well and showed great promise but in the prime of his career he was hit by news of his fathers death. A murder. At this time Allo had also now become queen and no matter his position would forevermore be out of his reach. His life, purpose and direction we're all suddenly torn from him. Heart broken, alone, and lost, vengeance overwhelmed him and his duties fell to the side. He gave up on perusing Allo, he gave up on his oaths as a guard and after time he too even eventually gave up on finding his fathers killer. After many years of wondering Oron eventually made a new home. Now at Twighlight were his aptitude for violence and pent up hatred is appreciated in his roll as a tour guide for Nero's jungles. [b]Trivia:[/b] His father was assassinated by some of his old friends after refusing to use his position and advantages to kill young Allo. Believing in the superiority of dragons he does the odd job for the Therosi but isn't an active member. Punishment for his actions against Gaia, his failure to uphold his duty, the endangering of citizens of the kingdom and speaking out of term towards the new queen, was the public shameful removal of his horns and wings. Stripping his ties to true dragons that the Oro hold so dear. Oron does not know of his Seraphim blood. [/hider] [/quote]