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[CHAR] Bronze Castle's Spikes
- Fantasy
- Casual
- 18+
- Medieval
- Small Group
- GM GreenGoat
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Cu Chulainn nuts
Member
Seen
5 days ago
Name: Galain Jinn
Race: Bright Elf
Age: 147, physically appears like a human in their mid 20s
Sex: Male
Appearance: Galain sports shoulder-length white hair, straightened meticulously. His form is slender but athletic, sporting the slimmed musculature of the trained warriors of his people. Despite his age, his straight and narrow features make him appear wiser than he actually is. Galain's eyes are also normally closed, hiding his cyan eyes. How he does this while still fighting is one of the many mysteries of the Bronze Castle, but his ears appear to be his weak points.
Personality: The solitary type who avoids most comforts in favor of getting more work done. Patient and stoic, very aware of his kind's long life much to his detriment. At the same time, possesses a dry wit and a sarcastic nature. Unlike his kind, is quite understanding of the monstrous races, having grown accustomed to their culture and lifestyle, while also aware he will never truly be welcomed by them. Seems to be weighed down by a past trauma. Also a bit of a clean freak who will do housework without a second thought if asked.
History: A Bright Elf knight who had come to the Bronze Castle not too long ago, Galain served as a protector of a would-be interloper to the throne. Making it past the walls and beyond, the interloper in question might have been successful in ending the King's reign prematurely had it not been for a decisive blow. With his charge dead and the rest of his retinue defeated, Galain had surrendered. Rather than returning home with his honor tarnished, Galain had chosen to stay within the walls of the Bronze Castle in exile. However, the longer he had spent within the castle, the closer he became with the assortment of monstrous tribes that make up the kingdom. Believing that his people and the monsters could make peace, Galain had sworn himself to the Bronze King, hoping to restore his honor by serving as an emissary of his people. Little did he know the outrage that his defeat had caused in the lands of the Bright Elves...
Personal Ability: Above all else, Galain's abilities with the sword are top-notch, having been trained by a true master of the art, fighting with a mix of single and two-handed grips. However, instead of the flashy techniques used by other Bright Elves, Galain's swordsmanship is much more practical in nature, focused on defensive techniques such as parrying attacks and deflecting arrows mid-flight. Galain's hearing is also quite keen even for an elf, utilizing his sensitive ears to both aid himself in combat and to keep an ear out against ambushes and subterfuge. Other notable skills include negotiating, horseback riding, calligraphy, and acrobatics.
Equipment: Galain's signature weapon is an exotic-looking elven sword, an elegantly forged thin curved blade forged from silverite mithril, a precious metal commonly used by the Bright Elves. While its curved edge is tapered to enhance cutting power, it still possesses the ability to stab like other swords. Galain's other possessions include quilted silver robes made to protect the wearer while maximizing mobility, and a thin mithril circlet worn mostly to denote his former station. Among Galain's most treasured possessions is a silver ring given to him by the knight he once served. The ring seems... attached to him in some way.
Spike Name: Resilience Lunar
Spike Description: A silver ring inlaid with a shimmering moonstone gem. Within the inner portion of the ring, three long spikes emerge, each a reminder of the wearer's past mistakes, retracted until it is worn on one's ring finger. These spikes pierce the wearer's finger if they are compatible with its magics, becoming permanently affixed. The moonstone glows a pale blue whenever its active powers are utilized, and radiating pain surges through the wearer's arm once a power is activated.
Spike Theme: Rejection. To reject the status quo, and to reject outside influences from affecting one's self. The moon orbits away from the sun, and it shines only because it reflects the sun's rays away from itself.
Spike Abilities: At a baseline, Resilience Lunar possesses a passive and an active component. The passive ability allows the wielder to reject physical forces, boosting the wearer's resistance against effects that would knock them down or keep them pinned. The active ability allows the wielder to push other creatures and objects with directed telekinetic force, rejecting those from the wearer's space. While the telekinetic power is strong enough to sweep the average human-sized creature off their feet, it currently doesn't possess enough force to cause any damage on its own.
Race: Bright Elf
Age: 147, physically appears like a human in their mid 20s
Sex: Male
Appearance: Galain sports shoulder-length white hair, straightened meticulously. His form is slender but athletic, sporting the slimmed musculature of the trained warriors of his people. Despite his age, his straight and narrow features make him appear wiser than he actually is. Galain's eyes are also normally closed, hiding his cyan eyes. How he does this while still fighting is one of the many mysteries of the Bronze Castle, but his ears appear to be his weak points.
Personality: The solitary type who avoids most comforts in favor of getting more work done. Patient and stoic, very aware of his kind's long life much to his detriment. At the same time, possesses a dry wit and a sarcastic nature. Unlike his kind, is quite understanding of the monstrous races, having grown accustomed to their culture and lifestyle, while also aware he will never truly be welcomed by them. Seems to be weighed down by a past trauma. Also a bit of a clean freak who will do housework without a second thought if asked.
History: A Bright Elf knight who had come to the Bronze Castle not too long ago, Galain served as a protector of a would-be interloper to the throne. Making it past the walls and beyond, the interloper in question might have been successful in ending the King's reign prematurely had it not been for a decisive blow. With his charge dead and the rest of his retinue defeated, Galain had surrendered. Rather than returning home with his honor tarnished, Galain had chosen to stay within the walls of the Bronze Castle in exile. However, the longer he had spent within the castle, the closer he became with the assortment of monstrous tribes that make up the kingdom. Believing that his people and the monsters could make peace, Galain had sworn himself to the Bronze King, hoping to restore his honor by serving as an emissary of his people. Little did he know the outrage that his defeat had caused in the lands of the Bright Elves...
Personal Ability: Above all else, Galain's abilities with the sword are top-notch, having been trained by a true master of the art, fighting with a mix of single and two-handed grips. However, instead of the flashy techniques used by other Bright Elves, Galain's swordsmanship is much more practical in nature, focused on defensive techniques such as parrying attacks and deflecting arrows mid-flight. Galain's hearing is also quite keen even for an elf, utilizing his sensitive ears to both aid himself in combat and to keep an ear out against ambushes and subterfuge. Other notable skills include negotiating, horseback riding, calligraphy, and acrobatics.
Equipment: Galain's signature weapon is an exotic-looking elven sword, an elegantly forged thin curved blade forged from silverite mithril, a precious metal commonly used by the Bright Elves. While its curved edge is tapered to enhance cutting power, it still possesses the ability to stab like other swords. Galain's other possessions include quilted silver robes made to protect the wearer while maximizing mobility, and a thin mithril circlet worn mostly to denote his former station. Among Galain's most treasured possessions is a silver ring given to him by the knight he once served. The ring seems... attached to him in some way.
Spike Name: Resilience Lunar
Spike Description: A silver ring inlaid with a shimmering moonstone gem. Within the inner portion of the ring, three long spikes emerge, each a reminder of the wearer's past mistakes, retracted until it is worn on one's ring finger. These spikes pierce the wearer's finger if they are compatible with its magics, becoming permanently affixed. The moonstone glows a pale blue whenever its active powers are utilized, and radiating pain surges through the wearer's arm once a power is activated.
Spike Theme: Rejection. To reject the status quo, and to reject outside influences from affecting one's self. The moon orbits away from the sun, and it shines only because it reflects the sun's rays away from itself.
Spike Abilities: At a baseline, Resilience Lunar possesses a passive and an active component. The passive ability allows the wielder to reject physical forces, boosting the wearer's resistance against effects that would knock them down or keep them pinned. The active ability allows the wielder to push other creatures and objects with directed telekinetic force, rejecting those from the wearer's space. While the telekinetic power is strong enough to sweep the average human-sized creature off their feet, it currently doesn't possess enough force to cause any damage on its own.
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OwO what's this?
Member
Seen
3 days ago
Name: Amitha Ain
Race: Beastmorph - Goat
Age: Amitha appears to be in her mid 20s. Her actual age is a mystery, as much of her life was spent as a goat.
Sex: Female
Appearance: Compared to the numerous small races of the Bronze Castle, Amitha stands out as a giant. At 6'0" (183 cm) and a toned build, she appears as more of a warrior than a smith. Besides that, she appears to be more human than any other race besides the markers of her previous form: large curved horns and wide pupils.
Personality: While one may first view Amitha as a stoic warrior, she's much more of a curious soul. While a sense of duty and repayment often compels her to often help others, she's just as often spotted doing strange things to experience the process. In fact, one could consider her to be a certified moron. She often shoves inedible, spoiled, and toxic things in her mouth just to try it. While she has skill with blacksmithing--compounded by her spike--her skill with any complex tax besides that is sorely lacking. She's also illiterate, as goats often are.
History: The lone blacksmith with a goat. He lived in solitude--far enough away that only patrols would stumble upon his smithy. Only the constant hammering gave any sign of his existence. He could make anything. Nails, horse shoes, weapons, tools, anything that could be made, he made. The hammering of his forge could be heard from some distance.
He was a miserly man. Misanthropic to a fault, some would say. His eyes would only light up from two things: the glow of his forge and telling others of what his goat had been up to. Maybe he was just using the goat as an enthusiastic excuse to not speak about himself, but he really loved it. He would often tell others about "that time his goat ate an entire set of nails" or "his roof caved in because the goat ate the thatching." His--and his goat's--legacy was only cut short when he keeled over and died of old age while buying his month's worth of rations.
But the hammering of the forge never stopped. Even with news of the dwarven smithmaster's death reaching every citizen of the Bronze Castle, the hammering continued.
Of course, when guards inspected the smithy, there was only a single occupant. A woman with goat horns and eyes, desperately trying to finish her master's final order of tools.
Equipments: Besides the thick leathers worn by a blacksmith, Amitha wields a single dwarven hammer. It was made for smithing with a small steel head, though it had been enchanted with magic to weigh more than it would appear.
Spike
Spike Name: What Spike
Spike Description: Possessing no noteworthy appearance, Cast Manifestation could be considered unique in how unassuming it is. It appears simply as a weathered nail.
Spike Theme: "Smithing"
Spike Abilities
Reformation - By striking a solid material or object, the wielder can bend the struck area to whatever shape they can imagine. The complexity and amount of change determines how many strikes are needed to reform an object. This ability requires immense concentration, making it unsuitable for any combat application other than "warp struck area in some way".
Omnilurgy - By striking two solid materials together, the wielder of Cast Manifestation can alloy them together even if the materials could otherwise not be combined. While this can confer a useful alloy, most combinations of materials create useless trash, unable to be used for even scrap.
Personal Ability: Despite her inability to explain her processes, Amitha is a considerably skilled smith even without her spike. Her general lack of intelligence doesn't apply to smithing. She is one of the few sources of steel within the castle, though her process is too wasteful, long, and demanding to be considered of value. Her ability to fight is also fairly good, but it's obvious that it is entirely instinctual.
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Kazemitsu The Dragon
Member
Seen
2 days ago
Name: Feng
Race: Minotaur
Age: 29
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Feng is a behemoth like most of his kind, standing above a good portion at a little over seven feet tall, no his horns don't count. His fur is a snow white in color, a bizarre look since his tribe is filled with nothing but dark furred minotaurs. Another anomaly are his eyes, a deep crimson in color. Upon his thick shoulder lies a mark in his fur, a pale blue trident-like mark. Like the rest of his tribe he is built like a monster, his muscle structure thick and heavy, built for work or fighting. When angry all his teeth are on display, rows of sharp chompers, so that's a sure sign to back up.
Personality:
Feng is a pragmatic being, anything of use is used with little waste. People, materials, food, it's all the same to him. He's also incredibly blunt, getting straight to the point of things or destroying flowery language in favor of a simple explanation. He has little patience for word-play and is quick to get physical when annoyed. A trait among his tribe to settle most things with a duel than to use word-based diplomacy. Feng in particular can be rather ornery, quick to bare his teeth to let others know of his anger.
History:
Feng is an oddity among his tribe, essentially an albino minotaur with a strange mark on his shoulder. No stories, tales, prophecies, or legends surrounded his birth. He was just a strange one, which lead to a more ornery than most adult. Quick to anger, quick to fight thanks to a rather rough childhood. He and his tribe had moved to the Bronze Castle in favor of settling down over their more nomadic lifestyle.
His people offered some forms of crafting and offered plenty of a work force for hauling. That was what most of his tribe did, they hauled the ores and stone out of the mine since it was more efficient than having the smaller races do it. During one of his hauling trips Feng had been accosted by one of his old bullies, past grievances never being settled. Well during their duel to settle things the smaller minotaur in a fit of anger pulled out the Spike and jammed it into Feng's chest. Strangely it didn't kill him, but it actually drilled itself in until it was flush with his skin. The pain of it had actually driven Feng into a new rage and he had snapped the offenders neck using their own horns as handles.
Death was rare, but it did happen in these duels and his killing was justified with his tribe. But what to do about this artifact in his chest? Pulling it out seemed like a terrible idea, leaving it in sounded even worse. It wasn't until they learned about Spikes in general that eased the white ones nerves a bit. But what did his do? During a personal hunt he had downed a strangely armored creature. It wasn't huge, but it was big enough to be a meal and be dangerous with those digging claws. Despite its curling ability he could slip a blade between its shell pieces and he was able to avoid those deadly claws. With it dead he obviously ate it, not even bothering cooking it. While he ate he felt a tingle through his body and his Spike showed off what it could do. Now he was covered in the same armor plating as the beast had been. He could steal other beings strongest attributes and use them himself!
So with this knowledge in mind, and his tribe knowing it as well, he decided to heed the call for Spiker's that the King had put out. Maybe it would gain his tribe some prestige, if not the money didn't sound bad at all and you couldn't have too much cash.
Equipment:
Spike
Spike Name: Aspect Thief
Spike Description: A jet black spike that looks to be made of chitin. Along its surface are red pulsing veins, almost as if the spike had been shattered and repaired at one point. The spike is located dead center of his chest and seems to be constantly active judging by the glowing.
Spike Theme: Stealing beneficial aspects from dead enemies to make the wielder better. Which also grants limited forms of shapeshifting of the physical body.
Spike Abilities:
Personal Ability:
Race: Minotaur
Age: 29
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Feng is a behemoth like most of his kind, standing above a good portion at a little over seven feet tall, no his horns don't count. His fur is a snow white in color, a bizarre look since his tribe is filled with nothing but dark furred minotaurs. Another anomaly are his eyes, a deep crimson in color. Upon his thick shoulder lies a mark in his fur, a pale blue trident-like mark. Like the rest of his tribe he is built like a monster, his muscle structure thick and heavy, built for work or fighting. When angry all his teeth are on display, rows of sharp chompers, so that's a sure sign to back up.
Personality:
Feng is a pragmatic being, anything of use is used with little waste. People, materials, food, it's all the same to him. He's also incredibly blunt, getting straight to the point of things or destroying flowery language in favor of a simple explanation. He has little patience for word-play and is quick to get physical when annoyed. A trait among his tribe to settle most things with a duel than to use word-based diplomacy. Feng in particular can be rather ornery, quick to bare his teeth to let others know of his anger.
History:
Feng is an oddity among his tribe, essentially an albino minotaur with a strange mark on his shoulder. No stories, tales, prophecies, or legends surrounded his birth. He was just a strange one, which lead to a more ornery than most adult. Quick to anger, quick to fight thanks to a rather rough childhood. He and his tribe had moved to the Bronze Castle in favor of settling down over their more nomadic lifestyle.
His people offered some forms of crafting and offered plenty of a work force for hauling. That was what most of his tribe did, they hauled the ores and stone out of the mine since it was more efficient than having the smaller races do it. During one of his hauling trips Feng had been accosted by one of his old bullies, past grievances never being settled. Well during their duel to settle things the smaller minotaur in a fit of anger pulled out the Spike and jammed it into Feng's chest. Strangely it didn't kill him, but it actually drilled itself in until it was flush with his skin. The pain of it had actually driven Feng into a new rage and he had snapped the offenders neck using their own horns as handles.
Death was rare, but it did happen in these duels and his killing was justified with his tribe. But what to do about this artifact in his chest? Pulling it out seemed like a terrible idea, leaving it in sounded even worse. It wasn't until they learned about Spikes in general that eased the white ones nerves a bit. But what did his do? During a personal hunt he had downed a strangely armored creature. It wasn't huge, but it was big enough to be a meal and be dangerous with those digging claws. Despite its curling ability he could slip a blade between its shell pieces and he was able to avoid those deadly claws. With it dead he obviously ate it, not even bothering cooking it. While he ate he felt a tingle through his body and his Spike showed off what it could do. Now he was covered in the same armor plating as the beast had been. He could steal other beings strongest attributes and use them himself!
So with this knowledge in mind, and his tribe knowing it as well, he decided to heed the call for Spiker's that the King had put out. Maybe it would gain his tribe some prestige, if not the money didn't sound bad at all and you couldn't have too much cash.
Equipment:
- Stone Axe: A rather large axe made of dark colored granite and tied with leather straps to a thick piece of wood.
- Red Clothing: Traditional garb of his tribe, a long and red loincloth made of a thick cloth.
- Red Tooth Bangle: A copper bangle wrapped in red cloth and decorated with the sharp teeth of his ancestors.
Spike
Spike Name: Aspect Thief
Spike Description: A jet black spike that looks to be made of chitin. Along its surface are red pulsing veins, almost as if the spike had been shattered and repaired at one point. The spike is located dead center of his chest and seems to be constantly active judging by the glowing.
Spike Theme: Stealing beneficial aspects from dead enemies to make the wielder better. Which also grants limited forms of shapeshifting of the physical body.
Spike Abilities:
- Absorbing Theft: As the name suggests after killing something he absorbs something from them by consuming a portion of their body. This applies to physical attributes only and redundant aspects do not compile together. The stronger one is taken while the weaker is cast off. (He can't eat 50 ogres and have 50 ogres worth of strength, it's just the strength of one ogre.)
- Transformation: With his spike functioning he can change his body to better suit certain situations. He can cover his body in chitin armor for example, or get monstrous claws, cudgel-like hands, etc etc. The more, and different, creatures he eats and steals from the more complex forms he can change himself into. Currently only one aspect can be active at a time and it takes a moment to change between them. Having to revert to normal before changing again. Lesser beings also offer nothing of benefit, no extra speed from a normal rat and such.
Personal Ability:
- Crafting: He's not the best but he can craft weapons from wood, stone, and metal. The highest quality material he has used is copper, its softness making it easy to make a weapon with.
- Disassembly: What one can make, one can also destroy. Eying weapons, and even some armors, he can figure out how to break it despite the material it's made from. Harder materials are just harder to break but share the same weak-points.
- Fighting: Unlike most of his tribe he's more of a fighter than a craftsman or miner. Hand to hand, no weapons, few are able to best him thanks to his sheer strength, durability, and ferocity. Even some weapons don't provide much help against him once he gets in close.
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seanmcchapman The bad ending
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
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Race:
Beast Morph Komodo Dragon
Age:
Tash visually looks like a young adult. Some features like around his eyes is darker, slightly wrinkled, and baggy that make him look older, but these features come from his animal side with a mix of never sleeping enough*.
Sex:
Hermaphrodite
Appearance: 5'4" in height, tail just as long Amber colored eyes, visible capillaries in irises, forked yellow tongue, digitigrade feet, covered in dark grey scales excluding face biceps and most of the chest. White hair.
covered in dark grey scales excluding face biceps and most of the chest.
Personality:
His mouth sometimes can't keep up with his mind, making him come off like a total bimbo sometimes. He can start talking about several things at once, and can make things worse in transition to trying to focus the words. Beyond his interests he tries to act like he's keeping up with what's around him given his lack of mannerisms. Seems to be thinking of something else.
Screaming had echoed within a empty building. There sat upon remains of a small wooden animal cage, bones of several types of small creatures, and fecal matter, was Tash. The place seems to have been abandoned, with other kinds of creatures in cages with a assortment of being alive or dead. There were a few piles of dead rats on the floor being consumed by their kin. The rats actually trapped by the rat-traps were at the bottom of the piles, had rotted away long ago.
After long Tash had gathered themselves, turning confusion and fear into bored contempt. Tash made a mess of bottled taxidermies and miscellaneous substances in containers. Upon a time of rest Tash could recall a females voice in their head. It turned into a memory of a hooded figure who would rummage around this room along with repeating several sentences for hours. They would hunch over serval books upon a rickety table. The memory would fade along with Tash's attempts at repeating the words of the women.
The period that Tash spent in the building would last over two days and within that span he started piling like things together. Going through the building he had eaten some animals, while freeing the remaining ones. While investigating the books he came across a bestiary with several pages soaked in rat piss, others just missing. It depicted illustrations of some local fauna and races that included wolves, rabbits, deer, goblins, kobolds, and harpies. The rest of that book, intact, was written and harder for Tash to get interested in. There was a flight of stairs up and out of the basement. Upstairs, the rest of the house, was dim, dirty, and cold. It was nearly baron beyond furniture and essentials. It lacked personality and the soul of someone living within.
Enough time passed forcing Tash to leave the house in search of food in a nearby forest. He ventured in directionless besides for his hunger driving him forward. He would hunt and bring game back to the hut.
One day guards caught word there had been a reduced amount of deer in an area and went to investigate. On a trail Tash had been laying in a bush next to some deer tracks. Guards of the Castle happened to be marching in Tash's direction. As the men came within 20 feet of Tash, he decided to booked it after they had passed. One of the guards noticed and they apprehended Tash for questioning. . .
After long Tash had gathered themselves, turning confusion and fear into bored contempt. Tash made a mess of bottled taxidermies and miscellaneous substances in containers. Upon a time of rest Tash could recall a females voice in their head. It turned into a memory of a hooded figure who would rummage around this room along with repeating several sentences for hours. They would hunch over serval books upon a rickety table. The memory would fade along with Tash's attempts at repeating the words of the women.
The period that Tash spent in the building would last over two days and within that span he started piling like things together. Going through the building he had eaten some animals, while freeing the remaining ones. While investigating the books he came across a bestiary with several pages soaked in rat piss, others just missing. It depicted illustrations of some local fauna and races that included wolves, rabbits, deer, goblins, kobolds, and harpies. The rest of that book, intact, was written and harder for Tash to get interested in. There was a flight of stairs up and out of the basement. Upstairs, the rest of the house, was dim, dirty, and cold. It was nearly baron beyond furniture and essentials. It lacked personality and the soul of someone living within.
Enough time passed forcing Tash to leave the house in search of food in a nearby forest. He ventured in directionless besides for his hunger driving him forward. He would hunt and bring game back to the hut.
One day guards caught word there had been a reduced amount of deer in an area and went to investigate. On a trail Tash had been laying in a bush next to some deer tracks. Guards of the Castle happened to be marching in Tash's direction. As the men came within 20 feet of Tash, he decided to booked it after they had passed. One of the guards noticed and they apprehended Tash for questioning. . .
Equipments:
-Cook Book: You are stew! (Philosophy and cannibalism suggestive)
-Arcane Book: (is it in a common language? If so TASH still needs to learn it!)
-Thin cotton clothes
Cook books to Wizardry. Tash had collected and kept several items from his "house" and from help of the people he's come acrossed. Tash normally is a foody with the metabolism to match. After developing his interest of wizardry Tash has lost them selves at times in their study sometimes starving themselves. Tash has also been found to neglect their interest in cooking when studying magic, leaving food to rot in their home.
Spike
Name:
Damocles Demise (A familiar voice echoed)
Description:
Tash discovered the spike during his time in the hut; when he first woke up as a beastmorph. It was piercing through his tail, which was inflamed. It was a foot in length with its ends revealing out the top and bottom. Beyond being engraved, it was made of some odd tinted metal that appears to be made of steel? with a purple glint to it. The metal looks as if it were cut hastily leaving sharp burrs.
Spike Theme:
"Falling"
Spike Abilities:
Your first ability is the ability to drop down towards earth, with more momentum and impact the higher you drop from. This will also strongly counteract any damage you might have taken from dropping down from heights that would usually injure you, up to a 10m for now. Any more than that, and you might start getting injuries from the fall damage. Activating it will stop any forwards momentum and immediately plunge you to earth.
Second is the ability to affix any single item, including yourself in the air. Items affixed will not move around, nor can you fly with it. Throwing it in the air to get a greater distance will only give you about two feet of reach before it fixes itself in the air. Items (or you) affixed in the air can get knocked out of position and cancel the skill if someone hits it or you hard enough. While your energy drains slowly based on the size of the object you affix to the air, you can activate your first ability any time to make any affixed object plunge to earth with the same effects.
Personal Ability:
-bacteria and venom in its saliva can kill a hooman within a few days. The venom prevents the blood from clotting, which causes massive blood loss and induces shock.
-powerful sense of smell: can smell carrion, or rotting flesh, up to 2.5 miles (4 kilometers) away. It uses its long, yellow, forked tongue to sample the air.
-poor vision in dim light.
-smaller hearing range than humans: cannot hear sounds like low-pitched voices or high-
pitched screams
-resistance to bacteria and venom
-sharp teeth
Name: Fyr
Race: Demon
Age: 33
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Fyr's about 162cm tall and of above-average muscularity, but feasting and drinking have caused a noticeable amount of fat to accumulate around his waistline as well. His black hair reaches well past his shoulders and is one big and unkempt mess he seems to be almost as proud of as of his wound horns. The latter don't appear to be made of keratine, but of some kind of much more mechanically stable compound. Those few people who had the opportunity to touch them even claim that they'd feel a bit metallic. His skin is of a reddish complexion all over his body and feels more like leather than anything else. A look on his nacked back would reveal quite an assortment of long scars.
Personality: Most people might associate hell with nothing but terror, so it comes all the more as a surprise to them that Fyr actually is not the kind of savage killer addicted to cruelty they might expect. On the contrary Fyr tends to be friendly, sometimes even jovial. Despite all the threats surrounding it and all the hardships of survival it brings with it, Castle Bronze actually is the best thing that has happened in Fyr's life so far. His thankfulness not only comes from him realizing that it's advisable, but from heart -- as much as a demon can have such, that is.
However Fyr also likes to enjoy himself, feasting and drinking when there's the right opportunity and pulling harmless pranks on people to get over a hangover. Overall the process of socialization with the castle's inhabitants goes along well, but still not to the degree he and the people around him might prefer for he still knows little about the social customs of this world's inhabitants.
In combat, Fyr presents himself as determined and nasty. He treats his present enemies the same way he treated his past enemies, just with more experience.
History: The forest around Bronze Castle is large and diverse, and so are the creatures and individuals living in there. Not everyone is turned down by initial failure, not everyone lacks the optimism and dedication required to pull through with a delicate piece of magic and not everyone is afraid of the darker things possible.
It was a dark and thunderous night when Fyr was ripped out of hell and tossed into the mundane world, summoned by ritualists who had spent months on their effort to obtain some 'help' for their own tribe. Their belief was that they had targeted the spell right and only summoned one of the lesser, more docile inhabitants of hell whom could be controlled and used for their own purpose. Ignite that campfire here, cast a levitation spell onto that brutally heavy stone there, do this, do that...
Admitted, at first Fyr did indeed not even realize that he was effectively being enslaved, simply because that kind of treatment was not so different from what the small demon had been experiencing in hell for years. However now he saw something he had not seen before: People walking around without someone else lashing them into a certain direction, people just doing what thy wanted to do... freedom. He struggled with his unfamiliarity with the world, but still the desire rose quickly to obtain this freedom for it just felt so much better.
Fyr had not killed before for he simply had been under constant supervision by beings much more capable than him, but the latter didn't hold true for those... whatever those two-legged creatures were. He burned them, impaled their chests with wooden stakes or just outright bashed their heads with whatever happened to lie around. Years of hard labor had hardened him and taught him to adapt so he proved ready. Luckily the Bronze Castle's guards didn't kill him when he arrived at their gate in rugged clothes and with hardly any food left.
There was only one thing of significance he had on his body: a small, golden needle piercing through his left ear. It was, and still is, the only possession that the summoners had brought out of hell along with him. Just like its origin it seems to defy the laws of nature from time to time and grants the same thing to its owner.
Equipment:
Spike:
Personal ability:
Race: Demon
Age: 33
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Fyr's about 162cm tall and of above-average muscularity, but feasting and drinking have caused a noticeable amount of fat to accumulate around his waistline as well. His black hair reaches well past his shoulders and is one big and unkempt mess he seems to be almost as proud of as of his wound horns. The latter don't appear to be made of keratine, but of some kind of much more mechanically stable compound. Those few people who had the opportunity to touch them even claim that they'd feel a bit metallic. His skin is of a reddish complexion all over his body and feels more like leather than anything else. A look on his nacked back would reveal quite an assortment of long scars.
Personality: Most people might associate hell with nothing but terror, so it comes all the more as a surprise to them that Fyr actually is not the kind of savage killer addicted to cruelty they might expect. On the contrary Fyr tends to be friendly, sometimes even jovial. Despite all the threats surrounding it and all the hardships of survival it brings with it, Castle Bronze actually is the best thing that has happened in Fyr's life so far. His thankfulness not only comes from him realizing that it's advisable, but from heart -- as much as a demon can have such, that is.
However Fyr also likes to enjoy himself, feasting and drinking when there's the right opportunity and pulling harmless pranks on people to get over a hangover. Overall the process of socialization with the castle's inhabitants goes along well, but still not to the degree he and the people around him might prefer for he still knows little about the social customs of this world's inhabitants.
In combat, Fyr presents himself as determined and nasty. He treats his present enemies the same way he treated his past enemies, just with more experience.
History: The forest around Bronze Castle is large and diverse, and so are the creatures and individuals living in there. Not everyone is turned down by initial failure, not everyone lacks the optimism and dedication required to pull through with a delicate piece of magic and not everyone is afraid of the darker things possible.
It was a dark and thunderous night when Fyr was ripped out of hell and tossed into the mundane world, summoned by ritualists who had spent months on their effort to obtain some 'help' for their own tribe. Their belief was that they had targeted the spell right and only summoned one of the lesser, more docile inhabitants of hell whom could be controlled and used for their own purpose. Ignite that campfire here, cast a levitation spell onto that brutally heavy stone there, do this, do that...
Admitted, at first Fyr did indeed not even realize that he was effectively being enslaved, simply because that kind of treatment was not so different from what the small demon had been experiencing in hell for years. However now he saw something he had not seen before: People walking around without someone else lashing them into a certain direction, people just doing what thy wanted to do... freedom. He struggled with his unfamiliarity with the world, but still the desire rose quickly to obtain this freedom for it just felt so much better.
Fyr had not killed before for he simply had been under constant supervision by beings much more capable than him, but the latter didn't hold true for those... whatever those two-legged creatures were. He burned them, impaled their chests with wooden stakes or just outright bashed their heads with whatever happened to lie around. Years of hard labor had hardened him and taught him to adapt so he proved ready. Luckily the Bronze Castle's guards didn't kill him when he arrived at their gate in rugged clothes and with hardly any food left.
There was only one thing of significance he had on his body: a small, golden needle piercing through his left ear. It was, and still is, the only possession that the summoners had brought out of hell along with him. Just like its origin it seems to defy the laws of nature from time to time and grants the same thing to its owner.
Equipment:
- Simple linen clothing, more gray than white and intended for everyday use.
- Leather armor adapted to his small size.
- Crossbow: A donation to him since he wanted to learn it, but he's not made much progress with that so far.
Spike:
Spike Name: Horizon Travel
Spike description: A small needle of golden color, yet apparently made of an incredibly much stronger material. There's no decoration on it for the only thing that's not the needle itself is a pair of tiny barbs obviously there to prevent the trinket from detaching from whatever it has been pricked through.
Spike theme: Horizontal travel, even under circumstances that would not allow for it otherwise. It's ought to be damn useful in a place with many lava streams and impassable rifts.
Spike ability:
It should be mentioned that collissions with other objects can be induced by the spike's user or the other person affect by it intentionally by just grabbing them if they happen to be in reach, thereby causing a controlled stop.
Spike description: A small needle of golden color, yet apparently made of an incredibly much stronger material. There's no decoration on it for the only thing that's not the needle itself is a pair of tiny barbs obviously there to prevent the trinket from detaching from whatever it has been pricked through.
Spike theme: Horizontal travel, even under circumstances that would not allow for it otherwise. It's ought to be damn useful in a place with many lava streams and impassable rifts.
Spike ability:
- Upon activation, the spike instantly redirects the bearer's momentum to a line horizontal with respect to the ground. The then horizontal momentum is unchangeably maintained until the bearer can or does not want to maintain it further or an obstacle is encountered. In the latter case the same kind of impact occurs as it would have occurred without using the spike at all when colliding, including any negative consequences for the spike's user. The redirection of the user's current momentum to the horizontal results in similar effects should the current momentum greatly differ from the horizontal momentum.
- The spike can also be used onto another person, working exactly like it would on oneself. In that case the affected indidual needs to maintain the effect as well and its stamina is drained in the same manner.
It should be mentioned that collissions with other objects can be induced by the spike's user or the other person affect by it intentionally by just grabbing them if they happen to be in reach, thereby causing a controlled stop.
Personal ability:
- Fyr's a demon. He has much, much less trouble with wielding magic in a much more instant manner and thus is able to use it even in a fight. However that doesn't automatically make him the pinnacle of wizardry, for every spell's formation still needs to be learned and that is something none of his former masters cared much about. Therefore his repertoire is effective, but also rather basic.
- Resilience: Fyr might not look like much, but he's made sure that all that condensed magic has been put to good physical use by implementing bones and horns significantly reinforced with metallic minerals and by packing his sinews and muscles tighter and sturdier. The good side of things ? He can survive bone-breaking and flesh-tearing events a lot easier than others. The bad side of things ? A well placed stab wound to the heart will still kill him and so would large bloodloss or similar things. Also he's a brutally heavy boy.
- Strength: He's a demon, and albeit he's by far not the largest he's still a lot stronger than he looks like and can easily keep up with much, much larger humans, elves or other individuals. However it is all raw strength, meaning that he simply lacks the skill required in order to put it to effective use in combat. He's probably a brutal tavern brawler, but can be happy to know which side of a sword not to use for holding it.
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