Omiku

Blood Scion

Female

172 years

Omiku resembles an anthropomorphic kitsune with nine tails and a tall and slender build. She is about six and a half feet tall, has dark grey fur and long flowing black hair. Her eyes glow a piercing red that softly illuminates her face like the faded light of the moon. Around her waist, upper arms, and neck is a series of runic symbols that are so black they seem to swallow light at times.

Ordinarily she wears a crimson red suit of armor resembling that of the Samurai, though hers is visibly battle-worn and cracked, with tatters of a dark fabric long since shredded, a reminder of the heights from which she has fallen. From these cracks vague wisps of smoke-like shadows emanate, and on occasion, blood.

Omiku is a being of chaos and destruction. She has an intrinsic desire to feed off the lifeblood of others to sustain her and a greed to take more than is enough. Her heritage encourages an evil inclination, but Omiku is conflicted with inner turmoil and a desire to over come her nature.

Omiku is often cool and collected, on guard to restrain the random thoughts that take a dark turn. She is friendly, if a bit dispassionate, acting in good-faith with others, unless given a reason not to, so as to ingratiate herself in the minds of others.

Her continued existence depends on feeding off of the lifeblood of others, a requirement of her nature. But she has the freedom to choose the victim, often morally justifying her murder by killing unsavory characters if she can. Though in times of starvation her morality may go ignored.

Long ago the creatures of the land began to experience a terrible epidemic of monsters. A horde of vampiric demons appeared from the forbidden lands every dusk to spread death and destruction before returning by dawn. For centuries their neighbors suffered before mounting a resistance together against these ‘Blood Scions’ as they referred them as. As one they formed an impressive defense that forced the Blood Scions to change tactics, no longer could they have their way by force. But with subtlety and trickery. No more were the lands pillaged and strewn with the dead, but in return people went missing. Stolen away in the night by unseen forces.

These events continued for several decades before King Tyronde came to purge the forbidden lands of foul influences and destroyed every trace of the creatures within. The king and his forces spread the purity of land to the dark and cursed lands, reigniting life and hope where once there was death and despair. Within weeks the people were freed from the horrors that plagued them and the region found peace and bounty once again. Or at least that is the official story. Some speak of alternative events in hushed whispers, of one of the monsters turning against the rest. A way for the Blood Scions to be weak and allow the king to appear as a hero without any meaningful danger. Some say that a few of those damned creatures still exist, somewhere near the king. And that his foolishness will allow for them to return.

Ever since that day, Omiku has been in the Maw. Not a pleasant place, the fact that most of the time she is kept isolated from the others. Perhaps they wish to break her mind? Or perhaps mold her into a tool for them to use. Regardless, she has had plenty of time to think and reflect. Her kind has been like a blight on this world, it was no wonder they have found resistance eventually. The humans were simply there to strike at that which has been a plague upon them, a perfectly understandable reaction to the actions of her kin. And of the traitor, he is the one that deserves all of her ire. Betrayal is a high offense, and for what she can only guess. But knowing her kin it was a lust for more.

And that is why she must be different if she is to survive. Her kin have brought little but evil and what did they get in return but the same evil reflected back at them? Omiku must change her ways if she wishes to survive where her kin did not. From now on the only hate she has is for the traitor, let him take on all of her evil. And she has her revenge, she will kill her evil and the traitor together and be free of the nature that consumed her kin.

Omiku can draw upon blood and darkness around her, utilizing both for different means. Blood is life for her kind, and as such it can have rejuvenating effects for her. By consuming fresh blood, she can recover quickly from wounds or even withstand harmful effects for longer than normal. She can form blood into hard objects like swords or shields for attacking or defending.

She feels most at home in the obscuring darkness where horrors are imagined, an entity of the night shunned by the sun. She is able to blend seamlessly in darkness like she was never there, or she can hide within shadows cast from living beings and objects. As long as the shadows cast from two or more different objects are connected, she can near instantly sink into and emerge from any point of the connected shadows. With great effort she can manifest zones of magical darkness that light can not penetrate, though this is exhausting and typically can not be used regularly without the rejuvenating effects of flesh blood.

On occasions, a full moon may appear a crimson red in the sky above her presence. When this phenomenon occurs she will find greatly expanded abilities for the duration of the event, but she will also experience equally great mental distress.


Omiku’s unique anatomy requires blood for sustenance, anything else might settle her stomach but will not have any nutritional value to her. Regular practice of fasting has allowed her to go for extended periods of time without feeding compared to what is normal for her kind, but her abilities will generally diminish after a week without feeding and eventually her cursed life will end.

Additionally, her darkness-based abilities will obviously be less effective as nearby light gets brighter. If there is no absence of light nearby then the relevant powers will be nullified unless she manifests a zone of darkness herself.

Finally, her kind has always felt the oppression of the Sun. Direct exposure to sunlight will be harmful to her beginning shortly after exposure as discomfort before escalating to self-immolation after an extended exposure. Self-Immolation can occur from five minutes to hours depending on the brightness of the sun.

The only thing Omiku needs is her armor, passed down through her clan for generations. Once a source of pride, now a painful reminder of vengeance not yet achieved. Her armor is an extension of herself, a manifestation of her blood and darkness combined. She can manifest or de-manifest it at will, if others attempt to grab onto it they will find it intangible and unable to be manipulated. It still provides protections from attacks like normal.

Has no reflection. She may or may not use this trait to scare people as a joke.

Name: Azir

Race: Ogre

Gender: Female

Age: 29

Appearance: Azir stands at nine feet and eleven inches tall. Weighing around four hundred pounds. Her body type is muscular, but she has a muscular gut that is quite pronounced. She has short brown hair that is uneven because she is not very good at cutting it herself. Her eyes are bright red, with her pupils being slits. Azir’s body is riddled with scars from the many battles she had with humans and with the other races. Another noticeable feature is the earring on her right ear that she stole from a human female. Her teeth are sharp and slightly yellow from not staying hygienic.

Azir doesn’t wear much except a loincloth that barely hides her skin. Although she doesn’t care about clothes, she is forced to wear them inside the prison.

Personality: Azir is a sadistic person who likes to torture those she fights or finds weak. Looking down on people she thinks are weak and worthless of living. For the most part, she would play with her “food” before killing and eating them and torturing her victims with glee before killing them. However, if she does find someone she considers strong, she will praise and respect them. Azir is quick to anger and will react violently to something that she doesn’t like or hear. She is gluttonous and obsessed with food, explicitly drinking liquor. She was getting angry if she was denied food. She also loves fighting, which has caused many problems for the prison. A few things she dislikes are weaklings, vegetables, and bathing.

Azir will not take losing lightly unless it is to someone she respects. Anyone she deems lower than she fails to will anger her greatly. She is also very vengeful, always remembering those who wronged her. She is also stupid and ignorant of other people's feelings. Deep down she wants to be loved, and will show this love in her own strange way.

Background: Azir was an orphan because humans killed her parents while she was young. Because of this, she had to fend for herself against the harshness of nature. She would foredge for food, mostly hunting animals or eating wild berries and getting into constant battles with humans, elves, and the occasional dwarves. During this time, she had acquired a taste for flesh. She was partaking in cannibalism, especially enjoying the flesh of human children. In her adulthood, she would murder people and eat their bodies when she would get hungry. These crimes would become noticeable as she started killing a lot of farmers and their livestock. She also was an aggravation to the public and lived in a shack in a swamp by herself.

One day, she met another ogre, Edzar, who would eventually become her mate. The two of them lived together for a long time. Eventually, Edzar taught Azir how to fight with her fists and a club. One day, while they were hunting, Edzar was killed by a group of the king’s knights. Azir flew into a rage and killed most knights before being captured and sent to prison. Being angry, she lost her mate as well as her baby from a miscarriage.

Talents: Azir is somewhat skilled at fighting and using a blunt weapon and axes, although she primarily uses brute strength to defend herself. She is also incredibly strong and has the strength of fifty men. She is also skilled in hunting and cooking.

Flaws: Azir fears opening up to others because she doesn’t want to lose the people she cares for. Her violent and bullish nature makes it hard for her to befriend them. She is slow in combat, so someone could easily outpace her. She also fears being seen as weak in front of other people. Her vices include food and alcohol. Because she has no formerly education she is a little slow and ignorant. Speaking in short grammerly incorrect sentances.

Equipment: A club and a flask of homemade alcohol.

Miscellaneous: Her theme-Baki OST- Crazy Spec

Sariel

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Name

Sariel Amastacia

Race

High Elf

Gender

Female

Age

27

Appearance

A high elf, touched by the slow beginnings of undeath, Sariel is said to have been cursed by her close association with the undead. Her skin is pale, her hair midnight, and her eyes seem almost to glow with a cold, baleful blue light. Hidden beneath a layer of fabric, her right arm is skeletal, and moves through arcane means.

The light of the elves has begun to fade from her being. Warm joy now turning to cool detachment. Sariel moves no longer with the effortless grace of her people, but with the ghostly agility of the undead. Her visage has become that of a fell apparition, conjured from the depths of some long forgotten tomb.

Personality

Sariel is a creature driven by her singular obsession with understanding the cosmic forces of life, death and undeath. Marked by her studies, her emotions have been tempered by the wisdom of the grave. She feels all that she once did, but she notes a growing detachment in her passions and a cold chill that has begun to envelope her soul.

Far from menacing in most situations, Sariel is polite, kind even, if permitted such graces by the situation or those she encounters. She knows that many fear her. She knows that many revile her. She holds little hope for reconciliation. The Maw is proof enough of the paltry mercy offered by the kingdom. Sariel does not deceive herself. She sees no advantage in such desperate deception. They will not free her, all know this to be true, but the dead counsel her to be patient, and Sariel intends to heed their whispers.

Imprisonment has done little to dampen her confidence. However, Sariel remains far from reckless and the dark, damp cell in which they have left her has only sent her gaze further inwards. Even in the Maw there are dead to speak to. They can take her arcane components. They can take her possessions. And they can take her beloved grimoire. Sariel does not dispute this. Yet, a wizard, a necromancer, a true seeker of the truths that lie beyond death itself cannot be so easily dissuaded.

In happier times, Sariel was disagreeable only when faced with the ignorant and those quick to judge her for her vocation, reviled as it is across the land. For all her differences with her kin, she still possesses the storied charm of the elves, transformed as it has been into the dread presence of the grave. She navigates social interactions in the Maw with unexpected ease for a wizard with a habit of engaging in lengthy conversations with the dead.

Uninterested in tradition wreathed in ceremonial judgment, Sariel is unconcerned with the social mores and taboos that would restrict her practice of necromancy. In turn, she would happily offer others the same freedom and keeps an open mind.

Background

Talents

Spell Caster with a Capital S - Sariel is no mere hedge wizard, no unstudied practitioner of magic, and no unrestrained spellcaster. No, she is a wizard, a true wizard, a supreme magic-user who draws on the subtle weave of magic that permeates the very cosmos to cast powerful spells.

Necromancer - Sariel is a necromancer, a feared and hated wizard concerned chiefly with mastering the school of necromancy magic. Her spells manipulate the power of death, unlife, and the life force that animates all living creatures.

Arcane Scholar - Deeply concerned with the underlying mechanics and nature of magic, Sariel is an ardent student of the arcane. She seeks to uncover arcane secrets through extensive studies, even trapped as she currently is in the hellish pit of the Maw. Steeped in the writings of mages past and the cryptic advice of the undead, Sariel possesses an extensive knowledge of arcane lore and history of the realm.

Flaws

Necromancer's Stubborn Pride - Sariel is prideful, convinced of her own righteousness, how else could she wander a path that most perceive as leading only to inescapable damnation? Her pursuit of arcane knowledge has grown beyond mere obsession and Sariel is unwilling, perhaps unable, to consider the dangers inherent to such unwavering single-mindedness.

Undead Torpor - At times, Sariel appears to be wracked by the apathy often identified in the spirits of the dead. The concerns of the living no longer seem quite as important to her. The petty squabbles and bloody wars of the narrow-minded now seem beneath her enlightened mind. Even death has begun to feel like an old, familiar friend, rather than something she should be afraid of. Rousing Sariel from such musings and moods can require significant effort.

Still Human - Besides a skeletal arm and her slow transformation into something undead, Sariel remains distinctly mortal, a noticeable disadvantage when compared to some of the other prisoners in the Maw.

Equipment

Taken from her when they tossed her into the Maw, Sariel's arcane grimoire contains the culmination of her study of necromancy. It is no exaggeration to say that Sariel would do anything to recover her ancient tome. She can see the silver ruins inlaid into the black leather cover in her dreams.

Another of her prized possession lost to her jailers was a bag of holding containing a number of arcane components and small items of comfort.

Predictably, her guards also took away her ornate silver dagger, an enchanted blade that courses with the souls of more than one willing sacrifice.

Her final piece of confiscated property is a long robe, a gift from a patient demilich amused by her questions. An elegant garment made from exquisite black cloth, woven into the robe are protective magics far beyond mortal understanding.

Miscellaneous