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[CHAR] Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP
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- GM VitaVitaAR Co-GM Raineh Daze
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VitaVitaAR King of Knights
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4 hrs ago
GM
VitaVitaAR King of Knights
Member
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4 hrs ago
- Name: Fanilly Danbalion
- Age: 16
- Gender: Female
- Race: Human
- Appearance: Armored, Unarmored. She is 5'1, with pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Her armor is silver with gold decorations. Her sword has a golden hilt.
- Personality: Fanilly is one to take her duty seriously. This is both due to a belief in the cause of the Iron Rose Knights, and a severe insecurity and self-consciousness about her position. She is well aware that she is young and comparatively inexperienced. She knows that she is only in the position she is because of her birth, as she was born under a full moon. This only makes her feel worse about it. For Fanilly Danbalion, captain of the Iron Rose Knights, she can't help but feel that they have a point. She's young. And even though the founder was the same age, she was viewed as something miraculous, almost a saint. Should Fanilly truly be leading them? This weighs heavily on her mind, and thus one of her biggest desires is to prove that she is. In spite of her young age, in spite of how this tradition has worn thin for some, Fanilly wants to prove that she is a worthy captain of the Iron Rose Knights above all else. Aside from this desire, the girl is somewhat socially awkard, sometimes unprepared for conversation. However, she is not really shy and can generally deal with attending various functions in the capital, as is expected of the Iron Rose Knights. She is dedicated to the purpose of the order, to defend the innocent and protect the land of Thaln. However, the doubts surrounding her have lead to a lack of confidence in herself. Fanilly has a younger sister and as a result has a somewhat stronger affinity for children and desire to keep the safe, but as someone dedicated to the Iron Rose Knights' cause she wishes to protect all those in need. While she has a lacking in confidence, she retains some pride in her training, as she has proven to be skilled at swordplay in spite of her youth.
- Brief Backstory: Fanilly was a daughter of the Danbalion family, a noble family already. While they had never been knights, her birth on a full moon immediately made her a potential future candidate for the Iron Rose Knights' captain. She was simply needed sooner then many expected. And so she experienced training for several years leading up to her instatement as the Captain of the Iron Rose Knights. Initially she was confident in herself, but it quickly became clear that even some within the Knights had grown tired of the tradition of selecting a maiden born on a full moon to be the captain. This wore on her quickly, and has lead to her desperation to prove herself.
- Equipment: Fanilly wears a well-made set of somewhat ornate armor. She wields a fine longsword in her right hand and a dagger with a curved hilt for trapping weapons in her left.
- Skills: Fanilly has experienced extensive training in swordplay, specifically in the use of a longsword in both hands, or paired with a unique parrying dagger.
Themerlinhawk Aegis Kai Doru
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
Name: Valdoth Thorn (Native Name), Sir Garrett (Use Name)
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: Standing at an imposing 6’ 5” and weighing in at 220 pounds of hardened jovial muscle Garrett is clearly not of a civilized background.
Personality: Garrett is straightforward, blunt and honest as they come; which often gets him into trouble with nobility civilization. With a more or less easy nature the Barbarian sees little reason not to befriend those who live, love and fight honestly around him. Everything Garrett has was won with the might of his arm or the might of his mind. Despite the rumors about the intelligence of the hill barbarian tribe’s intelligence; Garrett is actually a rather smart individual although his upbringing shows in his lack of eloquent speech. While he is often seen as a headstrong and prideful individual Garrett is perfectly capable of deferring to those in positions of prestige above him or who he views as more knowledgeable or capable than he is. The exception to Garrett’s fairly easygoing nature is magic. As far as the Knight Barbarian is concerned magic is a cheat and a means for people to find power over those they shouldn’t, and as a result Garrett looks down on any form of magic.
On the Battlefield Garrett is not the kind of person who directs or plans; Garrett is a leader by action and can be found at the front line of a conflict taking the fight to the enemies of the Iron Rose Knights. With the ascension of the new Captain Garrett has yet to formulate an opinion of the politics centered around the sixteen year old taking command of the Knights. For Garrett, being able to serve with the Knights was a lifelong endeavour that finally came to fruition. For the Knight Barbarian the new Captain has every right to command the Knights as it is tradition, anyone who speaks ill of her or her ascension is met with stony glares from the huge knight.
Brief Backstory:
Raised in the hills of Velt in the tradition of the hill barbarians Garrett grew up Valdoth Thorn the second son of the Skildren line of elevated Barbarians. Six of the Barbarian clans took up the mantle of nobility on the point of their swords over a hundred years ago. After this rise the clans spit on tradition and continued to maintain a semi nomadic life style. Raising castles and townships throughout the hills beneath the Cahladren Mountain range the clans created a new type of society that produced children who were versed in the culture of the hills and plains with an edge of refinement that only society can give you.
Garrett grew up in one of the nomadic groups which traveled between three of his family's homes in the foothills of the Cahladren Mountains. From an early age he learned horsemanship, archery and the art of war from his father and his father's Barbarian Knights. On the advent of his eighteenth birthday Garrett was sent forth to seek his fortune with the Iron Rose Knights. Since the day of his birth Garrett was raised on a diet of stories about Thaln and the Iron Rose Knights. With a goal in mind the young Barbarian trained long and hard before he finally made his way from the foothills of the Cahladren Mountains in the land of Thaln where he petitioned to be a member of the Iron Rose Knights. A year later he was accepted as a Knight and for the next nine years he would serve with honor, loyalty and ferocity.
Equipment:
Mounted:
Disregarding the lance in favor of his clan's large heavy Khopesh, throwing spears and short horn bow Garrett is a force to be reckoned with on horse back.
On Foot:
Garrett favors a heavy hand and a half War Maul with can easily be wielded two handed or one handed as Garrett prefers to use it in conjunction with a large steel kite shield.
Garrett’s armor is an heirloom of his clan and was a gift on his eighteenth birthday. The armor is crafted in such a way that it allows for easy mounting and dismounting of his horse.
Mount:
A life long companion Garrett’s chestnut stallion, Gravel, in a heavy tough warhorse raised for stamina and power allowing it to wade into advancing infantry as well as maintain a steady pace over long distances. This breed of horse is a favorite of the hill tribes for its size and stamina.
Skills:
Archer: Garrett is an accomplished short ranged mounted archer.
Horsemanship: All but born in the saddle Garrett is an incredibly skilled rider
Heavy Weaponry: While he lacks the advanced sword play of his more civilized peers Garrett makes up for it in his use of devastating heavy weapons ranging from the Heavy cavalry Khopesh to vicious weighted battle axes.
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: Standing at an imposing 6’ 5” and weighing in at 220 pounds of hardened jovial muscle Garrett is clearly not of a civilized background.
Personality: Garrett is straightforward, blunt and honest as they come; which often gets him into trouble with nobility civilization. With a more or less easy nature the Barbarian sees little reason not to befriend those who live, love and fight honestly around him. Everything Garrett has was won with the might of his arm or the might of his mind. Despite the rumors about the intelligence of the hill barbarian tribe’s intelligence; Garrett is actually a rather smart individual although his upbringing shows in his lack of eloquent speech. While he is often seen as a headstrong and prideful individual Garrett is perfectly capable of deferring to those in positions of prestige above him or who he views as more knowledgeable or capable than he is. The exception to Garrett’s fairly easygoing nature is magic. As far as the Knight Barbarian is concerned magic is a cheat and a means for people to find power over those they shouldn’t, and as a result Garrett looks down on any form of magic.
On the Battlefield Garrett is not the kind of person who directs or plans; Garrett is a leader by action and can be found at the front line of a conflict taking the fight to the enemies of the Iron Rose Knights. With the ascension of the new Captain Garrett has yet to formulate an opinion of the politics centered around the sixteen year old taking command of the Knights. For Garrett, being able to serve with the Knights was a lifelong endeavour that finally came to fruition. For the Knight Barbarian the new Captain has every right to command the Knights as it is tradition, anyone who speaks ill of her or her ascension is met with stony glares from the huge knight.
Brief Backstory:
Raised in the hills of Velt in the tradition of the hill barbarians Garrett grew up Valdoth Thorn the second son of the Skildren line of elevated Barbarians. Six of the Barbarian clans took up the mantle of nobility on the point of their swords over a hundred years ago. After this rise the clans spit on tradition and continued to maintain a semi nomadic life style. Raising castles and townships throughout the hills beneath the Cahladren Mountain range the clans created a new type of society that produced children who were versed in the culture of the hills and plains with an edge of refinement that only society can give you.
Garrett grew up in one of the nomadic groups which traveled between three of his family's homes in the foothills of the Cahladren Mountains. From an early age he learned horsemanship, archery and the art of war from his father and his father's Barbarian Knights. On the advent of his eighteenth birthday Garrett was sent forth to seek his fortune with the Iron Rose Knights. Since the day of his birth Garrett was raised on a diet of stories about Thaln and the Iron Rose Knights. With a goal in mind the young Barbarian trained long and hard before he finally made his way from the foothills of the Cahladren Mountains in the land of Thaln where he petitioned to be a member of the Iron Rose Knights. A year later he was accepted as a Knight and for the next nine years he would serve with honor, loyalty and ferocity.
Equipment:
Mounted:
Disregarding the lance in favor of his clan's large heavy Khopesh, throwing spears and short horn bow Garrett is a force to be reckoned with on horse back.
On Foot:
Garrett favors a heavy hand and a half War Maul with can easily be wielded two handed or one handed as Garrett prefers to use it in conjunction with a large steel kite shield.
Garrett’s armor is an heirloom of his clan and was a gift on his eighteenth birthday. The armor is crafted in such a way that it allows for easy mounting and dismounting of his horse.
Mount:
A life long companion Garrett’s chestnut stallion, Gravel, in a heavy tough warhorse raised for stamina and power allowing it to wade into advancing infantry as well as maintain a steady pace over long distances. This breed of horse is a favorite of the hill tribes for its size and stamina.
Skills:
Archer: Garrett is an accomplished short ranged mounted archer.
Horsemanship: All but born in the saddle Garrett is an incredibly skilled rider
Heavy Weaponry: While he lacks the advanced sword play of his more civilized peers Garrett makes up for it in his use of devastating heavy weapons ranging from the Heavy cavalry Khopesh to vicious weighted battle axes.
coGM
Raineh Daze Figure of Hourai
Member
Seen
2 days ago
- Name: Tyaethe Radastirin
- Age: 228
- Gender: Female
- Race: Sentient Undead (Human)
- Appearance: Though at one time as shiny and luminescent as pictured, Tyaethe's armour has lost much of its lustre due to a combination of two hundred years of constant use and an inability to perfectly clean it whilst in use. The result is a blurring of the intricate detailing on the paladin's shield and armour, and the shining metal is now a dull grey verging on black—when not coated in blood. It got cleaned. The scarf obscures how the throat is heavily armoured, beyond what one would expect of such an ensemble.
Though none still in the knights can say for certain what she looks like underneath all the armour, her eyes are clearly an unusually brilliant red and her hair white. Since the armour's on the intentionally bulky side and doesn't come off, it's not quite clear what Tyaethe's height is... though probably over six feet.Currently, she seems to be trapped in appearance as a child... though her armour's size doesn't quite mesh with the old paintings. - Personality: If there’s one thing that all her instructors tried to do, it was to cure Tyaethe of her temper. Fervour and determination in a battle is all well and good but carrying that attitude over to your everyday life? Despite their efforts, it was a fruitless endeavour and the tall paladin is as irascible as ever, though with enough self-control to avoid the worst outcomes.
At heart, Tyaethe is a dutiful knight and a good person. So despite her frequent anger, she has never once backed down on her duties or struck out at a child or someone truly innocent, even if rather aggressive verbally. Her unfaltering devotion to her duty—or anything else, as she seems too stubborn to ever back down—is best exemplified by her continued presence in the Iron Rose Knights, despite the drift from being a religious order.
Something more familiar to the newer recruits than the veterans is her sullenness and risk-taking. Not a behaviour always evident but at the same time a concerning trend, as if her patience for something is running out.
One trait carried over from her normal life is a dislike of being seen out of her armour. Since Elionne’s death, this has exacerbated into a full refusal to remove it for any reason short of their first captain’s return. Partly, at least, this is to prevent anyone from learning of her undeath and to preserve the idea of an immortal knight. - Brief Backstory: Tyaethe was born to a minor noble family and, as the only child, was expected to carry on the family’s duty as knights. To this end, at the age of seven, her education was entrusted to an important but highly religious duke that owed her father his life. It was for this reason that instead of continuing on to be a squire, the young Tyaethe pledged her service to the church and became a paladin.
As an adult, her strength and steadfast service was admirable, even though her hot-headed attitude caused friction with some of those she had to work with. It was for this reason that she was granted the honour of protecting the High Priestess and, when reports of an incoming force surfaced, left Falthir in order to conduct the fighting when she wouldn’t be at risk. Naturally, this backfired and it was only Elionne’s intervention that prevented the deception from being successful due to the diversion of the guards.
Owing the maiden for fulfilling her duty where she could not, Tyaethe swore to serve her in life and in death, second only to the goddesses. Part of the Iron Rose Knights since their inception, Tyaethe’s death came in a pitched battle where their foes managed to split herself, Elionne, and some less experienced knights from the majority of their comrades.
The reason for her survival has never been perfectly explained. Some of the knights assumed it was just sheer luck and the high level of mana in the region and the more religious assigned it to divine intervention. Some of her detractors have even accused Tyaethe of dabbling in necromancy. As for the paladin herself, she cites her oath and willpower, as well as a refusal to go down whilst Elionne was still in danger. The fact of her undeath has been kept a secret within the knights, to cultivate a reputation as an immortal holy warrior, though doubtless people have guessed the truth.
Tyaethe has been unsurprisingly steadily more bitter since the original captain left, wanting to know why and find out what happened. Despite this, she has faithfully explained new captains their duties and guided them through it, even as the knights have drifted further and further from the religious unit she joined. - Equipment: Forged nearly two hundred years before, the styling of Tyaethe’s armour is antiquated to say the least—though the decorations, obscured as they are, resemble the current pieces made on the behalf of the church. Few people can move efficiently in such weighty protection, let alone adjust to how it restricts movement in order to fight but even going for its vulnerabilities leads to a difficult time in scoring a fatal injury. Of particular note is the one addition made before Elionne left: a reinforced gorget, to make even accidental decapitation even less likely.
Her other armament consists of a sword that most refuse to treat as one and an immense shield. Both are as long as she is tall and the sword itself unreasonably broad and tough; it crushes as much as it actually cuts. The shield, scratched though the design is over the years, contains a wolf rampant in its design—a lesser-used Mayonite symbol.
All three pieces were blessed and enchanted to regenerate under moonlight, since even before Tyaethe’s death they took vast amounts of punishment and repairing them manually was prohibitively costly. - Skills: Raised as a member of the nobility and intended to become a far more ordinary knight, Tyaethe knows falconry, board games, how to ride, and the social graces needed for polite company. All of these skills, save the riding—and that relies on draught horses in her case—are incredibly rusty skills due to neglect. Her literacy and ability to recite scripture on a whim, due to her training as a paladin, are as strong as ever.
In combat, Tyaethe’s immense strength and armour leads to an approach best likened to an oncoming tide: she’s not the most agile or that hard to hit but actually stopping her or resisting the offence is futile. Her speed can also be deceptive; she chooses to adopt a slow approach for psychological reasons and is more than capable of surging forwards to strike down a threat. Though a shield might seem redundant with such armour, she happily uses it as a second weapon or to force an opening from someone hoping to budge her defence.
With over a century of experience on her side and an initial training in the arts of warfare, Tyaethe is also a valuable tactical and strategic source—provided that you ask her opinion when she’s not agitated in some manner and ensure that the reason Tyaethe suggests she be put in the thick of it is due to needing an immovable obstacle.
Katrina Carlus
Name: Katrina Carlus
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance:
Personality: Katrina is a blunt, brusque, and boisterous girl. She is the type to get into a lot of fights, but not necessarily out of choice; she just ends up picking a lot due to being irreverent, easily offended and highly competitive. If she’s given a good reason to hate someone, she will hold a grudge over it for a long time, and is far too stubborn to try and reconcile. She isn’t incapable of making friends and being friendly, but she’s easily provoked and difficult to approach. Anyone attempting to make friends with her will need the patience of a saint, if they even think it’s worth the trouble.
While she may not seem like it, she is a true believer in the cause of the Knights of the Iron Rose. If you strip away several layers of caustic cynicism, you’ll find a person that sincerely wants to help the weak and do right by others. Her desire to help is usually expressed in the manner of a Reonite; that she wants to smite evildoers with all the might in her arms. She would only rarely admit to having a more personal motivation to actually help people.
Brief Backstory: Katrina comes from a poor background in one of Thaln’s major cities. She grew up in a large slum where crime and poverty were rife. As a small girl, she often witnessed many scenes of criminals and the like preying on weaker citizens, shaking them down for all the crumbs they had on them. Her own family was no exception to this, and their home was robbed many times in her youth. It was here that her anger grew, along with her desire to do something about all this injustice. As she got older, she began to fight a lot, learning to fight practically rather than through instruction. She gathered a small reputation for her assaults on the criminals of the slums, and this was how she was noticed by a knight of the Iron Rose, who wanted to introduce her to their order. Having grown up hearing stories of the knights, she had always idolised them, and was all too eager to join.
Her entry into the order was met with a mixed reception. Few could doubt her ability, especially as she developed further with proper instruction. Her dedication was certainly not in question, as she was more than ready to take up the cause of the knights. But she did not fit in well with the more traditional, hierarchical elements of the order, and she had no love for its antiquated traditions. She conflicted heavily with the aristocratic recruits of the order that weren’t prepared to look past her background. While she could care less about the politics of succession, she certainly wishes for the order to flourish, and so she will be watching closely as to how the fresh command of the Knights of Iron Rose fares.
Equipment: Katrina’s armour is lighter than most knights, though still fashioned from iron plates. Her weapon of choice is a double sword that she acquired during her time as a knight.
Skills: Katrina is like a rushing bull in combat, attempting to use a mixture of speed and power to overwhelm her opponent at close quarters. Her training has geared her towards making use of her unique weapon almost exclusively. This also means she’s a bit inflexible in a fight.
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance:
Personality: Katrina is a blunt, brusque, and boisterous girl. She is the type to get into a lot of fights, but not necessarily out of choice; she just ends up picking a lot due to being irreverent, easily offended and highly competitive. If she’s given a good reason to hate someone, she will hold a grudge over it for a long time, and is far too stubborn to try and reconcile. She isn’t incapable of making friends and being friendly, but she’s easily provoked and difficult to approach. Anyone attempting to make friends with her will need the patience of a saint, if they even think it’s worth the trouble.
While she may not seem like it, she is a true believer in the cause of the Knights of the Iron Rose. If you strip away several layers of caustic cynicism, you’ll find a person that sincerely wants to help the weak and do right by others. Her desire to help is usually expressed in the manner of a Reonite; that she wants to smite evildoers with all the might in her arms. She would only rarely admit to having a more personal motivation to actually help people.
Brief Backstory: Katrina comes from a poor background in one of Thaln’s major cities. She grew up in a large slum where crime and poverty were rife. As a small girl, she often witnessed many scenes of criminals and the like preying on weaker citizens, shaking them down for all the crumbs they had on them. Her own family was no exception to this, and their home was robbed many times in her youth. It was here that her anger grew, along with her desire to do something about all this injustice. As she got older, she began to fight a lot, learning to fight practically rather than through instruction. She gathered a small reputation for her assaults on the criminals of the slums, and this was how she was noticed by a knight of the Iron Rose, who wanted to introduce her to their order. Having grown up hearing stories of the knights, she had always idolised them, and was all too eager to join.
Her entry into the order was met with a mixed reception. Few could doubt her ability, especially as she developed further with proper instruction. Her dedication was certainly not in question, as she was more than ready to take up the cause of the knights. But she did not fit in well with the more traditional, hierarchical elements of the order, and she had no love for its antiquated traditions. She conflicted heavily with the aristocratic recruits of the order that weren’t prepared to look past her background. While she could care less about the politics of succession, she certainly wishes for the order to flourish, and so she will be watching closely as to how the fresh command of the Knights of Iron Rose fares.
Equipment: Katrina’s armour is lighter than most knights, though still fashioned from iron plates. Her weapon of choice is a double sword that she acquired during her time as a knight.
Skills: Katrina is like a rushing bull in combat, attempting to use a mixture of speed and power to overwhelm her opponent at close quarters. Her training has geared her towards making use of her unique weapon almost exclusively. This also means she’s a bit inflexible in a fight.
PKMNB0Y Archer Inferno
Member
Seen
24 min ago
Name: Tiral Yevan
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: Standing at about 5'9" tall, Tiral has a fairly average build for his age, which is kind of strange considering how he's perpetually surrounded by the other Iron Rose Knights who seem to be much sturdier than he. His light brown hair is cut short, but has found a way of remaining a shaggy mess that barely avoids his eyes, even while he is wearing armor. More often than not, though, Tiral opts to avoid the usage of any large plate armor or metal armor, instead only wearing stronger equipment over his vitals and leaving the rest under regular leather garb. His sword will often times be sheathed at his side, ready for combat at a moment's notice.
Personality: Tiral is... Actually fairly deliberate for a knight, if not somewhat bored by the peace of everyday life. His journeys at a young age meant he was already able to experience life in the real world, and since then the dusty old libraries that the mages hold in such high regard have been... Well, fairly dull. This doesn't mean that he isn't devoted to his work, but rather that he does not wish to learn anything unless he finds it interesting. Even so, his patience when it comes to such things is unparalleled. Or maybe it's just the fact that he can slap some ice onto people's mouths when he's trying to focus. That too.
Brief Backstory: Having been orphaned a young age due to an illness that wiped out the rest of his village, Tiral was taken in by a priestess of Mayon who was moving with a group of travelers to bring aid to those in need. Though he was never explicitly religious, he greatly appreciated the efforts put forth to save his life, even then. As he grew up alongside these people, the priestess soon found that Tiral had an aptitude for magic. With a recommendation from her (and the goading of those around her), Tiral went off to the capital to further his studies of magic. Sadly, the monotonous life of a studying magician was not quite what the then-young boy had expected of magic.
It was then that he heard of the Iron Rose Knights, whose feats were oft recorded in the books he was forced to pore over. Deciding that the life of a knight was much more entertaining than the life of a magical scholar, Tiral packed up his things once more and went to join the order. Learning the sword came about as easily as magic did to him, but the combination of the two (and his somewhat strange insistence on learning both at once) made him particularly noteworthy among that year's recruits. Since then, Tiral has been honing his abilities, both magical and physical.
Equipment: Other than his rather 'unique' set of armor, Tiral wields a shortsword and a small ceremonial dagger. While the sword is standard-issue, the dagger is mainly used as a catalyst for some of Tiral's larger spells. It may be used as a glorified kitchen knife, but he'd probably never stand for that. More often than not, this dagger is tucked away in his shirt or under his breastplate, but it never leaves his person.
Skills: Contrary to many of his peers, Tiral has chosen not to solely specialize in the way of the blade; rather than just being proficient with his shortsword, Tiral is also proficient in the usage of magic in combat. This magic, focusing mainly on the manipulation on water and ice, has become particularly noteworthy for those who are particularly religious. He, quite frankly, just sees it as sort of a coincidence; his specialty being water does not mean that anything was pre-ordained by the gods.
Probably.
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: Standing at about 5'9" tall, Tiral has a fairly average build for his age, which is kind of strange considering how he's perpetually surrounded by the other Iron Rose Knights who seem to be much sturdier than he. His light brown hair is cut short, but has found a way of remaining a shaggy mess that barely avoids his eyes, even while he is wearing armor. More often than not, though, Tiral opts to avoid the usage of any large plate armor or metal armor, instead only wearing stronger equipment over his vitals and leaving the rest under regular leather garb. His sword will often times be sheathed at his side, ready for combat at a moment's notice.
Personality: Tiral is... Actually fairly deliberate for a knight, if not somewhat bored by the peace of everyday life. His journeys at a young age meant he was already able to experience life in the real world, and since then the dusty old libraries that the mages hold in such high regard have been... Well, fairly dull. This doesn't mean that he isn't devoted to his work, but rather that he does not wish to learn anything unless he finds it interesting. Even so, his patience when it comes to such things is unparalleled. Or maybe it's just the fact that he can slap some ice onto people's mouths when he's trying to focus. That too.
Brief Backstory: Having been orphaned a young age due to an illness that wiped out the rest of his village, Tiral was taken in by a priestess of Mayon who was moving with a group of travelers to bring aid to those in need. Though he was never explicitly religious, he greatly appreciated the efforts put forth to save his life, even then. As he grew up alongside these people, the priestess soon found that Tiral had an aptitude for magic. With a recommendation from her (and the goading of those around her), Tiral went off to the capital to further his studies of magic. Sadly, the monotonous life of a studying magician was not quite what the then-young boy had expected of magic.
It was then that he heard of the Iron Rose Knights, whose feats were oft recorded in the books he was forced to pore over. Deciding that the life of a knight was much more entertaining than the life of a magical scholar, Tiral packed up his things once more and went to join the order. Learning the sword came about as easily as magic did to him, but the combination of the two (and his somewhat strange insistence on learning both at once) made him particularly noteworthy among that year's recruits. Since then, Tiral has been honing his abilities, both magical and physical.
Equipment: Other than his rather 'unique' set of armor, Tiral wields a shortsword and a small ceremonial dagger. While the sword is standard-issue, the dagger is mainly used as a catalyst for some of Tiral's larger spells. It may be used as a glorified kitchen knife, but he'd probably never stand for that. More often than not, this dagger is tucked away in his shirt or under his breastplate, but it never leaves his person.
Skills: Contrary to many of his peers, Tiral has chosen not to solely specialize in the way of the blade; rather than just being proficient with his shortsword, Tiral is also proficient in the usage of magic in combat. This magic, focusing mainly on the manipulation on water and ice, has become particularly noteworthy for those who are particularly religious. He, quite frankly, just sees it as sort of a coincidence; his specialty being water does not mean that anything was pre-ordained by the gods.
Probably.
Name: Juliana Rose Silvern
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance: Her Armor. Juliana stands at 5'7" and has a smaller bust than in the picture XD. Also when not wearing her armor, wears clothing much more suitable for nobles like dresses and such.
Personality: Her loyalty to her family is absolute and she would do nearly anything to bring honor to their name. She is also a firm believer in the Iron Rose Knight’s duty to protect and serve. The weak are to be protected and it is the strong’s duty to be defenders; therefore, when someone who is weak is trying to protect the results can be disastrous. This belief makes Juliana feel that the inexperienced Fanilly is unfit to be captain and so someone more suited to the task should take her place, like herself.
Raised in a noble household Juliana knows the art of ‘masks’ yet is not afraid to let her feelings be known. Her distain for the old traditional way of choosing a captain is hardly veiled, but she will not let those feelings get in the way of her knightly duties. She can seem full of herself at times but she genuinely wants what is best for her country and wants to protect people with all her heart.
Brief Backstory: Juliana was born to the noble household of Silvern, a very prominent family in Thaln. Their noble ‘stock’ grew after the rebellion of Phoran Cal as they were one of the greatest supporters of the Iron Rose Knights. The Silvern household has kept its affairs close to the Iron Rose Knights and while they support the knights fully, they also are very staunch supporters for doing away with the old tradition of choosing the captain from young girls born under a full moon.
Her family had planned to give birth to her under a full moon but due to some complications in birth she was born as the moon started waning again. The idea had been to get a girl into the position first; making it rather easy to change the system from within, but this was not to be the case. Still her parents were not about to give up and so started to raise her up to be the next captain despite the fact that by tradition she was no longer eligible for the position.
Raised with the best tutors nobles could buy, Juliana was molded into a great warrior and noble. Being devout followers of Mayon Juliana found herself gravitating toward the paladins of Mayon and incorporated their more defensive type battle style into her own. While her training was focused on the battlefield she did not neglect her noble daughter duties and is accomplished in the political field as well. Her parents made sure to give their daughter the opportunity to grow socially as well so as to gather favor with the other nobles to strengthen her position.
Equipment: Juliana wears ornamented plate armor with chainmail mesh underneath to increase mobility and reduce friction. Her standard equipment is a large shield in her left and a long sword in her right
Skills: Juliana has been taught the traditional art of sword and shield with an emphasis being on using the shield effectively to punish her opponents while defending herself. Bashing, parrying, or even just pushing her opponent with her large shield are integral parts of her training then using her sword to finish off her opponent.
Outside of combat she is an accomplished dancer, socialite, and rider. Essentially skills designed to make her look like the ideal noblewoman and captain material.
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance: Her Armor. Juliana stands at 5'7" and has a smaller bust than in the picture XD. Also when not wearing her armor, wears clothing much more suitable for nobles like dresses and such.
Personality: Her loyalty to her family is absolute and she would do nearly anything to bring honor to their name. She is also a firm believer in the Iron Rose Knight’s duty to protect and serve. The weak are to be protected and it is the strong’s duty to be defenders; therefore, when someone who is weak is trying to protect the results can be disastrous. This belief makes Juliana feel that the inexperienced Fanilly is unfit to be captain and so someone more suited to the task should take her place, like herself.
Raised in a noble household Juliana knows the art of ‘masks’ yet is not afraid to let her feelings be known. Her distain for the old traditional way of choosing a captain is hardly veiled, but she will not let those feelings get in the way of her knightly duties. She can seem full of herself at times but she genuinely wants what is best for her country and wants to protect people with all her heart.
Brief Backstory: Juliana was born to the noble household of Silvern, a very prominent family in Thaln. Their noble ‘stock’ grew after the rebellion of Phoran Cal as they were one of the greatest supporters of the Iron Rose Knights. The Silvern household has kept its affairs close to the Iron Rose Knights and while they support the knights fully, they also are very staunch supporters for doing away with the old tradition of choosing the captain from young girls born under a full moon.
Her family had planned to give birth to her under a full moon but due to some complications in birth she was born as the moon started waning again. The idea had been to get a girl into the position first; making it rather easy to change the system from within, but this was not to be the case. Still her parents were not about to give up and so started to raise her up to be the next captain despite the fact that by tradition she was no longer eligible for the position.
Raised with the best tutors nobles could buy, Juliana was molded into a great warrior and noble. Being devout followers of Mayon Juliana found herself gravitating toward the paladins of Mayon and incorporated their more defensive type battle style into her own. While her training was focused on the battlefield she did not neglect her noble daughter duties and is accomplished in the political field as well. Her parents made sure to give their daughter the opportunity to grow socially as well so as to gather favor with the other nobles to strengthen her position.
Equipment: Juliana wears ornamented plate armor with chainmail mesh underneath to increase mobility and reduce friction. Her standard equipment is a large shield in her left and a long sword in her right
Skills: Juliana has been taught the traditional art of sword and shield with an emphasis being on using the shield effectively to punish her opponents while defending herself. Bashing, parrying, or even just pushing her opponent with her large shield are integral parts of her training then using her sword to finish off her opponent.
Outside of combat she is an accomplished dancer, socialite, and rider. Essentially skills designed to make her look like the ideal noblewoman and captain material.
AtomicNut Abusive Contractor
Member
Seen
3 days ago
- Name:Sult Sunfield
- Age:19
- Gender: Female
- Race: Human
- Appearance:
She usually favours elegant dresses and hair decorations when as a civilian. She's 5'6'' and she has a toned but curved figure under the armor. - Personality: Sult likes to project an aura of sophistication and erudiction around her, talking in obscure terms and taking each task with grace and effectiveness, displaying confidence and wariness at equal parts. Pff, as if. In truth, Sult only keeps a civil, graceful appearance, because it makes people to lower the guards around her. A mover and a shaker, she spares no chance to twist and bend rules and decorum in often strange, and amusing ways. A trickster at heart, she often questions the ways of the world as they were. However, deep down, her inquisitive nature goes beyond her mere self-amusement in rogue antics, and a genuine care to learn and discern the truths of the world is apparent. While not the first, nor the quickest knight to defend the weak and the innocent, Sult's heart is in the right place when it comes down to it. Innocents and weak people should be protected and helped, rules be damned.
- Brief Backstory: Sult is the third daughter of a renowned aristocrat family with ties to the Reonite clergy in Thain, the August House of the Sunfield, which has produced many fine warriors, paladins and priestesses. Sult was suppossed to be one of the latter, and she was strictly groomed as an erudite and an example of virtue and charisma... which prompted a huge rebellious streak in the young child who would waste no chance in crossing lines and limits, all for the sake of breaking the monotony. Even though she was by no means unskilled nor dull (more like the opposite), she rarely found joy in being told to recite and drone dusty old books, and wished for a more hands on approach.
Of course, spiking the wine of the High Priestesses with some distilled spirits was a bit too much to evaluate the effects of inebriation on people's character.
Sult became a blight, a stain to her family's name after she was unceremonously expelled from the congregation she attended to, so they decided to play their next card. Token in a political marriage, hoping that the miracle of love could tame the little mischievous but comely missy. Fools. Sult's mischievousness only increased, as she often made possible prospects jump through hoops only to reject them and laugh at their faces. It eventually backfired, though, and Sult was poisoned by a scorned pretender, finding herself in the gates of death. Sult had an epiphany in her dire situation, and she made a promise to become a better person should she survive.
Of course, Sult's decision to enter the Iron Rose Order was met in equal parts with surprise and suspicion. Her mischievous past and the omen of being born under a new moon (and thus the antithesis of the order's founder and successive captains) came to bit her in the back, and she almost didn't make it, but eventually her flawless apellation and the old name of her family earned her a spot in the order. (That and clubbing some poor fella's face with the hilt of her sword in a duel.)
Nowadays, Sult is still the same mischief maker as ever, but hey, she tries and serves the order defending the weak. She admits she had expected the order to have more pretty boys to play, but girls aren't a bad alternative option. She purposefully endorses and follows the current captain of the order because, let's face it, a sixteen year old ordering seasones veterans is downright hilarious. - Equipment: She wears a fine ornate plate, as well as a arming sword. She is sensible to carry her shield to battles, but otherwise finds it to be rather cumbersome. Plus, the color isn't exactly matching. She also carries a first aid pouch whenever she goes. She also keeps a dagger at her hip. Because a sword isn't a handy tool nor backup weapon.
- Skills:While Sult can pass off as a decent knight trained in sword and shield fighting, horseriding and archery, she doesn't know much more besides the average and basics. Sult is however deftly skilled in reading people's intentions and overall persuasion, which she uses to great effect to bluff all she wants when she wants. Just don't ask her to dance and sing. (She is tonedeaf!). Where it does really shine, however is in gathering knowledge. Sult is heavily cultured in Reonite theology and rites, History of the world and Military Strategy. Most important, she has honed her healing and herbalism skills in order to avoid being poisoned to death a second time, so she's a good thing to have around when you're bleeding. Even thought she hides it and is reluctant to do so, Sult is able to perform some Reonite priestess magic, like imposing hands to cure wounds, and create wards with the power of Reon. She can even coat her sword in divine fire, but the execution is very draining and causes all sorts of side effects like bloody noses, dizzyness and overall fatigue.
- Name:Sir Nero Sunfield
- Age:19
- Gender: Female
- Race: Human
- Appearance: 5'6"(5'8" in her armor), Nero bears a striking resemblance to her baby twin sister, and it is indistiguishable from Sult, besides her shorter, cropped hair (which was later proven an illusion of the armor). She wears a dreadful all black armor in battle, carved with a sun motif which has a black raven in the center, which disguises her gender.
- Personality: Nero, very much like her twin sister, is rather tricky in her ways and loves to play with people and the status quo. Unlike her sister, however, Nero has a clear drive beneath her tricky and clever nature, and she never makes a move without considering the implications and benefits. Ridden with an abysmal sense of inferiority as she struggled to match the path set forth by her overachiever family, and deeply resenting the squandered talent of her baby sister, deep down Nero is very cynical and bitter. She thinks the entire world is his enemy or pawn, and acts accordingly. However, people who have known Nero since her youth, notice that she is perhaps influenced by something darker.
- Brief Backstory:Nero, very much like her sister, was born the baby of the bunch among her siblings. Being the offspring of the second spouse of Lord Sunfield, Lady Irene Delacroix, Nero always felt rather unimportant and at sometimes mocked by their elder brothers and sisters. She actually took no small pride in her sister's selection and grooming for a priestess, knowing full well it could improve her status in the family by proxy, but unlike her, Sult was actually more interested into foolery than gaining personal status among the family. Feeling betrayed by one of the closest people to her in her entire family, Nero's mood quickly darkened as she watched the lackadaisical jester of her sister trounce every single plan set before her. Instead of helping her rise in status, she did the exact opposite thing. At this point, Nero turned to her own personal growth and training more ferouciously than ever.
After, who else would help her advance if her dear twin sister refused to even do so?
However it was soon clear that if he were to reach her fathers and sisters, she would need to eschew the usual knighting routes and ordinary warfare (going so far as to disguise her gender to not be compared to her sister), and her eyes turned to other ventures: Punitive expeditions. Monster slaying. Orc Tribe culling. Nero would each time answer the call to bring her blade to the darkest corners of the kingdoms, going whenever others would refuse to set foot.
On one of her expeditions, her party got ambushed by the reanimated remains of long forgotten creatures and warriors. The battle against the Barrow Men nearly killed her, but she emerged victorious, the only survivor of her entire expedition, after awakening her magical powers and donning a cursed armor. Her newfound power granted her confidence. Nothing was too dangerous or gruesome, as long as fortune and glory were to be had. The entire world was her battlefield, and it was her enemy as well. She rose in rank, by being the toughest, meanest of her fellows. Eventually, her exploits did not go unnoticed by his family or Thaln, and she was knighted in a fastous ceremony and granted the right to have her own score of troops, the Knights of the Raven.
It was then when she caught word that her little sister had eventually joined the Iron Rose Knights... - Equipment:
Nero wears a black-painted full plate, with the only identifiable markings being a raven overimposed a sun in the chest.The armor is itself a long-forgotten demonic artifact that feeds on her magic power and gives her unparallel might and skill with knightly weapons. She sports a hand-and-half bastard sword in combat, and she has a shield with the same Sun Raven sigil. However, Nero has three knives hidden in her shield and waist, as a surprise weapon. She also sports a Simple recurve bow in the back. - Skills:
Knight Training: Nero is able to use all knightly weapons with a certain degree of skill, like swords, lances, and bows. She can also use a shield and ride on horse sufficiently well enough. She is also versed in using knives. The powers of the demonic armor augment her strength and the speed, thus making her appear a master swordsman (in appearance and skill).
Martial Arts (Assasination): Sometimes, even the most virtuous knight has to drop all pretenses and just focus on straight-up killing a target in the most efficient way. Nero actually learned assasination skills from less-than-reputable peers which allow her to kill targets only using his body as weapon. Needless to say, Nero doesn't like to show up this skill in front of witness and reputable duels. Nero is also versed in employing poisons.
Magic: Nero, like her twin sister, has talent for holy and healing magic, although it remains largely untrained. It is what enables her to use the demonic item proficiently.
Cultured Strategist: Nero is well versed in History, and Martial Strategies. She also knows the importance of morale and charisma when leading troops.
Acting: Very much like Sult, Nero is good at feigning emotions and spinning lies. Hilariously enough, she shares her lack of rythm and tone-deaf skill when it comes to dancing and singing.
harinezumikouken Bloodstarved Beast
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
Name: Marianne V. Delacroix
Sex: Female
Age: 25
Race: Human
She has long raven hair as black as the night. Her skin is nearly as pale as snow in stark contrast to her hair, with deep dark-brown eyes. She stands at a height of 5'8 (177 cm) and weighs a solid 120 Lbs (55 kg). Her body is athletic and limber; hard won and earned from her rigorous training and conditioning from a young age.
Personality:
Skills/Talents:
Equipment/Weapons:
Biography:
Oddities/Quirks:
[All credit for the character artwork goes to Takayuki Tanaka!]
Sex: Female
Age: 25
Race: Human
She has long raven hair as black as the night. Her skin is nearly as pale as snow in stark contrast to her hair, with deep dark-brown eyes. She stands at a height of 5'8 (177 cm) and weighs a solid 120 Lbs (55 kg). Her body is athletic and limber; hard won and earned from her rigorous training and conditioning from a young age.
Personality:
Kind, courteous, and empathetic to others; she is generally warm and compassionate to all who meet her. She treats those who are in positions of authority with high regard, being well-mannered and respectful. Dedicated to her family and to the People, she has a strong sense of duty, justice, and liberty instilled within her. In the face of adversity and hardship, she stands as firm and strong as a mountain. Noble blood giving her a confident and prideful bearing, she carries herself with the air and grace befitting of someone of her status. Although raised to be a lady, she can be somewhat headstrong and stubborn in her beliefs. Sometimes, her ox-headed ways can make her come across as one with an overbearing personality, openly speaking her mind on whatever comes across. She has a strong sense of what is right and wrong, good and evil, though sadly she is not well-educated to the ways and goings-on of the world. Having been sheltered and 'protected' during her youth.
Skills/Talents:
Fencing/Swordsmanship - Adept with the blade, she typically aims for vital spots and organs using a thrusting/stabbing style of fighting. If unable to strike an enemy down quickly, she'll attempt to whittle them down. Disarming them however she can or working reduce the opponent's combat effectiveness. Not a purely offensive fighter, she can nimbly evade and counter using parries and ripostes with the grace of a dancer.
Archery - Though not as adept as she is with the blade, she has basic archery skills. Not the best marksman in the world, she can generally hit her target most of the time. Be they moving or stationary and only relatively close targets. High speed targets and targets at farther distances being rather difficult for her to track and engage.
Hand-to-hand combat - Should she ever find herself disarmed, she is not at a complete disadvantage in combat. Though lacking in physical strength as she specializes in agility and speed, she uses a basic fighting style with simple kicks, punches, elbows, and knees supplemented by a simple understanding of counters. Should she encounter an opponent much larger and physically stronger than her, she can quickly find herself overwhelmed in a prolonged engagement. Heavily armored foes are the bane of her existence. This is her weakest area.
Horse-riding/Mounted combat - Taught how to handle and ride a horse from a very young age, she can even conduct battle while mounted horse-back. Though, to a much lesser and reduced extent of course.
Sorcery/Magic: In the Delacroix family's attempts to rear and raise well-rounded and versatile knights, Marianne was taught the basic fundamentals of mana and how to use mana to create and weave spell casts. Though she is fascinated with the concepts of magic and desires to learn more, her best efforts thus far have only allowed her the ability to use one of two spells. The first being a straight upgrade to her swordsmanship, imbuing her weapon with the power of Lightning to increase the lethal effectiveness of her sword attacks. The second spell collecting and coalescing her mana to create an electrical orb of lightning with which she can form into a javelin to throw at distance targets. Both spells taking her considerable time to use as she only currently has the skill to use them after reciting relatively long incantations as opposed to a single word.
Lightning Blade - Touching and drawing her fingers across the flat of her sword, Marianne can imbue the power of lightning to the metal. Though it then glows white-hot and becomes wreathed in crackling arcs of electricity, the metal of her sword does not actually weaken and become malleable. Rather, the metal retains its base strength. A flat boost to her sword attacks, it allows her to deal increased damage against armored targets by amplifying her sword's piercing power. However, the spell only lasts a few minutes and for some reason or another Marianne can only it cast it once per day. She can even empower one of her ally's weapons, but at the cost of casting it for herself. Cuts and wounds caused by her blade do not bleed as they are instantly cauterized. Anyone foolish enough to touch her weapon is treated to intense electrical shocks, whilst she and she alone remains immune to such effects and can handle her sword safely. Being run through by a stab is enough to end most foes.
Lightning-bolt Javelin - Summoning and collecting electrical power within her body, Marianne can gather said power into a bright orb of light in the palm of her hand. Tightly crushing the orb, she then forms a throwing javelin capable of punching through most if not all non-enchanted armor. The javelin has the added bonus of a slight tracking/homing ability on armored targets and whether it finds a home within an unlucky foe's body or not, explodes on impact for small area of effect. However, this spell is not without its downsides. As this spell is currently Marianne's strongest ability, she can only cast it a few times a day before completely draining herself of mana. To add, its cast time is rather lengthy and requires time for her to recite her incantation before she could control it safely enough for usage. Typically she reserves this spell for only the most difficult enemy and requires the assistance of her allies to distract and protect her while she weaves the spell.
Continuing the list of negatives, this spell is rather fantastical. Emitting extreme amounts of bright light, intense heat, and creating a loud cacophony of raucous crackles, snaps, and hums. When let loose, the air cracks and booms with a sound similar to a thunderclap. Simply put, an intelligent and observant foe could see it from miles away. There is no stealthy nor fast method of casting this spell. That's not to say it's easily avoidable as its flight time and velocity is near instant and travels a straight trajectory. The worst part of it all, is that once cast the spell can no longer be controlled by Marianne. It is indiscriminate of its intended target be they friend or foe. Even during the casting period, Marianne must not be near her allies because of the dangerous volatile nature of this spell.
As a hilarious aside, the spell also has the unfortunate side effect of lingering sparks and arcs of electrical current to remain within Marianne's body. Causing her hair to become a wild, frizzy, and static-filled mess. A veritable pain to tame afterward.
Lightning Arrow - A relatively new spell she crafted during her training with comrade and fellow Iron Rose Knight Sir Tiral, its power comes from its versatility and efficiency. Very simply, she imbues her bow and arrows with her mana to fire lightning-charged projectiles. Its advantages over her regular javelin spell being its ability to be aimed more effectively, increased range, and numerous casts. Its disadvantages however being they take the 'regular' trajectory of a fired arrow, traveling in an arc and its lethality a fraction of what her hand-thrown javelins can output. However, the arrows increased piercing power and minature discharge on impact are still able to defeat nearly all non-enchanted conventional armor.
Archery - Though not as adept as she is with the blade, she has basic archery skills. Not the best marksman in the world, she can generally hit her target most of the time. Be they moving or stationary and only relatively close targets. High speed targets and targets at farther distances being rather difficult for her to track and engage.
Hand-to-hand combat - Should she ever find herself disarmed, she is not at a complete disadvantage in combat. Though lacking in physical strength as she specializes in agility and speed, she uses a basic fighting style with simple kicks, punches, elbows, and knees supplemented by a simple understanding of counters. Should she encounter an opponent much larger and physically stronger than her, she can quickly find herself overwhelmed in a prolonged engagement. Heavily armored foes are the bane of her existence. This is her weakest area.
Horse-riding/Mounted combat - Taught how to handle and ride a horse from a very young age, she can even conduct battle while mounted horse-back. Though, to a much lesser and reduced extent of course.
Sorcery/Magic: In the Delacroix family's attempts to rear and raise well-rounded and versatile knights, Marianne was taught the basic fundamentals of mana and how to use mana to create and weave spell casts. Though she is fascinated with the concepts of magic and desires to learn more, her best efforts thus far have only allowed her the ability to use one of two spells. The first being a straight upgrade to her swordsmanship, imbuing her weapon with the power of Lightning to increase the lethal effectiveness of her sword attacks. The second spell collecting and coalescing her mana to create an electrical orb of lightning with which she can form into a javelin to throw at distance targets. Both spells taking her considerable time to use as she only currently has the skill to use them after reciting relatively long incantations as opposed to a single word.
Lightning Blade - Touching and drawing her fingers across the flat of her sword, Marianne can imbue the power of lightning to the metal. Though it then glows white-hot and becomes wreathed in crackling arcs of electricity, the metal of her sword does not actually weaken and become malleable. Rather, the metal retains its base strength. A flat boost to her sword attacks, it allows her to deal increased damage against armored targets by amplifying her sword's piercing power. However, the spell only lasts a few minutes and for some reason or another Marianne can only it cast it once per day. She can even empower one of her ally's weapons, but at the cost of casting it for herself. Cuts and wounds caused by her blade do not bleed as they are instantly cauterized. Anyone foolish enough to touch her weapon is treated to intense electrical shocks, whilst she and she alone remains immune to such effects and can handle her sword safely. Being run through by a stab is enough to end most foes.
Lightning-bolt Javelin - Summoning and collecting electrical power within her body, Marianne can gather said power into a bright orb of light in the palm of her hand. Tightly crushing the orb, she then forms a throwing javelin capable of punching through most if not all non-enchanted armor. The javelin has the added bonus of a slight tracking/homing ability on armored targets and whether it finds a home within an unlucky foe's body or not, explodes on impact for small area of effect. However, this spell is not without its downsides. As this spell is currently Marianne's strongest ability, she can only cast it a few times a day before completely draining herself of mana. To add, its cast time is rather lengthy and requires time for her to recite her incantation before she could control it safely enough for usage. Typically she reserves this spell for only the most difficult enemy and requires the assistance of her allies to distract and protect her while she weaves the spell.
Continuing the list of negatives, this spell is rather fantastical. Emitting extreme amounts of bright light, intense heat, and creating a loud cacophony of raucous crackles, snaps, and hums. When let loose, the air cracks and booms with a sound similar to a thunderclap. Simply put, an intelligent and observant foe could see it from miles away. There is no stealthy nor fast method of casting this spell. That's not to say it's easily avoidable as its flight time and velocity is near instant and travels a straight trajectory. The worst part of it all, is that once cast the spell can no longer be controlled by Marianne. It is indiscriminate of its intended target be they friend or foe. Even during the casting period, Marianne must not be near her allies because of the dangerous volatile nature of this spell.
As a hilarious aside, the spell also has the unfortunate side effect of lingering sparks and arcs of electrical current to remain within Marianne's body. Causing her hair to become a wild, frizzy, and static-filled mess. A veritable pain to tame afterward.
Lightning Arrow - A relatively new spell she crafted during her training with comrade and fellow Iron Rose Knight Sir Tiral, its power comes from its versatility and efficiency. Very simply, she imbues her bow and arrows with her mana to fire lightning-charged projectiles. Its advantages over her regular javelin spell being its ability to be aimed more effectively, increased range, and numerous casts. Its disadvantages however being they take the 'regular' trajectory of a fired arrow, traveling in an arc and its lethality a fraction of what her hand-thrown javelins can output. However, the arrows increased piercing power and minature discharge on impact are still able to defeat nearly all non-enchanted conventional armor.
Equipment/Weapons:
Side sword - A long and thin steel blade suited for thrusting and stabbing. Slashes with this sword typically leave only shallow wounds, though its edge is sharp. Due to its thin size, it's prone to bending and flexing under moderate force.
Buckler - A small steel shield on her left forearm used for blocking light attacks and strikes. Against foes wielding large, heavy weapons her buckler can crumple and fail. Forcing her to rely on her evasive abilities as it is unable to withstand against brute force.
Takedown Recurve Bow & Belt Quiver - Broken down and kept collapsed in multiple parts in a leather case is Marianne's cherished bow. Able to be reconfigured with different limbs and strings to fit the situation at hand in mere seconds. She often jests that any time she hits a target that it was due to the blessings of the Mayonite Goddess, but it in all actuality has no such enchantments. She has an accompanying quiver with various arrowheads worn around her waist as opposed to her back for faster nocking of shots.
Light Plate Armor - She wears thin and light, but strong steel plate armor protecting most of her vital spots and joints while allowing her full range of motion and mobility. Unhindering to her agility and speed, if only marginally.
Buckler - A small steel shield on her left forearm used for blocking light attacks and strikes. Against foes wielding large, heavy weapons her buckler can crumple and fail. Forcing her to rely on her evasive abilities as it is unable to withstand against brute force.
Takedown Recurve Bow & Belt Quiver - Broken down and kept collapsed in multiple parts in a leather case is Marianne's cherished bow. Able to be reconfigured with different limbs and strings to fit the situation at hand in mere seconds. She often jests that any time she hits a target that it was due to the blessings of the Mayonite Goddess, but it in all actuality has no such enchantments. She has an accompanying quiver with various arrowheads worn around her waist as opposed to her back for faster nocking of shots.
Light Plate Armor - She wears thin and light, but strong steel plate armor protecting most of her vital spots and joints while allowing her full range of motion and mobility. Unhindering to her agility and speed, if only marginally.
Biography:
Raised from birth to be a proper lady, she tries to not let her noble lineage inflate her ego. She was trained to be an exceptionally skilled warrior with a true compassion for others and a thirst to serve her country and its people. With a desire to prove herself and bring honor to her family's name, she was born with an ironclad resolve. Having been raised in a loving and nurturing environment, it clearly shows in her daily interactions with others.
The Delacroix family being a rather eccentric and odd bunch, her family's order of succession is by competence particularly in general magical/combative skill, ability, and quality of character. Instead of by order of birth, age, or gender. Being the youngest of three, she has two older brothers who were unable to be held to the standard she set. Easily earning herself the title of 'Tet de la Croix' with the eventual passing of her father and mother, the Duke and Duchess of the Delacroix noble family respectively.
The noble Delacroix family has served the land of Thaln for generations, producing and providing honorable Knights from their bloodline to defend the people of the kingdom. A code of tradition is heavily upheld and reinforced within the family. Devout followers of Church of Reon, the Delacroix family heavily sides with the Iron Rose Knights and believe their existence completely necessary. Their current ways to remain unchanged and unchallenged. It was long ago decided that for the Delacroix family, to produce a Knight each generation that could be allowed induction into the Iron Roses was the highest honor. Once satisfied that a child of the family was of age and sufficiently trained, they would send them off on what they considered to be a pilgrimage in an attempt to be scouted by the Iron Roses and earn a chance to be knighted.
The Delacroix family being a rather eccentric and odd bunch, her family's order of succession is by competence particularly in general magical/combative skill, ability, and quality of character. Instead of by order of birth, age, or gender. Being the youngest of three, she has two older brothers who were unable to be held to the standard she set. Easily earning herself the title of 'Tet de la Croix' with the eventual passing of her father and mother, the Duke and Duchess of the Delacroix noble family respectively.
The noble Delacroix family has served the land of Thaln for generations, producing and providing honorable Knights from their bloodline to defend the people of the kingdom. A code of tradition is heavily upheld and reinforced within the family. Devout followers of Church of Reon, the Delacroix family heavily sides with the Iron Rose Knights and believe their existence completely necessary. Their current ways to remain unchanged and unchallenged. It was long ago decided that for the Delacroix family, to produce a Knight each generation that could be allowed induction into the Iron Roses was the highest honor. Once satisfied that a child of the family was of age and sufficiently trained, they would send them off on what they considered to be a pilgrimage in an attempt to be scouted by the Iron Roses and earn a chance to be knighted.
Oddities/Quirks:
The noble Delacroix family had long ago been established in the countryside of Thaln, she speaks with an odd throaty/nasal accent. Her speech punctuated with strange words from her native tongue that makes it difficult for some people to understand her dialect at times. The same going for her in her interactions with 'foreigners'.
Whenever she becomes emotional, she tends to lose a little restraint on her magical abilities and her body begins to collect and discharge large amounts of static electricity. Giving her a rather frightening appearance whenever angered as cascades of electrical arcs will travel erratically across her. It surely doesn't help that it also causes her hair to levitate, again a forsaken pain to deal with afterwards.
Whenever she becomes emotional, she tends to lose a little restraint on her magical abilities and her body begins to collect and discharge large amounts of static electricity. Giving her a rather frightening appearance whenever angered as cascades of electrical arcs will travel erratically across her. It surely doesn't help that it also causes her hair to levitate, again a forsaken pain to deal with afterwards.
During much of her youth, seven lovely girls were raised alongside Marianne. As Marianne matured into a fine young woman, as did they. Trained and taught to be exemplary maids for Marianne, there is no task or no chore they cannot accomplish ranging from simple cleaning, laundry, sewing, cooking, and even basic equipment maintenance to name a few of their skills. Also known as Marianne's Seven 'Deadly' Maids, this group of chatty women are known for their feverish enthusiasm and energy in nearly everything, especially when it comes to gossip and general rumors. 'Socially deadly' to anyone unable to keep up with their rapid-fire chatter and ruthless character examinations. Other than their voices, different facial features, and slight body-type differences, the seven women dress exactly alike. Down to even the way they wear their own makeup and hair making it hard to differentiate the seven from one another, though somehow Marianne is able to tell them apart.
Loyal vassal and attendent to Marianne, he was raised alongside her throughout her youth as with nearly all her servants. Almost always by her side whenever able, he is fiercely protective of the young woman. To the point of snarling and growling at anyone who bears not the name and bloodline of the Delacroix to drive them away with the threat of consumption. Though, even some of the Delacroix family are careful to tread softly around Marianne and her companion. The knowledge of his war compaigns only serving to deepen their horrifying dread of the canine.
Though his tribe of Direwolves are not commonly known to the people of Thaln, Sir Ricard is officially a Delacroix Knight and Captain of his own Direwolf Pack. A seasoned veteran of combat, he is no novice when it comes to brutal close-combat. His sheer size, strength, and speed allowing him to shrug off many minor attacks and even spells, his fighting style is quite literally eating his foes. Crushing them under his massive paws and ripping them apart in his giant maw with his sharp fangs, or via throwing his body around for bone-crushing slams and flesh-rending claw swipes.
Curiously, Sir Ricard's body appears to store a massive amount of mana, though he is unable to channel it and make use of it as spells. Acting as a sort of 'mana battery' for his comrades. He does not speak in any form or fashion, and yet his deep connection with the Delacroix Duchess of Lightning allows the two to somehow communicate effectively. Sir Ricard commanding base knowledge of the spoken human language.
Loyal vassal and attendent to Marianne, he was raised alongside her throughout her youth as with nearly all her servants. Almost always by her side whenever able, he is fiercely protective of the young woman. To the point of snarling and growling at anyone who bears not the name and bloodline of the Delacroix to drive them away with the threat of consumption. Though, even some of the Delacroix family are careful to tread softly around Marianne and her companion. The knowledge of his war compaigns only serving to deepen their horrifying dread of the canine.
Though his tribe of Direwolves are not commonly known to the people of Thaln, Sir Ricard is officially a Delacroix Knight and Captain of his own Direwolf Pack. A seasoned veteran of combat, he is no novice when it comes to brutal close-combat. His sheer size, strength, and speed allowing him to shrug off many minor attacks and even spells, his fighting style is quite literally eating his foes. Crushing them under his massive paws and ripping them apart in his giant maw with his sharp fangs, or via throwing his body around for bone-crushing slams and flesh-rending claw swipes.
Curiously, Sir Ricard's body appears to store a massive amount of mana, though he is unable to channel it and make use of it as spells. Acting as a sort of 'mana battery' for his comrades. He does not speak in any form or fashion, and yet his deep connection with the Delacroix Duchess of Lightning allows the two to somehow communicate effectively. Sir Ricard commanding base knowledge of the spoken human language.
[All credit for the character artwork goes to Takayuki Tanaka!]
Antediluvixen Kemonomimi Dystopia Creator
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
Name: Tarrya Khoroushi
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Personality: Tarrya has two personalities, one for the battlefield and one for... well, anything not the battlefield. On the battlefield she has no sense of humor and knows no mercy, expecting none in return. She speaks in a voice used to shouting over the din of war and has no tolerance for inefficiency. Out of her armor however, is a different matter altogether. She was raised by a scholarly mother, and like mother, like daughter. She spends her free time reading, usually. At odds with her battlefield persona, she's generally shy and reserved, happier spending her time in the pages of a book than carousing and drinking. That is not to say she avoids other people altogether, and a good, thought provoking conversation is as good as any book to her.
Brief Backstory:
Name a people under the sun, and Tarrya has probably fought some of them. In truth, any mercenary as well traveled as she could make this claim, but Tarrya has knowledge of the world to back it up.
Raised as a member of the low nobility - and destitute nobility at that, Tarrya originally never dreamed of making war her profession. Instead, she buried her nose in dusty tomes of ancient lore and modern science. She dreamed of unraveling the mysteries of the universe, and aimed to become a scholar and scientist, not only learning all that she could from others, but pushing the boundaries of mortal understanding further, to invent new and amazing devices. Even as she read and studied, she trained with the blade - more as a formality than anything else, but it was an enjoyable sport to her, and good excercise.
Unfortunately, the universe did not have the same purpose in mind for her that she did. To enroll at one of the great universities of the land took money, and money was something they had precious little of. Still enough to send her though, if just barely. That all changed one day, as her family lost most of what little money they did have and became peasants in all but name. Her dreams crushed, Tarrya wasted little time in moping, searching around for other paths in life to take.
Throughout her late night binge readings and general bookish life, Tarrya had read the autobiographies of adventurers and mercenaries, losing herself for a time in great battles and letting her wanderlust run wild through the pages. These stories came back to her at this time, and she resolved to join a mercenary company herself and achieve fame.
Her parents forbade it.
Undeterred, she stole away in the night about a week after, taking a small amount of gold with her to purchase arms and armor. She joined up with a smaller company in the area, and spent a year wiping out brigands and other dregs of society, steadily growing more experienced and skilled. She rose through the ranks surprisingly rapidly, eventually becoming a top lieutenant of the company, which by then had grown to become a sizeable force.
Her downfall came when, patrolling around a village, a group of bandits had crept in and murdered some villagers, taking the rest as hostages. Tarrya and a small contingent of crossbowmen and sergeants were the only force in the area, and they immediately rushed to the village’s aid. However, Tarrya’s many years of seeing death and devastation had hardened her heart and made her into a callous woman. When negotiations failed she simply ordered her crossbowmen to kill the bandits, regardless of how many villagers died. To “teach the bastards a lesson that hostages won’t work on us” as she had said.
She was stripped of her rank and arrested for the action. While she saw it as perfectly justifiable, others did not. In order to avoid harsher punishment, Tarrya promised to atone for her crime, joining the Blades of Iron Roses to defend the weak.
Or at least that was the line she fed them. In truth Tarrya didn’t care, the murder of the villagers was regrettable, but she felt no guilt in her heart. Nonetheless, she joined the Order as the retainer of one of the knights, accompanying him into battle and other duties. Nobody had informed her, however, that the new leader of the Order was an sixteen year old girl.
Equipment:
Heavy Brigandine Armor and Helmet (As seen in appearance section): What it looks like on the tin, a heavy duty set of sturdy brigandine armor consisting of tough layered steel plates riveted together and sandwiched between hardened leather - essentially forming a cuirass, albeit far cheaper and easier to create. The armor is incredibly durable, having saved her hide on more than one occasion from axe, sword, and mace blows that surely would’ve been her undoing otherwise. The armor is worn over mail and a padded gambeson.
Lucerne Hammer: A lethal weapon, spanning about three feet in length. Its primary function is as an anti-cavalry weapon, but is just as effective as a can opener, the brutal spike at the end equally useful for dragging an armored horseman off his mount as it is punching through his plate once off said horse.
Langes Messer: A brutal weapon with a self evident singular purpose - cleaving through as much flesh as possible. A strong blade, keen edge, and good quality steel ensure that this weapon will do exactly that.
Rondel Dagger: A weapon of last resort for armored fighting, when grappling with a knight, a quick thrust through his visor with the dagger is a surefire way of ending the confrontation.
Skills:
Weapon Master: Tarrya has been fighting for years, almost all of those fights to the death. She’s still alive. Her experience with all manner of weapons is nothing to shake a stick at, but give her a hefty sword or hammer and she has nary an equal, or at least, equals are a rare sight, and an unwelcome one if an enemy.
Leadership: Tarrya spent two years as a lieutenant in a prestigious mercenary company. Such a posting does not come easily, and in mercenary work there is no room for nepotism. She has thus acquired a good handle on commanding troops in the tactical sense, able to rally a second wind in exhausted soldiers and sense the opportune moment in a battle.
Sixth Sense: Years of fighting for a living have honed Tarrya’s awareness of her surroundings to a razor keen edge. It’s not quite a true sixth sense, but she’s highly unlikely to be caught by surprise by that angry infantryman with the nasty looking axe.
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Tarrya is no dainty damsel, though not of towering height by any means, standing at a solid five feet four inches, every one of those inches is packed with lean muscle, giving her physique a hard edge. Her figure has less of the more delicate curves one might expect of a woman and she weighs well over a hundred and forty pounds - had she lived life in luxury like some, perhaps she too would have the luscious figure of other women , but a life of hard living and harder fighting has tempered her body to hard steel, with a set of sapphire eyes of similar hardness to the resilient gemstone. Her skin is smooth and of a darkish olive hue, taking after her mother; however, it is marred by scarring in many places - most notably an ugly looking cut on her neck that narrowly missed her jugular - she survived, but barely, and her gear now includes a chain coif of the highest quality to prevent a repeat event. She favors heavy duty armor capable of taking several beatings if necessary, and has a personal set of mail backed brigandine, pictured below.
Personality: Tarrya has two personalities, one for the battlefield and one for... well, anything not the battlefield. On the battlefield she has no sense of humor and knows no mercy, expecting none in return. She speaks in a voice used to shouting over the din of war and has no tolerance for inefficiency. Out of her armor however, is a different matter altogether. She was raised by a scholarly mother, and like mother, like daughter. She spends her free time reading, usually. At odds with her battlefield persona, she's generally shy and reserved, happier spending her time in the pages of a book than carousing and drinking. That is not to say she avoids other people altogether, and a good, thought provoking conversation is as good as any book to her.
Brief Backstory:
Name a people under the sun, and Tarrya has probably fought some of them. In truth, any mercenary as well traveled as she could make this claim, but Tarrya has knowledge of the world to back it up.
Raised as a member of the low nobility - and destitute nobility at that, Tarrya originally never dreamed of making war her profession. Instead, she buried her nose in dusty tomes of ancient lore and modern science. She dreamed of unraveling the mysteries of the universe, and aimed to become a scholar and scientist, not only learning all that she could from others, but pushing the boundaries of mortal understanding further, to invent new and amazing devices. Even as she read and studied, she trained with the blade - more as a formality than anything else, but it was an enjoyable sport to her, and good excercise.
Unfortunately, the universe did not have the same purpose in mind for her that she did. To enroll at one of the great universities of the land took money, and money was something they had precious little of. Still enough to send her though, if just barely. That all changed one day, as her family lost most of what little money they did have and became peasants in all but name. Her dreams crushed, Tarrya wasted little time in moping, searching around for other paths in life to take.
Throughout her late night binge readings and general bookish life, Tarrya had read the autobiographies of adventurers and mercenaries, losing herself for a time in great battles and letting her wanderlust run wild through the pages. These stories came back to her at this time, and she resolved to join a mercenary company herself and achieve fame.
Her parents forbade it.
Undeterred, she stole away in the night about a week after, taking a small amount of gold with her to purchase arms and armor. She joined up with a smaller company in the area, and spent a year wiping out brigands and other dregs of society, steadily growing more experienced and skilled. She rose through the ranks surprisingly rapidly, eventually becoming a top lieutenant of the company, which by then had grown to become a sizeable force.
Her downfall came when, patrolling around a village, a group of bandits had crept in and murdered some villagers, taking the rest as hostages. Tarrya and a small contingent of crossbowmen and sergeants were the only force in the area, and they immediately rushed to the village’s aid. However, Tarrya’s many years of seeing death and devastation had hardened her heart and made her into a callous woman. When negotiations failed she simply ordered her crossbowmen to kill the bandits, regardless of how many villagers died. To “teach the bastards a lesson that hostages won’t work on us” as she had said.
She was stripped of her rank and arrested for the action. While she saw it as perfectly justifiable, others did not. In order to avoid harsher punishment, Tarrya promised to atone for her crime, joining the Blades of Iron Roses to defend the weak.
Or at least that was the line she fed them. In truth Tarrya didn’t care, the murder of the villagers was regrettable, but she felt no guilt in her heart. Nonetheless, she joined the Order as the retainer of one of the knights, accompanying him into battle and other duties. Nobody had informed her, however, that the new leader of the Order was an sixteen year old girl.
Equipment:
Heavy Brigandine Armor and Helmet (As seen in appearance section): What it looks like on the tin, a heavy duty set of sturdy brigandine armor consisting of tough layered steel plates riveted together and sandwiched between hardened leather - essentially forming a cuirass, albeit far cheaper and easier to create. The armor is incredibly durable, having saved her hide on more than one occasion from axe, sword, and mace blows that surely would’ve been her undoing otherwise. The armor is worn over mail and a padded gambeson.
Lucerne Hammer: A lethal weapon, spanning about three feet in length. Its primary function is as an anti-cavalry weapon, but is just as effective as a can opener, the brutal spike at the end equally useful for dragging an armored horseman off his mount as it is punching through his plate once off said horse.
Langes Messer: A brutal weapon with a self evident singular purpose - cleaving through as much flesh as possible. A strong blade, keen edge, and good quality steel ensure that this weapon will do exactly that.
Rondel Dagger: A weapon of last resort for armored fighting, when grappling with a knight, a quick thrust through his visor with the dagger is a surefire way of ending the confrontation.
Skills:
Weapon Master: Tarrya has been fighting for years, almost all of those fights to the death. She’s still alive. Her experience with all manner of weapons is nothing to shake a stick at, but give her a hefty sword or hammer and she has nary an equal, or at least, equals are a rare sight, and an unwelcome one if an enemy.
Leadership: Tarrya spent two years as a lieutenant in a prestigious mercenary company. Such a posting does not come easily, and in mercenary work there is no room for nepotism. She has thus acquired a good handle on commanding troops in the tactical sense, able to rally a second wind in exhausted soldiers and sense the opportune moment in a battle.
Sixth Sense: Years of fighting for a living have honed Tarrya’s awareness of her surroundings to a razor keen edge. It’s not quite a true sixth sense, but she’s highly unlikely to be caught by surprise by that angry infantryman with the nasty looking axe.
1x Like
Name: Rolan Thatcher
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: Standing at just above 6'0", Rolan is a lean, but muscled fellow who walks about with a catlike grace. He possesses aquiline features with a nose that has been notably broken many a time, a mess of dirty blonde hair kept swept out of his face and hard grey eyes, like orbs of ice.
Personality: Rolan is by all means civil in manner, but painfully introspective of all he does in this company of living legends, outside the order and among the more familiar rabble of the common folk Rolan is a lot more unreserved in nature. He's suspicious and distrustful of strangers, however those of whom earn his trust will often find loyalty, he is also often given to thoughts of extreme courage and heroism but his grounded nature, grown from a life of harsh reality often curbs him away from such daring action.
Brief Backstory: Rolan was raised in the town of Alugaurd, a bustling community nestled in what is known as the 'Golden Valley' in the northern reaches of Velt. Life was hard but fair growing up on his family's farm, growing, harvesting and selling the golden yellow wheat from whence the valley got its name. But as he grew so too did his spirit grow in restlessness, slowly filling with a desire to seek and explore until finally he could take it no more, and then on one warm, summers night, he stole off into darkness with nothing more then a few coins and the clothes on his back.
By the time the sun had dawned and flooded the world with a soft orange light, Rolan had almost walked all the way to the next town and although he desired rest, he knew he must walk on around it, lest he be discovered and held captive til claimed by his parents, for although he was only 13 and would probably be sorely missed, he couldn't imagine his folks would be too upset with his leaving, being one less mouth to feed. That would have been the case were it not for the fact he had also taken with him a family heirloom, his Grandfathers helmet, which he wore tied to his waist as a suspicious bulk beneath his coat, so on he walked, stopping only briefly to eat beneath the shade of some boulders clustered around the foot of a nearby mountain. His travels continued on for some time, leaving behind him the valleys and foothills of his home until stretching out before him was scores of endless plains as far as the eye could see, however his adventure soon turned sour as he ran out of food and was forced to forage among the meager game of the plains. Starvation was all he knew for the following week, walking shorter and shorter distances each day until he grew too weak to continue, laying down to die against a moss covered stone that rested at a crossroads as his world turned black.
Strangely the life in him clung on and the light from the sun above filtered through his shut eyelids, stirring him to wakefulness, weakly he opened his eyes, the light suddenly becoming too harsh forcing him to squint as he teared up, blinking profusely to regain his vision. It was then that he noticed he was moving, the ground beneath him slowly swaying from side to side, his hands ran along the length of it and found it to be wood, somehow he had found himself on the back of a horse-drawn cart. For as luck would have it he had been found and rescued by an old veteran soldier by the name of Horace Longfellow, having come upon the boy Horace took pity upon him and helped him in his recovery. Initially planning on dropping him off at the next village along the way, Horace eventually took the young lad beneath his wing, finding within him a certain kinship he had never had, being childless and a widower. And so it was that Rolan found himself living in the capital city of Thaln, where he eventually joined the city guard, whilst under the tutelage of Horace and thanks to him, served with distinction for many years. It was due to his excellent record as a city guard that one of the resident Nobles took an interest in him, eventually endorsing and backing him in the Iron rose knights recruiting process, hoping to use him as a tool of influence within its ranks.
Equipment:
A plain steel long sword with a black, well worn leather grip; Held in a simple and unadorned sheath at his side.
A small oak kite shield with iron rims, painted with the Iron rose knight insignia.
A simple hunting bow, with a quiver of iron tipped arrows.
His grandfathers helmet, refitted for himself:
Boiled leather armor, with a plain white tunic beneath, embroided on the right breast is the Iron rose knight insignia:
Skills: He's deadly proficient with his long sword from years of practical use and from training under Horace, however his recent training under the Iron rose knights implements shields which has hindered his usual grace with a blade. He also possesses unnatural vigilance and very little need for sleep from years of being on watch whilst with the city guard, a handy skill while watching horses and tending fires as a squire for his knights. And having being somewhat scarred by his experience on the road, Rolan has ensured that he himself became a skilled hunter and forager so he'd never go too hungry on any travels again.
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: Standing at just above 6'0", Rolan is a lean, but muscled fellow who walks about with a catlike grace. He possesses aquiline features with a nose that has been notably broken many a time, a mess of dirty blonde hair kept swept out of his face and hard grey eyes, like orbs of ice.
Personality: Rolan is by all means civil in manner, but painfully introspective of all he does in this company of living legends, outside the order and among the more familiar rabble of the common folk Rolan is a lot more unreserved in nature. He's suspicious and distrustful of strangers, however those of whom earn his trust will often find loyalty, he is also often given to thoughts of extreme courage and heroism but his grounded nature, grown from a life of harsh reality often curbs him away from such daring action.
Brief Backstory: Rolan was raised in the town of Alugaurd, a bustling community nestled in what is known as the 'Golden Valley' in the northern reaches of Velt. Life was hard but fair growing up on his family's farm, growing, harvesting and selling the golden yellow wheat from whence the valley got its name. But as he grew so too did his spirit grow in restlessness, slowly filling with a desire to seek and explore until finally he could take it no more, and then on one warm, summers night, he stole off into darkness with nothing more then a few coins and the clothes on his back.
By the time the sun had dawned and flooded the world with a soft orange light, Rolan had almost walked all the way to the next town and although he desired rest, he knew he must walk on around it, lest he be discovered and held captive til claimed by his parents, for although he was only 13 and would probably be sorely missed, he couldn't imagine his folks would be too upset with his leaving, being one less mouth to feed. That would have been the case were it not for the fact he had also taken with him a family heirloom, his Grandfathers helmet, which he wore tied to his waist as a suspicious bulk beneath his coat, so on he walked, stopping only briefly to eat beneath the shade of some boulders clustered around the foot of a nearby mountain. His travels continued on for some time, leaving behind him the valleys and foothills of his home until stretching out before him was scores of endless plains as far as the eye could see, however his adventure soon turned sour as he ran out of food and was forced to forage among the meager game of the plains. Starvation was all he knew for the following week, walking shorter and shorter distances each day until he grew too weak to continue, laying down to die against a moss covered stone that rested at a crossroads as his world turned black.
Strangely the life in him clung on and the light from the sun above filtered through his shut eyelids, stirring him to wakefulness, weakly he opened his eyes, the light suddenly becoming too harsh forcing him to squint as he teared up, blinking profusely to regain his vision. It was then that he noticed he was moving, the ground beneath him slowly swaying from side to side, his hands ran along the length of it and found it to be wood, somehow he had found himself on the back of a horse-drawn cart. For as luck would have it he had been found and rescued by an old veteran soldier by the name of Horace Longfellow, having come upon the boy Horace took pity upon him and helped him in his recovery. Initially planning on dropping him off at the next village along the way, Horace eventually took the young lad beneath his wing, finding within him a certain kinship he had never had, being childless and a widower. And so it was that Rolan found himself living in the capital city of Thaln, where he eventually joined the city guard, whilst under the tutelage of Horace and thanks to him, served with distinction for many years. It was due to his excellent record as a city guard that one of the resident Nobles took an interest in him, eventually endorsing and backing him in the Iron rose knights recruiting process, hoping to use him as a tool of influence within its ranks.
Equipment:
A plain steel long sword with a black, well worn leather grip; Held in a simple and unadorned sheath at his side.
A small oak kite shield with iron rims, painted with the Iron rose knight insignia.
A simple hunting bow, with a quiver of iron tipped arrows.
His grandfathers helmet, refitted for himself:
Boiled leather armor, with a plain white tunic beneath, embroided on the right breast is the Iron rose knight insignia:
Skills: He's deadly proficient with his long sword from years of practical use and from training under Horace, however his recent training under the Iron rose knights implements shields which has hindered his usual grace with a blade. He also possesses unnatural vigilance and very little need for sleep from years of being on watch whilst with the city guard, a handy skill while watching horses and tending fires as a squire for his knights. And having being somewhat scarred by his experience on the road, Rolan has ensured that he himself became a skilled hunter and forager so he'd never go too hungry on any travels again.
Taka The Last Son of Vegeta
Member
Seen
24 days ago
Name:
Aleyn “White Knight” Ward
Age:
26
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Personality:
On the outside, Aleyn has a friendly and caring personality, making friends with like-minded people. When around others, he keeps a smile on his face and eagerly engages with others during activities. The man has a clear mind and a sense of responsibility that shows how mature he has become. He is not above a good fight, willing to fight anyone if only for the sheer love of battle though at times he can be very arrogant toward his opposition and constantly taunt his foe. This never stands in his way of protecting those special to him.
On the inside, Aleyn pushes away those who would otherwise be considered his friends. He has a fear of getting to close to those he cares for as he’s seen the tragedy and experienced the pain of losing loved ones. This has culminated into making him afraid of losing the feelings of comfort that loved-ones provide whilst causing him to keep his pain hidden from any others. Despite this, Aleyn remains steadfastly loyal and true to those he cares about. From his years with his father, Aleyn developed a superiority complex as he is unwilling to acknowledge when someone is stronger than him.
Brief Backstory:
Born in the Noble House of Ward, Aleyn was always expected to bring greatness to the family. The Ward Family holds a prestigious stature within the magical world as the premier Ainriel in Thain. For years, Aleyn was subjected the ways of the Ainriel, taking his sight and making him a blind expert of sword and magic. Around the ripe age of 14 is when Aleyn began to engage in real combat situations. Over the many years that he learned and fought alongside his brethren, the man soon made a name for himself as The White Knight.
Aleyn’s life would take a turn when he would be appointed to help train a young girl named Fanilly, the girl believed would bring greatness to Thain. A bond unlike any other would form between them for over three years. For a month he left on a mission with his father, and upon his return he has learned about the Iron Rose Knights. Who would be better to join than the White Knight as a guardian to the new captain? Legends were ripe for telling and a story to span various adventures were upon Thain.
Equipment:
Zalthael - A blade gifted to the Ainriel over several hundred years ago, Zalthael holds legacy within the Noble family. It is a sword crafted through a physical and magical means so that the blade contains a high durability. Many wars and battles have touched the sword, staining it with the blood of many.
Skills:
Expert Swordsmanship Specialist: In terms of fighting style, Aleyn usually relies on his sword, and therefore can be considered a Swordsmanship Specialist. Aleyn's entire training with the sword has been by masters, most specifically his father. Aleyn is capable of relying on his sword almost solely in battle. Overtime, Aleyn has honed his swordsmanship skills to an expert level, and is able to wield his blade while changing attacks (from slashing motions to piercing motions) with no difficulty at all.
Aleyn's style of swordfighting is a unique one; specializing in slow, powerful sword strikes which consist mostly of heavy swings. While his sword swings are overwhelmingly powerful, they have a slow start-up speed; but the payoff (aka the attack itself) is more than worth it. Rather than this being a limitation to him, Aleyn fights with it, utilizing his heavy style to provide his blows with incredible force, while relying on the main articulation points at the elbows and wrists for precision, resulting in brutally effective bladework; displaying crispness and unpredictability, notwithstanding the two-handed grip he favours. Even the most simplistic moves contain enough strength to nearly disarm his opponents.
Because of his heavier attacks, he is at a disadvantage when dueling against equally powerful or stronger characters using fast-paced combat styles. To counter these opponents, he can, at any moment's notice, show his true worth. It should be noted that Aleyn is not slow per-se; it is more that he focuses more on heavy strikes than the other characters, and he merely prefers a stronger fighting style; otherwise, he is just as fast of the rest. It should be noted that Aleyn is far less proficient with a fast-paced style of combat. Aleyn has also shown the ability to attack with the broad side of his blade when he has no intention of killing his enemy, focusing brute force into it instead of the intent to cut. While performing right-handed, Aleyn shows he can wield his blade with any hand.
Acute Senses - For as long as he can remember, Aleyn’s father has been teaching his son how to increase his overall senses as he too was blind due to being an Ainriel. Aleyn’s senses are enhanced not only through training but, his father also intensified the boy’s senses through a magical means. Aleyn’s hearing is acute enough to allow him to pinpoint sounds and decipher voices even in a crowd. He can identify a person off of their smell and track targets though the tracking doesn’t apply in combat.
Ainriel/Wave Magic - Ainriel are blind Magic Knights who have existed hundreds of years, fighting in many of Thain’s wars. Within the darkness, these blind warriors have forged a new method of 'sight'. Communing with the life magic inside of every living being, Ainriel are able to see and manifest this life magic into visual form called 'Waves'. Every object, human, creature, animal, and plant flows with unique colored Waves, enabling an Ainriel to see through the darkness. By taking a step forward and embracing the full extent of Waves, Ainriel can create a myriad of attacks using their own Waves. Once that has been conquered, an Ainriel can stimulate the Waves and draw elements into their techniques, creating new ways to attack but, wave usages shares of the stipulation of needing a focus albeit a body, weapon, etc.
Aleyn “White Knight” Ward
Age:
26
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Personality:
On the outside, Aleyn has a friendly and caring personality, making friends with like-minded people. When around others, he keeps a smile on his face and eagerly engages with others during activities. The man has a clear mind and a sense of responsibility that shows how mature he has become. He is not above a good fight, willing to fight anyone if only for the sheer love of battle though at times he can be very arrogant toward his opposition and constantly taunt his foe. This never stands in his way of protecting those special to him.
On the inside, Aleyn pushes away those who would otherwise be considered his friends. He has a fear of getting to close to those he cares for as he’s seen the tragedy and experienced the pain of losing loved ones. This has culminated into making him afraid of losing the feelings of comfort that loved-ones provide whilst causing him to keep his pain hidden from any others. Despite this, Aleyn remains steadfastly loyal and true to those he cares about. From his years with his father, Aleyn developed a superiority complex as he is unwilling to acknowledge when someone is stronger than him.
Brief Backstory:
Born in the Noble House of Ward, Aleyn was always expected to bring greatness to the family. The Ward Family holds a prestigious stature within the magical world as the premier Ainriel in Thain. For years, Aleyn was subjected the ways of the Ainriel, taking his sight and making him a blind expert of sword and magic. Around the ripe age of 14 is when Aleyn began to engage in real combat situations. Over the many years that he learned and fought alongside his brethren, the man soon made a name for himself as The White Knight.
Aleyn’s life would take a turn when he would be appointed to help train a young girl named Fanilly, the girl believed would bring greatness to Thain. A bond unlike any other would form between them for over three years. For a month he left on a mission with his father, and upon his return he has learned about the Iron Rose Knights. Who would be better to join than the White Knight as a guardian to the new captain? Legends were ripe for telling and a story to span various adventures were upon Thain.
Equipment:
Zalthael - A blade gifted to the Ainriel over several hundred years ago, Zalthael holds legacy within the Noble family. It is a sword crafted through a physical and magical means so that the blade contains a high durability. Many wars and battles have touched the sword, staining it with the blood of many.
Skills:
Expert Swordsmanship Specialist: In terms of fighting style, Aleyn usually relies on his sword, and therefore can be considered a Swordsmanship Specialist. Aleyn's entire training with the sword has been by masters, most specifically his father. Aleyn is capable of relying on his sword almost solely in battle. Overtime, Aleyn has honed his swordsmanship skills to an expert level, and is able to wield his blade while changing attacks (from slashing motions to piercing motions) with no difficulty at all.
Aleyn's style of swordfighting is a unique one; specializing in slow, powerful sword strikes which consist mostly of heavy swings. While his sword swings are overwhelmingly powerful, they have a slow start-up speed; but the payoff (aka the attack itself) is more than worth it. Rather than this being a limitation to him, Aleyn fights with it, utilizing his heavy style to provide his blows with incredible force, while relying on the main articulation points at the elbows and wrists for precision, resulting in brutally effective bladework; displaying crispness and unpredictability, notwithstanding the two-handed grip he favours. Even the most simplistic moves contain enough strength to nearly disarm his opponents.
Because of his heavier attacks, he is at a disadvantage when dueling against equally powerful or stronger characters using fast-paced combat styles. To counter these opponents, he can, at any moment's notice, show his true worth. It should be noted that Aleyn is not slow per-se; it is more that he focuses more on heavy strikes than the other characters, and he merely prefers a stronger fighting style; otherwise, he is just as fast of the rest. It should be noted that Aleyn is far less proficient with a fast-paced style of combat. Aleyn has also shown the ability to attack with the broad side of his blade when he has no intention of killing his enemy, focusing brute force into it instead of the intent to cut. While performing right-handed, Aleyn shows he can wield his blade with any hand.
Acute Senses - For as long as he can remember, Aleyn’s father has been teaching his son how to increase his overall senses as he too was blind due to being an Ainriel. Aleyn’s senses are enhanced not only through training but, his father also intensified the boy’s senses through a magical means. Aleyn’s hearing is acute enough to allow him to pinpoint sounds and decipher voices even in a crowd. He can identify a person off of their smell and track targets though the tracking doesn’t apply in combat.
Ainriel/Wave Magic - Ainriel are blind Magic Knights who have existed hundreds of years, fighting in many of Thain’s wars. Within the darkness, these blind warriors have forged a new method of 'sight'. Communing with the life magic inside of every living being, Ainriel are able to see and manifest this life magic into visual form called 'Waves'. Every object, human, creature, animal, and plant flows with unique colored Waves, enabling an Ainriel to see through the darkness. By taking a step forward and embracing the full extent of Waves, Ainriel can create a myriad of attacks using their own Waves. Once that has been conquered, an Ainriel can stimulate the Waves and draw elements into their techniques, creating new ways to attack but, wave usages shares of the stipulation of needing a focus albeit a body, weapon, etc.
Air Saber - When performing this technique, the user gathers and condenses their magical power into their sword, before using it as a magnet of sorts in order to draw enormous amounts of air towards it— the user molds it upon their blades, compressing multiple layers of wind into air of a super-high pressure onto the blade, which distorts the refraction of light and renders what's inside the multiple layers of wind invisible to the naked eye. The moment that the wind is molded upon the sword, it takes upon the shape of the armament and renders it as an invisible weapon though the wind can coalescing around the blade can be seen clearly. The technique itself is known to be exceedingly simple in regards to its execution, but that, along with its effectiveness in combat, for the record, the winds compressed upon the sword are not a vacuum, so the air which is always whirling around the armament grants it a rather notable boost in power. Due to the slicing winds surrounding the armament, the damage emitted is increased, and so is the cutting power. Lastly, the user can release the multiple layers of wind around the blade, causing the previously compressed wind to surge around their body chaotically, creating a vicious surge of air pressure as it diffuses into the air with enough force to knock people over and acts in a similar manner to a hammer which is composed purely of wind.
Incantation “Unleash the fury of the wind AND DISPATCH MY ENEMIES!”
Fire Sword - Fire Sword is created when the user gathers the magical energy kneaded inside of their body and transfers it to their sword; then it ignites the magical particles that are revolving around on the weapon, setting it alight with a blade of blazing wildfire tinted emerald, this serves to distract the opponent from their swings; or rather, it is a compression of the flames. The result is being simultaneously burned and slashed simultaneously, giving this attack great power. Furthermore the flames can catch flames to body parts and cauterize wounds. The user can also launch multiple flaming swords to make a lancing-type move; where they direct the sabers towards their target, aiming to impale them with incredible speed and force.
Incantation “Burn humanity to the ground AND IGNITE WAR!”
Weakness - Wave technique carry the subsequent weakness of needing a constant surge of magical energy to stay activate and can tire out Aleyn to the point his “sight” can short out. Attempting to activate any of his techniques without the incantation uses up twice the necessary magical energy which can tire Aleyn at a faster than normal rate.
Incantation “Unleash the fury of the wind AND DISPATCH MY ENEMIES!”
Fire Sword - Fire Sword is created when the user gathers the magical energy kneaded inside of their body and transfers it to their sword; then it ignites the magical particles that are revolving around on the weapon, setting it alight with a blade of blazing wildfire tinted emerald, this serves to distract the opponent from their swings; or rather, it is a compression of the flames. The result is being simultaneously burned and slashed simultaneously, giving this attack great power. Furthermore the flames can catch flames to body parts and cauterize wounds. The user can also launch multiple flaming swords to make a lancing-type move; where they direct the sabers towards their target, aiming to impale them with incredible speed and force.
Incantation “Burn humanity to the ground AND IGNITE WAR!”
Weakness - Wave technique carry the subsequent weakness of needing a constant surge of magical energy to stay activate and can tire out Aleyn to the point his “sight” can short out. Attempting to activate any of his techniques without the incantation uses up twice the necessary magical energy which can tire Aleyn at a faster than normal rate.
Name: Ian Vanafir
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Race: Hundi
Appearance:
Ian stands at 5'3" with a deceptively lithe figure hiding a surprising amount of strength. Atop his head are two pointed canine ears standing up about five inches with fur matching his hair color, he also has a nearly two foot tail of the same fur color.
Personality: Ian is a rather free-spirited one, typically erratic and with a difficult to break happy-go-lucky demeanor. It's not very difficult to become friends with him and he is not too shy to display his interest in someone, bluntly or playfully, and he can on occasion be uncomfortably affectionate. He's very devoted to his companions, his dedication to their protection can be seen in his chosen fighting style and the tenacity with which he will defend them. His tail and ears are often expressive of his mood, the latter of which he enjoys having pet, messing with his tail, however, will usually earn a growl from him.
Brief Backstory: Ian was born to a pair of Hundi sellswords in service to a wealthy trader in Ithillin, nothing much happened in the early years of his life, he would train with his parents or wrestle with the Trader's children, he was even allowed to receive tutoring alongside them as well. As his sixteenth birthday began to draw near he started accompanying his parents on the trade caravans and once the day hit he accompanied his last caravan into Velt, and stayed when the caravan returned. At this point he set out into the world, traveling through Velt continuing to work as a mercenary to fund his wandering. He would eventually cross over into Thaln, where his first encounter with the Iron Rose Knights would occur.
He'd encountered a group of brigands on the road, brigands that had already been targeted by a small group of Iron Rose knights already. The initial brigands had been dealt with but Ian and the knights had confused eachother for enemies. Ian had come out of the fight on top, besting the knights one on three, it was then that the leader of the group offered him a place within the order.
Equipment: Light plate armor designed to allow for a wide range of movement, A pair of Towershields each about two feet wide and almost as tall as he is, A crossbow, And a waraxe.
Skills: Ian's unique fighting style has him using a towershield in each hand, utilizing the heavy shields not only for protection but to pummel his opponents. He is surprisingly agile when using them and can swing them rather easily. When not using his shields his fighting style switches to one reliant on agility, dodging strikes rather than blocking them. Alternatively, Ian is quite skilled with a crossbow.
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Race: Hundi
Appearance:
Ian stands at 5'3" with a deceptively lithe figure hiding a surprising amount of strength. Atop his head are two pointed canine ears standing up about five inches with fur matching his hair color, he also has a nearly two foot tail of the same fur color.
Personality: Ian is a rather free-spirited one, typically erratic and with a difficult to break happy-go-lucky demeanor. It's not very difficult to become friends with him and he is not too shy to display his interest in someone, bluntly or playfully, and he can on occasion be uncomfortably affectionate. He's very devoted to his companions, his dedication to their protection can be seen in his chosen fighting style and the tenacity with which he will defend them. His tail and ears are often expressive of his mood, the latter of which he enjoys having pet, messing with his tail, however, will usually earn a growl from him.
Brief Backstory: Ian was born to a pair of Hundi sellswords in service to a wealthy trader in Ithillin, nothing much happened in the early years of his life, he would train with his parents or wrestle with the Trader's children, he was even allowed to receive tutoring alongside them as well. As his sixteenth birthday began to draw near he started accompanying his parents on the trade caravans and once the day hit he accompanied his last caravan into Velt, and stayed when the caravan returned. At this point he set out into the world, traveling through Velt continuing to work as a mercenary to fund his wandering. He would eventually cross over into Thaln, where his first encounter with the Iron Rose Knights would occur.
He'd encountered a group of brigands on the road, brigands that had already been targeted by a small group of Iron Rose knights already. The initial brigands had been dealt with but Ian and the knights had confused eachother for enemies. Ian had come out of the fight on top, besting the knights one on three, it was then that the leader of the group offered him a place within the order.
Equipment: Light plate armor designed to allow for a wide range of movement, A pair of Towershields each about two feet wide and almost as tall as he is, A crossbow, And a waraxe.
Skills: Ian's unique fighting style has him using a towershield in each hand, utilizing the heavy shields not only for protection but to pummel his opponents. He is surprisingly agile when using them and can swing them rather easily. When not using his shields his fighting style switches to one reliant on agility, dodging strikes rather than blocking them. Alternatively, Ian is quite skilled with a crossbow.
ghastlyInc sheep enthusiast
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
- Name: Gillian Reynaud
- Age: 22
- Gender: Male
- Race: Human
- Appearance:
- Personality: Gillian values honesty, simplicity and trust. All of which he feels are impossible to find in any sufficiently large group of people. A loner by necessity and by nature, he prefers not to speak too much, especially on matters of nobility. He can be very defensive when dealing with intimate issues (or those dealing with his condition), and as such avoids them as much as possible except with those he considers close friends. What few friends he keeps are treated to a watchfulness most attack dogs would envy and the occasional stroke of melancholic humor when he’s in his more ‘peppy’ moments.
He is a loyal knight to his core, and believes in the mission of the Iron Rose Knights with a fervor approaching fanaticism. However, he openly dislikes the glamour in which they operate. The opulent ceremonies and the relic of a tradition for choosing their captains put more at risk than it was worth. A shiny set of armor and a parade with a beautiful young girl might make the population feel better, but it won’t help the village razed by orcs while the knights sat polishing their boots and wallowing in the nostalgia of their roots. As such he can seem a bit of a hard liner when it comes to dealing with enemies of Thaln and is not known for his patience (or mercy). His tolerance for magic users is especially low, distrusting them intensely, even those trained in the Mage College. - Brief Backstory: Gillian was born in the township of La Reine, located on the Velt-Thaln boarder just off a rarely traveled caravan trail. The only truly notable thing about it was the local superstition that a powerful witch resided in the local woods, His parents were both local hunters, trading much needed food and pelts to travelers and locals during the winter months. It was a quiet place to grow up, much of the day spent hunting or practicing with the town militia (which consisted of little more than a few men armed with make shift spears). For the first fourteen years of his life, Gillian faced few hurtles aside from the normal trials of a rural hunter and the occasional disorganized Orc warband attempting a raid.
In the fall of his fifteenth year, a small caravan accompanied by a squad of Iron Rose Knights rolled into town. Their commanding officer, Seigward Parnella, was investigating reports that the local orc bands had gone utterly quiet. The people of La Reine, Gillian included, were eager to believe the Orcs had simply vanished, removing the one few dark marks against their sequestered home. Parnella was less naïvely optimistic, ordering his squad to occupy the town. Parnella’s suspicions held true and within the week the town was under siege by an impressive warband, seemingly brought together by an ambitious and skilled young Orc. The Knights, even while bolstered by the town militia, could barely hold back the attack. Being young and untrained, Gillian broke rank quickly, fleeing into the forest, seeking sanctuary in an abandoned shack deep in the heart of the forest. He soon discovered that he was followed by an orc on boarback, who hunted the boy seemingly for the pure sport of it, side swiping his prey and letting his boards tusk slowly gore the young man. After many wild helpless wings, he eventually managed to land a blow on the rider’s saddle, sending the orc tumbling over the side of his awkward to the merciless hooves that awaited him below. As the Orc lay dead or dying, the cripple Gillian limped onward to the shack, still intent on hiding until the attack subsided.
Just when the shack was a blurry dot on the horizon and he could feel to his wounds edging him ever closer to death, an odd woman stepped from behind a tree branch, offering to save his life in exchange for a favor to be called on at a later date. In no condition to question her motives nor caring too deeply about them at the moment, he accepted hastily. He only had time to watch as the woman called over a lumbering antlered figure, which loomed over him for a moment before unconciounsness took him. He awoke among the smoldering remains of his village, his arm replaced with some eldritch approximation of magically grafted flesh and bone and the orc band seemingly repelled. The victory was not without cost and much of the village, Gillian's family included, lay dead at its heart. What few were left turned on him quickly, blaming the ‘demon child’ for the attack.
Parnella and the remaining knights quickly took charge of the situation, claiming the boy as his squire (for his safety and the safety of the villagers if their suspicions proved true). The village was soon abandoned, the remaining villagers heading north to Velt and the knights and their new ward lingered a while, hoping to find the wayward caster and undo the bargain. Though their search yeilded no witch, it gave time for the squadrons resident caster to determine the nature of the arm. A construct, forged by a demon (through some obscured or lost article of magical craft) summoned or accompanying the witch. Parnella eventually convinced the boy to move on, after nearly a week of scouring the forest for the woman, but allowed him to remain with the squadron while he searched for answers on the road. For a while he was a squire in name only, Parnella initially only intending on keeping the boy around until Gillian could be freed of the bizarre addition. However as the months began to stretch, the elder knight found himself occupying the boys time with training more and more, if only to shield him from the reality that his situation might be permanent. At the very least, this way the aging knight could provide him with a chance to do some real good. On the dawn of his eighteenth year, Parnella asked Gillian to formally join the order, to which he agreed. Soon though Parnella’s age began to show and he could no longer handle the physical demands of Knighthood and was forced to retire to Thaln’s capital and disband his squad. Gillian attempted to stay with his mentor, but quickly found himself chaffing under the obligations expected of a knight in polite society as well as the hesitation of some of his commanding officers who knew of his condition. Deciding he was not welcome, nor wished to stay, in the capital he has since adopted a more mercenary method of performing his knightly duties, joining with squadrons short of hands in remote regions or on jobs ranging from too trivial to suicidal in exchange for basic living expenses or information on sightings of constructs similar to his. - Equipment:
Armor: Being fairly poor in comparison to many of the knights with who he travels, Gillian’s armor is a bit of a hodge podge. While it is all well fitted, it largely consists of old leather armor, with modest amounts of chainmail and the odd piece of plate to supplement weaker areas. While it offers more mobility and reduced weight, it sadly lacks the greater amounts of protection a proper suit could afford.
Boar Spear: Primary weapon of choice.
Kite Shield: Guaranteed to probably block fatal stabbings or your blood back.
Broadsword: Used in conjunction with the shield for when spear is too unwieldly for the area.
The Demon's arm: A magical prosthetic that has taken the place of Gillian's original arm, constructed through an arcane process not as yet fully understood. Its aesthetics are dark and insectoid, black chitinous plates interconnected with ghostly blue membrane beneath. It is slightly more durable than the average arm, thanks to the natural armor, though Gillian is in no rush to test its limits. It can act as a catalyst for casting a limited number of spells, though weather this is a function included for some agenda of the witch or the whimsy of the demon who created is not clear. - Skills:
Gillian is a capable hunter and tracker, having spent many years as a furrier in his youth. There are few Knights of the order who can track a bleeding Orc from a day old trail in the wilds of Thaln, and Gillian is one of those proud few.
Gillian works best as a support fighter, being lightly armored in comparison to many other knights. While he can handle himself in a one on one fight, he prefers to circle around opponents distracted by comrades, harassing them from a safe distance and creating opening.
Demon Arm spells Known:
Griffe longue: Fires a projectile of white hot energy which stabs into the target before dissipating.
Larmes: Places a sigil on another creature for 12 hours. Sigil oozes harmless, but highly luminescent, fluid constantly for the duration. Sigil can be removed with any commonly available method of removing minor curses.
Le Bras du Géants: Increases the strength of the arm itself for a few moments. He can easily crush stone in his grip while this is active. However, only the arms strength is affected. While the arm might be able to palm a large stone with no issue, he would sooner throw out his back than be able to lift it.
Le Vrai Nom: Allows Gillian to disguise his arm as human. Works for less than two hours a day at maximum and prevents the casting of any other spells while it is active.
Snagglepuss89
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
Name: Iowerth (Iolyn) Rhydderch
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance:
Personality: Good natured, but with a scathing wit, Iolyn has been known to get on just as many peoples' good side as bad. It's hard to tell, at first glance, when his dislike of someone is genuine or feigned, as he seems to treat both people he likes and hates equally poorly. While perhaps not making him the most popular knight in the order, his criticisms are at least usually full of genuine advice.
His quest for knowledge is voracious, at least concerning the history of Thaln and the wider world. From his traveling days he is fairly well acquainted with the customs and history of the other nations and races of the world, at least those that could be approached without dismembering him on sight. If left with free time, he can usually be found either pouring over research or writing down his own findings.
Brief Backstory: The Rhydderch family is an old noble line with no small amount of power in Thaln, and thus Iolyn was afforded an upbringing of luxury, where he could focus both on training his mind and body instead of learning a craft to make a living. From a young age he was captured with a sense of wanderlust and curiosity to see the world, and as a fourth son with very few hopes of having to inherit the family lands and estates, he was encouraged to leave and make his own way in the world. As soon as he felt able to, Iolyn set for other lands with a thirst for adventure and discovery.
Life as a wanderer quickly hardened the young noble, casting aside much of the romance and fantasy his passion had instilled in him. Still, with a noble's training and equipment, he was well able to defend himself against many of the more violent sorts he encountered during his journey, and the hardships did not deter him from his chosen path. For years he traveled, visiting as many notable landmarks as possible. From Taderia (although he studied from afar, not daring or foolish enough to venture inside) to the gates of Draz'khzidra and back. Along the way he wrote Myths of Thaln: Accurate Accounts of Historic Locations which became a minor success amongst the nobility, and afforded him the luxury of his own house and small library in Tennelberg.
However, this house was not located in the... nicest part of the city. Eventually, catching word of his wealth, a gang of thieves broke into Iolyn's house, taking the man by surprise. Unarmed and outnumbered, he was quickly overwhelmed. Only intervention from a Knight of the Iron Rose, who happened to hear the commotion from the street, saved his life. The encounter, particularly when the knight refused payment afterword, rekindled Iolyn's long lost passion, and he almost immediately set about joining the order as a personal sort of repayment to the knight. While not a knight himself, his family blood and experience in combat ensured that he was quickly accepted.
That was over half a decade ago, and he has proven himself a useful asset on many occasions.
Equipment:
Skills:
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance:
Personality: Good natured, but with a scathing wit, Iolyn has been known to get on just as many peoples' good side as bad. It's hard to tell, at first glance, when his dislike of someone is genuine or feigned, as he seems to treat both people he likes and hates equally poorly. While perhaps not making him the most popular knight in the order, his criticisms are at least usually full of genuine advice.
His quest for knowledge is voracious, at least concerning the history of Thaln and the wider world. From his traveling days he is fairly well acquainted with the customs and history of the other nations and races of the world, at least those that could be approached without dismembering him on sight. If left with free time, he can usually be found either pouring over research or writing down his own findings.
Brief Backstory: The Rhydderch family is an old noble line with no small amount of power in Thaln, and thus Iolyn was afforded an upbringing of luxury, where he could focus both on training his mind and body instead of learning a craft to make a living. From a young age he was captured with a sense of wanderlust and curiosity to see the world, and as a fourth son with very few hopes of having to inherit the family lands and estates, he was encouraged to leave and make his own way in the world. As soon as he felt able to, Iolyn set for other lands with a thirst for adventure and discovery.
Life as a wanderer quickly hardened the young noble, casting aside much of the romance and fantasy his passion had instilled in him. Still, with a noble's training and equipment, he was well able to defend himself against many of the more violent sorts he encountered during his journey, and the hardships did not deter him from his chosen path. For years he traveled, visiting as many notable landmarks as possible. From Taderia (although he studied from afar, not daring or foolish enough to venture inside) to the gates of Draz'khzidra and back. Along the way he wrote Myths of Thaln: Accurate Accounts of Historic Locations which became a minor success amongst the nobility, and afforded him the luxury of his own house and small library in Tennelberg.
However, this house was not located in the... nicest part of the city. Eventually, catching word of his wealth, a gang of thieves broke into Iolyn's house, taking the man by surprise. Unarmed and outnumbered, he was quickly overwhelmed. Only intervention from a Knight of the Iron Rose, who happened to hear the commotion from the street, saved his life. The encounter, particularly when the knight refused payment afterword, rekindled Iolyn's long lost passion, and he almost immediately set about joining the order as a personal sort of repayment to the knight. While not a knight himself, his family blood and experience in combat ensured that he was quickly accepted.
That was over half a decade ago, and he has proven himself a useful asset on many occasions.
Equipment:
- Zidra - His oldest travel companion. The horse has seen much of the world, including the Dwarven city in which she was named. While not as heavy and capable of a charge as some stallions bred for war, Iolyn has yet to see a horse she can't outrun.
Iolyn's Kriegsmesser - While able to be wielded with a shield, Iolyn prefers a more aggressive two-handed style.
Iolyn's Crossbow - Light enough to be used on horseback, it remains Iolyn's preferred way to engage an enemy. This crossbow and Zidra have felled many a foe together.
Iolyn's Armour - Lighter than that of most knights, his preference for boiled leather and mail is yet another holdover from his traveling days.
Skills:
- Horseback Archery - As a wanderer, Iolyn found himself beset more than once by bandits. He very quickly developed a hit-and-run combat style to help deal with their numbers, and escape. To this day he remains deadly accurate even at full gallop.
Knowledge of... - Between his travels and his research, there doesn't seem to be much Iolyn doesn't know. This is notably useful in dealing with those from different cultures and regions. Either helping to negotiate with them, or knowing how they prefer to fight.
Noble Training - While most experienced in fighting with his own blade, his upbringing afforded him experience in using most weapons. He is not afraid to arm himself differently if he knows what foes he will face ahead of time.
Zebanamana
Member
Seen
5 yrs ago
•Name: Eadwig Aethlemund of Yaadsshoppe
•Age: 61
•Gender: Male
•Race: Human
Appearance:
o Eadwig is a grayed old man. In his youth, he had been considered comely enough. Never a man of great looks, but he did have a refined appearance of utility. He is a man of capability and function; his jaw is squared and his nose is crooked from injury. Eadwig’s face is weathered like leather, beaten by the elements and the Sun. Both of his ears have a beaten look from damaged cartilage and frost bite.
With Armor
Without Armor
Eadwig is a squat man of solid build and is strong and centered in his core from years of martial activity. In his older age, he has become more injury prone as his joints have become increasingly taxed and his speed has slowed. He has suffered many broken fingers and toes, his left arm has suffered numerous arrow wounds and a break, and he has broken ribs on many occasions.
•Personality:
o Eadwig is a reserved man of function. He enjoys that things work as planned and work logically. He is also a man who knows his place and believes others should as well. He is an up jumped commoner that understands the nature of the social system. Speaking out of line is dangerous and often stupid in his opinion. For this, he reserves his judgment unless otherwise asked, and he often maintains an aura of impassivity.
He too is a man who does not take loyalty lightly. Loyalty comes with time and trust, and sees this bond as sacred. With his time in the Order, he also has gained a fatherly attitude towards the younger knights. He has a nature to be caring towards them, and to impart wisdom on them without talking down on them, but he does not typically go out of his way to lecture the younger knights unless he believes they truly need it or want it.
Eadwig is a man who unwinds and reflects. He drinks more often then he should, and becomes more insular the more intoxicated he becomes.
•Brief Backstory:
Eadwig is from the village of Yaadsshoppe on the fords of a major tributary of a greater Thaln river way. Yaadsshoppe had been founded by Eadwig’s great great grandfather Yaad who had settled the land for a lumber mill. Yaad and his wife had sixteen children, and the lumber mill became one of the more lucrative properties in their local lord’s demesne. Around Yaad’s great workshop, his children settled into their own homesteads working the land and the forest. Eadwig is the 4th son of a 3rd daughter of the 1st son of the 2nd son of Yaad; his pedigree made him less fortuitous than his cousins higher in the ladder of inheritance. Instead of a merchant or an administrator in the village of Yaadshoppe, Eadwig’s father was a cooper, a barrel maker, and his mother a chandler, or one who made candles. As a boy, Eadwig would tend to the sheep and then to the apiaries they were entrusted before learning more of the cooper trade from his father.
At fourteen a conflict rose up locally and the local lord raised levies. Eadwig and the younger men of the village less inclined to inherit well we taken off for war. During a battle, Eadwig’s greater lord was pinned beneath his dead horse and the young boy held his ground against three successive cavalry sorties with a pitchfork and a barrel lid shield until their soldiers could rally. Eadwig was taken on as a squire by the lord Aethlemund, and by 20 he was knighted for loyal service to Lord Aethlemund and for martial prowess in and out of the number of small local conflicts.
When Lord Aethlemund passed on, Eadwig took on his passion for leal service to the common cause of law and serviced as a sheriff and watchman for several towns and villages before coming to join the Iron Rose at 26. A traditionalist at heart, Eadwig never looked down on the tradition of placing a young woman as the captain of the order. It was a challenge and a trial for all in the Order that would make them stronger; it was never to him to undermine the Captain but to serve. He has dutifully served within the Iron Rose for 35 years in nearly every campaign they have fought in for better or for worse. He has risen up to become a Sergeant of Arms within the Order, responsible for the training of fresh recruits and the drilling of formations. As he has aged, he has taken more of a back seat in combat and has served in the reserve in most recent expeditions and also the standard bearer. Nearing time to retire, Eadwig has been promised a small holdfast in Yaadsshoppe and has taken on the family name of Aethlemund after the man who brought him into the gentry and awaits the time he can move to his small hall and watch his children and grandchildren live a greater life than he had.
• Equipment:
A mustard brown suit of brigandine armor that falls to his knees with plated spaulders, gauntlets, besagews, and couters as armor.
He wears a coat of chain beneath this, and a helmet ontop.
He has a heater shield painted dark blue with a lit candle in the center and two honey bees on both sides and a third directly
below.
An arming sword.
A lance.
A dirk.
A voulge.
A short bow.
Depending on the order of battle, Eadwig will either use his lance or voulge. If it is a cavalry fight he will leave his voulge
behind, but if he is to fight on foot he will take his voulge. This equipment is kept with the supply train.
• Skills:
Skilled in martial arts.
A capable duelist with swords
A more than capable voulge wielder.
Hand to hand (i.e. wrestling)
A capable archer but nothing to write home about.
Horse riding
Beekeeping
Wood working from being a cooper’s son
Barber surgery assistant: he has pulled a number of teeth and helped set a number of bones.
Cooking.
•Age: 61
•Gender: Male
•Race: Human
Appearance:
o Eadwig is a grayed old man. In his youth, he had been considered comely enough. Never a man of great looks, but he did have a refined appearance of utility. He is a man of capability and function; his jaw is squared and his nose is crooked from injury. Eadwig’s face is weathered like leather, beaten by the elements and the Sun. Both of his ears have a beaten look from damaged cartilage and frost bite.
With Armor
Without Armor
Eadwig is a squat man of solid build and is strong and centered in his core from years of martial activity. In his older age, he has become more injury prone as his joints have become increasingly taxed and his speed has slowed. He has suffered many broken fingers and toes, his left arm has suffered numerous arrow wounds and a break, and he has broken ribs on many occasions.
•Personality:
o Eadwig is a reserved man of function. He enjoys that things work as planned and work logically. He is also a man who knows his place and believes others should as well. He is an up jumped commoner that understands the nature of the social system. Speaking out of line is dangerous and often stupid in his opinion. For this, he reserves his judgment unless otherwise asked, and he often maintains an aura of impassivity.
He too is a man who does not take loyalty lightly. Loyalty comes with time and trust, and sees this bond as sacred. With his time in the Order, he also has gained a fatherly attitude towards the younger knights. He has a nature to be caring towards them, and to impart wisdom on them without talking down on them, but he does not typically go out of his way to lecture the younger knights unless he believes they truly need it or want it.
Eadwig is a man who unwinds and reflects. He drinks more often then he should, and becomes more insular the more intoxicated he becomes.
•Brief Backstory:
Eadwig is from the village of Yaadsshoppe on the fords of a major tributary of a greater Thaln river way. Yaadsshoppe had been founded by Eadwig’s great great grandfather Yaad who had settled the land for a lumber mill. Yaad and his wife had sixteen children, and the lumber mill became one of the more lucrative properties in their local lord’s demesne. Around Yaad’s great workshop, his children settled into their own homesteads working the land and the forest. Eadwig is the 4th son of a 3rd daughter of the 1st son of the 2nd son of Yaad; his pedigree made him less fortuitous than his cousins higher in the ladder of inheritance. Instead of a merchant or an administrator in the village of Yaadshoppe, Eadwig’s father was a cooper, a barrel maker, and his mother a chandler, or one who made candles. As a boy, Eadwig would tend to the sheep and then to the apiaries they were entrusted before learning more of the cooper trade from his father.
At fourteen a conflict rose up locally and the local lord raised levies. Eadwig and the younger men of the village less inclined to inherit well we taken off for war. During a battle, Eadwig’s greater lord was pinned beneath his dead horse and the young boy held his ground against three successive cavalry sorties with a pitchfork and a barrel lid shield until their soldiers could rally. Eadwig was taken on as a squire by the lord Aethlemund, and by 20 he was knighted for loyal service to Lord Aethlemund and for martial prowess in and out of the number of small local conflicts.
When Lord Aethlemund passed on, Eadwig took on his passion for leal service to the common cause of law and serviced as a sheriff and watchman for several towns and villages before coming to join the Iron Rose at 26. A traditionalist at heart, Eadwig never looked down on the tradition of placing a young woman as the captain of the order. It was a challenge and a trial for all in the Order that would make them stronger; it was never to him to undermine the Captain but to serve. He has dutifully served within the Iron Rose for 35 years in nearly every campaign they have fought in for better or for worse. He has risen up to become a Sergeant of Arms within the Order, responsible for the training of fresh recruits and the drilling of formations. As he has aged, he has taken more of a back seat in combat and has served in the reserve in most recent expeditions and also the standard bearer. Nearing time to retire, Eadwig has been promised a small holdfast in Yaadsshoppe and has taken on the family name of Aethlemund after the man who brought him into the gentry and awaits the time he can move to his small hall and watch his children and grandchildren live a greater life than he had.
• Equipment:
A mustard brown suit of brigandine armor that falls to his knees with plated spaulders, gauntlets, besagews, and couters as armor.
He wears a coat of chain beneath this, and a helmet ontop.
He has a heater shield painted dark blue with a lit candle in the center and two honey bees on both sides and a third directly
below.
An arming sword.
A lance.
A dirk.
A voulge.
A short bow.
Depending on the order of battle, Eadwig will either use his lance or voulge. If it is a cavalry fight he will leave his voulge
behind, but if he is to fight on foot he will take his voulge. This equipment is kept with the supply train.
• Skills:
Skilled in martial arts.
A capable duelist with swords
A more than capable voulge wielder.
Hand to hand (i.e. wrestling)
A capable archer but nothing to write home about.
Horse riding
Beekeeping
Wood working from being a cooper’s son
Barber surgery assistant: he has pulled a number of teeth and helped set a number of bones.
Cooking.
Zelosse The Entity
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
@VitaVitaAR
- Name: Elron Del Rado
- Age: 75
- Gender: Male
- Race: Human
- Appearance:
- Personality: ELron is a straight forward and to-the-point kind of man. Opinionated, gentle, calm. A life of training and scholarly duties has molded the mans once wild and unruly spirit into that of a focused and determined teacher of the mystic arts. Out of combat Elron is often described as the studious or craftsman type of people, always doing something with his mind or his hands, be it writing down in his personal journal or wittling a piece of wood. Always in motion somehow. Despite his age, he does not exhibit the usual sluggishness older folks often display. Quite the contrary. Elron has participated in contests of determination and stamina on many occasions and out-lasted his younger competitors many times. Often to the disbelief of his peers.
The elderly man has an aura of understanding to him, non judgemental and unbiased, firmly believing that every person is unique and allowed their opinions. Even if you do not agree with anothers personal philosophies of life, love, race, and creed, it is his duty to foster positive growth and cooperation among all under his care. He fancies himself as a grandfather to nearly everyone he has become close to. - Brief Backstory: Elron was born to a frail mother and a father he had never met. The result of a love that could never be and a wedge that drove them apart. His mother had been a middle aged woman at his birth and passed on a year after he was born, an unknown disease had wracked her already frail body into the grave. Raised in an orphanage till he was 10, Elron had shown the signs of restlessness. Often sneaking out of his confines and exploring the immediate area around his 'home'. Every month he would explore further and further, hoping to find something, anything, that could occupy his mind from the empty chores of home.
On a midsummer eve the lad stumbled through the familiar alleyways and happened upon a man laying in the gutters. The man was old, older than most, with a long graying beard and salt and pepper hair flowing past his back. His clothing was stained and patched up by unskilled hands.
At first Elron left the man alone and returned to his usual exploration. But as weeks turned to months he saw more and more of the man laying in the alleyways asleep or writing in a small leather journal. A leather journal that was stolen by sticky fingered young Elron. There were parts he could not read and others written in a language he was certain nobody could read.
Like a hungry wolf the boy devoured every page, reading about the mysteries of this man who had so painstakingly recorded everything in this seemingly endless little notebook. Only when the sun rose that he felt the guilt of having stolen the written life of a wanderer. Disobeying his matrons, Elron fled the orphanage and scoured the streets alone for weeks. Thoughts of his life at the orphanarium fled from his occupied mind to be replaced with his burning need to return what he had stolen and make right the wrong no matter the consequence.
It took almost a month of searching but on a cold winters night he found him. Wrapped up in a dirty old blanket with his hands waving in the air, Elron found the dirty scholar not far from the orphanage. Tension flared the moment their eyes met and the man rose to his feet with surprise as he saw the young boy holding his book. The discussion that followed was one of apologies and understanding. Malcaz Rado was a pious man and an avid practitioner of the magical arts. His life on the streets was self-inflicted and enjoyed. Free of the intrigues that plagued the colleges of magic. Malcaz believed that the power to wield magic was a gift meant to uphold the worlds sacred laws and protect those that would not or could not fight for themselves.
Elron bowed his head and became a disciple of the wanderer and ventured with him for nearly 10 years. During his tutelage, the apprentice quickly adapted to the new life and the training of his master. Even adopting the last name he now carries as homage. Trained to harness magic and turn it to powerful spells, Elron displayed an impressive mastery over the lightning element and flaunted his power with enthusiasm and joy. Malcaz and his young apprentice served as body guards and tutors on their days following the road with little cares and a great amount of personal happiness but to Elron it seemed that every passing day his master grew weaker and weaker but whenever Elron tried to get help the man always turned it away.
Malcaz Rado died at the age of 20 a day after enrolling his prized disciple and adopted son into the Mages college, accepting the gifted young man with open arms and respect. Honoring the final wishes of one of the most decorated scholars to have graced the sacred halls.
Nearly 40 years later, Elron Del Rado has achieved the same status as his master and walked the world with open eyes and an open heart, free from the hate that clouds the eyes of warriors and unshrouded by the often disrespectful haughty ways of the mages.
Elron had joined the ranks of the Knights in his 40's and became a tutor to the young wizards of the order as a way of remembering his master Malcaz and his tutelage. - Equipment:
Leather bound journal
Arcana Tome
Pencils
Small carving knife
Rapier - Though unskilled with the weapon he can still use it to defend himself before unleashing a spell. - Skills:
Thunderclap - Striking his palms together, he produces a blinding flash of static electricity to shock and throw back his opponents.
Thunderbolt - A focused bolt of lightning fired from his extended index and middle finger, searing through the first target it hits.
Seraphs hammer - Elron channels a powerful globe of thunder in his hand and thrusts it at his enemy. The resulting detonation, while not very damaging, will often stun an opponent and throw them to the ground with a deafening explosion.
Arc Lightning - A weak, but effective lightning spell, a simple bolt of charged fury strikes out at the nearest target before bouncing to any nearby targets. Each consecutive bolt is less effective than the initial blast.
Storm cone - Wild static electricity arcs out from both outstretched hands in a short area in front of the caster, causing severe burns and muscle spasms. In most cases this spell can be lethal.
Electric Mine - A condensed ball of lightning is thrown to the ground where it crackles until someone approaches, detonating the spell. The effect is similar to thunderclap but in a less effective form.
City of gold - Elron unleashes a globe of static electricity into the air that rains golden thunder down upon his target.
Skys Wrath - Elrons most powerful and destructive spell, channeling the essence his arcane magic, a gargantuan bolt of golden thunder plummets from the skies to destroy anything in its path.
Blink - A short range teleport capable of transporting Elron and one other target.
Thunder-rush - Empowered blink, where a lightning bolt strikes wherever he teleports to.
Elron is not restricted to just thunder magic, thanks to his many years as both a tutor and a scholar of the magical arts. Though not as proficient in their use he is capable of casting many other situational spells, like frost bolts, fireballs, and minor healing.
Anton "Teller" Duboi
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: Teller stands at 6 feet tall with a style all his own, forgoing the knight in shining armor role and jumping right into the mad surgeon territory. A long coat made of tough but faded leather, matching gloves and solid boots with plating on the front, make up his usual attire. Chainmail has been sewn into the fabric making it a tad heavy but offering excellent protection. Perhaps the most striking feature is the mask he wears, featuring a conical 'beak' extending from the nose with two large green glass eyes. His face is entirely obscured, but his vision despite the helmet is entirely unrestricted. Inside the 'beak' is a soft incense meant to relax him and break down harsh poisons. A tophat for style finishes the look.
His outer coat has a belt wrapping around from shoulder to hip with 3 flasks filled with, in order; Lethal Toxin, numbing poison, healing salve. There are a few more caches of these liquids on his person at all times along with 5 syringes all full of one of the toxins. On his person for all to see is a small enchanted hand crossbow, to which he has a holster of bolts in his coat for ready use.
(The glasses of his mask and the vials are not glowing green. The glasses are clear, if a bit dark. As for his vials, they are all kept in crystal clear vials of enchanted glass. To prevent shattering.)
Personality: The green eyes of the mask hides the sadistic and cruel disposition of Doctor Anton 'Teller' Duboi. Dissecting monsters and men alike in the name of science, this cleaver wielding physician has horror stories told of him to children across the world. The remains of his victims are said to be found cleaved open like a stuffed pig after being subjected to the worst tortures the mind could dare comprehend. To see the beak of the Doctor was to know agony as your blood turned black.
Of course most of these are lies told by the easily frightened!
Anton Duboi is a studious and honorable fellow, in his own way, and though he does partake in the dissection and study of creatures far and wide it is only if they were killed after attacking him. Though it should be stated that Anton will not dissect a living creature, nor a living man. Unless it is to try and sew up internal bleeding or any other life threatening injury. New life is cherished and recorded by Anton in a leather bound, locked, booklet in his jacket with detailed descriptions of vital points, habits, diet, and lethality. Only when the creature forces him to kill it will the doctor examine it more thoroughly. Usually to the displeasure of his companions. Despite that grim work it is for the purpose of teaching the others of the order what to expect and give them a fighting chance against opponents they had never faced before. Knowledge was power.
Though his habitual need to know is put in a bad light there is still much to be gained from Antons presence on and off the field. Decorated field surgeon, explorer, alchemist. This man has seen and done things others dream of on dark star filled nights from their beds. The problem is that you can only see so much before you become something else entirely.
The problem with Teller is that he talks. A lot. Oh he can be quite silent when he must and creep up on just about anyone for his rendition of 'quiet nights'. To which he will often drug a foe with tranquilizer and send them to their rest after he has asked his questions.
Brief Backstory: Born and raised in Thaln with his family, working in the hospitals and homes of the nobility, Anton was given medical training from the day he could read and write. Everything and anything that could be taught was crammed into his head. Every surgery his father ever performed had an audience of one, his son watching the deft strokes of the blade and the systematic perfection of cutting away dead or infected flesh only to be sewn up again like new. But the fascination for surgery was outshined by witnessing the corpses of those afflicted with disease or poison.
The decaying process, to Anton at least, was a beautiful nightmare made real. One man with a disease could kill thousands with a cough. Truly it frightened the boy beyond measure to think of such a powerful weapon created by the gods to strike down men. A weapon Anton did not realize he wanted to wield one day. But the problem was, and still is to this day, the 'how' of it all. Sorcerers could conjure illness but Anton was no finger waggler or practitioner of the arts. His was the calling of a surgeon.
On his 18th birthday, by this time a well known assistant to his father, Anton joined the knights of the rose as a combat medic and ventured with various squadrons to eliminate all manners of threat to the order and the people of the world. The mission had been to infiltrate a cultist organization and eradicate their stronghold. Believing their numbers were relatively small, the duty of destroying them went to a small group of knights rather than a traditionally larger squadron. The fighting was merciless, as the knights were outnumbers badly and ambushed. Those that were not killed outright were dragged off and strapped to tables to await the sacrificial blade plunging into their chest. Incapable of moving, the man was a liability to the mission. Anton was forced to wield a blade for the first time to strike down his commanding officer when the man fell victim to a paralyzing poison of some kind.
Fleeing the fortress cost half the lives of the small party, the rest carrying wounded across their shoulders but the going was slow. Everyone in the group knew that the downed members were dragging down the teams chances of survival. With enemies approaching their position there would be no time to operate of find a way to stop the effects, the officer asked that the brave injured be given a merciful and clean end. A mercy killing to end the pain of what would have been a horrible death otherwise.
Awarded some minor honors and a promotion to a position inside the order, a promotion borne more from the need to help with his trauma, that would stop him from needing to go on more missions was his reward upon return. Anton all but spat on the idea of staying in the orders midst and never seeing the wider world.
Nineteen years later at the age of 37, the mad surgeon Anton 'teller' Duboi still ventures out into the world to save the lives of his comrades and take the lives of any that threaten his homeland. Though not popular, the opinions of the protected mean little to him.
Equipment: Toxicity master - The belt of toxins on his chest contains a powerful anesthetic, a healing salve, and a vial of the deadliest toxic concoction Anton ever conceived.
Quiver of bolts resting in his left side coat in a custom holster to prevent them from moving or making noise as he moves.
Right hip is a hand crafted miniature crossbow pistol. While not very powerful, the bolts are razor sharp and coated in his poisons for rapid application.
In the pocket of his coat is a medical kit, complete with; Gauze, bandages, healing salve, burn ointment, incense, scissors, scalpel, tweezers, rubbing alcohol.
On his left hip is a a curved Khopesh kept at a razor sharp edge. The weapon itself is largely used as a butchers cleaver on the operating table. One clean stroke can take an infected arm off at the elbow.
Skills:
Master Surgeon - Advanced medical treatments, capable of field surgery, master of medicines and poisons, and an alarming understanding of creature anatomy.
Toxic immunity - Not complete immunity but it would take the sting of a very dangerous creature to bring this doctor to deaths door. Airborne poisons have no effect thanks to the incense of the mask he wears.
Combat proficient - Fighting in the field as soldier and surgeon alike has led to the development of Tellers reflexes and battle readiness, making this healer a monster in the thick of a fight and operating in a hospital.
Dead nerves - While not necessarily a 'skill' it should be stated that, thanks to all the chemicals he has inhaled or injected himself with, the nerves on a large part of his body to not allow him to experience physical pain to the same degree others might.
- Name: Martina Stonehammer
- Age: 22, although due to her height she's often thought to be younger.
- Gender: Female
- Race: Half-dwarf. All this really means is she'll live slightly longer than a human would (barring accidents or illness), is a bit short and has to shave roughly once a month.
- Appearance: Something like this. Like her dwarven ancestors, she often takes the no-nonsense approach to problems.
- Personality: To the casual observer, it would seem that Martina predominantly takes from her dwarfish side, being rather gruff and overly serious. She is an exceptionally hard worker and stubbornly refuses to give anything less than her all towards any given task. However, closer inspection will reveal that she does take quite a lot from her mother too, as she is rather open-minded and curious as humans are wont to be. To her, the most important thing is to follow her duty, and this combined with her dwarfish stubborness and her human recklessness means that if she is told to hold the line, she will damn well hold the line until her dying breath.
- Brief Backstory:Dwarfs are an uncommon sight in Thaln, but they're not entirely unknown of. Every so often, traders and merchants emerge from their mountain homes and head to human settlements, intending to trade the metals and gemstones they mined and the exceptional weapons and armour they smithed for materials and supplies that are much rarer in the mountains. And whilst many of them immediately return to the mountains when their business is done, one dwarf in particular found himself setting up permanent residence in Aimlenn. His name was Aaron Stonehammer, and with the skills and knowledge gained after over a century spent in the business he found himself being voted in as the head of the city's Merchants Guild. Such a position allowed him to mingle with the higher parts of society, and it wasn't very long before her met one Lady Lieselotte Blumenthal, a minor noble whose family had a strong association with the guild. Soon, despite how unorthodox it may have seemed to others, the two fell in love, and... Well, the result was Martina, formed from the rare union of dwarf and human.
Despite having to put up with a bit of prejudice due to her nature as a halfbreed, Martina seemed to grow up rather well-adjusted. Whilst she intends to eventually inherit the family business (as her father has taught her is the dwarfish tradition), she also had an inherent need to prove her martial prowess (...as her father has taught her is the dwarfish tradition). Thus, as soon as she was of age she joined the Iron Rose Knights... Although she often has to juggle her obligations to the knights with her obligation to learn the family trade, and occasionally takes time off to do so. Despite this, she's as dedicated to both as she can possibly be, a testament to the dwarf blood that flows through her veins. - Equipment: Martina wields a finely crafted dwarven warhammer and shield, and wears a suit of mail under her tunic. The hammer is a heirloom of her father's side of the family, and as can be expected from an ancestral dwarfish weapon it is engraved with runes of magical power; due to this, it becomes superheated whenever she swings it with the intent to cause harm.
- Skills: Martina is a mighty warrior; she has to be, otherwise it would bring shame to her ancestors. She specializes in close-quarters combat, often charging into the thick of things where her hammer can do the most damage. As a testament to her dwarfish heritage, whilst on the warpath she is like the mountains; relentless, indomitable and refusing to budge an inch once she's dug herself in. Aside from warfare, she's also rather knowledgable in the fields of economics, and is able to easily appraise the value of numerous objects if given enough time to give them a good look over.
chukklehed Sorcerer Supreme with a medium rootbeer
Member
Seen
5 yrs ago
Name: Christina de Kiermo
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance:
Personality:
Christina is a stoic sort, rarely speaking unless spoken to first and almost never showing any emotion stronger than mild interest. While she detests mindless violence or any kind of malicious action, she has no issue wounding or even killing for 'the right reasons.' This generally means she won't get involved with conflict until she's attacked personally or until she's ordered to. Beneath her rock hard exterior a gentler side is buried, usually only glimpsed when she tries to take in stray animals.
Brief Backstory:
Christina is the only child of Marcus de Kiermo, lord of a tiny, backwater barony deep in the south of Thaln. With the baroness dead of sickness and no male children, Christina became the heir apparent to her father's lands, and so she was sent to the capital to join the Iron Rose Knights and bring the de Kiermo name to light.
Equipment:
Christina wears a light suit of armor passed down from her grandmother, made to sacrifice the protection of full plate for extra mobility. Conversely, she carries a massive tower shield larger than herself and thicker than almost any armor. For offense, she has a thin shortsword and a swordbreaker dagger.
Skills:
Christina is unusually strong, able to wield her massive shield relatively easily. She also knows a little magic, which she uses to accompany her shield.
Shove - An intense wave of force, usually using Christina's shield as a conduit, strong enough to throw a grown man off his feet.
Ward - A magical defense spell which blocks nonphysical attacks up to a certain point. This spell can be cast on an object to protect it, and has a medium length incantation. Overlapping a Ward with a Barrier violently cancels both out.
Barrier - A magical defense spell which blocks physical attacks up to a certain point. This spell can be cast on an object to protect it, and has a medium length incantation. Overlapping a Barrier with a Ward violently cancels both out.
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance:
Personality:
Christina is a stoic sort, rarely speaking unless spoken to first and almost never showing any emotion stronger than mild interest. While she detests mindless violence or any kind of malicious action, she has no issue wounding or even killing for 'the right reasons.' This generally means she won't get involved with conflict until she's attacked personally or until she's ordered to. Beneath her rock hard exterior a gentler side is buried, usually only glimpsed when she tries to take in stray animals.
Brief Backstory:
Christina is the only child of Marcus de Kiermo, lord of a tiny, backwater barony deep in the south of Thaln. With the baroness dead of sickness and no male children, Christina became the heir apparent to her father's lands, and so she was sent to the capital to join the Iron Rose Knights and bring the de Kiermo name to light.
Equipment:
Christina wears a light suit of armor passed down from her grandmother, made to sacrifice the protection of full plate for extra mobility. Conversely, she carries a massive tower shield larger than herself and thicker than almost any armor. For offense, she has a thin shortsword and a swordbreaker dagger.
Skills:
Christina is unusually strong, able to wield her massive shield relatively easily. She also knows a little magic, which she uses to accompany her shield.
Shove - An intense wave of force, usually using Christina's shield as a conduit, strong enough to throw a grown man off his feet.
Ward - A magical defense spell which blocks nonphysical attacks up to a certain point. This spell can be cast on an object to protect it, and has a medium length incantation. Overlapping a Ward with a Barrier violently cancels both out.
Barrier - A magical defense spell which blocks physical attacks up to a certain point. This spell can be cast on an object to protect it, and has a medium length incantation. Overlapping a Barrier with a Ward violently cancels both out.
Name: Viviane Elize Kresznik
Sex: Female
Age: 22
Race: Human
She has bright blond hair tied into a loose ponytail paired with her fair skin makes for a delicate image. Her Slim build often does little to deny the fact. She has bright green eyes and stands around the height of 5'4. Her body is slim and limber a result of her training she took up from a young age.
Personality:
Viviane is extremely prideful and a bit haughty always holding herself to be one of the best. She hates being rejected and only really wants to be accepted for who she is. With that said she means well despite everything no matter how she boasts she does know that she is not perfect and that there will always be someone stronger. She loves a good fight always willing to fight should the need arise. Despite this attitude she can not stand war itself seeing it as needless killing. She can be a caring person but it is often hard for people to see past her flaws.
Skills/Talents:
Swordsmanship - Skilled with the sword she often tends to aim for certain points on the body first to disarm than for the kill. Her style with the sword is unique in the fact that is a offensive style with heavy blows but she is also able should the need arise to block and deflect blows with her sword. She disdains fighting styles that often deals damage with more roundabout ways like fencing. She is ferocious in a fight often trying to give the enemy little room to block or attack.
Spearmanship - One of her two main forms of combat she is just as skilled with the spear as her sword. Though she prefers using a sword her skill with a spear is just as good. Her style with a spear slightly resembles her one with a sword. She is quick and ferocious with her attacks using every part of the spear to her advantage.
Horse-riding/Mounted combat - Her skill while mounted is no less diminished being raised to be able to fight both on and off a saddle she is more than ready to fight.
Spearmanship - One of her two main forms of combat she is just as skilled with the spear as her sword. Though she prefers using a sword her skill with a spear is just as good. Her style with a spear slightly resembles her one with a sword. She is quick and ferocious with her attacks using every part of the spear to her advantage.
Horse-riding/Mounted combat - Her skill while mounted is no less diminished being raised to be able to fight both on and off a saddle she is more than ready to fight.
Equipment/Weapons:
long sword - A rather unique sword with scarlet decorations along the sword. The sword itself is a unique as a large two handed arming sword. The sword itself is somewhat heavier than normal and with runes along the blade that makes it sharper than normal.
Long spear - A long barbed spear that is rather simple in design and function it lacks any enchantments.
Plate Armor - She wears a unique set of plate armor covering most of her body. Its unique design meant to deflect blades. Its layered design meant to add more protection while the spiked arm guards were designed to be able to counter and block attacks due to her refusing to use a shield.
Long spear - A long barbed spear that is rather simple in design and function it lacks any enchantments.
Plate Armor - She wears a unique set of plate armor covering most of her body. Its unique design meant to deflect blades. Its layered design meant to add more protection while the spiked arm guards were designed to be able to counter and block attacks due to her refusing to use a shield.
Biography:
Viviane was born into the old noble line of Kresznik. Though in current times their name and family is not as well known as it once was. Despite that the family was content or was till Viviane was born despite being the illegitimate child of her father she was still raised as one of his own. This caused discord in the family as her mother disdained for getting what she wanted the status and the comfortable living that was supposed to be hers. While her step mother hated and despised her for being the "stray" that wandered in and started bothering her "perfect" family.
Her father on the other loved and cared for her despite everything. This made Viviane wanting to make her father proud so she took to the sword. Seeing her skill only made her father prouder of her. Though with most things all good things come to an end. Overtime her father cold and distant towards her. Being his only child and without a son made it where he had no heir. When she rose to the challenge and said she could do it but it was not to be. Being denied and hearing how she was nothing more than a "stray" as her step mother said she lashed out and rebelled. Despite the fathers effort on why she wasn't able to be the "heir" Viviane refused to listen seeing it as if her father betrayed her.
Her father loved her still and wanted the best but felt that despite having the skill she lacked a certain quality that was required to really be the heir. Viviane did not see it like that however and saw it as if her father didn't want her, hated her and wanted her gone. Feelings that her step mother only encouraged pushing more and more in effort to deepen the divide between father and daughter. Till it started Viviane had enough the trigger being her father's sudden refusal to meet her gaze. This was the final straw with that she lashed out taking only what she deemed needed. It was going to be a rebellion against her beautiful father. Leaving without a single look back she traveled and due to her skill she was sure that she would be able to gain a spot as a knight. It would take time but she would become the best so that her father had to admit that she was worthy than and only than would they all see how wrong they were. Her rebellion against her father would end when he finally saw that she was worthy more than worthy of being the heir.
Her father on the other loved and cared for her despite everything. This made Viviane wanting to make her father proud so she took to the sword. Seeing her skill only made her father prouder of her. Though with most things all good things come to an end. Overtime her father cold and distant towards her. Being his only child and without a son made it where he had no heir. When she rose to the challenge and said she could do it but it was not to be. Being denied and hearing how she was nothing more than a "stray" as her step mother said she lashed out and rebelled. Despite the fathers effort on why she wasn't able to be the "heir" Viviane refused to listen seeing it as if her father betrayed her.
Her father loved her still and wanted the best but felt that despite having the skill she lacked a certain quality that was required to really be the heir. Viviane did not see it like that however and saw it as if her father didn't want her, hated her and wanted her gone. Feelings that her step mother only encouraged pushing more and more in effort to deepen the divide between father and daughter. Till it started Viviane had enough the trigger being her father's sudden refusal to meet her gaze. This was the final straw with that she lashed out taking only what she deemed needed. It was going to be a rebellion against her beautiful father. Leaving without a single look back she traveled and due to her skill she was sure that she would be able to gain a spot as a knight. It would take time but she would become the best so that her father had to admit that she was worthy than and only than would they all see how wrong they were. Her rebellion against her father would end when he finally saw that she was worthy more than worthy of being the heir.
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