Member
dragonpiece
Fallenreaper
Punished GN
Damycles
Echotech71
Ti
EmethHere is my character. I've left a number of details open ended for her to make her easier to work with in terms of story implementation. That being said she's still a bit out there so I hope she's acceptable.
Gangraena
Undead Proto-Human
Female
Unknown, even to her.
Standing at around one hundred and eighty four centimeters and weighing ninety kilograms (two hundred and four kilograms while armored) this terrifying undead warrior commands an imposing presence on the battlefield. While fighting foes might give wonder as to how this threat manages to even move under the layers upon layers of armor that's been bolted onto the suit over time, let alone so deftly, but even the wildest speculations fail to capture just what exactly lurks in the dark recesses of this metal behemoth.
For a corpse that has been lost in the great oceans for eras upon eras she looks relatively okay, albeit still wholly unearthly as something returned from a watery grave might. Her flesh remains largely unscoured by the tides and while patches here and there have been nicked and pierced the only major sign of deterioration is the hollow sockets that remain where once eyes rested. Any who stare into them would find only not even the back of her skull to gaze upon, just an infinite abyss with the only feature standing out from it being a distant yellow light, one for each socket, like a gleaming star far up into the ever vast night sky.
Apart from that eyes her skin is blue from asphyxiation and her hair remains a disheveled kelp green color, a characteristic of her ancient and long forgotten heritage. Her droning voice seems to echo from her, originating from her chest but also not. Her build is broad, lean but muscular as she was a warrior once in life, just as she continues to be in death. She is rarely seen outside her armor, though for the time being her recent defeat and subjugation at the hands of the warden have left her equipment in their mercy.
Terrifying, brutal, relentless. These are words all who've fought her would use to describe her save her last foe.
Actually talking to her however and you'd realize that this large imposing zombie is actually quite pleasantly chipper, albeit slow of speech and a fair bit confused to the world as a whole. Though she has no need to eat nor drink nor even sleep she enjoys the simple things in life. A glorious sunrise, a calm meadow, the smattering of light through a tree's canopy or even a merry tune, Gangraena doesn't need much and is rather happy with what she gets. She is no stranger to violence and speaks it's language well but she rarely means ill of it. It's simply something that she does, both a mere fact of life and the mercenary business where she plies her trade readily and without much question.
Having spent as much time lost in the deepest recesses of the ocean floor for as long as she has she's developed a great amount of patience, years passing not unlike the days themselves. She's not one for long grudges nor great bouts of anger. She is also not overly critical of others for their vices, beliefs or characteristics. The whole world is strange to her but she welcomes it's many wonders as well as any break from monotony or solitude.
One oddity about her is that she herself isn't terribly clear on who she is herself. She has memories of her past but so much time has past their details have grown fuzzy, inaccurate even. As for what she even is she hasn't much the faintest clue either.
Gangraena was born long ago, in a civilization that predates many kingdoms of man. In an era of things lost to the ages, where humanity flourished before a great fall cast it all under the rug of history, a time once mere myth now simply forgotten, there was a family of great warriors who fought on behalf of the glory of their gods. This family bore three brothers and six daughters, one of which was named Gangraena. She was the strongest of them all, able to move most naturally in heavier armor. Her wits however were perhaps as sharp as her mace. She never had an affinity for matters of great complexity, always a creature of simplicity. Despite her shortcomings she was still deemed fit to fight the unnatural in the names of their gods.
Of course, she would never see her first crusade as the waves claimed her before any blade, tooth or claw could. When a terrible storm struck her sea vessel the chains around an anchor bound her leg and drug her overboard once it's restraints had snapped. Like a metal pebble in a great big pond she sank in her heavy plated suit of armor, now a watery coffin as she swiftly drowned. This was the end of Gangraena.
_
When her body reached the ocean floor however something else happened upon her corpse, one of a few that were brought down there and not by chance. These drowned were selected and drawn to an ancient altar lost to the tides from times ancient even back in these times lost to time. Upon this altar an ancient being that remained trapped below the great waters sewed into these vessels dark spirits which animated them. These dark spirits would take these new shells of theirs and return to the surface and sew the ancient being's influence about the world once more, corrupting and weakening it until the time was right for it to escape it's oceanic prison and consume the world just as it tried to do once before.
The dark spirits kept the memories of the drowned as a guide to help them navigate the surface. Many of them ventured forth, each one meeting any number of different fates, none truly successful. Gangraena's host however did not find it's way back to the surface. Due to being bound to both her body, her armor and her anchor as it could not discern them apart from one another the dark spirit could not simply float up from the depths like the others. This dark spirit was forced to wander, anchored to the ocean floor as it trudged through valleys deeper than any known to the surface world, over mountains taller than any that could be found above. Due to inheriting the drowned's poor sense of direction it remained lost for countless centuries, walking to and fro across the vast ocean landscape, often times finding itself going in circles.
This continued for so long that the spirit's own mind started to warp. Delirious from the ceaseless tedium of wandering without ever finding land this dark spirit started finding itself mixing it's own memories up with that of the host it had taken. What once was a map slowly grew to become it's identity as it eventually lost sight of it's very purpose. It no longer remembered the very purpose it was given to this host for, nor of the being that put it inside this shell in the first place. All that it knew for real mingled with the life that Gangraena had known until a muddy sheet of indistinct memories both native and inherited blurred into one single past. All that it cared for now was to find the surface. It couldn't remember why it wanted to but it seemed like the right thing to do.
_
Eventually the dark spirit who believed itself to be the very shell it inhabited found it's way to dry land. What she found delighted her as she wandered the beaches until shortly happening upon a humble fishing village. The villagers were frightened but reluctant to flee and abandon all their belongings. Instead they complied to her wishes and relieved to find that she was relatively peaceful, speaking in an unknown language with an eerie voice but not aggressive. It was here that she started learning the land's language, listening to the village people speak and figuring out their words while she helped chop and carry firewood for them during her stay.
Eventually a mercenary company by the name of The Grey Auxilliary docked at their little village for supplies and happened upon Gangraena. Now able to carry a rudimentary conversation she spoke with the captain of these mercenaries, impressing them with her unnatural might. Seeing if this strange being was amicable they offered her employment and she accepted. To them this might of been the breakthrough they needed to help stand out from other upcoming mercenary companies and earn themselves a reputation. To her this was just another chance to see and experience new things while also getting the chance to fight which was fun too.
A decade of fighting later and this company had slowly but surely dwindled until only their captain and Gangranea remained. Their times together were glorious and many a battle was won but unlike Gangraena the men and women of this company were mortal. Be it death in combat, injury or longing to start a family the various members of their crew each fell way whilst Gangraena remained, an unchanging feature which had cemented herself in this company's renown. Their leader, old man Grey Hound was growing too old and injured to fight himself too. Seeing as Gangraena had kept with them through the greatest times of their career he passed leadership of the company onto her before he retired from the life of a mercenary to enjoy his hard earned cash.
Gangraena was now the only remaining member of The Grey Auxiliary. She never made an effort to recruit more members, largely as the very thought never entered her head. Instead she simply kept taking jobs and killing on behalf of those who'd give her money, stripping away armor from those she slays and crudely bolting them onto her platemail which is how she eventually became a metal behemoth of some fame amongst warriors around. It seemed she wasn't weakening either, her strength no longer comparable to mortal men and women of mundane make.
However with fame comes attention and her exploits eventually drew the ire of the king himself. Whatever his reasons he set up a trap, a false job which she took. Upon arrival she was swarmed with men. Their weapons could not best her great armor and their own protections offered no safety from the great anchor she swung with the same grace and precision one would swing a sword. Of course there was something present that she had not encountered yet: Magic. Divine casters beseeched their god and smote her with their holy magic. Not able to guard against it she eventually collapsed, men rushing her prone form and lashing her down with ropes and chains. While she had not perished again from their divine assault as she had grown quite powerful, enough even to withstand more than most undead could ever hope to, she was not able to continue the fight in her state. Fighting more would of simply resulted in her dying again and that didn't sound fun.
Thus, she resides now in the oubliette of great threats simply known as The Maw. Amongst the most dangerous foes the king's laid claim to for purposes known only to himself and select others she finally fits in, though there's still not a lot of things truly like her.
At least, none where anyone can find them.
Starting with her skills she is a trained warrior, educated from youth in warfare and battle. Having spent a decade putting that knowledge to use has helped in giving her the practical experience she needed to become an experienced warrior, honing her skills against many a foe. Her other skills and knowledges largely compliment her trade, having a basic knowledge of metal and leather working so that she may upkeep her weapon and armor.
As for her abilities her most noticeable features are that of undeath. Being undead she has no need for food, water or even sleep. She can see in the dark no less than she can in the day and she is not beholden to fatigue. Without pain she cannot feel discomfort from heat or cold, only suffering degradation to her material form from extremes of either temperature. All that can stand to put an end to her once and for all would be destruction of her material form or magic of sufficient potency, her organs only remaining because nothing has given them cause to leave her body.
Her true power however comes from the more sinister function of her dark spirit: The ability to devour the souls of those slain by her. The spirit passively consumes the souls of her victims, unaware that it's even doing so. With each soul devoured Gangraena slowly gains in might, little by little. This is what has given Gangraena the strength of ten grown men and also part of how Gangraena wears her armor and wields her anchor so easily. The dark spirit partially haunts the armor and anchor so it lets Gangraena move them around almost like they were her own limbs. In time as the spirit gains strength she may be able to eventually even move her armor and weapon on their own with her very mind, albeit slowly to start. What else might rise from her spiritual growth remains unknown to many, herself included.
Aside from all that Gangraena also possesses an immunity to the damaging influences of the ocean due to an old pact between it and the entity her dark spirit was manifested from. She will suffer neither deterioration from the salty waters nor be crushed by the weight of the depths and many of the predators which lurk deep in the dark waters below will simply ignore Gangraena unless she threatens their safety.
As an undead creature her greatest flaw is that she does not heal naturally. Any harm dealt unto her physical vessel must be repaired manually using parts from another body to fill in for what is missing. These parts may inherit her will but will not carry her strength until they've remained with her for some time, the longer the better. Much the same applies to her armor and weapon, both needing upkeep when damaged as they are a part of her. Being separated from her armor reduced her overall might by a third and once again should she be separated from her anchor, reducing her down to a single third of her original might.
Being an undead creature magic that affects the undead will affect her similarly, weakened by her overall might but all the same a hurdle unique to undead like her. As for her darkvision while she is able to see in the dark no less than she can in the day she cannot see colors, her entire worldview stuck perpetually in monochrome. There are also certain limitations imposed by her armor's design such as a limited field of view and range of motion allowed for her arms. Practice has allowed her to better work around these but only to an extent.
As a person her biggest weakness is that she is a simple creature at heart. She doesn't plan far or deep, has no talent for complex ideas and can become easily confused in this world now well removed from the one she faintly remembers. If someone needs a person with quick wits and an even quicker tongue to solve a predicament then she'd be the last candidate to ask.
Worst of all is that she came with obligations. She may have forgotten them but something out there still remembers and is still waiting... Watching.
The only equipment kept by Gangraena are those she perished with: Her plated armor and her anchor. Both are crafted initially with fine steel, iron and other such terrestrial metals being slapped on to patch them until both armor and weapon now resemble a patchwork of different fixes. Despite this they are also partially haunted by her dark spirit, each a part of her no less than her arms or legs. You can take the armor off Gangraena but you cannot take Gangraena off the armor, at least, not without deep arcane know-how.
Gangraena is left-handed.
Gangraena
Name
Gangraena
Race
Undead Proto-Human
Gender
Female
Age
Unknown, even to her.
Appearance
Standing at around one hundred and eighty four centimeters and weighing ninety kilograms (two hundred and four kilograms while armored) this terrifying undead warrior commands an imposing presence on the battlefield. While fighting foes might give wonder as to how this threat manages to even move under the layers upon layers of armor that's been bolted onto the suit over time, let alone so deftly, but even the wildest speculations fail to capture just what exactly lurks in the dark recesses of this metal behemoth.
For a corpse that has been lost in the great oceans for eras upon eras she looks relatively okay, albeit still wholly unearthly as something returned from a watery grave might. Her flesh remains largely unscoured by the tides and while patches here and there have been nicked and pierced the only major sign of deterioration is the hollow sockets that remain where once eyes rested. Any who stare into them would find only not even the back of her skull to gaze upon, just an infinite abyss with the only feature standing out from it being a distant yellow light, one for each socket, like a gleaming star far up into the ever vast night sky.
Apart from that eyes her skin is blue from asphyxiation and her hair remains a disheveled kelp green color, a characteristic of her ancient and long forgotten heritage. Her droning voice seems to echo from her, originating from her chest but also not. Her build is broad, lean but muscular as she was a warrior once in life, just as she continues to be in death. She is rarely seen outside her armor, though for the time being her recent defeat and subjugation at the hands of the warden have left her equipment in their mercy.
Personality
Terrifying, brutal, relentless. These are words all who've fought her would use to describe her save her last foe.
Actually talking to her however and you'd realize that this large imposing zombie is actually quite pleasantly chipper, albeit slow of speech and a fair bit confused to the world as a whole. Though she has no need to eat nor drink nor even sleep she enjoys the simple things in life. A glorious sunrise, a calm meadow, the smattering of light through a tree's canopy or even a merry tune, Gangraena doesn't need much and is rather happy with what she gets. She is no stranger to violence and speaks it's language well but she rarely means ill of it. It's simply something that she does, both a mere fact of life and the mercenary business where she plies her trade readily and without much question.
Having spent as much time lost in the deepest recesses of the ocean floor for as long as she has she's developed a great amount of patience, years passing not unlike the days themselves. She's not one for long grudges nor great bouts of anger. She is also not overly critical of others for their vices, beliefs or characteristics. The whole world is strange to her but she welcomes it's many wonders as well as any break from monotony or solitude.
One oddity about her is that she herself isn't terribly clear on who she is herself. She has memories of her past but so much time has past their details have grown fuzzy, inaccurate even. As for what she even is she hasn't much the faintest clue either.
Background
Gangraena was born long ago, in a civilization that predates many kingdoms of man. In an era of things lost to the ages, where humanity flourished before a great fall cast it all under the rug of history, a time once mere myth now simply forgotten, there was a family of great warriors who fought on behalf of the glory of their gods. This family bore three brothers and six daughters, one of which was named Gangraena. She was the strongest of them all, able to move most naturally in heavier armor. Her wits however were perhaps as sharp as her mace. She never had an affinity for matters of great complexity, always a creature of simplicity. Despite her shortcomings she was still deemed fit to fight the unnatural in the names of their gods.
Of course, she would never see her first crusade as the waves claimed her before any blade, tooth or claw could. When a terrible storm struck her sea vessel the chains around an anchor bound her leg and drug her overboard once it's restraints had snapped. Like a metal pebble in a great big pond she sank in her heavy plated suit of armor, now a watery coffin as she swiftly drowned. This was the end of Gangraena.
_
When her body reached the ocean floor however something else happened upon her corpse, one of a few that were brought down there and not by chance. These drowned were selected and drawn to an ancient altar lost to the tides from times ancient even back in these times lost to time. Upon this altar an ancient being that remained trapped below the great waters sewed into these vessels dark spirits which animated them. These dark spirits would take these new shells of theirs and return to the surface and sew the ancient being's influence about the world once more, corrupting and weakening it until the time was right for it to escape it's oceanic prison and consume the world just as it tried to do once before.
The dark spirits kept the memories of the drowned as a guide to help them navigate the surface. Many of them ventured forth, each one meeting any number of different fates, none truly successful. Gangraena's host however did not find it's way back to the surface. Due to being bound to both her body, her armor and her anchor as it could not discern them apart from one another the dark spirit could not simply float up from the depths like the others. This dark spirit was forced to wander, anchored to the ocean floor as it trudged through valleys deeper than any known to the surface world, over mountains taller than any that could be found above. Due to inheriting the drowned's poor sense of direction it remained lost for countless centuries, walking to and fro across the vast ocean landscape, often times finding itself going in circles.
This continued for so long that the spirit's own mind started to warp. Delirious from the ceaseless tedium of wandering without ever finding land this dark spirit started finding itself mixing it's own memories up with that of the host it had taken. What once was a map slowly grew to become it's identity as it eventually lost sight of it's very purpose. It no longer remembered the very purpose it was given to this host for, nor of the being that put it inside this shell in the first place. All that it knew for real mingled with the life that Gangraena had known until a muddy sheet of indistinct memories both native and inherited blurred into one single past. All that it cared for now was to find the surface. It couldn't remember why it wanted to but it seemed like the right thing to do.
_
Eventually the dark spirit who believed itself to be the very shell it inhabited found it's way to dry land. What she found delighted her as she wandered the beaches until shortly happening upon a humble fishing village. The villagers were frightened but reluctant to flee and abandon all their belongings. Instead they complied to her wishes and relieved to find that she was relatively peaceful, speaking in an unknown language with an eerie voice but not aggressive. It was here that she started learning the land's language, listening to the village people speak and figuring out their words while she helped chop and carry firewood for them during her stay.
Eventually a mercenary company by the name of The Grey Auxilliary docked at their little village for supplies and happened upon Gangraena. Now able to carry a rudimentary conversation she spoke with the captain of these mercenaries, impressing them with her unnatural might. Seeing if this strange being was amicable they offered her employment and she accepted. To them this might of been the breakthrough they needed to help stand out from other upcoming mercenary companies and earn themselves a reputation. To her this was just another chance to see and experience new things while also getting the chance to fight which was fun too.
A decade of fighting later and this company had slowly but surely dwindled until only their captain and Gangranea remained. Their times together were glorious and many a battle was won but unlike Gangraena the men and women of this company were mortal. Be it death in combat, injury or longing to start a family the various members of their crew each fell way whilst Gangraena remained, an unchanging feature which had cemented herself in this company's renown. Their leader, old man Grey Hound was growing too old and injured to fight himself too. Seeing as Gangraena had kept with them through the greatest times of their career he passed leadership of the company onto her before he retired from the life of a mercenary to enjoy his hard earned cash.
Gangraena was now the only remaining member of The Grey Auxiliary. She never made an effort to recruit more members, largely as the very thought never entered her head. Instead she simply kept taking jobs and killing on behalf of those who'd give her money, stripping away armor from those she slays and crudely bolting them onto her platemail which is how she eventually became a metal behemoth of some fame amongst warriors around. It seemed she wasn't weakening either, her strength no longer comparable to mortal men and women of mundane make.
However with fame comes attention and her exploits eventually drew the ire of the king himself. Whatever his reasons he set up a trap, a false job which she took. Upon arrival she was swarmed with men. Their weapons could not best her great armor and their own protections offered no safety from the great anchor she swung with the same grace and precision one would swing a sword. Of course there was something present that she had not encountered yet: Magic. Divine casters beseeched their god and smote her with their holy magic. Not able to guard against it she eventually collapsed, men rushing her prone form and lashing her down with ropes and chains. While she had not perished again from their divine assault as she had grown quite powerful, enough even to withstand more than most undead could ever hope to, she was not able to continue the fight in her state. Fighting more would of simply resulted in her dying again and that didn't sound fun.
Thus, she resides now in the oubliette of great threats simply known as The Maw. Amongst the most dangerous foes the king's laid claim to for purposes known only to himself and select others she finally fits in, though there's still not a lot of things truly like her.
At least, none where anyone can find them.
Talents
Starting with her skills she is a trained warrior, educated from youth in warfare and battle. Having spent a decade putting that knowledge to use has helped in giving her the practical experience she needed to become an experienced warrior, honing her skills against many a foe. Her other skills and knowledges largely compliment her trade, having a basic knowledge of metal and leather working so that she may upkeep her weapon and armor.
As for her abilities her most noticeable features are that of undeath. Being undead she has no need for food, water or even sleep. She can see in the dark no less than she can in the day and she is not beholden to fatigue. Without pain she cannot feel discomfort from heat or cold, only suffering degradation to her material form from extremes of either temperature. All that can stand to put an end to her once and for all would be destruction of her material form or magic of sufficient potency, her organs only remaining because nothing has given them cause to leave her body.
Her true power however comes from the more sinister function of her dark spirit: The ability to devour the souls of those slain by her. The spirit passively consumes the souls of her victims, unaware that it's even doing so. With each soul devoured Gangraena slowly gains in might, little by little. This is what has given Gangraena the strength of ten grown men and also part of how Gangraena wears her armor and wields her anchor so easily. The dark spirit partially haunts the armor and anchor so it lets Gangraena move them around almost like they were her own limbs. In time as the spirit gains strength she may be able to eventually even move her armor and weapon on their own with her very mind, albeit slowly to start. What else might rise from her spiritual growth remains unknown to many, herself included.
Aside from all that Gangraena also possesses an immunity to the damaging influences of the ocean due to an old pact between it and the entity her dark spirit was manifested from. She will suffer neither deterioration from the salty waters nor be crushed by the weight of the depths and many of the predators which lurk deep in the dark waters below will simply ignore Gangraena unless she threatens their safety.
Flaws
As an undead creature her greatest flaw is that she does not heal naturally. Any harm dealt unto her physical vessel must be repaired manually using parts from another body to fill in for what is missing. These parts may inherit her will but will not carry her strength until they've remained with her for some time, the longer the better. Much the same applies to her armor and weapon, both needing upkeep when damaged as they are a part of her. Being separated from her armor reduced her overall might by a third and once again should she be separated from her anchor, reducing her down to a single third of her original might.
Being an undead creature magic that affects the undead will affect her similarly, weakened by her overall might but all the same a hurdle unique to undead like her. As for her darkvision while she is able to see in the dark no less than she can in the day she cannot see colors, her entire worldview stuck perpetually in monochrome. There are also certain limitations imposed by her armor's design such as a limited field of view and range of motion allowed for her arms. Practice has allowed her to better work around these but only to an extent.
As a person her biggest weakness is that she is a simple creature at heart. She doesn't plan far or deep, has no talent for complex ideas and can become easily confused in this world now well removed from the one she faintly remembers. If someone needs a person with quick wits and an even quicker tongue to solve a predicament then she'd be the last candidate to ask.
Worst of all is that she came with obligations. She may have forgotten them but something out there still remembers and is still waiting... Watching.
Equipment
The only equipment kept by Gangraena are those she perished with: Her plated armor and her anchor. Both are crafted initially with fine steel, iron and other such terrestrial metals being slapped on to patch them until both armor and weapon now resemble a patchwork of different fixes. Despite this they are also partially haunted by her dark spirit, each a part of her no less than her arms or legs. You can take the armor off Gangraena but you cannot take Gangraena off the armor, at least, not without deep arcane know-how.
Miscellaneous
Gangraena is left-handed.
