Scrawl Banditta
Lady Arya
Guardian Angel Haruki
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Nationality: Suldan
Appearance:
Siegfried stands at 5'6", he has Hazel Eyes that "Can almost rip your soul from your chest", or so he has been told, with short dirty blond hair. Under his mask he hides his Slave Brand knowing most new recruits from the Suldan would look down on him as a Slave.
Bio: Born a slave in the city of Danenfoth Siegfried never was destined for an easy life. From the time he could barely walk he was forced into hard labor but is was his bad attitude and "That look" which lead Siegfried into a different form of Slavery. At the Age of six he was sold to "The Pit" an arena where slaves would fight for the amusement of the people. From the age of six he began his fight for survival. There was no formal training in the pit all you could do was take in anything and everything the older slaves were willing to pass down and from there build up your own fighting skill and power. All that was left was for you to survive.
Luckily the people of the empire aren't (entirely) Savages and Siegfried didn't have to step foot into the Arena until he was 16. And due to his strong will to live and the fact he had been in The Pit quite a bit longer than most of the slaves his age group he soon shot up the ranks to be one of the top spots in his generation. But that spot, although it did lead to some luxuries was more a curse than a blessing, as Siegfried's fame grew so did his adversaries. The young boy had more Challengers than he could count rarely getting more than a few days to rest before being thrown into the fray of battle again. This Cycle continued until Siegfried was 23 and the day he meet his Reaper.
That day turned out to be one of the most challenging days of Siegfried's life. A free for all brawl of a tournament all for the reaper's enjoyment. Not only did Siegfried have to fight against his normal rivals, but all comers young and old from any division of The Pit. And after five grueling fights, one mock mission in which Siegfried and a team of his choosing fought to the death with live Orcs captured just for this event, and an unmissable final round, only one foe stood in his way .... The Reaper itself.
In all aspects Siegfried should have died in that final fight, but somehow he pulled through actually slicing the Reaper's mask in two before it could finish him off. With that move the Reaper saw the final thing it needed to see and accepted Siegfried into the Black Order. In the 13 years since then Siegfried has made the Order his home, and although he has never made any move to put himself into a leadership position he has made his name well known throughout the Order.
Fighting Style:
Survival - Siegfried's entire fighting style is designed to survive. Without any real or proper training his moves are almost feral and unpredictable, but yet sometimes flashy from his old need to please the crowd. Due to his time in the Pit Siegfried is proficient with most weapon types, but he prefers a sword to most other weapons.
Equipment:
-A Pair of Twin Curved Swords
-An Oak Recurve Bow
-A Set of Throwing Knives x 10 total
-a Hunting Knife
-Modified suit of Order scout Armor
-Survival Rations for a week
Skills/Abilities:
"That Look" - Siegfried's glare seems to pierce your soul making it very hard to lie to his face
Survivor - A Gladiator at heart Siegfried is a hard man to kill he comes with many scars and the lessons that come from it.
Storyteller - Although he seldom reveals his slave upbringing Siegfried is well known to tell the tales of the arena to boost the Moral of his comrades when needed.
Other Information:
Gender: Male
Age: 38
Nationality: Silver fang but raised in Talos
Appearance: Jack is a lean build and stands at 6'2. He has messy shoulder length black hair and his eyes are certainly a match in color. He also spots a small and black goatee. His body is covered in scars as well as half being burn marks from his encounter with Spit Fire. He never really removes his armor infront of other though so no one actually knows about the horrific burn scares that cover his body.
Bio: Jack was born in Talos of Silver Fang descent. Being a Silver Fang in Talos was rather strange. While always being taught about honor and chivalry, he seemed to always grasp the concept of strength much easier. His family raised him to be a fighter but even then he was different. He was not as broad as his brother and lacked the physicality to represent his people. His family was more focused on his fighting than his education. He was always seen as the outcast of his family and it got to him quite a bit. While he was 'destined' to serve in the military might of Talos, he had other plans. At the age of sixteen, Jack abandoned his family. He stated he didn't want anything to do with them and that abandoning his attachments would give him the strength he lacked.
Leaving the kingdom with nothing more than his sword and a set of worn out armor, Jack found himself under the employment of a mercenary group. His determination to prove himself and his prowess as a warrior stood out among the group as he served them for five long years. While under the mercenary group, Jack had received a rather horrible reputation. Jack would not care to clean his armor from the blood of his foes and actually showed a tormented delight in wearing it. The blood eventually dried and stained his armor to a black color thus earning him the nick name 'The Black Knight'. It was during during the time of this reputation that his group was hired by Clan Blackiron to help them ward off bandits as their metal working was quite valuable. The clan would come to see Jacks brutal and savage nature during the defense of the clan. It was five years after that he would finally become a lone wolf. The bandit leader, a man as 'Spit fire' for his mastery of fire magic decided he had enough of the mercenaries and confronted them himself. Jack and his group didn't last long in the fight and they were scorched alive. Jack however, survived the inferno. He was brought back to the clan as they treated his wounds. It was then decided that he would be truly rewarded for his servitude. The clan had decided to forge him a suit of black iron and swords that were as twisted as his persona on the field. This suit allowed him to go toe to toe with Spit fire and allow him to claim his vengeance. The blood of the bandits stained to his new suit when he returned truly earned him the name 'The Black Knight'. He was soon released from his contract with the clan and he once again found himself roaming alone. It was his servitude under the clan however that allowed the Reapers to find him. One night, a Reaper had come to him while he wandered a lone road. The Reaper halted him in his tracks and asked him if he was truly 'The Black Knight'. His response however was not to be taken easily and test had to be performed. The Reaper had decided to test his skill in combat. The fight yielded quite shocking results to the Reaper. Watching Jack was almost mesmerizing as he fluidity in combat almost made him look like he was dancing during his fight. After he had defeated him in combat, he invited him to join the Order.
Jacks Arrival however was not one to be welcomed. Most had heard the rumors about him during his employment under the Blackiron clan and believed him to be a deranged psycho path. Jack did not seek to please his peers, only to satisfy his leaders with his accomplishments. His skill and reputation among the Order did not take long to be noticed. Many stated the he truly was deserving of the title 'The Black Knight'. Whether this was a compliment or not did not matter to Jack. Jack served the Order for twelve long years and served to complete very specific tasks. One of which was to hunt down and kill rogue Reapers as the secrets they held were not to be let onto other hands. Jack never did form attachments in the Order and his reputation was one to be feared making him very ideal for the task. He now has recently been called back from his mission since receiving word that Fort Gansforth has fallen into enemy hands.
Fighting Style: Jack fights in a very strange manner. His style involves constant fluidity in combat and using the momentum to create powerful swings which actually work well with his fluidity if he were to miss an attack. He is shown to have a very brutal nature however and has never been seen showing mercy to any who stand against his orders. Women, young, elderly, or even crippled are not immune to his savage nature.
Equipment: Jack carries his infamous black iron set as well as two sets of twin black iron straight sword and one black iron one handed style great sword. He has never been seen using the great sword any many are relieved of it. One set of swords are strapped among his waisst while the other set form an x on his back. The great sword is sheathed between them cutting through the center of the x. Other than that, he carries what the mission and Order provide. For example: rations.
Skills/Abilities: Just a really skilled fighter. Never learned magic or even first aid.
Other Information:
His black iron equipment was given a special property. It takes the iron in blood to repair itself. A worthy function for a man such as Jack.
Some rumors say that while his wasn't blessed by a God, he was certainly marked by a beast.
才谷 梅太郎 - 女武芸者
Saidani Umetarō - Onna Bugeisha
Saidani Umetarō - Onna Bugeisha
Gender: Female
Age: 33
Nationality: Illuim
Appearance: Saidani is of average build, standing at 5'5". On her back is a large tattoo of a dragon, whose details make the piece even more eyecatching when it is not under her armor. Her dark brown hair is usually held in a messy bun, contrasting against the color of her skin that is usually painted a pale color.
Bio:
Like her siblings, Saidani was born into a family of warriors who were comprised of Samurai and Onna-Bugeisha. Known for their valor, swordsmanship, archery, and beauty. Raised as a warrior, Saidani was taught the way of Bushido; watching as they (her family) performed their honorable acts. They fought alongside generals, military men, fellow samurai who valued the Umetaro family's bravery and selflessness. Unlike her brothers and sisters, however, Saidani was granted with the very gift that had been granted to her grandmother - Ayane Masako: able to handle even the most wild of horses, battling the most perilous of descents before her, unscathed. She trained under the wing of the most fierce and honorable warriors known in her region, her father Ryo Umetaro and her neighbor Otome Iwasaki.
The Umetaro live under the Illuis, remaining on their coastal cliffs, training to become better warriors than they already are. They've assisted with strategies, the training of others, and most importantly, the many battles that have come to face them.
During her training, Saidani was placed with many obstacles and endless days of work. She was thrown about, pushed into circumstances that seemed nearly impossible to overcome. Saidani's swordsmanship was greatly improved, as was her archery, becoming one of the most sought after Umetaro members, possibly even one of the strongest. This lead to many suitors that came her way, from ones who attempted to guarantee her life-long happiness to those who even battled her in order to win her heart. Of course, Saidani did not take well to these people. Rejection after rejection, fight after fight, Saidani remained lone despite the many men who have approached her. Eventually, when Saidani hit the age of 25 years old, her family arranged for her to marry Kido Tokugawa, a samurai who had continuously impressed the family over the many years.
In battle, Saidani and Kido fought alongside each other, creating an unbreakable bond that would confirm that the pair was meant to be in the eyes of the Umetaro and Tokugawa. She was his first captain, equipped with the armor and weaponry that had been made specifically for her: a katana with her nickname "Bushikatagi" (meaning Samurai Spirit), the mighty bow and arrow crafted by the Blackiron. Together, the Umetaro and Tokugawa conquered the many invaders that attempted to set foot in their 'territory,' and though they lost people, they did not stop their fight.
Over time, as they traveled the roads, Saidani and Kido fell in love; praising each other's skills. However, that love fell short. In a fight between them and a group of rebels, Saidani had lost her precious Kido whose own sword was stabbed through his head. Remarkably, Kido was able to say goodbye to Saidani before he fell limp in her arms. He had died only two weeks after their wedding. Saidani underwent a huge emotional tribulation, questioning her ways and questioning the cruelty of the fate that had been granted upon her. For days, weeks, months, Saidani refused to fight. Mourning after the husband she had lost, never leaving the premise of her home. Her depression had taken over her, making her enraged at the fact that she could no longer feel anything. Her family attempted to assist her in her time of need, trying to ease her ever growing pain. Eventually, Saidani got back on her feet. Realizing that Kido would not have wanted the pain to overcome her life.
She trained harder, with out rest, fighting those who dare to cross her path. At some point, Saidani had found herself face to face with a reaper. The woman accepted its challenge, fighting the way she was taught, though it did not seem at all honorable to her. After fighting for what seemed like a whole day, Saidani had finally defeated the "warrior" before her. The mask was on the ground, their palms holding them as they drew gasps of air. "Bushikatagi," the reaper spoke, impressed with her persistence, "you've proven yourself."
After her encounter, Saidani had joined the Order. Now taking a liking within their "community" after seven years of inhabitance. Around them, she is known for being unknown, distant from others no matter how much they try to understand and speak to her.
Fighting Style:
Kenjutsu, kendo - she knows her way around a sword, focusing on the technique and power that she holds behind it.
Kyudo - noted for her skill in archery. Though she is more trained in Kenjutsu, Saidani also enjoys using ranged weaponry.
Equipment:
Bushikatagi katana.
Yumi Long Bow. x 15 arrows
Tantō (short blade)
Araliae Cordatae Radix (Spikenard Root for medicinal purposes.)
Crafted Samurai Armor
Skills:
Shingi To Giri - unwavering loyalty. Don't know if that would be called a skill, but to her, loyalty is something special.
Swordsmanship, archery, HORSES.
Other:
Saidani believes that Kido fights by her side in spirit.
She can be an asshole; pretty sarcastic, no filter.
Name:
Denzel Harrowing
Gender:
Male
Age:
21
Nationality:
Talos
Appearance:
Standing at a height of 6 feet, Denzel as shown is to be of an average build, not muscular at all, and fairly flimsy, not having spent much time building up strength, and more on his books. He possesses a little scaring along his body from old wounds. Possesses a magic birthmark on the palm of his left hand.
Bio:
Denzel came from a hermits village, away from the eyes of the world within the depths of Talos' forests, away from a majorty of civilization. Those in the village all were capable of learning light magic, and studied it to protect the world if they desired it so by heading out of their village. They spent their days learning their holy craft for the day that Armageddon would come, in the hopes their healing prowess would be able to save those caught in the worlds supposed final hours, so as they could help the world fight back and save it. For generations they trained healers, and when they came to their adult years, they would be given a choice to go out and help heal the world, or stay to train the next generation, Denzel desired to stay.
Of course, the world is filled with malevolent beings and beasts, which sought to destroy them. Beasts, leading their servants effortlessly destroyed the village, and consumed its people, children, woman and man alike. Denzel lost his village entirely, and without any choice, was forced to flea into an unfamilair world at the age of fifteen, while being hunted by the beasts that hunted him down.
Denzel eventually made it to the Capital city of Talos, Harazan, and sought shelter among the homeless denizens of the city. That's when the people first witnessed his gift for healing, when he took the dying child of a baby suffering from sickness into his hands, and healed the child to full health. He had expected they would be thankful, and they were, a little too much, hailed as a savior, Denzel was quite literally backed into a corner, people grovelling before his feet, desperate to be healed of their afflictions. What could Denzel do? He could not refuse, even though his heart was torn to shreds from losing his loved ones, he put selfishness being him and lived with his new family, healing everyone who desired it for not even a coin or a piece of bread, he did it out of his own good nature. When words of a selfless healing head through the city streets, it was only natural that his abilities would be sought by the order.
When they arrived to great him, it having been a year since he had been the cities selfless healer, he was thin, frail but happy, weak, Denzel cured as many as he could everyday, suffering severe scaring to his body, and eventually collapsing into unconsciousness, only to reawaken and heal once more, his own concern was not important to him, the people were, and they needed him. The order sought to recruit him, though at first he refused, insisting that the people needed him here, but the order would eventually persuade him otherwise, upon mentioning of his destroyed village, and that they eliminate beasts such as those. And that if he wanted to help the world at large, he would join the order, to help the many men and women under their banner to keep in the fight. They also made mention of his frail state, insisting that they would take care and help him recover. Denzel wasn't in any state to disagree, and collapsed meekly into one of their arms, carried off, Denzel was successfully recruited.
For the past five years, Denzel has recovered a lot of his strength since back then, and has been a crucial member of the order. Using his powers to heal those injured by the beasts, Denzel has came up to the front lines time and time again to keep his allies alive and in the fight. He eventually got use to the bloodshed around him, though still resented it, he kept a cheer demeanor for others around him, and wakes up yet again to pledge his magic to the needs of others.
Fighting Style:
"Fighting style? I think you might have the wrong idea... i'm not so much of a fighter... Never swung a sword in my life... To be honest, the thought frightens me..."
Denzel isn't talented in fighting, only able to use magic, and is actually afraid to physically hit other creatures, though will defend himself as best as he can if given no other choice. He has no skill in fighting and will swing or flail his staff to smack away any dangers if they try to attack him... not very effective!
Equipment:
Oil Lantern w/Staff: A staff he's kept for most of his life, to help him walk over long tiring distances, a tool used to support his weight. Aside from this, the staff is fitted with an oil lantern, which can be used to light the way in the dark and reveal the land before him when his eyes could not, more reliable than he ever thought it would be when venturing off alone.
Backpack:
A simple heavy backpack filled with a plethora of supplies. Flint and tinder, food supplies, waterskins, a journal, some ink, a rope and hook for climbing, among other things such as herbs and plants for cooking, so much that it's surprising that the backpack isn't bursting at the seams!
Skills/Abilities:
LEVEL 4 - MAGI: Light Magic
Being a Magi in light magic, Denzel has the ability to manipulate holy energies and bright light to help heal and protect his companions.
Lay Hands: Denzel's ability to slowly but surely help heal a mans wounds and remove their ailments, he is able to heal the sick, cure bloody infections and help bring a soldier to full strength if even the time, though this drains his energy quite a bit if done for long periods of time. His power to heal can also help remove poisons.
Light Barrier: Concentrating his energy, Denzel can surround his allies in a barrier which helps to protect his allies, protecting them from blows and giving them a chance to recuperate. The barrier won't last forever and can eventually be broken, and so cannot be taken advantage of.
Signal the way: Casting a small orb outward, this light can help guide the way with an aura of light with illumination. The ball can grow in size depending on how much energy Denzel exerts or can be multiplied into various small orbs to cover a wider radius, or be used as a distraction to lure an enemy away.
Holy aura: Using his light magic, Denzel can unleash a holy aura around himself and his allies, damaging monsters and those of ill intent around them while healing and recuperating ally stamina in the process, while slower than his Lay Hands, it can affect his allies in a wide area, for a regenerative effect.
((And other ideas I could do? Give me some ideas XD ))
Gentle charisma:
Denzel's gentle personality can be described as therapeutic, allowing him to calm down angry or rowdy individuals and see to it that conversations end on a peaceful calming note. He knows how to deal with angry folk, and how to deviate their anger away, while also having a talent for bringing people together when needed.
Cooking:
While Denzel isn't much of a fighter, he knows how to cook a mean meal! If given the right ingredients, the boy is quite capable of feeding his companions with a warm meal in their stomachs, which would help to boost moral and the strength of his companions. His ability to use healing magics isn't too bad either when using them on the food he makes! Allowing his food to possess a healing property to regenerate wounds faster!
Other Information:
Character theme: youtube.com/watch?v=bQ28c3x6_kU
Name: Laine Eldor
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Nationality: Talos
Appearance:
Laine Eldor stands at 6’1 and weighs in at around 85 kilos. Overall Laine is rather average looking with his white hair being the exception. When going into battle he wears his custom made knight’s armor which is lighter than most plate armor making him much quicker on the battle field.
Bio:
Laine Eldor was born in a small village to a caring mother and father. Growing up Laine was for the most part a loner having only one for most of his teenage life, his neighbor of Silverfang descent Rochilda Imanie. Rochida was the exact opposite of Laine. Whilst he was more of softer person, Rochilda was tough and was not afraid to let others know it. Whilst Laine was more of a thinker, Rochilda let her fists think for her resulting in usually very bad situations. However their differences seemed to make them gravitate towards each other even more. They did almost everything together rarely being seen apart other than when they were sleeping.
Once Laine was fourteen his father sat him down and explained to him the legacy of the Eldors, and how when he passed Laine would have to continue on the business in the village out of duty more than anything else. While Laine was interested in his father’s trade he could suppress the feeling of sadness, longing to forge his own path rather than follow in one already predestined for him. But fearing that he would hurt his father, Laine begrudgingly promised his father that he would continue on the Eldor legacy and work his father’s workshop.
As the years went on Laine worked himself to sleep tirelessly learning how to produce better armor and weapons and for the most part, it was paying off as some people started taking notice. Soon however his life would change drastically. Around the time that Laine’s skills were being noticed, Rochilda pitched the idea that herself and Laine should join a mercenary group that was recruiting in the town north of their village. After much deliberation and a massive amount of convincing, Laine accepted the idea and was travelling by morning the only thing he left behind was a note to his parents. Laine was seventeen when he left his old life behind…
And so began his new life as a mercenary. Laine had little to no experience in combat, apart from the basics so most of his time was spent training with Rochilda. For the first six months of their new lives, Rochilda and Laine saw no combat. However this changed when his group was tasked with taking over a Bandit Kings Stronghold by a Lord. Believing the Bandit King to be weaker than most, the mercenaries accepted the task.
But the mercenaries were wrong.
The bandit king and all of his followers were deserters of the Talos army. The mercenaries on the other hand were comprised mostly of novices who barely knew which end of the blade was the one used for killing. The bandits all but massacred the mercenaries, with those that survived fleeing or being captured, Unfortunately
Laine was severely injured and captured, with Rochilda perishing in the fighting. Laine awoke underground in a dark damp cell with a man he would soon call his mentor, Rotsam Laurelis. Rotsam was an older gentleman however had the look of someone who could kill you in two seconds. As Laine settled down in what appeared to be his new home, he found out that Rotsam actually was a former member of the bandits, who was caught trying to desert.
After almost two days of living in the cell, sounds of battles and the screams of death could be heard as a combination of the Lord’s men and a group of hardened veteran mercenaries stormed the stronghold and captured it. Being freed from his captivity, Laine felt lost. Feeling as though his parents would never accept him back, Laine contemplated what to do next, that was until Rotsam, feeling pity for the young lad, gave Laine a choice between allowing him to be his mentor, or wandering aimlessly until someone killed him. Without a second thought Laine picked the former option.
For the next nine years Laine was pushed to his limits, being forced to enter the fighting pits to earn money for him and his mentor, aswell as training with said mentor. On top of it all Laine forced himself to continue being a blacksmith, working for any forge that would take him. Finally after nine long, hard and painful years, Rotsam had decided that he had thought Laine all he could and so parted ways with the boy and set a course for Illuim. Laine found himself yet again lost not sure of what to do or where to go. So for six months he traveled the roads of Alestoth, trying to find purpose and meaning in his life.
However, no matter where he went, trouble always seemed to follow. This was especially the case when one night at a tavern Laine had gotten into a fight with four men after they had harassed a barmaid. The fight lasted less than minute before all the men lay unconscious.
After the fiasco, Laine took his leave and started to make his way out of the town he was in. As he made his way out of the city and continued his travels he was stopped by a hooded figure. Without almost any warning the figure attacked him. And thus began the longest two minutes of Laine's life. To this day, he will admit to everyone that had the reaper that recruited him been trying to kill him, he would have perished that night.
Fortunately for Laine, that was not the case as the figure suddenly stopped attacking him and revealed that he was a reaper and that he watched the fight Laine was apart of earlier and was curious as to how skilled he was. After a brief exchange of words, the reaper offered Laine a chance to join The Black Order. And of course Laine accepted...
And that is where Laine has been for the past two years, providing his services wherever it may be needed. Where his adventure will lead him next, only time will tell…
Fighting Style:
Laines fighting style focuses mainly on the use of dodges, parries and counters to exhaust his opponents and force them to make a mistake, one that he can capitalize on. Laine is fast and will almost always manage to dodge or parry an attack although. Laine truly shines when it comes to endurance being able to last longer in a fight than most men. Laine’s number one priority when fighting is to prolong the bout until he sees an opening letting his opponent waste his stamina trying to hit him before coming in for a quick takedown. However if a fight carries on for too long, Laine has been known to unleash a flurry of attacks upon his opponent in an attempt to force his opponent to make a mistake although this is a tactic he rarely uses as he becomes easily tired after doing so.
Equipment:
Sword:
A Bastard sword made in memory of his best friend.
Armor:
Normal plate armor. Seemingly unremarkable except for the fact that its lighter than most armors.
Skills/Abilities:
Pretty bloody good smith
Also pretty good swordsman
Other Information: N/A
Name: Marlis Jaegar
Gender: Female
Age: 41
Nationality: Alvina
Appearance: When standing up straight she peaks at a height of 5'11". She has short, sable, matted hair that rests just above her shoulders. Her eyes a deep grey, and just below them lies a hooked nose and cracked, scarred lips. Marlis also has a deep cut under her left eye going down her cheek, a result from one of her many fatal altercations during her travels.
Bio: Born to a simple farming family, Marlis was always the runt of the litter. Constantly teased and abused by her siblings, and occasionally by even her parents, she always pushed herself to do better than the rest. Some may have thought her behavior as competitive and idiotic, but damn did she just want to succeed at something nobody else could. She wanted to prove to her family, maybe even herself, that she wasn't just small, fragile, and useless.
While living in the middle of nowhere had it's disadvantages, it certainly had its perks. There was no one there to take all the game besides their large family, however, the forest that surrounded them had always scared them all into just growing simple foods and placing easy-to-reach traps. No one had ever gone deep inside the woods, and they didn't plan on going in anytime soon. But as every day passed, the winds got colder and the ground was beginning to set. Soon the family would have no soil to plant on, and the game caught from the traps would not be able to sustain them for long.
With this, the family ate less just to ration their foods long enough. The older familial members were beginning to die off, and they could do nothing. One night, with her father's untouched hunting bow and a bag, Marlis slipped away from her home and ventured deep into the woodlands, preying on food for her family. Luckily for her, she managed to catch a multitudinous of small, wild animals to bring home. It was enough to last until spring came along again.
Her bag fastened to her body and her bow strung on her shoulder, she walked home, shivering and carefully navigating the dark woods. At one point she had stopped walking, something had clasped onto her ankle, the bone snapping and forcing her to fall to the ground in pain. Marlis was afraid to call for help, aware that something (or someone) other than her family would come to her instead. She struggled to stay awake, but it was nearing dawn, and she knew someone would come by soon to check on the traps, so she waited just a little longer.
Eventually her older brother came, a look of relief washed over her face as she held up the small bag. He only looked down at her, his gaze was unnerving, and only then did she realize his ill intentions. He grabbed her bag and the bow, dragging her body and the trap farther into the forest, so that no one would be able to find her. He knew she wouldn't dare to scream, he knew she was afraid of what else was in the lands. And so he left her, going back home to claim her prize as his, explaining how Marlis had run away and died.
The long silence and sight of blood travelling from her ankle to the dirt filled her with ire, her breathing ragged, her mind running miles an hour. Eventually pulling herself free from the trap, she limps back to the cabin. It was nightfall by the time she arrived, and she knew that they would all be sleeping. Finding a hatchet they used to cut wood with, she snuck inside and creeped to her brother's room, holding the weapon above her head. Then, she swung down. Her blood went cold, but she knew she was far too gone to stop now. And so she went into every other room, and did the same. She was only 15.
At first Marlis was shocked, she refused to leave the cabin. She spent her time trying to pamper the corpses any way she could. Dressing them up in whatever rags they had left, forcing food down their throats, etc.. Eventually the shock turned into anger: she didn't owe anyone anything, she did what she had to do. Marlis certainly wasn't going to take anymore of their abuse and teasing, and for once in several days, she felt grateful for what she did. The feeling didn't last long, as a group of young men and woman had stumbled upon the cottage in search of treasures.
The only thing the treasure hunters found were rotting corpses. The four of them split up around the area, digging up and searching whatever they could. Frightened, Marlis hid in one of the rooms, hatchet in hand. One of the hunters had stumbled into the room, tearing up the place in frustration. Once again, anger replaced her fear, and she slipped out of her hiding spot, killing the intruder. She looted his body, grabbing the crossbow out of their hands. She replaced her axe with it, but she still kept it at her side. Instead of swinging at the 3 other hunters, she shot them in the head from behind. No one had expected it at all.
Leaving what was once home to her, she brought along her newly acquired wealth. Furs, money, arrows, and just anything she got off of the bodies that she could carry herself. Marlis left the forest, but with nowhere to go, she just wandered. She got in all types of trouble, but nothing she couldn't handle. By the time she turned 24, she had hardened even more, and became the woman she is now.
One day, whilst lingering near the forest she once called home, she found a hamlet that was conflicted with hunger. The villagers admitted to Marlis that they would hunt for food themselves, but their main problem was a group of bandits who simply did not let them leave their home. For some reason she could not (and would not) explain, Marlis was reminded of her younger self's afflictions, and lent her aid to the people. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.
She hunted game to the best of her ability, returning to the village with a large bag, enough to sustain the people for a while. At the entrance, she noticed a group of well-armed and armored persons, as if they had been waiting for her arrival. In their charge she saw a young child, no less than 8, who was gasping and sobbing to go home back to their parents. Enraged, Marlis commanded that they let them go. To the coterie of barbarians, an angry woman was not enough to strike fear into their hearts. They laughed and laughed, but one of the men's hearty cackling was replaced by sputtering and quiet groans. As they were cracking up over her appearance, she had taken the opportunity to lodge an arrow into her crossbow, and aimed it a one of their throats. Luckily for the other two their necks were covered, otherwise they would have met the same fate as their companion.
Their offensive actions ceased. They looked down at their dead partner, back to each other, and back at the spot where Marlis was, but lo and behold, she wasn't there. Panicking, the two scrambled to sheath their weapons, which was knocked out of their shaking grips by arrows. One of them was hit in the eye and through their skull, while the other slumped to the ground, hands above their head. They pleaded for her to spare their life, but Marlis only agreed in exchange for information. She wanted to know if there were more of them, and the man replied with a nod of his head and directions to their camp. Taking the hatchet from her side, she knelt down, lifted the steel helmet off of the bandit's head, and swung.
After bringing the child home, the bag of food to the people, and the promise that the bandits would not bother them anymore, she left, en route to put an end to a band of misfits. The travel was short, and those there weren't prepared for a slaughter. From a high tree she managed to take out a number of them, the only one left she assumed was the leader. Before she could aim and fire, she was shot out of her tree and managed to grab onto a branch, which snapped, but successfully kept her from landing on her back. With a nasty scar on her cheek, she approached the camp to face the chief head on. When she met with the leader, she was surprised to see a large woman in a fur coat, smiling at her.
Marlis wasn't so sure about what happened then, because one moment she blacked out in a fit of fury, and a few hours awoke with the woman's dead body in her arms, the fur coat now secured around her own body. Deciding it best to leave, she made her way towards Dragon's Maw, anticipating for some sort of change in her life.
As Marlis neared Alvina's capital, she felt someone had been tailing her from dawn to dusk. If this was someone wanting to rob her blind, she wasn't going to have it. Furious, she turned around and stopped walking, glaring at an armored figure down the road. Instead of conversing, like normal people, she stomped towards them, holding her crossbow close to her chest. It was obvious to the person in front of her that she was not one for words, and they drew their weapons, but quickly introduced themselves before engaging in anything with Marlis just yet. "I'm a Reaper," they said, but she knew next to nothing of the Order. However before continuing her attack any further, Marlis questioned them. At first it was simple questions about the Reapers, the Black Order, and whatnot. Then it took for a turn when she asked, "what makes a good person, a hero? What makes a person a villain?"
She was left unanswered, as the Reaper had had enough and continued their fight. It wasn't long until Marlis had them down, 9 years of surviving by herself, and she wasn't going to let anyone take her meaningless life just yet. Marlis was a little disappointed that her last two questioned were unsolved. She was hoping that, maybe she wasn't a bad person that she made herself out to be.
And so Marlis joined the Order, hoping to make something good out of it. She wasn't going to make herself a villain, she was going to make herself a hero. She made her new home the Order, seemingly at peace and finally able to control her unbridled anger. Up to this point, she has been in the Order for 17 years.
Fighting Style: Marlis is a ranged rogue, specializing in combat from far away while hidden well. She takes to the bushes and trees, but if she's out in the open, Marlis can handle knocking a few skulls in with her fists and/or with the end of the crossbow itself. She has a hatchet, but she prefers not to use it in fights. Only when she's really desperate will she make use of it, which is rare.
Equipment:
-Crossbow
-45 arrows
-Hatchet
Skills/Abilities:
-Stealth: Whether it's because she's perched in a high tree, concealed in bushes, or waiting in a dark alley, Marlis almost always goes unnoticed.
-Intimidation: If a tall, sturdy woman who has lived with anger and death her whole doesn't even scare some of the smallest, milquetoast person, then what will?
Other Information: Despite her tough mien, Marlis is a total sap. She'll never admit it, though.
Name: Nox Faeyette
Gender: Female
Age: 29
Nationality: Talos
Appearance: Nox is the epitome of simplicity. Sporting fair skin and a height of 5'9", a life of solitude within the confines of her master's abode leave her fresh and unblemished. A blue sigil is located on her back, directly over her heart; indicating magical aptitude.
Bio:
Pursuing a higher social status, Faeyette's father immediately sold her to a wealthy female patron in Talos. As she grew, unaware of her lineage, Nox developed the social skills necessary of those living amongst aristocracy. The servant grew a close bond with her superior, committed in servitude any way possible. Late at night, Nox was often found within the study, analyzing powerful grimoires in hopes that one day, she'd be able to defend the woman who gave her an identity.
Even still, the whispers of adventure peaked her curiosity. A world existed that Nox had yet to encounter; the thought fascinated her. One fateful night, her mentor presented a parting gift- a tiara crafted from solid black zirconium. At first, she was reluctant to leave, to the point of denying her wishes, but in the end, they came to the mutual understanding that her place was not with butlers and maids.
Armed with the blessing of her master, the adventurer traversed the various towns of Alestoth, making a living on various search and destroy missions via local pubs. On her own she slew beast after beast; honing her craft and forging a new identity. One occasion lead her travels to the countryside, where she defeated a Griffin terrorizing the village. It was then she drew the interest of the Black Order.
Intent on meeting her master once again, Nox wandered through the misty woodlands in search of a path to the main road where she, hopefully, could find a carriage to hitchhike. Her gentle stride was halted by the subtle crunch of a leaf in the distance. She remained still, taking a breath of the stagnant air, allowing herself to be taken in by the lovely seclusion of nature. Without warning, a dagger hurtles towards the back of her head, glinting in the shade as it sent ripples slicing through the air. "I am a lioness, I will not cringe for them." her soft mumbling vanished with a graceful turn, ice and steel rebounded in a flurry of glistering shards. A shadowy figure twirled intricately through the treetops, yet the maven remained stationary. "A reaper?" she confirmed; the mask was distinctive of that faction. After a simple gesture, the forestry is sent crashing in a dazzling procession of icy spikes encased brambly in roses. The assailant, unbalanced and plummeting to the earth, energetically ricochets off a fallen trunk to gain momentum as he flew in for another attack. Unable to cast another spell within the low time frame, a panicked Nox retreats leftward a single step, sacrificing a hair to the dirk that could have taken her life. Assessing her brazen locks for damage, the battle mage exhales to find the enemy advancing. "saphiro mobius" she whispered. The rogue cast parted the fog in a violent explosion of frozen vines and petals. Seafoam erupted at the forest floor: a byproduct of the spell. Still, lack of proper aim only bought Nox several seconds of breathing room. The combatant, now disarmed, landed a swift blow to the solar plexus. The mage recoiled to the floor soaking her knees in the frothy earth. The silhouette of Nox's limbs imprinted like artwork in the mire as she desperately avoided the reaver's relentless assault. Her patience grew thin. Flailing her left arm, another blast of icy tendrils snares the Reaper's ankles in a frigid grasp. Pillars and spikes of ice arise instantaneously from the sod. She found her opponent trapped within the confines of her bitter clutch. "You are worthy" he says. Perhaps her reunion would have to wait.
As a new recruit of the Order, Nox excels at the many reconnaissance missions she is assigned and is humbled by their acknowledgement of her skills. In the future, she hopes to gain enough recognition to be considered an equal to her superior.
Skills/Abilities:
Water Magic (Lv 3 Sorcerer)
Saphiro Mobius- Aggressively slashes a frothy thicket of icy roses at the opponent. Damage for a moderate amount and cleanses the user of status conditions.
Azure Guise- Consuming a low amount of mana, the user teleports a short distance, leaving a trail of butterflies and frozen petals in his/her wake.
Algor Halcyon- Causes moderate damage to self to do large area of effect damage to all units within its radius, smothering the earth in icy spikes.
Personality Information:
-Prefers aesthetics over efficiency
-Highly opinionated
-Confident
-Often Vain/Naive
-Can be self sacrificial
-Optimistic; yet easily discouraged
Equipment:
Handmaiden's Frock-
A simplistic garb crafted from dyed unicorn leather.
Silver Gauntlets & Boots-
A unique blend of cloth and precious metals to offer mediocre protection, yet still allow for easy mobility.
Black Tiara-
An aesthetic accessory that Nox appreciates for its angular appearance.
Coin purse-
Contains valuable currency for her travels.
Milk of the Poppy-
A vial of strange white liquid that aids in numbing pain.
1. Listen to the GM(s), If you have a complaint tell me. I am not an evil dictator and if I am wrong I will admit it.
2. Romance and Gore allowed, But keep it in good taste and in site rules
3. Now not all characters will play nice with each other I understand that, but keep the disputes in the RP not in OOC
4. Be civilized and polite please
5. All basic RP rules apply to this roleplay: Power playing, Meta gaming, and others are not allowed.
6. The story isn't exactly set, If you have an idea for a hunt feel free to pm me the details and I'll try to work it in.
7. Copy the rules into a Hider in the "other" of your cs so I know you read them.
8. Get into your character's skin become him or her as you are playing have fun and give us insight into their thoughts.
9. Try to keep active, in both the IC and OOC pages please. And even if you don't have anything to say, at least read the OOC
2. Romance and Gore allowed, But keep it in good taste and in site rules
3. Now not all characters will play nice with each other I understand that, but keep the disputes in the RP not in OOC
4. Be civilized and polite please
5. All basic RP rules apply to this roleplay: Power playing, Meta gaming, and others are not allowed.
6. The story isn't exactly set, If you have an idea for a hunt feel free to pm me the details and I'll try to work it in.
7. Copy the rules into a Hider in the "other" of your cs so I know you read them.
8. Get into your character's skin become him or her as you are playing have fun and give us insight into their thoughts.
9. Try to keep active, in both the IC and OOC pages please. And even if you don't have anything to say, at least read the OOC
Name: Sid Thuragus
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Nationality: Suldan
Appearance: Sid is about 5 feet seven inches tall, with often messed up black hair and grey eyes. No matter in what condition he is, he always gives off some suggestion that he's immensely depraved. Perhaps it's because he never blinks, or because his hair is never neat. Or maybe it has something to do with the blood that's almost always on his hands.
Bio: Sid never knew high standings. He was born to a lowly family, he learned quickly the ways of the street. Even at a young age, people who met him knew there was something off about him. He was nice enough, but somehow looked like as if there was a malevolent force hiding behind the innocent child's face, just waiting for the right time to reveal itself.
At around 20 years of age, he had grown accustomed to the life of the poor, working odd jobs with a bit of moral ambiguity and occasionally nabbing a baker's goods, all the while trying to avoid the ire of both law enforcement and the underground crime community alike. Of course, to step on the toes of some organization or another was inevitable in his standing in life, and he was soon on the run from a newly elected congressman. The congressman to be in question built his campaign on him cracking down on crime, and was out searching for a scapegoat. He found it in the crime ridden streets of the ghettos. What resulted was a large inquisition on crime in the city slums, with many being hauled off to prison. Sid, unlike most, wasn't interested in dungeon life, and ran when the Suldan enforcers came banging on his neighbor's door. What followed was a week of sleeping in dark alleys with one eye open. His reward for escaping capture for seven whole days was a lifetime sentence in the oubliette.
Six years later, an election was held, with a new prospective congressman building his campaign upon punishing the criminals. He won by a landslide. Thus, the people incarcerated by the previous were now being dragged out in droves to be transferred into fighting pits, guillotines, and other related spectacle deaths. In Sid's case, he at least got the choice between fighting in the slums to an arena. He chose the slums. Strangely, his opponent was a Reaper. The first thing Sid did was duck into one of the familiar dark alleyways, thinking he was another upper class twit with no knowledge of the shortcuts. The Reaper quickly followed, proving surprisingly competent at navigating. He was never four blocks behind. However, Sid got some satisfaction from toying with him, hiding in garbage pits, behind curtains, and once on top of the roof, throwing bits of sharp glass, rusty spoons, and anything vaguely aerodynamic at the Reaper's head. At the end of the day, the Reaper caught up to him, but offered him a choice. Death or the Order. Sid, not having enough time to think, chose the Order.
However, the Sid who was tossed into prison was not the same Sid who came out. The malevolence within him had picked it's time, and the time was in the maddeningly dark, lonely pits of the oubliette. Fate had chewed him up and spit him out, leaving nought but a monster where there once was man.
Fighting Style: Sid is unpredictable in combat. He hides, maneuvers around, and surprises enemies from the back. In combat, he is ruthless and almost apathetic to the gore, giggling like a maniac every time he draws blood. When cornered, he practically throws himself at the enemy, fighting mostly with his hands and feet in close quarters. He gives no mercy to the injured or surrendered, preferring to snap the necks of the weak over trying to take on the strong.
Equipment: Sid has little in the way of equipment. Almost everything he has is situational. anything outside of the clothes on his back and a pocket full of money is something that can be used and quickly disposed of when it's usefulness ends. A common thing to find on his person are various throwing things, such as knives, darts, and the occasional pebble that strikes his fancy.
Skills/Abilities:
Quick Thinking: Sid has always used his mind to get into and out of scrapes, improvise to the situation, and make clever plots.
No Understanding of Fear: Sid stares down near death situations the same way a sane person would look at week old cheese.
Stark Raving Mad: Sid may occasionally go into a fit of giggling and raving in the middle of battle, striking fear into his enemies.
Other Information:
