Athinar
Member
Big Stupid. Veteran from Oldguild.
- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Athinar
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1697 (0.38 / day)
- VMs: 3
-
Username history
- Athinar 12 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
Tactical Roleplaying Operations
Most Recent Posts
Hmmm. Okay, I think I'll do the Demon one, just to change it up a bit, since there's already one Angel.
Okay, I gots me a question about the status of my character. I'm thinking about making an Angel of Hope, or a Demon of Wrath. Could you tell me the possible ranks of those emotions?
Also, reserve, please.
Also, reserve, please.
WOOO!
Name: Athinar Da' Danash
Age/Race/Gender: 326-year old- almost human male. (Looks to be around 35)
Profession: Being really old and trying to make his magic better. So probably mage.
Appearance:
Armor/Clothing: Nothing special. Black robes, leather padding in the chest area.
Weaponry: Daggers, of all kinds. Throwing daggers, executioner's daggers, long daggers, stilettos... He generally keeps around 3 throwing daggers on his person at all times, but he's proficient with them all.
Other Items: A single ring, with a smooth ruby sphere set in the middle. It glows when tapped, and summons a grimoire of spells, mainly focused on flame, but does include various others, collected throughout the years.
Skills: Tactical analysis, observation, magical languages. Intelligent and calculating.
Abilities: An almost unlimited pool of fire spells, varying in strength, and spells of other elements, but those are generally weaker. He has an enormous amount of magical energy, but this is at a counterpoint with his inability to face opponents head-on in a physical fight.
Personality: Athinar is quiet most of the time, except for when he is communicating with those he works with. World-weary and jaded, he has learned to doubt the morality of others, which makes him incapable of forming strong bonds with others.
History:
Where.... where am I?
More importantly.... who am I? ....
Athinar woke up in a dark room. That's all he remembered. Nothing before that. A skeleton lied on the floor in front of the door, with several lines like scratch marks on the wood. When he got out of the bed, he spoke. Nobody, including himself, knows what he said, but the door exploded in front of him, in a blast of fire. As soon as he left the room, the skeleton still inside, he was shocked by what he saw. An entire town, aflame. Running between the buildings frantically, he tried to save the villagers, but as soon as he got close, his hands burst into flame. With cries of "Demon!" hounding him, he ran from the town. Leaving the burning village, he went from town to town, trying to find out what he was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eventually, Athinar came to a small hamlet, a couple miles outside a city, where about a dozen bandits were attacking the population. The peasant's struggled against the rouges, but to no avail. Their pitchforks and carving knives were no match for the broadswords and bucklers of the bandits. Stepping in, he burnt the bandits to a crisp, errant power flaring. Turning to the peasant family, he saw all but one young woman quaking in fear. This woman in particular took a liking to Athinar, and they quickly fell in love. They had a family by the end of the year.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the years passed, his family grew old, and died, while he still looked young. The village suffered under the ravages of time, while he did not. Setting out, away from the painful memories, he once again tried to find out what he was. Journeying across the land, he gathered spells and trained his magical ability. He didn't have much else to do, but search through ancient tomes and temples. 150 years later, the earthquake happened. Imbued with a sense of world-weariness, he heads to the Keep to see if there's anything to do with his past.
Age/Race/Gender: 326-year old- almost human male. (Looks to be around 35)
Profession: Being really old and trying to make his magic better. So probably mage.
Appearance:
Armor/Clothing: Nothing special. Black robes, leather padding in the chest area.
Weaponry: Daggers, of all kinds. Throwing daggers, executioner's daggers, long daggers, stilettos... He generally keeps around 3 throwing daggers on his person at all times, but he's proficient with them all.
Other Items: A single ring, with a smooth ruby sphere set in the middle. It glows when tapped, and summons a grimoire of spells, mainly focused on flame, but does include various others, collected throughout the years.
Skills: Tactical analysis, observation, magical languages. Intelligent and calculating.
Abilities: An almost unlimited pool of fire spells, varying in strength, and spells of other elements, but those are generally weaker. He has an enormous amount of magical energy, but this is at a counterpoint with his inability to face opponents head-on in a physical fight.
Personality: Athinar is quiet most of the time, except for when he is communicating with those he works with. World-weary and jaded, he has learned to doubt the morality of others, which makes him incapable of forming strong bonds with others.
History:
Where.... where am I?
More importantly.... who am I? ....
Athinar woke up in a dark room. That's all he remembered. Nothing before that. A skeleton lied on the floor in front of the door, with several lines like scratch marks on the wood. When he got out of the bed, he spoke. Nobody, including himself, knows what he said, but the door exploded in front of him, in a blast of fire. As soon as he left the room, the skeleton still inside, he was shocked by what he saw. An entire town, aflame. Running between the buildings frantically, he tried to save the villagers, but as soon as he got close, his hands burst into flame. With cries of "Demon!" hounding him, he ran from the town. Leaving the burning village, he went from town to town, trying to find out what he was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eventually, Athinar came to a small hamlet, a couple miles outside a city, where about a dozen bandits were attacking the population. The peasant's struggled against the rouges, but to no avail. Their pitchforks and carving knives were no match for the broadswords and bucklers of the bandits. Stepping in, he burnt the bandits to a crisp, errant power flaring. Turning to the peasant family, he saw all but one young woman quaking in fear. This woman in particular took a liking to Athinar, and they quickly fell in love. They had a family by the end of the year.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the years passed, his family grew old, and died, while he still looked young. The village suffered under the ravages of time, while he did not. Setting out, away from the painful memories, he once again tried to find out what he was. Journeying across the land, he gathered spells and trained his magical ability. He didn't have much else to do, but search through ancient tomes and temples. 150 years later, the earthquake happened. Imbued with a sense of world-weariness, he heads to the Keep to see if there's anything to do with his past.
Heh, this should be fun!
Yay! I'm accepted!
Hey, I edited the history. Is it acceptable?
Name: Ath' Le-gatis
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Appearance: Blonde, curly hair is generally obscured by bandanna or hat, and there is a thin scar that runs along his jawline, which is a cause of shame to him, so he covers it with another bandanna.
Personality: Needs to prove to himself that he matters, somewhat depressed, quiet, and prone to fits of cold anger when his scar is brought up. Is open with people, but does hide certain things from them.
History/Biography:
"Aye, sit down, sit down, and lemme tell ye a story..."
All of his young life, Ath' wanted to be a sailor. Raised in the hardy north, it was almost expected from him to follow in his father's footsteps.When he was 15, he finally got his chance, and became the Ship's Boy on his father's vessel. Sailing for four years, he finally had gotten enough experience, that his father promoted him to the lookout position in the crow's nest. His new-found position couldn't prepare him for what happened next, though. A tempest, of titanic proportions, came in from the east, and buffeting the poor ship, dashed it upon the rocks of a port island, the very one they were bound for. Picked up by the locals, he's lived in our fair town for about a year. Don't think 'ell last long, do ye? Ah, I see, there's a Dread Pira' about. Well, best o' luck to the boy...
Emplacement of future Slave Brand: Top of right wrist.
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Skin Deep - A Tale of pirates, adventure, infamy and treasures!
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Yarr!
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