I'm definitely interested in this. I do have a question, though. Berserker class servants are required to have Mad Enhancement, right? If that's the case, is partial enhancement (i.e. the servant is still somewhat able to communicate, at least at times) an option? I know some of the Berserkers outside of mainline Fate had differing degrees of madness. If not, that's fine, I was just curious as I think it'd be more fun to roleplay a character with at least some sort of coherent thought.
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Halyn nodded as the furrier introduced himself. "Felix, eh?" He couldn't remember anyone by that name, but then, he had been gone for quite a while. The mention that the young furrier was not of noble stature, and more importantly, not affiliated with anyone that was, was a bit of a relief and a disappointment simultaneously. Still, he was a bit thankful for the young man's evidently neutral stance. There had been a fair chance of the first person he ran into being a potential enemy, so it seemed luck was in his favor, at least for the moment. "I was actually born in Geltreis myself." He paused. "I've been gone for a long time, though. Decided it was about time to see how things had changed in my old home town."
As the blonde woman approached, Felix saw fit to unveil some information regarding the stranger. Beffelet. That was a name he remembered, and one he had heard mentioned in rumors more recently. A small grin cracked across the young man's face. It seemed luck really was on his side. Felix continued, pointing out the dangerous predicament he was getting himself into. He respected the merchant's position on the matter, but as soon as they learned his name, most of the nobles wouldn't exactly be fond of him in the first place. He gave Felix a nod at the last part of his statement, though he didn't know if the merchant's wish could be fulfilled. These kind of things tended to pull people into them, whether they wanted to be involved or not.
A few moments later, Karcine confirmed Felix's observation by introducing herself. Still smiling, Halyn gave a slight bow. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Beffelet, my name is Halyn LaKruz." He watched the woman's eyes carefully, trying to see any sort of reaction at the name. "I assure you, there's no intrusion. I was just talking to Felix here about the prospect of repairing my cloak and chatting a bit, nothing too serious." He chuckled. The young woman didn't seem to comfortable with the situation at the moment. At the mention of mercenaries, Halyn's interest was piqued. "Mercenaries, you say?" He looked at the young woman quizzically. "What exactly is a young lady like yourself looking into mercenaries for?" He had a feeling that he knew where this conversation was going, if anything he had heard was true.
As the blonde woman approached, Felix saw fit to unveil some information regarding the stranger. Beffelet. That was a name he remembered, and one he had heard mentioned in rumors more recently. A small grin cracked across the young man's face. It seemed luck really was on his side. Felix continued, pointing out the dangerous predicament he was getting himself into. He respected the merchant's position on the matter, but as soon as they learned his name, most of the nobles wouldn't exactly be fond of him in the first place. He gave Felix a nod at the last part of his statement, though he didn't know if the merchant's wish could be fulfilled. These kind of things tended to pull people into them, whether they wanted to be involved or not.
A few moments later, Karcine confirmed Felix's observation by introducing herself. Still smiling, Halyn gave a slight bow. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Beffelet, my name is Halyn LaKruz." He watched the woman's eyes carefully, trying to see any sort of reaction at the name. "I assure you, there's no intrusion. I was just talking to Felix here about the prospect of repairing my cloak and chatting a bit, nothing too serious." He chuckled. The young woman didn't seem to comfortable with the situation at the moment. At the mention of mercenaries, Halyn's interest was piqued. "Mercenaries, you say?" He looked at the young woman quizzically. "What exactly is a young lady like yourself looking into mercenaries for?" He had a feeling that he knew where this conversation was going, if anything he had heard was true.
Halyn was pulled from his aimless meandering by a quick greeting from behind him. He turned on a heel, noting that the voice belonged to a rather short young man, barely twenty, if his estimation was correct. The former mercenary's face changed quickly into a warm smile. With a friendly nod, he returned the gesture. "Oh, good morning there." The young man continued. He was a merchant of sorts, unsurprising, everyone in Geltreis was a merchant in one way or another. Halyn looked down at the thick cloak around him and replied with a chuckle. "I suppose you're right. I just bought the thing, but a long ride has a way of wearing things down pretty quickly." He noticed as the young man's eyes glanced to the brooch. It wasn't apparent if he recognized it or not, but it was a trail worth pursuing. "You worked here for long?" Halyn spoke with a warm, friendly tone, still, one had to almost shout to be heard over the cacophony that the market created. "Oh, Halyn, by the way, a pleasure to meet you." He didn't recognize the furrier, at least not as far as he could remember, but if he'd worked in Geltreis long he was bound to have heard something.
As he was making conversation with the furrier, Halyn noticed another figure approaching them from the side. He glanced towards the newcomer, a blonde woman, with a bit of interest. As he talked with the furrier, he made periodic glances towards the woman, coming to the conclusion that she was staring at them, or perhaps him, after a few moments. His appearance didn't quite fit the bill of a run-of-the-mill traveler, so such things were bound to happen. Even so, the woman seemed to be showing more than fleeting interest, which was more than he could say of most of the whisperers on the street. After a few moments, he waved towards the woman. "Hey there, looking for something?" He spoke with the same friendly voice he'd been conversing with the furrier with. It seemed the young lady had something to say. Regardless, the staring had begun to make him slightly uncomfortable.
As he was making conversation with the furrier, Halyn noticed another figure approaching them from the side. He glanced towards the newcomer, a blonde woman, with a bit of interest. As he talked with the furrier, he made periodic glances towards the woman, coming to the conclusion that she was staring at them, or perhaps him, after a few moments. His appearance didn't quite fit the bill of a run-of-the-mill traveler, so such things were bound to happen. Even so, the woman seemed to be showing more than fleeting interest, which was more than he could say of most of the whisperers on the street. After a few moments, he waved towards the woman. "Hey there, looking for something?" He spoke with the same friendly voice he'd been conversing with the furrier with. It seemed the young lady had something to say. Regardless, the staring had begun to make him slightly uncomfortable.
The sound of trotting hooves had all but ingrained itself in the young man's mind. It'd been a long journey from the west coast, a constant trek that had halted only briefly for occasional meals and rest, but it finally seemed that the traveler had reached his destination. Halyn leaned forward in the saddle as the shadow of Geltreis began to materialize in the distance. The nostalgia of seeing his old home almost brought a smile to the rider's face, but the memories associated with the city held back such a gesture. Still, he had finally arrived, a fact he was thankful for. Halyn looked down at the shaggy grey mane below him. He'd been lucky to find such a reliable mount. The creature was larger than the average horse, and it's thick fur suggested it had been bred for mountain life. It's large, sturdy frame had made carrying supplies a simple task, and even the long journey didn't seem to have worn on the horse's constitution at all. The former mercenary patted the animal gently on the side of it's neck. "We made it, Franc." With a brisk flick of the reins, the horse increased it's gait, quickly closing the distance between their current location and the city gates.
The sound of hooves against cobblestone told the traveler that his journey was finished. As he passed into the city, Halyn paused for a moment to take in the all-too-familiar sights around him. The streets were bustling as always, and the sound of hundreds of voices ringing together served as a tribute to the importance of the city's business. Halyn slowed his horse's pace to a crawl, carefully maneuvering his way through the streets towards the market. He got the occasional odd look, which he attributed to his current appearance and the blatantly visible sword hanging from his back. He brought a gloved hand to the brooch at his neck, his fingers caressing the silver. He doubted anyone would recognize him merely from his appearance, after all, he'd changed quite a bit over the years, but the prospect of someone noticing the crest on the brooch occurred to him. Even so, he wasn't terribly worried. Even if his family wasn't popular, he doubted such a thing was enough to prompt a response.
Halyn led his horse to a nearby stable, carefully cutting his way through the crowded bazaar. He paid the stablemaster for a hearty bag of oats, a reward to his new companion for his efforts, and set off into the market. The black clad man stood out a bit from the merchants and buyers that created the whirlwind of commerce around him. He pulled his cloak around him, cutting through the crowd. For a moment, Halyn's vision drifted to the castle looming over the market, bringing the slightest frown to his face. That's right, he couldn't lose track of what he was here to accomplish. He had no time to waste, or at least that's what he told himself, but he hadn't the slightest idea of where to begin his crusade. He meandered through the crowd, his good eye scouring his surroundings. He'd heard stories of the current state of affairs, but he knew how stories tended to get twisted around. Before anything, he'd need to find a reliable source of information, a guide to tell him what exactly had taken place in his homeland since his absence.
The sound of hooves against cobblestone told the traveler that his journey was finished. As he passed into the city, Halyn paused for a moment to take in the all-too-familiar sights around him. The streets were bustling as always, and the sound of hundreds of voices ringing together served as a tribute to the importance of the city's business. Halyn slowed his horse's pace to a crawl, carefully maneuvering his way through the streets towards the market. He got the occasional odd look, which he attributed to his current appearance and the blatantly visible sword hanging from his back. He brought a gloved hand to the brooch at his neck, his fingers caressing the silver. He doubted anyone would recognize him merely from his appearance, after all, he'd changed quite a bit over the years, but the prospect of someone noticing the crest on the brooch occurred to him. Even so, he wasn't terribly worried. Even if his family wasn't popular, he doubted such a thing was enough to prompt a response.
Halyn led his horse to a nearby stable, carefully cutting his way through the crowded bazaar. He paid the stablemaster for a hearty bag of oats, a reward to his new companion for his efforts, and set off into the market. The black clad man stood out a bit from the merchants and buyers that created the whirlwind of commerce around him. He pulled his cloak around him, cutting through the crowd. For a moment, Halyn's vision drifted to the castle looming over the market, bringing the slightest frown to his face. That's right, he couldn't lose track of what he was here to accomplish. He had no time to waste, or at least that's what he told himself, but he hadn't the slightest idea of where to begin his crusade. He meandered through the crowd, his good eye scouring his surroundings. He'd heard stories of the current state of affairs, but he knew how stories tended to get twisted around. Before anything, he'd need to find a reliable source of information, a guide to tell him what exactly had taken place in his homeland since his absence.
I'm down whenever we're ready too.
Alright, cool. Yeah, I think I'll wait until a few more people join before I make the intro post.
Name: Halyn LaKruz
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Race:Human
Appearance: Halyn is a tall, well-built young man with somewhat fair skin and deep sapphire blue eyes. He stands a bit over six feet in height, with the majority of his body consisting of tightly toned muscle. He has broad shoulders and good posture, giving him a confident, sturdy appearance. Halyn's hair is a deep shade of red, reminiscent of rust, and is somewhat long, walking a fine border between passable and unkempt. His bangs are cut roughly above his eyes, with the sides and back reaching just beyond his shoulders. Halyn's left eye is covered by a coarse black eyepatch that is tied neatly beneath his hair. The young man's facial features are surprisingly soft given the hardened nature of his body. Though not feminine, his visage holds a boyish tint, further emphasized by his lack of facial hair. A single scar, thin and clean, runs up the right side of his face from the bottom of his jaw to the midpoint of his cheek. This mark, along with the eyepatch, seem somewhat out of place on the face on which they reside, though they do supply a bit of masculine compensation to their wearer's naturally youthful appearance.
Clothing: Prior to heading to his destination, Halyn used some of the coin he had earned from his mercenary escapades to purchase clothing befitting the climate of his homeland. On his head, Halyn wears a round hat made of thick black fur. The hat fits snugly, covering his ears and providing a considerable amount of warmth. LaKruz also wears a long cloak made of the same ink-black fur. The cloak, which appears to have been permanently borrowed from a large bear, is thick and cozy, perfect for the long trek through the mountains leading to Geltreis. It reaches the midpoint of Halyn's shin, and is somewhat loose-fitting. The garment fastens at the neck with a silver brooch bearing the emblem of a two-headed elk. The symbol originates from the LaKruz family crest, and was likely taken when Halyn left the country and kept close for many years.
Beneath the cloak, Halyn wears a jack of hard, dark brown leather. The garment is sturdy, and somewhat inflexible, fastening with a series of small steel buckles beneath the left armpit. Though nearly useless against sharp piercing weapons or projectiles, it provides a fair amount of protection against some slashing weapons. It was acquired during the young man's time as a mercenary, and has a worn outline of a moth stitched in white thread near the center of the chest. Beneath the jack, Halyn wears a simple shirt of white silk with a row of silver buttons running up its center. The article is long-sleeved and loose fitting. The sleeves are tucked into a pair of leather gloves that Halyn wears on either hand. The gloves are rather long, running nearly to Halyn's elbows. They are sturdily constructed, and seem to have been used thoroughly.
At his waist, Halyn wears a simple belt of black leather with an unassuming silver buckles. His trousers are also simple, bearing no obvious signs of affluent craftsmanship. They are made of soft cotton dyed black, and are comfortable enough to facilitate a long journey on horseback. Halyn's boots seem to have been expensive at one point, though their leather has been broken in and worn down quite a bit. The black footwear extends to his mid-shin and bears a slight heel with pointed toes. By and large, Halyn's apparel seems far more suited to his identity as a soldier-for-hire than it ever would for his existence as a rich merchant's son. To those who might have known him before, this, combined with his more hardened appearance would make him seem almost like a new man.
Weapons/Belongings: Halyn's primary weapon is a greatsword that was forged for him by a friend during his time in the White Moth Mercenary Company. The sword is quite large, reaching nearly five feet in length and weighing about six pounds. The weapon bears a long, elegant blade forged from high-quality steel. The blade is honed to near razor-sharpness on both sides and tapers gracefully from its hilt into a fine point. The blade is nearly two inches across at its widest point, with a fuller running down the center for the majority of the weapon. The sword bears a semi-circle shaped guard made of solid silver, with an engraving of a two-headed elk carefully carved into its surface on either side at Halyn's request. Past the guard, a portion of the blade is wrapped in leather dyed dark blue. This allows the use of half-swording techniques, making the otherwise large and unwieldy weapon a useful tool even in close quarters. The grip is made of sturdy oak, wrapped in the same blue leather as the ricasso and decorated with a winding strand of silver wire. The greatsword's pommel is a circular piece made of silver, inlaid in pearl with the image of a white moth. While traveling, Halyn typically keeps the sword slung over his back in a rugged sheath made of several layers of hardened leather. While the weapon itself is a borderline work of art, the sheath is purely focused around functionality, with little in the way of adornment.
Besides his greatsword, Halyn carries a hunting knife just under a foot in length at his side. The hilt is carved from some kind of horn or antler, with a steel cap at it's end serving as a pommel. It's guard is a simple rectangular block of steel, reaching just far enough to protect the user from sliding their hand onto the blade. The blade itself is single-edged and made of steel, curving into it's point. The knife is obviously more useful for utility, but it can also serve as a simple, yet effective weapon in it's own right.
Personality: Halyn's life experiences have each helped in their own way to shape his personality into the man he is today. He comes across as rather confident, though not outright boastful. He is more than capable of polite conversation, and has trained himself to remain somewhat tactful, though he is unwavering on issues he holds dear. He is not quick to escalate a situation over trivialities, but is more than prepared to fight for what he believes in. During his time with the White Moth Company, he learned a great deal about 'picking his battles' both in a literal and figurative sense. In general, Halyn is fairly personable, though there is a rage buried deep within him that he hides as well as he can. Ultimately, he seeks to do what he thinks is right, and is willing to do whatever is necessary to reach his goal. This drive is hampered by his own code of honor, and he sometimes has difficulty with the turmoil between the man he wants to be and the goal he wishes to achieve.
History: Halyn comes from a long line of timber merchants native to Geltreis. An old and noble family, they trace their lineage back to the city-state's foundation. For hundreds of years, they held a spot among Geltreis' elite, gaining a considerable amount of prestige and wealth in the process through a thriving timber company. Through shrewd business tactics and a wealth of connections outside of the country, the family was able to maintain their place in the worlds of both politics and business without much difficulty. When the city-state's elite began to discuss the proposition of joining the Arcarti Empire, however, the LaKruz family protested.
Halyn's grandfather, then the head of the family business, spoke out against the prospect, insisting that the city-state's independence was at the core of its success. His arguments fell upon deaf ears, however, and the public reputation of the family began to falter as the country assimilated into Arcartus. Standing upon the same principles, and disgusted at the new order of the country, Halyn's father spoke out against Arcartus, even going so far as to encourage armed revolution from the Empire. This act of rebellion decimated the public reputation of the family, and they became outright ostracized by the community. Overcome by frustration, Halyn's father eventually took his own life. The then-teenaged merchant's son left the country shortly thereafter, heading west in search of something he felt his father had lacked.
Eventually, Halyn joined the White Moth Mercenary Company, a somewhat well-known, though small, band of soldiers-for-hire. He spent several years with the company, traveling around the world and learning a fair amount about the arts of war and diplomacy. He ascended the ranks within the group, becoming well known by his brothers in arms for having a tongue as sharp as his blade. After many years, he retired from the company, a shocking decision, especially given his age. He returned to Estovet and set forth towards his former home, hoping that somehow the things he had learned would help him achieve what his father and grandfather could not: the return of an independent Geltreis.
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Race:Human
Appearance: Halyn is a tall, well-built young man with somewhat fair skin and deep sapphire blue eyes. He stands a bit over six feet in height, with the majority of his body consisting of tightly toned muscle. He has broad shoulders and good posture, giving him a confident, sturdy appearance. Halyn's hair is a deep shade of red, reminiscent of rust, and is somewhat long, walking a fine border between passable and unkempt. His bangs are cut roughly above his eyes, with the sides and back reaching just beyond his shoulders. Halyn's left eye is covered by a coarse black eyepatch that is tied neatly beneath his hair. The young man's facial features are surprisingly soft given the hardened nature of his body. Though not feminine, his visage holds a boyish tint, further emphasized by his lack of facial hair. A single scar, thin and clean, runs up the right side of his face from the bottom of his jaw to the midpoint of his cheek. This mark, along with the eyepatch, seem somewhat out of place on the face on which they reside, though they do supply a bit of masculine compensation to their wearer's naturally youthful appearance.
Clothing: Prior to heading to his destination, Halyn used some of the coin he had earned from his mercenary escapades to purchase clothing befitting the climate of his homeland. On his head, Halyn wears a round hat made of thick black fur. The hat fits snugly, covering his ears and providing a considerable amount of warmth. LaKruz also wears a long cloak made of the same ink-black fur. The cloak, which appears to have been permanently borrowed from a large bear, is thick and cozy, perfect for the long trek through the mountains leading to Geltreis. It reaches the midpoint of Halyn's shin, and is somewhat loose-fitting. The garment fastens at the neck with a silver brooch bearing the emblem of a two-headed elk. The symbol originates from the LaKruz family crest, and was likely taken when Halyn left the country and kept close for many years.
Beneath the cloak, Halyn wears a jack of hard, dark brown leather. The garment is sturdy, and somewhat inflexible, fastening with a series of small steel buckles beneath the left armpit. Though nearly useless against sharp piercing weapons or projectiles, it provides a fair amount of protection against some slashing weapons. It was acquired during the young man's time as a mercenary, and has a worn outline of a moth stitched in white thread near the center of the chest. Beneath the jack, Halyn wears a simple shirt of white silk with a row of silver buttons running up its center. The article is long-sleeved and loose fitting. The sleeves are tucked into a pair of leather gloves that Halyn wears on either hand. The gloves are rather long, running nearly to Halyn's elbows. They are sturdily constructed, and seem to have been used thoroughly.
At his waist, Halyn wears a simple belt of black leather with an unassuming silver buckles. His trousers are also simple, bearing no obvious signs of affluent craftsmanship. They are made of soft cotton dyed black, and are comfortable enough to facilitate a long journey on horseback. Halyn's boots seem to have been expensive at one point, though their leather has been broken in and worn down quite a bit. The black footwear extends to his mid-shin and bears a slight heel with pointed toes. By and large, Halyn's apparel seems far more suited to his identity as a soldier-for-hire than it ever would for his existence as a rich merchant's son. To those who might have known him before, this, combined with his more hardened appearance would make him seem almost like a new man.
Weapons/Belongings: Halyn's primary weapon is a greatsword that was forged for him by a friend during his time in the White Moth Mercenary Company. The sword is quite large, reaching nearly five feet in length and weighing about six pounds. The weapon bears a long, elegant blade forged from high-quality steel. The blade is honed to near razor-sharpness on both sides and tapers gracefully from its hilt into a fine point. The blade is nearly two inches across at its widest point, with a fuller running down the center for the majority of the weapon. The sword bears a semi-circle shaped guard made of solid silver, with an engraving of a two-headed elk carefully carved into its surface on either side at Halyn's request. Past the guard, a portion of the blade is wrapped in leather dyed dark blue. This allows the use of half-swording techniques, making the otherwise large and unwieldy weapon a useful tool even in close quarters. The grip is made of sturdy oak, wrapped in the same blue leather as the ricasso and decorated with a winding strand of silver wire. The greatsword's pommel is a circular piece made of silver, inlaid in pearl with the image of a white moth. While traveling, Halyn typically keeps the sword slung over his back in a rugged sheath made of several layers of hardened leather. While the weapon itself is a borderline work of art, the sheath is purely focused around functionality, with little in the way of adornment.
Besides his greatsword, Halyn carries a hunting knife just under a foot in length at his side. The hilt is carved from some kind of horn or antler, with a steel cap at it's end serving as a pommel. It's guard is a simple rectangular block of steel, reaching just far enough to protect the user from sliding their hand onto the blade. The blade itself is single-edged and made of steel, curving into it's point. The knife is obviously more useful for utility, but it can also serve as a simple, yet effective weapon in it's own right.
Personality: Halyn's life experiences have each helped in their own way to shape his personality into the man he is today. He comes across as rather confident, though not outright boastful. He is more than capable of polite conversation, and has trained himself to remain somewhat tactful, though he is unwavering on issues he holds dear. He is not quick to escalate a situation over trivialities, but is more than prepared to fight for what he believes in. During his time with the White Moth Company, he learned a great deal about 'picking his battles' both in a literal and figurative sense. In general, Halyn is fairly personable, though there is a rage buried deep within him that he hides as well as he can. Ultimately, he seeks to do what he thinks is right, and is willing to do whatever is necessary to reach his goal. This drive is hampered by his own code of honor, and he sometimes has difficulty with the turmoil between the man he wants to be and the goal he wishes to achieve.
History: Halyn comes from a long line of timber merchants native to Geltreis. An old and noble family, they trace their lineage back to the city-state's foundation. For hundreds of years, they held a spot among Geltreis' elite, gaining a considerable amount of prestige and wealth in the process through a thriving timber company. Through shrewd business tactics and a wealth of connections outside of the country, the family was able to maintain their place in the worlds of both politics and business without much difficulty. When the city-state's elite began to discuss the proposition of joining the Arcarti Empire, however, the LaKruz family protested.
Halyn's grandfather, then the head of the family business, spoke out against the prospect, insisting that the city-state's independence was at the core of its success. His arguments fell upon deaf ears, however, and the public reputation of the family began to falter as the country assimilated into Arcartus. Standing upon the same principles, and disgusted at the new order of the country, Halyn's father spoke out against Arcartus, even going so far as to encourage armed revolution from the Empire. This act of rebellion decimated the public reputation of the family, and they became outright ostracized by the community. Overcome by frustration, Halyn's father eventually took his own life. The then-teenaged merchant's son left the country shortly thereafter, heading west in search of something he felt his father had lacked.
Eventually, Halyn joined the White Moth Mercenary Company, a somewhat well-known, though small, band of soldiers-for-hire. He spent several years with the company, traveling around the world and learning a fair amount about the arts of war and diplomacy. He ascended the ranks within the group, becoming well known by his brothers in arms for having a tongue as sharp as his blade. After many years, he retired from the company, a shocking decision, especially given his age. He returned to Estovet and set forth towards his former home, hoping that somehow the things he had learned would help him achieve what his father and grandfather could not: the return of an independent Geltreis.
Accepted! Welcome aboard.
Accepted. Welcome to the thread!
There exists a plane between life and death, a haven where the lost souls of the departed may seek repentance and absolution for their earthly sins. This realm serves as a means of passing on for those who are bound by the failings of their mortal lives. It's inhabitants are numerous and diverse, with people from all walks of life and even different time periods being drawn to it. Some find their way there quickly, while others spend aeons wandering through the endless void as a spirit. Regardless, these spirits eventually find their way to the Grey Plains, and to the city that rests in their center. The city of Lambrecht, a single drop of gold in a sea of grey, serves as a beacon, a light in the darkness for wandering souls. This city is the domain of the Archangel Argyle, the overseer for the purification of these vagrant spirits. For centuries he has ruled over the realm, giving purpose to the wanderers who find their way into his domain. His method of purification serves a dual purpose, however. The Archangel tasks the inhabitants of his realm with the hunting of demons, abominations created from the turbulent souls of those who have lost all hope. These former humans, having rejected redemption, become consumed by their own darkness, wreaking havoc on an untold scale. The only way such monstrosities could ever hope to find peace is through their utter destruction. Thus, those seeking redemption fight not only to purify their fallen brothers, but to find a purpose and prevent themselves from sharing the same grisly fate. In the rift between life and death, one must always seek the light, or risk being consumed by the darkness that surrounds them.
Welcome to the thread! As you probably got from the intro, this thread is set in a sort of purgatory, watched over by an archangel. The player characters are human souls, who have found their way to this place. To seek redemption for their earthly sins, they must hunt demons, which are the result of human souls who have lost themselves and become corrupted.
Rules:
1: No overpowered characters. Magic is prevalent, but be respectful of other players when considering your abilities.
2: No autohitting/godmodding. Again, be respectful.
3: Please let me know if you're going to be gone for a long period of time. I understand that real life obviously comes first, but if you let me know we can avoid freezing people.
4: Unless otherwise stated, dying sends you back to Lambrecht. Dying also generally will lower your Spirit Clarity.
5: You can't start with clear or black Spirit Clarity. Clear souls will not maintain their form in Lambrecht, and demons obviously won't be welcomed with open arms.
Spirit Clarity:
Spirit clarity is the meter used to determine how close an individual is to achieving redemption. Performing one's duties brightens the shade, while extreme negative emotions tend to darken it. A person's Spirit Clarity will sometimes appear as a visible aura around them, usually upon changing color. Demons and Angels are capable of seeing a person's Soul Clarity at any given time.
Clear: A clear soul is one that has achieved redemption, and thus may pass on in peace.
White
Gold
Green
Crimson
Violet
Black: A soul that has darkened completely will become black, twisting the human spirit into a demon. Once a person reaches black Spirit Clarity, they cannot be purified unless they are destroyed.
Bio Format:
Name:
Age(At time of death):
Gender:
Appearance:
Personality:
Weapons:
Abilities:
History:
Spirit Clarity(Upon Entry):
Character List:
Drowsy Pangolin- Domino Stross, Annabel Trist
Sightles- Arsen Carue
Epsir- Vivian Lenitz
My Bios:
Name: Domino Stross
Age(At time of death): 21
Gender: Male
Appearance: Domino has somewhat of an aura of self-importance around him. He stands only slightly above average height, but carries himself as if he were a giant. He is of average build, and has dark tan skin, with bright pink eyes. His hair is long and a bit wavy, but he keeps it well-combed. He has strong facial features and always seems to be wearing an unshakeable smirk. A small scar runs from the corner of his mouth onto his cheek.
Domino's clothing appears expensive, like something an aristocrat might wear. His head is covered by a top hat made of black felt with a bright crimson band. He also wears a long, collared, trench coat made of a thick black fabric with a row of golden buttons running down the front. His coat functions well for concealing weaponry. Beneath the coat, he wears a bright red dress shirt and a black silken vest, also bearing golden buttons. His trousers are black and easy to maneuver in. In addition to this garb, he wears a pair of expensive-looking black boots. His right wrist has a thick metal bracer that runs from the base of his hand to his elbow. A chain is attached to the bracer, and seemingly is coiled within the armguard, allowing it to be extended by some sort of clockwork machinery.
Personality: Domino maintains a sense of cockiness and self-superiority despite his death. He is a bit of a show-off, always seeking to make any situation into a show. His arrogance can make others weary, but his charismatic personality sometimes serves to draw others to him. Beneath his armor of pride and arrogance, he has many regrets. He feels he was used in his life, and has some guilt about the actions he committed. He keeps all this well beneath the surface, however.
Weapons: Domino's primary weapon is a pendulum-shaped axe. The weapon is usually kept concealed within his coat, and is small enough to use with one hand. The handle and the blade itself seem to be made of steel, giving the weapon a bit of heft. A ring is attached at the base of the handle allowing the weapon to be linked to a chain, giving the wielder range. The unique shape of the weapon's blade allows it to be used to hook opponents and pull them towards the user.
In addition to his axe, Domino carries a wide assortment of knives, most of which are small double-edged throwing knives. The weapons have no hilts, being forged from individual bits of steel. They are balanced well and can be used very quickly. In addition to the throwing knives, Domino carries a pair of steel combat knives. The weapons have hilts made of a strange composite material that seems quite resilient. The weapons are single-edged and generally used as a melee alternative to the axe.
Abilities: Domino has the ability to become and manipulate smoke. He can temporarily cause his body to disintegrate into a cloud of smoke before re-materializing seconds later. This gives him an exceptional amount of mobility. In addition, he can create and manipulate smoke from his body, allowing him to deny the vision of his enemies. His ability to dematerialize serves as a sort of short-range teleportation, serving as an escape in unfavorable situations. He can also use this ability on anything he is touching, allowing him to transport his allies with him.
History: Domino was raised from an early age to be a hired assassin for the government of his homeland. He was taken off the streets, given a weapon, and taught how to kill in the most efficient way possible. He quickly became quite skilled at his job, and became infamous for his confident attitude, often putting himself in overly difficult situations just to prove his strength. Unfortunately for Domino, his position as a hired blade became known to the general public. In an effort to save face, the government of his homeland set to work in dismantling their network of assassins, having them eliminate each other one by one. Domino was one of the last two assassins. He was sent to kill his last surviving comrade. He was successful, but was surprised when his superiors betrayed him, setting off a firebomb in the building he was in. He lay crushed beneath a support beam, realizing he had been used as he choked to death on the smoke that filled the room. His spirit now has found it's way to Lambrecht, held back from the afterlife by his anger at being used for such atrocities only to be betrayed.
Spirit Clarity(Upon Entry): Green
Name: Annabel Trist
Age(At time of death): 22
Gender: Female
Appearance: Annabel has a surprisingly slight build for her strength. She is slightly shorter than average height with thin but muscular limbs. She has a very pale complexion and deep blue eyes. Her hair is a golden blonde, and is usually kept in two tight braids bound with crimson ribbons. She has soft facial features, and always appears to be lost in thought.
Annabel's first piece of clothing is a hooded coat made of a deep maroon fabric. The coat is thick and warm. The interior is lined with white wool, which extends to the outer edges of the garment. The coat fastens with a row of black buttons. Around her neck, Annabel wears a white scarf. Beneath the coat, Annabel wears a simple outfit consisting of a long-sleeved shirt made of white silk, a black leather vest that fastens with a row of silver buttons, and a pair of tight-fitting black trousers. On her feet, she wears boots made of soft leather. The shoes have a slight heel and tend to clack when she walks. Annabel also wears a pair of gloves made from a similar leather.
Personality: Annabel is usually quiet and a bit reserved. She is not unfriendly, per-say, more so she often gets consumed in her own thoughts. She helps others when she can, seeming to genuinely seek repentance for her sins. There is a certain sadness about her, though she tries to conceal it. Beneath her quiet surface there is a tumultuous cloud of guilt, frustration, and strife. Though this weight wears her down, she constantly strives to overcome it and escape the demons that destroyed her life.
Weapons: Annabel's sole weapon is a large cleaver-esque sword. The blade, referred to as the Great Razor, was a ceremonial weapon passed down through the family line of Esterl's executioners. Despite her death, the weapon still seems to haunt her, following her into the afterlife as a constant reminder of her sins. It is a heavy weapon, and is nearly as tall as it's wielder when measured from tip to pommel. The blade of the weapon is rather thin, but quite large in surface area, giving it a style of wielding more in common with an axe than a sword. The weapon has a square tip, lacking any sort of point, with a long slightly curving edge. The weapon itself seems to be made of steel or a similar metal, though it seems to have darkened slightly, giving it a gunmetal-grey hue. The entire weapon is one piece, with it's hilt being wrapped in a bright crimson fabric. The hilt is long, encouraging two-handed use by its owner, and ends in a square pommel. The weapon is often kept in a sheathe of soft leather that Annabel keeps slung over her shoulder. It is surprising that such a small woman could wield the weapon at all, much less use it effectively.
The reason the weapon followed Annabel into death is unknown, but it seems to carry an odd aura about it, perhaps tainted by the numerous lives it ended. When a person wields it, their mind seems to be flooded by the voices of these unfortunate souls. It would seem the weapon followed Annabel as a sort of punishment. A visible reminder of the atrocities she committed in life.
Abilities: Annabel's ability stems from the pent up frustration and guilt she has carried for so long. In times of extreme danger, she can use these feelings, turning her regret into a burning rage. This ability greatly increases her physical strength and speed, as well as quickly healing any wounds she may have received. It is, however, a double-edged sword. To make use of her ability, Annabel must use her own soul as fuel, and the more she uses her ability, the darker her Spirit Clarity becomes. If she were to use it recklessly, she would quickly drive herself to become a demon, and thus it is important that she only use it in the most extreme of circumstances. When she makes use of her ability, an aura consistent with the color of her Spirit Clarity emanates from her body and her sword. When this power flows into her blade, it produces wounds that bear a curse, making them extremely difficult to heal or mend. In addition, the voices that seem to haunt the blade become louder in the user's mind during use.
History: Annabel was born the daughter of an executioner. She knew from an early age that one day she would inherit her father's position, as was the way of the land. Despite this, her father tried his best to give her a normal life as much as he could, sheltering her from the horrors that were unavoidable in his line of work. He taught her the basics, but he never allowed the girl to witness his executions, planning to wait until she was old enough to handle the reality of such things. Unfortunately, his plans failed, as he became deathly ill when Annabel was still quite young. At the age of fourteen, the girl was forced to take over as the state executioner. The horrors of what she had to do scarred the young girl's mind, and for years her dreams were haunted by the desperate cries of the condemned. Eventually, the burden of guilt broke the young woman, and she took her own life. Her soul, still tormented by guilt, eventually found it's way to Lambrecht.
Spirit Clarity(Upon Entry): Crimson
Welcome to the thread! As you probably got from the intro, this thread is set in a sort of purgatory, watched over by an archangel. The player characters are human souls, who have found their way to this place. To seek redemption for their earthly sins, they must hunt demons, which are the result of human souls who have lost themselves and become corrupted.
Rules:
1: No overpowered characters. Magic is prevalent, but be respectful of other players when considering your abilities.
2: No autohitting/godmodding. Again, be respectful.
3: Please let me know if you're going to be gone for a long period of time. I understand that real life obviously comes first, but if you let me know we can avoid freezing people.
4: Unless otherwise stated, dying sends you back to Lambrecht. Dying also generally will lower your Spirit Clarity.
5: You can't start with clear or black Spirit Clarity. Clear souls will not maintain their form in Lambrecht, and demons obviously won't be welcomed with open arms.
Spirit Clarity:
Spirit clarity is the meter used to determine how close an individual is to achieving redemption. Performing one's duties brightens the shade, while extreme negative emotions tend to darken it. A person's Spirit Clarity will sometimes appear as a visible aura around them, usually upon changing color. Demons and Angels are capable of seeing a person's Soul Clarity at any given time.
Clear: A clear soul is one that has achieved redemption, and thus may pass on in peace.
White
Gold
Green
Crimson
Violet
Black: A soul that has darkened completely will become black, twisting the human spirit into a demon. Once a person reaches black Spirit Clarity, they cannot be purified unless they are destroyed.
Bio Format:
Name:
Age(At time of death):
Gender:
Appearance:
Personality:
Weapons:
Abilities:
History:
Spirit Clarity(Upon Entry):
Character List:
Drowsy Pangolin- Domino Stross, Annabel Trist
Sightles- Arsen Carue
Epsir- Vivian Lenitz
My Bios:
Name: Domino Stross
Age(At time of death): 21
Gender: Male
Appearance: Domino has somewhat of an aura of self-importance around him. He stands only slightly above average height, but carries himself as if he were a giant. He is of average build, and has dark tan skin, with bright pink eyes. His hair is long and a bit wavy, but he keeps it well-combed. He has strong facial features and always seems to be wearing an unshakeable smirk. A small scar runs from the corner of his mouth onto his cheek.
Domino's clothing appears expensive, like something an aristocrat might wear. His head is covered by a top hat made of black felt with a bright crimson band. He also wears a long, collared, trench coat made of a thick black fabric with a row of golden buttons running down the front. His coat functions well for concealing weaponry. Beneath the coat, he wears a bright red dress shirt and a black silken vest, also bearing golden buttons. His trousers are black and easy to maneuver in. In addition to this garb, he wears a pair of expensive-looking black boots. His right wrist has a thick metal bracer that runs from the base of his hand to his elbow. A chain is attached to the bracer, and seemingly is coiled within the armguard, allowing it to be extended by some sort of clockwork machinery.
Personality: Domino maintains a sense of cockiness and self-superiority despite his death. He is a bit of a show-off, always seeking to make any situation into a show. His arrogance can make others weary, but his charismatic personality sometimes serves to draw others to him. Beneath his armor of pride and arrogance, he has many regrets. He feels he was used in his life, and has some guilt about the actions he committed. He keeps all this well beneath the surface, however.
Weapons: Domino's primary weapon is a pendulum-shaped axe. The weapon is usually kept concealed within his coat, and is small enough to use with one hand. The handle and the blade itself seem to be made of steel, giving the weapon a bit of heft. A ring is attached at the base of the handle allowing the weapon to be linked to a chain, giving the wielder range. The unique shape of the weapon's blade allows it to be used to hook opponents and pull them towards the user.
In addition to his axe, Domino carries a wide assortment of knives, most of which are small double-edged throwing knives. The weapons have no hilts, being forged from individual bits of steel. They are balanced well and can be used very quickly. In addition to the throwing knives, Domino carries a pair of steel combat knives. The weapons have hilts made of a strange composite material that seems quite resilient. The weapons are single-edged and generally used as a melee alternative to the axe.
Abilities: Domino has the ability to become and manipulate smoke. He can temporarily cause his body to disintegrate into a cloud of smoke before re-materializing seconds later. This gives him an exceptional amount of mobility. In addition, he can create and manipulate smoke from his body, allowing him to deny the vision of his enemies. His ability to dematerialize serves as a sort of short-range teleportation, serving as an escape in unfavorable situations. He can also use this ability on anything he is touching, allowing him to transport his allies with him.
History: Domino was raised from an early age to be a hired assassin for the government of his homeland. He was taken off the streets, given a weapon, and taught how to kill in the most efficient way possible. He quickly became quite skilled at his job, and became infamous for his confident attitude, often putting himself in overly difficult situations just to prove his strength. Unfortunately for Domino, his position as a hired blade became known to the general public. In an effort to save face, the government of his homeland set to work in dismantling their network of assassins, having them eliminate each other one by one. Domino was one of the last two assassins. He was sent to kill his last surviving comrade. He was successful, but was surprised when his superiors betrayed him, setting off a firebomb in the building he was in. He lay crushed beneath a support beam, realizing he had been used as he choked to death on the smoke that filled the room. His spirit now has found it's way to Lambrecht, held back from the afterlife by his anger at being used for such atrocities only to be betrayed.
Spirit Clarity(Upon Entry): Green
Name: Annabel Trist
Age(At time of death): 22
Gender: Female
Appearance: Annabel has a surprisingly slight build for her strength. She is slightly shorter than average height with thin but muscular limbs. She has a very pale complexion and deep blue eyes. Her hair is a golden blonde, and is usually kept in two tight braids bound with crimson ribbons. She has soft facial features, and always appears to be lost in thought.
Annabel's first piece of clothing is a hooded coat made of a deep maroon fabric. The coat is thick and warm. The interior is lined with white wool, which extends to the outer edges of the garment. The coat fastens with a row of black buttons. Around her neck, Annabel wears a white scarf. Beneath the coat, Annabel wears a simple outfit consisting of a long-sleeved shirt made of white silk, a black leather vest that fastens with a row of silver buttons, and a pair of tight-fitting black trousers. On her feet, she wears boots made of soft leather. The shoes have a slight heel and tend to clack when she walks. Annabel also wears a pair of gloves made from a similar leather.
Personality: Annabel is usually quiet and a bit reserved. She is not unfriendly, per-say, more so she often gets consumed in her own thoughts. She helps others when she can, seeming to genuinely seek repentance for her sins. There is a certain sadness about her, though she tries to conceal it. Beneath her quiet surface there is a tumultuous cloud of guilt, frustration, and strife. Though this weight wears her down, she constantly strives to overcome it and escape the demons that destroyed her life.
Weapons: Annabel's sole weapon is a large cleaver-esque sword. The blade, referred to as the Great Razor, was a ceremonial weapon passed down through the family line of Esterl's executioners. Despite her death, the weapon still seems to haunt her, following her into the afterlife as a constant reminder of her sins. It is a heavy weapon, and is nearly as tall as it's wielder when measured from tip to pommel. The blade of the weapon is rather thin, but quite large in surface area, giving it a style of wielding more in common with an axe than a sword. The weapon has a square tip, lacking any sort of point, with a long slightly curving edge. The weapon itself seems to be made of steel or a similar metal, though it seems to have darkened slightly, giving it a gunmetal-grey hue. The entire weapon is one piece, with it's hilt being wrapped in a bright crimson fabric. The hilt is long, encouraging two-handed use by its owner, and ends in a square pommel. The weapon is often kept in a sheathe of soft leather that Annabel keeps slung over her shoulder. It is surprising that such a small woman could wield the weapon at all, much less use it effectively.
The reason the weapon followed Annabel into death is unknown, but it seems to carry an odd aura about it, perhaps tainted by the numerous lives it ended. When a person wields it, their mind seems to be flooded by the voices of these unfortunate souls. It would seem the weapon followed Annabel as a sort of punishment. A visible reminder of the atrocities she committed in life.
Abilities: Annabel's ability stems from the pent up frustration and guilt she has carried for so long. In times of extreme danger, she can use these feelings, turning her regret into a burning rage. This ability greatly increases her physical strength and speed, as well as quickly healing any wounds she may have received. It is, however, a double-edged sword. To make use of her ability, Annabel must use her own soul as fuel, and the more she uses her ability, the darker her Spirit Clarity becomes. If she were to use it recklessly, she would quickly drive herself to become a demon, and thus it is important that she only use it in the most extreme of circumstances. When she makes use of her ability, an aura consistent with the color of her Spirit Clarity emanates from her body and her sword. When this power flows into her blade, it produces wounds that bear a curse, making them extremely difficult to heal or mend. In addition, the voices that seem to haunt the blade become louder in the user's mind during use.
History: Annabel was born the daughter of an executioner. She knew from an early age that one day she would inherit her father's position, as was the way of the land. Despite this, her father tried his best to give her a normal life as much as he could, sheltering her from the horrors that were unavoidable in his line of work. He taught her the basics, but he never allowed the girl to witness his executions, planning to wait until she was old enough to handle the reality of such things. Unfortunately, his plans failed, as he became deathly ill when Annabel was still quite young. At the age of fourteen, the girl was forced to take over as the state executioner. The horrors of what she had to do scarred the young girl's mind, and for years her dreams were haunted by the desperate cries of the condemned. Eventually, the burden of guilt broke the young woman, and she took her own life. Her soul, still tormented by guilt, eventually found it's way to Lambrecht.
Spirit Clarity(Upon Entry): Crimson
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