Ducksworth

Blood of the Crown

This has really gotten away from me and I'm really far behind but I will catch up and get my CS made! Give me some time and reserve me a spot, please!

Blood of the Crown

Looking great so far! Let me know if you want help fleshing anything out, even if it's just as a sounding board!

Blood of the Crown (Medieval Fantasy, Royalty, Magic)

@Lyla Great! I shall get started on a CS, any sort of guideline/template you want us to use or..?

Noble Arms: The ASEAN War - Thread Three, the Darkest Hour

Archer “Griff” Griffin

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Richmond upon Thames, London, UK	2022-11-15, 08:36, UTC+0

For any other normal, non-military, family, receiving a knock on the door at this time in the morning would almost be unheard of but not for the Griffins. Stood at the door was by all regular standards, a military recruiter. His Father was beaming with joy when Archer walked into the room, completely unaware of the implications of happenstance.

"Archer, I knew you'd come around eventually," his father said, clapping him on the back with a broad smile. "This is a proud moment for our family. I’ll leave you to it. Got to head to the base myself."

Archer watched as his father grabbed his coat and left the house, still basking in the moment he believed to be a turning point in his son's life. The door clicked shut, leaving Archer alone with the recruiter, Langley.

Langley stepped forward, his demeanor professional yet approachable. "Good morning, Archer. My name is Langley, and I represent a special task force. I'm here to discuss a unique opportunity, one that requires someone with your specific background and capabilities."

Archer's curiosity was piqued. "A special task force? What's this all about?"

Langley opened his briefcase and pulled out a dossier. "Your academic achievements, physical training, and the legacy of your parents make you an ideal candidate for Task Force Obsidian. But more importantly, your recent emergence of a Noble Arm has caught our attention."

Archer's eyes widened. "My Noble Arm? I didn't think anyone outside my family knew about that. Honestly, I don't even think it's anything special."

Langley raised an eyebrow. "Your Noble Arm has great potential, even if you don't see it yet. Task Force Obsidian has suffered significant losses and is in desperate need of new talent to rebuild and face the challenges ahead. We believe your Noble Arm could be a crucial asset in our operations. This isn't a typical recruitment. You'll be part of an elite team, working on critical missions that have far-reaching implications. It's a chance to contribute to something greater, to be a part of history."

Langley handed Archer a manila folder marked with a red [TOP SECRET] stamp. "Take this folder and discuss it with your parents. I know this is a big decision, and it's important that you have their support and understand the gravity of what we're asking."

In-flight to the Philippines	A few days later

Archer stared out of the airplane window, watching the clouds drift by. The decision hadn't been easy, and even now, he was filled with uncertainty. His parents had talked him into considering this, their happiness and pride palpable as they encouraged him. They believed it was a great opportunity, and seeing how proud they were had ultimately swayed him. He still had doubts, unsure of how useful he could really be, but the thought of making a difference and stepping out of his comfort zone had convinced him to take the leap. He was on his way to the Philippines, ready to join Task Force Obsidian and face whatever challenges lay ahead.

La Trinidad de Manila Academy	Present Day

Griffin was wide awake, staring at the ceiling of his dormitory room. The soft hum of the air conditioning unit and the faint glow of dawn seeping through the curtains were his only companions. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand – it was just past 5 AM, but his internal clock was still on London time, making it feel like 9 PM.

He hadn't been able to sleep all night, his mind racing with thoughts of the unknown. He slipped into his ACU trousers and a t-shirt, then reluctantly put on his jacket despite the humidity. He hated having his bracers on display and felt almost embarrassed by them. The jacket provided a sense of concealment, even if it made him uncomfortable in the heat.

Griffin quickly splashed some water on his face, hoping to shake off the last remnants of fatigue, and donned his hat to cover his messy hair. A knock echoed through the hallway, pulling Griffin from his thoughts. He opened the door to find Myron, their acting CO, standing there with his usual stern expression.

Griffin nodded and fell in line with the others. They moved through the quiet corridors of Trinidad Academy, the early morning light casting long shadows on the walls. As they neared the auditorium, he spotted Mikey jogging to catch up with the group.

Griffin glanced at her, his own uncertainty reflected in his eyes. "I have no idea," he admitted. "I just got here a few days ago. I guess we'll find out soon enough." He shared a brief, understanding look before continuing on their way.

Blood of the Crown (Medieval Fantasy, Royalty, Magic)

I could be very interested in this but I have a desire to be an old man wizard type that would accompany the Knight Commanders?

Noble Arms: The ASEAN War - Thread Three, the Darkest Hour

Archer "Griff" Griffin

	"GRIFF" "GRIFF" Name: Archer Griffin Faction: None Rank: - Nationality: British Age: 22 Sex: Male Height: 6'0" Weight: 180lbs (82kg Eyes: Sharp, piercing blue Physique: Lean, athletic, wiry Hair: Messy, ashy blonde Skin: Fair Colour: EFCC00

N O B L E A R M & A P P E A R A N C E :
N O B L E A R M & A P P E A R A N C E :

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Anchorbound Gauntlets - A pair of sleek, black bracers permanently attached to Archer's forearms. As he masters the bracers' abilities, they evolve into higher levels of armour, eventually covering his entire body. Although the bracers are always adorned, Archer can switch between the bracers and the other forms as a power-up.

N O B L E A R M R A N K :
N O B L E A R M R A N K :

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(B)

• Power: E (S)
• Speed: A
• Range: F
• Persistence: A (D)
• Precision: E
• Potential: E

N O B L E A R M T Y P E, E L E M E N T, & R A N G E :
N O B L E A R M T Y P E, E L E M E N T, & R A N G E :

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• Type: Melee/Support
• Element: Emotion/Energy
• Range: Close-range

N O B L E A R M A B I L I T I E S :
N O B L E A R M A B I L I T I E S :

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Stage 1 - Bracers:

• Enhanced Reflexes: Slightly increases Archer's reaction time and agility.
• Minor Strength Boost: Provides a small increase in physical strength.

Stage 2 - Gauntlets:

• Enhanced Reflexes: Significantly increases reaction time and agility.
• Minor Strength Boost: More noticeable increase in strength.
• Emotion boost: Surfaces all his raw emotion, his feelings become louder and harder to control.

Stage 3 - ArmGuards:

• Enhanced Reflexes: Quicker reaction times.
• Strength Augmentation: Further amplification of strength.
• Impact Echo: when he lands an attack, a second phantom blow reverberates through the opponent a heartbeat later.

Stage 4 - Lower Body shift:

• Lower armour: Griff can shift armour from armouring his upper half to his lower half, from waist down. Cannot armour both simultaneously.
• Unnatural Agility: Sacrificing upper body strength for speed, Griff can now accelerate, run, kick, and generally be faster in all aspects.
• Unnatural Stability: He can’t be knocked over or pushed back unless massively overpowered.
• Impact Echo: when he lands an attack, a second phantom blow reverberates through the opponent a heartbeat later.

Stage 5 - Full Body Armor:

• Complete set: Gains all abilities from earlier stages.
• Enhanced boosts: Strength gains and speed gains are higher in this stage.

Stage 6 - Bastard Sword:

• Attuned: The Sword is attuned to Griff, unable to be held or wielded by anyone but himself, even through nefarious means.
• Mastery of The Blade: Each swing carries the edge of intention. Slicing even between the atoms in the air resulting in ranged attacks from the sword. Able to gouge through rock and steel alike.

Permanent Attachment: The bracers are permanently attached to Archer's arms, providing a constant baseline boost to his physical abilities. Although the bracers are always adorned, Archer can switch between the bracers and the other forms as a power-up.

M I S C A B I L I T I E S :
M I S C A B I L I T I E S :

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• Parkour: Skilled in navigating urban landscapes.
• Martial Arts: Trained in Karate and Kendo.
• Music: Plays the guitar and enjoys American pop punk.

P E R S O N A L I T Y :
P E R S O N A L I T Y :

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Archer embodies a devil-may-care attitude with a laid-back and adventurous spirit. He’s charismatic, quick-witted, and enjoys being the life of the party. However, beneath his carefree facade lies a complex individual shaped by the dichotomy of British traditions and modern influences.

Archer is adept at navigating social situations, using his charm and wit to disarm tension and build connections with ease. His ability to blend traditional British values with a contemporary outlook grants him a unique perspective. Yet, this duality often leaves him grappling with an inner conflict. The strict discipline instilled by his military upbringing contrasts sharply with his yearning for freedom and self-expression.

Despite his relaxed demeanour, Archer is deeply introspective and sensitive to the world around him. He often contemplates the expectations placed upon him by his parents and society, striving to find a balance between honouring his heritage and forging his own path.

Archer's loyalty to his friends and allies is unwavering, and he is always willing to stand up for what he believes in, even if it means going against the grain. His adventurous spirit drives him to explore new horizons, pushing the boundaries of his abilities and discovering the true extent of his power.

In moments of solitude, Archer reflects on his journey, drawing strength from his experiences and using them as a guiding force in his quest for self-discovery. He finds solace in music, often playing his guitar to unwind and express his emotions. His love for adventure and thrill-seeking activities, such as parkour and martial arts, keeps him physically and mentally sharp.

L I K E S :
L I K E S :

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• Adventure
• Music (especially American pop punk)
• Martial arts

D I S L I K E S :
D I S L I K E S :

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• Strict rules
• Injustice
• Being underestimated

F E A R S :
F E A R S :

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• Losing control of his emotions and powers.
• Failing to find his own path distinct from his parents' military legacy.

B I O G R A P H Y :
B I O G R A P H Y :

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Archer Griffin was born and raised in London to a family with a storied military heritage. Both of his parents served in the British Army, which ingrained a sense of discipline and duty in Archer from a young age. Growing up in a bustling city, he found solace in physical activities, developing an early interest in martial arts and parkour.

Attending a local primary and secondary school in London, Archer quickly adapted to his environment, making friends and excelling academically. He embraced traditional British values and combined them with a passion for adventure and exploration. He took up martial arts, excelling in Karate, and also discovered a passion for parkour, using the urban landscape of London as his playground.

During his high school years, Archer continued to excel academically and athletically. He was an honor roll student, consistently achieving high grades in his coursework. His extracurricular activities included:

• Karate: Achieved a black belt and competed in regional tournaments, winning several medals.
• Parkour Club: Led the school parkour club, organizing events and training sessions.
• Music: Played electric guitar in the school band, performing at various school events and local venues.

Archer graduated from high school with a strong academic record and a well-rounded portfolio of accomplishments.

Between graduating from high school and starting university, Archer took a gap period to explore his interests and decide on his future path. One evening, after attending a local concert with a friend, they were walking home through a dimly lit alleyway. Suddenly, a group of thugs approached them, demanding their money. When the thugs grabbed his friend, Archer protested and tried to intervene. One of the thugs, wielding a metal pipe, swung at Archer's head. Instinctively, Archer raised his arm to defend himself, and in that critical moment, a pair of sleek, black bracers materialized on his forearms, absorbing the impact and protecting him from serious injury. The manifestation of his Noble Arm caused the thugs to panic and flee, leaving his friend thankful but the incident left Archer feeling ashamed and bewildered by the sudden and uncontrollable display of power.

Recognizing his potential as an Arms Master, Archer was recruited by Task Force Obsidian. Despite his sub-par Noble Arm, Archer's extensive training in martial arts, parkour, and his strategic mindset made him a valuable asset to the team.

C U R R E N T G O A L :
C U R R E N T G O A L :

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To find his own path and identity, distinct from his parents' legacy.

Noble Arms: The ASEAN War - Thread Three, the Darkest Hour

Hey all! Got my approval through PM so I'll post my CS now

Hello, I'm new to this

Welcome! I'm sure you'll fit in really well here on RPG. If you have any questions or need any assistance, let me know! What is it you are studying?

'Floating' (Star Wars 2 BBY)

As the UA breached the veil of hyperspace, the triumphant grin that had stretched across Jet's face faltered and dissolved, leaving behind a stark, sobering clarity. The pilots in those TIEs were merely doing what they had to do to survive—a reality that stung with a poignant truth. Jet could have taken their lives, but to what end? He lingered in this moment of contemplation, sifting through the fragments of his life, each piece a testament to battles fought and choices made. A slow, methodical sigh escaped his lips, akin to the hiss of an airlock, as he released his tumultuous thoughts, allowing them to drift away like so much space debris after a skirmish.

Descending the ladder, each metallic clang of his boots against the rungs reverberated through the hollow corridors, echoing the doubts and uncertainties that swirled within him. The sound seemed to pulse with the rhythm of his heart, each beat a reminder of the existential weight he bore. Upon reaching the deck, he moved towards the cockpit, his steps heavy and deliberate, as though each one carried the burden of his reflections. The corridor's dim lighting cast elongated shadows that danced mockingly, mirroring the inner turmoil he fought to contain.

As he neared the cockpit door, Jet paused, drawing in a deep, cleansing breath. The exhale was forced, a tangible effort to reclaim his composure and bury the introspection that threatened to unravel him. Stepping through the threshold, he donned his familiar facade, the mask of resolve and duty, even as the echoes of his doubts lingered, whispering through the vast emptiness of space.

As he attempted to step inside, Jet faltered once more, his gaze falling to the cold, unyielding steel floor. The weight of the facade he needed to uphold seemed almost insurmountable. He lingered for a moment longer, the silence amplifying his inner turmoil, before stepping back and resolving to retreat to his quarters. He decided he would face the others later, once he had composed himself.

Before heading back to his cramped quarters, Jet retrieved his rifle from where he had left it. Returning it to its designated resting place was more than just a habit; it was a meticulous ritual, a methodical way to reorder his mind and thoughts. Each action was deliberate, serving as a way to compartmentalize the chaos within, much like stowing away pieces of himself that he wasn't ready to confront.

Jet stood and walked over to the shelf. He picked up the picture and gently brushed his thumb over its surface, tracing the familiar contours. "Another job done, Rexa... Thanks for watchin' out for me," he murmured, his voice soft but steady, imbued with a quiet calmness. He placed the picture back on the shelf with a deliberate and purposeful exhale, a moment steeped in reflection and the bittersweet remembrance of a love lost.

As Jet returned the picture to its place on the shelf, a tidal wave of emotions surged within him, breaking through the dam of his carefully constructed facade. He clutched the edge of the shelf, knuckles turning white, as memories of Rexa flooded back with an overwhelming intensity. She had always been his anchor, the steady presence that assured him he was on the right path. With her by his side, every mission, every choice, had felt justified. Her unwavering belief in him had been his guiding star, illuminating even the darkest moments.

His breathing became ragged, and he felt a crushing weight on his chest, as though the very air had turned to lead. He sank to his knees, the cold steel floor biting through his fatigues, grounding him in the stark reality of his solitude. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he fought to suppress the sobs that threatened to escape. The relentless ache of loss, guilt, and loneliness gnawed at his insides, each pang a reminder of the battles he could never truly leave behind.

Without Rexa, doubt crept into every corner of his mind. He questioned the righteousness of his actions, the moral compass she had once kept aligned now spinning wildly. Jet buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the effort to hold back his emotions. But it was futile; a heart-wrenching sob tore through him, resonating through the otherwise silent quarters. The sound was raw, primal, an unfiltered outpouring of grief and pain that he had kept locked away for too long.

He stayed there for a while, letting the tears flow freely, each drop a release of the pent-up anguish that had been festering within him. As the storm of emotions began to subside, Jet felt a strange sense of catharsis. Though his heart still ached, there was a newfound clarity in the aftermath of his breakdown—a fragile understanding that he could not carry the weight of his past alone.

Rising to his feet, his legs trembling, Jet took one last look at Rexa's picture, the familiar features now blurred by his tears. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "For everything." With a renewed sense of resolve, he turned and made his way to the cockpit, each step a testament to his resilience and his determination to keep moving forward, even when the past threatened to pull him under.

Stepping into the cockpit where his comrades were waiting, Jet enforced a broad smile, his usual exuberant demeanor quickly taking over. With a light-hearted tone, he said, "So that was fun, huh?"

'Floating' (Star Wars 2 BBY)

It wasn’t long after the two returned to the ship that Jet noticed two black specks on the horizon. From his vantage point, he watched as they gradually grew in size. It became clear that the Basilisk had finally deployed TIE fighters. Jet’s heart rate quickened, each beat pounding in his ears.

“Not a moment too soon, Fel. I’ve got two coming up on us. I’d say it’s time we make tracks,” he barked into the commlink, his voice steady but urgent. He trained his aim towards the TIE which he assumed to be the closest. Firing at this range would be a fool’s errand, but being ready was the best thing to be done.

A single drop of perspiration perched upon his brow, nestled into the fine, greying hairs that crossed his weathered face. The muscles in his arms tensed, his grip tightening on the cannon’s controls. The hum of the ship’s engines reverberated through the hull, mingling with the distant, ominous drone of the approaching TIEs.

As the ship made its distance from the village, Jet took a deep breath, steadying his aim. The TIE fighters were almost within firing range now, following the UA as they made their ascent off world. He could see the faint glint of the sun off their solar panels, the menacing shape of their cockpits becoming clearer with every second.