Eisenhorn

Dragon Age: The Black Warden (closed)

Ansgar listened to the explanation that the Vashoth gave, as he stated that the Qunari of the lowlands would call the large man. Vashoth is not a term he had heard when he crossed paths with the followers of the Qun, but considering he did not identify with the Qun, preferring the tribes of the cold mountains, the Avvar, he suspected it was an exile of sorts, or perhaps one who had, while of the Qunari race, was born outside the Qun? He couldn't rightly tell either without asking, but he was in no position to be digging into another's personal business so readily. So, as Gereth finished speaking on the matter Ansgar inclined his head in gratitude for the plain answer to his question. There was something to be said for plain speech, it cut away the clutter and niceties of formal speech and gave a plain, unhindered view of what was said. Certainly a respectable way of presenting one self. "Then Gereth of the Avvar it shall be then, and no further into your personal business will I pry. You have my gratitude for the knowledge given."

"You tarry too long, there is killing to be done, enough with these niceties..."

The mental outburst from the daemons, unheard to the others, seemed to draw the gaze, slight as it may have been, of Ansgar to his left, like the irritated look of a custodian on the rude outburst of one under his lock and key. It would also likely send off a red flag for any of the mages present as to precisely where the fell, hungry fire that seemed to hang in the air originated from. Even the non mages could feel something off in the air, like something seeking to devour eternally was pressing on the air, likely an odd feeling to be felt, even on the precipice of a darkspawn Blight. Mages familiar with the spirits of the Fade might even identify that the feeling came from a Rage Demon's presence, though this would indeed explain the lack of wit and general deviousness in the creatures attempts to permanently subvert Ansgar. He forced the voices down again, harder than usual, the gloomy, dark expression on his face passing after a few moments, and he retained his silent vigil, watching over the tent to enact damage control on the demon's outburst, if need be.

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

Stukov listened to Sis lay out her commentary and statements on the technobabble nonsense that disabled psyker powers. She also commented on taking on a group of Sisters with only a shotgun and pistol, and slipped in a off hand remark before she continued. "Don't forget my knife and saber too, and there are worse odds." He let her finish, going on about some Ordos Hereticus inquisitor taking over once the retinue was done here on the planet, which didn't likely sit well for his odds of survival. After all, he was, by all accounts, an unsanctioned psyker that had no formal means of controlling or channeling his powers. That wouldn't likely sit well with this new Inquisitor, depending on her stance. Well, far as the other veterans from the Blackships told him while he served as fellow armsman. As she finished, he sighed, an odd sound through the bionic voice box, and responded, already tired and the day wasn't even mostly done.

"Sounds like a summary execution waiting to happen, is what this meeting sounds like. I'd bet they have the prior mission reports Boss forwarded, means they know full well about yours truly. Doubt this Inquisitor will like having an unsanctioned around. Best case scenario, get sent off for sanctioning in the Black Ships. At worst, a round through the skull. I'll lay out the truth as I see it, nothing more, nothing less. And self defense remains self defense, with or without these warp damned powers. I ain't going out of my way to piss off a bunch of bolter bitches in their own hovel." Stukov turned to walk up into the transport, to find his seat before the others, already having everything he needed for the, what he felt was inevitable, outbreak of violence that was likely to happen today. Whether it was overt or covert, he didn't know yet, but in the meantime, he would take the time he could to rest on the transport. It was going to be a long day, and it was still all above his paygrade, like this whole time with the Inquisition had been so far.

Fire Emblem Awakening: The Crusade

Jerod snarled at the warriors he had yet to cut down, the word of the champion Lad the only thing that snapped him out of his charging rage. His armor was smoking from the blast of lightning he had taken, breathing heavily until the healer had done her work again. Leave it to her to keep him up and running through the fight. Probably would have some choice words for him later, too, but he grinned out of the snarl, facing off still against the right flank, if the Champion went and did something stupid, he had no obligation to not promptly mount a rescue operation. After all, this Light lass would likely be tired out after a duel, nothing says he couldn't just cut her down then and there. No such thing as a fair fight, after all. The healer lass that had been healing them proposed a champion for the champion, and he barked out his own response. "Ah die on m' own terms, Lad, an' if ye' 're damn set on t'is damn fool course o' action, ah'll knock 'er down t' size. Ah owe 'er fer 'er shockin' rude bushwackin' attempt..."

Dark Souls: Sins of the Lords

I'm kind of inclined to agree with Rune here, don't get me wrong here, its a rather fascinating idea though.

But looking at how the Souls games (Demon souls included, hell, even Bloodborne to a degree, granted, bosses didn't give souls to forge weapons into, they did sometimes give badges or guard them, which sort of functioned like that) have handled boss souls and how the player interacts with them, currency form of souls (Blood Echoes) included, forming either weapons or spells independent of the character in question, it doesn't seem to be something an undead would develop into, more organically mimicking the powers of dead enemies, both strengths and weaknesses. Definitely strikes me as a one off sort of rarity, NPC or even optional Boss in that regards.

I have no interest in following that path, personally, but the idea could make an interesting one off oddity of sorts. Definitely not something to be running around in, in large numbers, far as my opinion goes at least.

Dragon Age: The Black Warden (closed)

... -slowly hides virgin sacrifices under the rug- nooothing

@Dragonbud

-Quietly sets fire to the rug- Oh my, look at that, such terrible times that rugs are so flammable, all on their own too.

Dragon Age: The Black Warden (closed)

Not too bad, glad to have gotten a post up finally, how about yourself?

Dragon Age: The Black Warden (closed)

Well I shall keep posting to create the opportunity for character interaction then, sure as sure. Can always hope for a triumphant return.

Dragon Age: The Black Warden (closed)

Ansgar stepped out of the way once he had made his introductions, and not in a less timely manner as others approached, including what looked like a Qunari. But, the old warrior reminded himself, the 'Wall of Grey Muscle' as the man was called, did not carry himself like a Qunari. Nor, as far as he had encountered, would one have so readily thrown his lot in with such a group. Ansgar had trouble remembering the term for them, he was not very fluent in the language used by those following the Qun, though he had encountered their ilk before. They didn't respond well to what he was, so he oft made it a point to not tarry overlong in lands populated by Qunari and such followers of the Qun. Didn't appeal to him, anyways, even if he considered it from before his corruption. But the giant named himself as Gereth, and seemed to leave it at that, not preferring big guy. Some folk did not take kindly to nicknames, Ansgar could see the why, so he would merely keep the name in memory should he need to converse with the not Qunari. No, he was tired of thinking not Qunari, so he spoke quietly, voice carrying volume enough to be heard however, the cold chill that Talon felt in his bones only grew harsher when Ansgar spoke, giving him a subtle indication of the source of the gnawing, insistent hunger. "Gereth, I do have a simple question, if you would humor an old warriors curiosity. I recognize you do not follow the Qun, they would not subject themselves to this of their own will, alone, but I have not heard of what one of those outside the Qun would refer to themselves as. Would you be willing to enlighten me upon this matter?"

Ansgar spoke politely, as he would to any fellow warrior, not concerned with the difference in species. After all, get into a fight with the darkspawn, they hardly care what race you are, killing is killing. But as he awaited the man's response, the daemonic whispering in his head grew insistent, they cared not for this waiting, and were convinced that they would be found out before it was opportunistic to reveal his nature. Mainly, they wanted to start fighting again, so close to a, at casual observation, army to dwarf that faced at Ostagar so many years ago. They knew his memories of the matter, and had lusted at the chance of having another fight like it. He drowned out their voices with his own thoughts on those present so far. Gereth, he had addressed, and left at that. The dwarves seemed to not overly care for each other, the female dwarf was an indication of this at any rate, while the wall flower seemed unhappy with the fast talking rogue's proposition to stand up front and center. Another elf decided to go talk to the two, and the daemons whispered that he knew something was wrong. Ansgar ignored them, outside of a fight, they merely sought to create conflict to revel in.

Despite the rather rag tag, disorganized look the group had, Ansgar was confident in the well rounded appearance it had, if equipment was anything to go by. Mages, plenty of warriors, at least one archer, for a task force meant to vanguard the main Southern Army, it seemed like it could prove rather effective. Assuming they were all competent enough to stand against the worst the Darkspawn could throw at them, this apparent Black Warden included, something that left him rather uncomfortable. The rumors that wherever he arrived, the defenses were smashed and torn asunder in a single night, something rang too close to home for him, as it sounded like another being corrupted, only falling to another side of things. He was not looking forward to the idea of facing such a being, but the daemons, of course, relished the thought of a real fight instead of slaughtering more peons, as they saw the world. But the aura of insistent, gnawing hunger remained, something that Apostates that tried to help him in the past described as unpleasant at best, and he sadly could do little to suppress. He had no gift with magic, nor could he readily focus on such things in a fight with his condition even if he did, so it was something they would have to tolerate or comment on. Perhaps they might have something to help him, when the time came for a fight. He would ask of either of them later, the Magister especially might have some knowledge on the matter, known for blood magic as they were. Certainly something to keep in mind...

Dark Souls: Sins of the Lords

Ansgar Staudinger

Name: Ansgar Staudinger

Age: 30

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Standing at just over 6'1", Ansgar plays well to his already naturally long reach, having a fairly lean and thin build. Wiry muscles make up his strength beneath his attire, which is fairly light and indicative to an evasive stance over a sturdy, taking blows head on one. His garb does not indicate a formal army standing, at least by most standards, but it was the standard for men of his guard unit, so he continues to wear it proudly.

Weapon: Currently uses a humble halberd, well worn from use as a guard before serving as a soldier in his kingdom's army, led in an attempt to link the fire of his realm and stave off the darkness, and undead, and the style he wields it in lends itself well to other styles of polearms. He favors the weapon but, when pressed, does carry a dirk for handling opponents he can't in close quarters, due to the size of the polearm and the problem it creates in confined spaces.

Armor:
Ansgar's armor doesn't cover any joints, and it is meant to provide lightweight protection to what was considered critical areas in his time. Each piece is made out of sturdy black iron, trimmed down from true black steel, although it still imparts the resistance to flames, or perhaps they became that way during his time fighting, one could not readily say. But, beyond the greaves, gauntlets and shoulder pads, one hidden under his tattered cloak, he relies on mobility over sheer, raw armor.

Curse: Unkindled

A Brief Tale:
Ansgar was from a kingdom centrally located in his time, focused on commerce and lacked any single, massive capital, instead being split up into many smaller fiefdoms. Each fiefdom maintained its own guards, and Ansgar remembers having served the one that tended to lead the kingdom, before an outbreak of undead conincided with an upsurge of demons assaulting from the north. Ansgar was part of a grand army sent to stop the demons, and the last thing he remembers, fighting alongside undead and human alike, was a blistering heat unlike what the demons could muster. Ansgar knows he died that day, and yet, the tolling of bells is not something readily resisted.

Dark Souls: Sins of the Lords

I managed to beat DS3 a few days ago, was definately worth my time. Onto NG+, and other characters to boot.

And much obliged Dark, moved on over to the Character tab.