Eisenhorn — Roleplayer Guild

Alright, got him banged out, thought I'd take an approach to give an outlook from another part of things. Feel free to pick him apart as needed.

Theme: youtube.com/watch?v=DNmIqqcUS3U
Ansgar Staudinger




"I fight for no man but myself now. Not a king, not a god, no one. Never again shall I be slave for the entertainment of others, let them come and try to tell me otherwise."


Name:
Ansgar Staudinger

Age: 
80

Blood%: 
40% - Dragon
40% - Tyro
20% - Oro

Gender: Male 

Sex Preference: Hetero

Height:
6'1"

Weight:
220lbs unarmored

Physical appearance: 
Perhaps due to the intermingling of equal parts Tyro and Draconic blood, Ansgar's scales take on a fire red hue, matching the harshness of the off yellowish red eyes, though the left half of his face has scars from the time he was forced to remain within the arena. Standing bipedal still, he favors a more normal attire over revelling overtly in his draconic lineage, and his attire shows this. Wearing a wide brimmed conical hat to help conceal his face, though the wings give him away anyways, he wears a rather stiff looking uniform. The dull blue attire was taken from the Fotian mistress' slave driver after he killed him in his escape effort, the wraps covering scars from the irons used to restrain him. Other than the gold colored accents, the attire holds no actual purpose. Well worn, white trousers and boots finish his attire, covering him from neck to toe in material, all minimizing his exposure.

Personality: 
Ansgar is not the man he once was, having tempered the rage and fury of his slave fighting days. These days, he often prefers the taverns and seedier dives on the outskirts of kingdoms, such out of the way places often not attracting as much attention. He prefers the quiet relaxation a good tavern can provide, relaxing and keeping his name and reputation unheard. He is not a braggart, despite having good cause to brag, and does attempt to avoid a fight. But, should violence prove necessary, one can catch a glimpse of the passionate fury of old. He fights with no sense of honor or respect, taking any and all advantages in a fight to claim victory, regardless of how much any companions might frown upon it. Ganging up on an enemy, putting a dagger into their back when they turn away, gunning a man down as he runs, so long as it ends the conflict, he will see it done, and will gladly explain the why to those that might turn their nose up at such actions or dare raise a hand to reprimand.

Faction: 
None

Exp:
Born into slavery, Ansgar was sold to the arena as the sight of his draconic blood, in Fotia no less, meant he would be ill received elsewhere. Trained by the task masters and other slave fighters from as young as he could hold his oversized sword, he was drilled and beaten and violated on more than one occasion for disobedience, subpar performance, or sheer whim. He developed not only sheer physical toughness and strength, but mental as well, refusing to break despite the abusive nature of his 'profession'. Having developed the physical and mental strength and durability to make it as a slave fighter, he had to prove it. Over twenty years in the arena, from the young age of sixteen, fighting, bleeding, and barely making survival happen at the cost of others. Despite his long running success, the Dragon blood marked him and prevented fame to come, forcing him to learn how to escape, and apply it. After raising the Arena and fleeing Fotia, he would wander, learning to survive in the wilds of most lands and maintain his equipment, doing odd jobs and mercenary work wherever he could. A graduate from the school of hard knocks, indeed, but he carries himself well despite it.

Pet: 
N/A

Spells: 
Fury of the Scorned - Ansgar only knows one spell, if it could be called that, and it was the only thing that kept him alive long enough to escape slavery. Taking the inner fire of his blood, from the Tyro and Dragon portions, he manifests the flames as a cloak that surrounds his form. Besides the obvious danger this poses to anyone close by or to anything flammable, the aptly named Fury unleashes the last 80 years of simmering rage, pushing him to the very limits of what he is capable of physically. Moving faster, moving greater loads, processing information faster, he forces his body into a state of overdrive. The more danger he is in, the more potent the effects. However, the aftermath when he releases the spell is potent, leaving him heavily drained and exhausted, taking a few days at least before he could even consider doing it again.

Abilities/Powers: 
- Heat Detection
- Heat Resistance
- Fire Breath
- Resistance to Bleeding
- Dense, metallic Horns
- Binocular Vision
- Potent Sense of Smell
- Scales highly resistant to both Heat and Cold, stacking onto his natural resistance to heat.
- Wings, claws and strength fitting a Dragon blooded of his size
- Mastery of his Sword

Weapons: 
Unnamed Blade - A weapon that Ansgar has had for as long as he can remember, it was the weapon given to him to fight in the arena for the glory and profit of his owner. A rigid, straight blade with only one edge sharpened, the weapon has no ornamentation or fancifulness in design, being forged solely as a war sword. Large for your average Descendant, the blade itself is just over four feet in length, with ten inch  hilt and lacking any sort of guard at all, it would not likely be found or even liked by most conventional soldiers or enforcers. However, with training and experience, Ansgar has not only proven it to be viable, but even surpassing other warriors when blades are crossed. 

History: 
Born a Slave, Ansgar was thrown into the Arenas of his homeland of Fortia, expecting to be dead by his early thirties, and that was being generous. Yet, survive the dragon blooded would, spite and anger carrying him when tactics and reason failed. Even those that tried to bleed him dry on the arena floor found his blood thicker than expected, enough of the Oro blood keeping him from bleeding easily enough for the arena fighters. Always forced to fight without armor, he would accumulate many scars where the scales failed to cover, or failed to protect at times. Yet, in time, he would find an opening after a particuraly nasty fight in the arena, killing the handler assigned to him by his mistress and owner, and escaping in the confusion as he used the fire breath of his lineage to melt the locks of those not confined in cells designed to resist such things. The ensuing revolt would be readily put down, of course, but the instigator was gone, and the man who was to control and watch him, stripped of useful possessions and mutilated. A simple message carved into his chest, something that Ansgar would live by during his wandering, regardless of the happenings of the world. Also serving as a gauntlet thrown to his owner, a dare that she come after him carved into the flesh of her confidant in controlling him.
"Unbound and Free"

Ansgar has a rather intense fascination with all things technological, any chance he can get to get his hands on such things, he often spends much of his free time tinkering and manipulating the devices in question, to learn their inner workings. He would go to great lengths to get his hands on an Advanced Apparatus of any sort.
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