Fetzen

The Five Senses

Sounds very reasonable for the cult. However wouldn't that most likely change his allegiance? Or at least cause some rather massive damage? Or would he be able to find an escape route somehow?

Feel free to PM me if you don't want to spoil things!

The Five Senses

@Pezz570 I think I still owe you an answer with regard to your question why the clan member has been grinning all the time. Well, it originally wasn't in my mind, but I really like the idea of the dagger having been poisoned somehow. So if you'd like to see Týfurkh slowly being flattened by that poison (and ultimately maybe even being abducted ?) I'd be completely open to arranging something :)

The Five Senses

Týfurkh

As Týfurkh continued choking the other man first his hand, then his entire arm started shaking. He could slowly feel his entire circulatory system struggle as blood continued to pour out of the wound in not so insignificant amounts. Maybe trying to get rid of this guy in this manner was no longer the action he could afford. And that damn person continued grinning as if, as if...

He let go of his victim's throat in hardly any more than an instant when something hit him from behind. Blood, small and ripped apart bits of skin and quite a few of his long hairs were ejected from the impact site close to Týfurkh's neck when Tayla's attack reached its destination. At first the giant was entirely confused about what was going on, his mind had been catapulted from the back of his skull and smashed into the front of it. The other cult member could see the opportunity and made a run for it, into the weakening cloud and off the roof.

With an innocent sounding chink the coins landed on the ground. The airflow around them had cleaned all the dirt of them, making them shine as if new. Sadly though it appeared as if Tayle had chosen only small ones, not nearly worth being picked up and used for things like paying a medicus to look at the wound sustained, for example. So Týfurkh's gloved hand had to do for a small inspection. As he gently pushed them onto the warm and painful spot and subsequently let them return into his view, another spill of blood could be seen. Not much, but in addition to the wound already sustained there was no reason not to worry. And who knew how big that vicious woman's coin pouch actually was ?

Speaking of her... where had she gone ? He had to try and catch up to the others before getting lost. Before that however he reloaded his crossbow and gently put his fingers onto the new bolt. An aggressive, high-pitched tone could be heard and it continued to stay even after Týfurkh removed his hand. He wanted to make sure that the next bolt, whatever or whomever it would hit, would deal a lot more damage than usual. Then he started running the best he could, trying to follow the others.

World of Telduria [Reboot]

Vathalar

V A T H A L A R

// T I T L E S

None so far.

// A G E

Vathalar is 28 years old.

// S P E C I E S

Werebeast amalgam comprised of wolf and satyr, but still retains some humanity.

// T R A I N I N G

Vathalar has received training in utilizing his sole magical talent, but aside from this there's not much to go on in terms of 'formal' training. In other words: Him handling a sword could be considered an insult for any master of the art, for example. However he knows quite well how to survive on one's own even in very rough environments.

// I T E M S C A R R I E D

• Simple clothing in the form of a thick linen shirt and trousers. Above that he posesses a hooded cape for colder and wetter days and a pair of light leather boots.
• Food and water for two days (as a human).
• A few coins. Enough to buy some more food or rent a chamber for some nights, but not more.
• A stolen riding horse. It's quite useless for him in his beast form, but makes traveling as a human a lot easier.

// M A G I C S P E L L S

Telepathy
- 'I have arranged a meeting with our most important agents. I feel that with this boy we have a very valuable asset in our hands: Just imagine all those dreadfully inefficient torture sessions being replaced by this pure elegance!' -

Without any prior knowledge about the person Vathalar wants to contact, the average individual's mind is a pretty well guarded and safe place against this ability. Even if an attempt to tap into another mind succeeds, the information obtained by Vathalar can be considered garbage for the major part. One can say that only lesser beings such as animals (dogs, horses, ...) really struggle to defend against this basic form of telepathic intrusions.

However even the most strong-willed and intelligent individual can miss one of those if the right circumstances are present. Just as your general attention suffers if you're drunk or just too busy with something else, defending against the telepathy gets more difficult and the success rate drops. It's at this point where the danger lies: Each successful intrusion yields him insight into another mind's inner workings. As his knowledge about a certain individual grows he can produce harder to fend off attacks which yield a clearer picture. In the most extreme form he can gain arbitrary access to currently ongoing thoughts and sensory impressions. Directly querying one's memory is a different task though and mind control is out of the question. It is possible for him though to influence moods and thoughts, to try and lure his victim into the direction he wants it to go.

The knowledge acquired about a certain individual behaves no different than any other memory: If it has lost its relevance for too long he will most likely forget about it and have to restart the learning curve from anew. Also it's not like he could be much of a multitasker while being telepathcially active, but he can do so both in his human and his monstrous body.

// O T H E R S K I L L S

The living blood
- 'Normally blood dripping from an injured animal stays on the branches and leaves it touches and doesn't... eat them ? Look at all those small craters!' -

The vast majority of individuals shares a common understanding of blood: As long as it is flowing within the confines of their body everything's fine, the moment an injury occurs it serves as a fast-acting, makeshift sealant. This is also pretty much how Vathalar's blood behaves, but his now anomalous nature produces additional, more strange properties:

Towards himself it is an efficient healing agent, capable of dealing with infections as well as performing reconstruction work. This, given enough time, resources and rest, can include the regrowth of limbs and restoring organs (if the dysfunctionality has not been lethal up to that point).

Towards his environment however it behaves very differently: Most organic compounds which are not his own will be identified by his blood as foreign contaminant and treated as such. While it is technically not an acid-like reaction it has a similar effect. Now normally his blood is safely contained inside his body, but there's no bloody fight without the occasional spill here and there. It might be wise to watch one's steps and not allow too much of it to come into contact with one's boots or non-metal parts of armor. Of course direct skin contact is the worst thing that can happen, immediately causing pain and injury if not washed off quickly.


Cured from humanism
- 'More arrows to the knee, quick!' -

Monstrous form

_{(image not to scale)}

Vathalar's human body is a very far cry from being impressive, but due to the outcome of the experiment he has voluntarily subjected himself to it only makes up the smaller part of his entire being. In other words the werebeast inside him is of unusually pure blood, causing it to be much more impressive than it's more average cousins.

The outcome of this is that Vathalar, once transforming, turns into a beast that takes the usual growth in terms of size and muscle to a rather extreme. He becomes far less evasive and agile than he is as a human and also a lot louder, but his strength and resilience increase very dramatically. His monstrous form requires far more food and water, but on the other hand it also doesn't have much of a problem with hunting for much larger game -- including humans and other species, even though he doesn't like it. But just in case his enormously large and sharp teeth are also excellent can openers, so it's unwise to think that the average steel breastplate would make yourself unchewable. Aside from this there are also sharp claws at hands and feet to grab things and impale them if necessary.

His monstrous form is best suited for plain and somewhat chaotic mass demolition. A group of heavily armed and armored, sluggish soldiers is a feast waiting to happen. A single, fast-moving and agile fighter however can cause very serious trouble.

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

Vathalar is rather introvert and careful when it comes to foreign people, but once his knowledge about that person has improved a little that can quickly change. Also, due to his past, he has learned quite well how to act as a jovial, very talkative person from the beginning if he has an interest in getting to know a certain individual on his own. He's quite intelligent and not that afraid of, well, getting close to the borders of what is legal and what not as long as it serves his purpose. However he strictly refuses to commit himself to anything really nasty. As far as his werebeast is concerned: He tries to hide that as good as he can for he is perfectly aware of the consequences. So it's not usual for him to go missing here and there for a while, only to return seemingly out of nowhere later on.

// A F F I L I A T I O N

None.

// H I S T O R Y

Vathalar was born in Barnak, a small village in Eamonvale which is located close to the kingdom's south-eastern border. Embedded in a wide string of hilly land, the settlement clearly profits from its vicinity to the fertile Kingdom of Vesh. Thus it comes as no surprise that he was born into a family of peasants. For the major part of his childhood and youth there did not occur any notable events whatsoever and Vathalar was allowed to live a farmer's life with rather little education, but a lot of physical work.

However it is a known matter of fact that Eamonvale as a whole has a troubled history. Effectively it is a nation of separatists still in a constant struggle with those they separated from. The cruel methods of the King Of Crows still are very present in its inhabitants' minds and the war with Nyrae only serves as a constant reminder. There are important and influential people inside Eamonvale who are sufficiently afraid of old times in order to strive for unconventional methods when it comes to the defense of their kingdom.

One day a small group of royal knights along with two of the court's mages entered Barnak and set up camp in the local tavern. They were seekers, recruiters of the armed forces who were not searching for your average able-bodied male but for people with special talents instead. The men and women called in the entire younger half of the village's population for individual inspection. For the vast majority the procedure was over soon-ish, but Vathalar's scrutiny took a lot longer...

It was at this point that his intrinsic talent for magical access to foreign minds was discovered, something he had been completely unaware of. In spite of all the training that would be required in order to pull it out of its dormant state, it was decided that the king would definitely have use for him. This meant that he'd be separated from his parents and familiar environment with immediate effect, but while it came in as a shock for his family he himself wasn't quite as disturbed by this news. He'd finally start to see some other parts of the world and if everything went well his post would be comparably comfortable since he wouldn't have to go to the frontline.

Actually, about two years later, Vathalar found himself behind the frontline in Nyrae. His task: Obtain information about hostile activities and report back. He had been given another identity, introduced to the enemy's society and settled in one of their villages as an innocent looking newcomer. The fact that he had been a humble peasant in his previous life had made him perfect for the job as he was completely unknown.

Things went well for over a year, but then came the night when things went wrong. It had been one of those usual evenings: Vathalar had gotten hold of someone who he believed could hold vital information. The usual routine had been to try and get into contact with the man, build up some kind of relationship strong enough for an innocent looking invitation into his own, humble housing at the edge of his new village -- and get the guy sloshed until his mind was weak and would virtually reveal everything as long as one could filter out all the mental trash caused by the beverages and ask the right questions. What Vathalar didn't know, what apparently his victim's friends also didn't know, was that the man was relatively new lycantrope. Too bad it was a full moon's night...

He could feel the sudden urge of violence and fury in the other man, but it was a tad too late. Vathalar managed to escape, ride away on his horse, but he had been bitten. He knew that the man probably wouldn't remember him anyway, but the curse would start to take hold of him from the next full moon's night onwards. Returning to Eamonvale was pretty much pointless as he'd be hunted there for his... change of kind... in the same manner he'd be hunted for it in Nyrae. He'd turn once a month for a night while staying normal for the remainder of the time, so continuing with the operation at another place was as good as falling into despair.

Things seemed to work out, but Vathalar was very well aware that his job had just become significantly more dangerous. Also the constant pressure to hide his other self and the constant fear that he could once fail doing so did have its impact onto his psyche. Everybody knew that there was no cure for lycantropy except death, or was there ?

Now there is a nation where the principle of taking nothing for granted is thriving a lot more ferociously than anywhere else: Ithell. Unlike being a werebeast, trying to develop a cure for the curse is actually not that despicable. Via his 'job' of extracing information, Vathalar learned about a researcher named Jacob Utryin who was actually working on a method but had been unsuccessful so far. Anyway, as he could feel his psyche crumbling, Vathalar decided that it was worth a try.

He left Nyria, spent nearly all of the funds available to him on getting to Ithell and, several months later, stood on the very doorstep he had been searching for. Of course the man had not openly announced that he was searching for a test subject, but Vathalar's gamble that he'd secretly accept offerings in order to continue his research turned out to work. He was let in and, after prolonged discussion, both sides agreed that Vathalar would be the guinea pig. A failure couldn't make things worse, could it ? At least his predecessor had come out alive -- however, in fact, nothing had happened with that one at all, except for a lot of added frustration and distrust.

To say that Jacob had boosted the aggressiveness of his method in the meantime would have been quite a bit of an understatement. Once he had fired up the weird looking magical apparatus Vathalar had no true idea of, opened his telescope and pointed it at the correct patch of sky it was as if Jacob was trying to utilize the destructive power of the Red Anomaly itself to separate and destroy the wolf part.

Now there was an effect, and one could say that it actually wasn't that much off from what the designer of this contraption had had in his theoretic mind, but there was a small issue: It wasn't the beast part that was cleanly ripped out and annihilated from Vathalar's being, but instead his human aspect was destroyed for the major part within seconds while the wolf part was crippled, but still somewhat alive. With hardly any human aspect left immediate transformation was triggered. The wolf part, in pain and sensing the danger of death, went on a rampage. Hearts needed to be eaten in order to try and restore power.

The first thing Vathalar happened to get his teeth into was Jacob's assistant, a Satyr coming from the Dominion of Kelnore. Then it was Jacob's own turn, who was an ordinary human. The wolf inside Vathalar incorporated the power consumed much more deeply inside itself than usual in order to repair the damage dealt. In fact it, the Satyr, Jacob's humanism and what had remained of his own humanity merged into what could be considered a new species.

Vathalar's memory of that night has been erased in the process. All he has are fragments that he can't truly put together again. He's now rather a werebeast cured from humanism instead of a human cured from the werebeast. The monster is the dominating part, but only physically so. He still is in full posession of his intelligence, way of thinking and transforming. However the process has turned a little... unstable. The urge to turn beast can occur at seemingly random points in time and resisting them long enough in order to get away can be hard.

Things have happened a mere several months ago, so he's still struggling to deal with his new self which he partially can't explain. So far he has not decided if he should try and return to Eamonvale, but he's currently stuck in Kron-Nensis anyway.

The Five Senses

I've recovered to the point at which I can pick up roleplaying again and am working on the things that have queued up :)

The Five Senses

I'll try to post today or tomorrow, but unfortunately there's no guarantee since I'm still fever-ish and in bed.

World of Telduria [Reboot]

Finally got a good idea. I'll try to get up my application tomorrow :)

World of Telduria [Reboot]

Hello!

A fellow roleplayer and I are considering joining this -- or basically we've already made our dicision and are working out things.

So I'd like to ask politely how the term 'Monster With ability to transform' is to be interpreted. Am I correct with the assumption that the transformation has to be from/to an ordinary human form in order to distinguish them from the non-player monsters ? And what other restrictions are there with regard to the monster-part that aren't already covered by the other rules of this RP and common roleplayer's sense, if any ?

The Five Senses

Týfurkh

Týfurkh could see trouble crawling up upon them. The term was only metaphorical though -- in reality those hostile individuals came at them much faster and much easier than he had hoped for. Their enemies, whoever they truly were, must have been watching them all the time. Frankly he hated to jump to into action that fast, usually he preferred to shout at hostiles first in order to give them -- and himself -- the chance to save lifes and health mutually. The expression on the faces of those individuals however made Týfurkh think otherwise. If he wouldn't act quickly it probably would be him ending up disabled or dead.

The rooftile was shattered by the impact of the steel-shod crossbow as Týfurkh slammed its front onto the ground below. Reloading with one's foot was the most efficient way to do it, so the next bolt was ready well before any of the Clan's members could reach his position. It didn't look as if everyone of them actually had this intention though: In fact, one of them was... flying... well past him. For a moment Týfurkh couldn't resist the temptation to aim for Syella, but soon realized it would be a shot too quick and too far away. By the time he returned his view towards the others, they had fanned out. Two were left approaching him, male and female. Which one to pick first ?

With no better knowledge available, he targeted the woman. She had happened to be closer to his current aim than her partner. A brief, but intense hissing sound, then the latter lost the former out of view. She tumbled, something sticking out of her back that definitely should not be there normally. Her mind had probably shut down already by the time she collapsed, falling into small but growing patches of her own blood. The male didn't look behind, but he must have seen the bolt leaving Týfurkh's weapon.

His face turned from enthusiasm for battle to fury. As Týfurkh tried to reload in time for another shot, the cult member made movements with his hands as if he wanted to throw something at him. His hands obviously were empty, but still something happened a few feet into the imaginary trajectory. The air started to become cloudy, to fill up with something that looked like dense steam or mist, but with another color that was virtually crying out loudly that it was ugly. Týfurkh only became aware of this moments later as he was busy, but by the time he finally did these traces were already very close to touchdown. They appeared to be comprised of nothing more but some kind of gas indeed as there was no noise, but the circular plumes that started to spread from their impact sites were quite impressive.

Týfurkh was engulfed by the wavefront and started coughing. To his eyes it felt like cutting onions -- just a lot worse. He tried to take aim now that the bolt was ready, but only saw a pair of nebulous double images. The clan member had drawn a dagger, but luckily Týfurkh's armor managed to stop it. The clan member probably barely weighed one third as much as he did, so the impact had left the man out of balance for the moment. Still there was the urgent need to get out of this... cloud... or whatever it was... immediately before he'd be hit at the right spot the next time.

Týfurkh took a large leap and subsequent run to escape the obnoxious gas cloud, but his eyes had broken out in tears and there was probably nothing that would stop his enemy from creating another plume of that stuff or something even a lot more poisonous. Given how much space each of these clouds consumed it wouldn't take long for him to run out of roof area to stay on. What kind of magic was this guy using ? Smelling ? Must have taken an antidote against his own creation!

However no further clouds were thrown at him. Unbeknownst to Týfurkh his enemy was far from finishing his training, an important fact that explained why he wasn't yet able to invoke much more deadly concoctions. Throwing more of the purple gas would only help drive this giant off the roof and out of his reach and aside from this the effect on his eyes would last for minutes: No more danger from that crossbow! But from Týfurkh's hands... As the clan member came in for his second attack, Týfurkh managed to grab him. He couldn't escape from that much strength and started panicking with his dagger. A few banging sounds later as the blade hit the armor again and again and there was a different noise. Soft and painful. Týfurkh bared his teeth as he was trying not to cry out loudly while continuing to choke his enemy, almost lifting him off the ground. He could feel his blood starting to seep out from underneath his armor that had been circumvented by the last hit. Was there a smirk on the clan member's face ? Hopefully not for long! But that wound would have to be dealt with better sooner than later...

The Five Senses

Thanks for the summary. I will get a reply up within the next 24 hours.