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Do we have some sort of time-to-move calculation? I'm assuming we don't and that we're just feeling our way through what seems like a natural timeflow with occasional clarifications from you.

I'm wondering if Lans asked for too much in too little time or how he'll know when to do things like meditate or train.
Lans did not, in fact, have much knowledge of his blood. He had always considered himself a human by most measures and only Orc by physical prowess. Compared to his Human classmates, he never needed to exert himself too hard to outdo the best among them. But now, as he had so rarely experienced, he noted the distinct difference between him and the Hosts of Tusks. Tougher, larger, and brimming with vigor and might, the Orcs began to test his skills as a Terror Knight. He felt both an intense urge to prove that his speed and technique could overcome any of their brutish brawling as well as an utter craving to beg them to endow him with their blessings and training. He was entrapped in his own identity.

"My Lord... ah... Councillor Graft... Blood of Sarm," Lans ventured forth with trepidation, "I am Lans of Castle Hannery, West of Men. I am known among the warriors of men as Lans the Ghukzoul... a term thrust upon me for many reasons."

Lans took a short bow and immediately regretted it.

"I have three requests to plead: Firstmost, I would request any and all support for finding my father Lord Hannery. Any details on his whereabouts or aids to find him would be dear to me; secondmost, in whatever capacity is possible, I beseech you for aid in the Rite. I was advised by a shaman that I should undergo the harshest trial you may muster as I am far beyond the age; thirdmost, I request training with your best warriors to test my skills and to learn from my blood."

Lans half stifled a breath of relief but then decided that since he had gone so far...

"My Lord. I am sure it is obvious that I am no Orc. Nor do my mannerisms agree with Orc culture. And with all that has happened, I seek counsel from your wisest. I no longer know who I am. As a fourth request, I seek wisdom from the Hosts of Tusks."

Lans dropped to his knees and hoped.
Lans had been deeply shaken by the events that transpired. And even as his newfound safety net of being around the other chosen was slowly separating from him, he only had the thought of what all this meant. He always dreamed of making a difference... of rising to the highest ranks of the Corps and earning the right to carry on the Hannery name. But this was much more than he ever dreamed.

And now he not only had a chance to find his father as well as redeem himself for his rage kills, he seemed to have been granted a chance at reaching immortality... the stuff of dreams of every boy at the Academy.

But he shuddered at the thought of facing each city and attempting to liberate each one. He had not thought himself fit to even control himself anymore.

And with that thought, Lans turns to his escort and asks if he could meet with the Orc Councilor. He has some spiritual inquiries to pursue.
Sorry for the long delay... school just started again.

Sending replies now.
With every ebb, the statues' glow seems to urge Lans' fury to rise, tugging at his chest, drawing out occasional grunts. He keeps his head down and closes his eyes to avoid any provocation. His temper has gotten worse of late and he wonders if being free of the dungeon will help in this regard?

He glances around. He's seen his peers before as they were brought into the dungeon. "Strange," he muses, "We were all accosted at the same time and appear to manifest the same rare condition." But his imagination suddenly goes wild and his chest heaves for an instant before closing his eyes.

No good. His temper is rising. His eyes force open, as if to release the pressure building. He starts breathing harder, as if the increased breaths will help his efforts to subdue the rising tide. His hands ball up into fists. His vision starts going into a distance.

And then it all stopped.

Lans, relieved and surprised, focuses his vision to see what changed him so quickly. He just sees his comrades and his mind races... were they truly chosen? Did curses relieve each other somehow? He begins to have hope again... something he did not think he would feel in a long time. Perhaps there is a way out of this spiral into purgatory? And although he never really truly believed like the devout shamans did, Lans finds that his faith is suddenly brimming and overflowing.

However, he had no words for the Council. His upbringing taught him not to speak during such times. It was unbecoming.
Lans the Ghukzoul



Name:
Lans the Ghukzoul (orcish: terror, contextually a praise and often connotated with courage and strength)

Age: 41
Race: Orc
HP: ❇❇❇
SP: ❇❇
Job: Terror Knight lvl 5 (knights purposed for lowering morale and efficiently...and almost theatrically brutally... killing their enemies)
Magical Affinity: Metal lvl 2
Curse: Curse of Kraxiel lvl 1

Appearance
Typical of Orcs, Lans is 6’5’’, well built, and green-skinned. His thick hair resembles more the wool of sheep than the threads of weaving.

However, Lans stands straighter and more posed than most Orcs. His braided hair and well-kept armor defy preconceived notions of Orcish brutality and barbarism. His tusks appear to be filed down but with the precision of a woodcarver rather than the typical jagged wear from harsh bites from days past.

And, certainly unlike other Orcs, he is almost never seen without his upper garments on. But if you were to see him so, you would notice the tattoos that go down his back along his spine… and if you’re lucky, you could make them out as some runes.

Lans’ posture gives off the distinct feeling that he is challenging you… that he has something to prove. But his experience in physical combat also manifests in his composure and tends to keep him free of brawls and minor altercations. Perhaps due to this, he seems to lack the scars normally found all over the tough hide of Orc warriors. And considering his age, he should be littered with dozens.

Personality
Often described as a gentleman, Lans demonstrates the best of aristocratic etiquette and mannerisms. As such, he is neither too forward nor too timid. He is courteous, kind, and listens intently to any and all conversation.

But those who know him well, know that this is just his upbringing. In a more private setting, his coarser language and fondness for crude jokes would reassure all that he is, in fact, an Orc. His appetite for direct dialogue and getting to the reason for every interaction would put off most dignitaries and guests.

And his appetite does not end there. Truly, if he were the incarnate of any sin, it would be Indulgence. Ever a champion of feasts, Lans would always enjoy the richest and most seasoned foods and drinks. Similarly, his appetite in games and entertainment reach decadent levels… within the limits of good taste, of course.

This intensity is also reinforced by his horrific temper. And perhaps it is the very fact that he attempts to resist this rage that he exhibits a far greater and unstoppable fury than even the most vicious of Orc fighters.

Background
No one is sure exactly how or when Lord Hannery became accompanied by an orcling everywhere he went. Whispers, as usual, trailed in his wake and often surmised that he was the diplomatic hostage from a rogue Orc horde. Or maybe he was the son of an ally?

But Lord Hannery doted on Lans so much, that many soon forgot the fact that his skin more closely matched the Hannery Sigil’s colors. And as the years went on, many of their own children would befriend or rival Lans in the schoolyard. And due to his being a Hannery, Lans enjoyed many happy days of protection and privilege.

It was not long, however, that Lans broke into a fight with a rival over who received more pleasantries from Emmalise duChesse and soundly broke all his teeth and left jawbone. This savagery was not unpunished and Lans learned quickly that such actions had no place in his world. He grew more distant and frustrated as he turned 9… losing friends and any kind of pleasantry whatsoever.

And then his life changed. Lord Hannery had hoped that his son would forget his Orcish tendencies if raised properly but was not foolish enough to trust in this. He had long sent for any mentor that would be willing to help train Lans to control himself and, at the same time, be able to express himself fully. And so, the arrival of Master Tlemich, a philosopher and court sword-dancer, would begin a new part of Lans’ life.

Many years later, Lans ultimately chose to enlist with the fabled Terror Knights, the effective opposite side of the coin of Templars, and quickly rose through the ranks. His experience as a sword-dancer gave him many edges over the normally crude fighting styles of his peers and allowed him to be even more effective at ending entire battles with a single stroke of his blade. Though he never saw any real battle, the many tournaments and friendly war games honed his skills as a warrior and tactician.

Then, the Behemoth came.

Within days, Lans’ many friends and comrades fell quickly to the monsters. Many more would succumb to madness. In that chaos, Lans was quickly made leader of a crack team of Terror Knights and dispatched to a coastal area near Pioneer’s Breath to protect survivors and to survey the damage. After a few successful battles with the beasts, Lans lead his Knights towards the City of Light.

The night before they reached the City, Lans woke up knee-deep in the ocean, facing the direction of the Behemoth. He had no armor on and no weapons were present in his hands. And yet he was covered in blood. When he found his camp, he realized the horrific truth: he had torn all his allies to pieces by hand. But he did not remember any of it.

Broken in spirit, Lans entered the City of Light to find that there were no messages or envoys waiting from his garrison or home. Despite warnings, he attempted again and again to trek back to his father. The further he pushed himself, the more often he woke up in an unknown place with signs of his violent fury everywhere. Soon, he found that this rage began to overtake him even during his waking hours and decided to use it against the many Pathfinders and monsters that threatened the City. However, his rage ultimately proved too much a liability and the Guard imprisoned him. During those years in solitude, madness leaned on his wounds and would have overtaken him if it were not for Thokhruss, a shaman orc imprisoned near him. Through his counseling and lessons on Orc proving rituals, Lans learned to better control himself.

Thokhruss imparted runes onto his back to aid him in the spiritual quest that all young orcs go through. But even despite this, Lans continued to dread the cage he was in and how he could be no use to the screams and agony he heard every day and night. And on such a night, Thokhruss finally succumbed to madness. Lans ended the life of his mentor and swore that this would be the last time he ever raised a weapon against friends and allies. When the city's defenses suffered, they recruited Lans again, noting that he had not raged for quite some time. Now busy with fighting creatures once more, Lans wondered what the future held for him.

Lans, once the brave and terrible, now fears for much: the safety of his father and friends, the meaning of the Behemoth, and himself.

Coping Mechanism
Lans never mastered his rage as all orclings do during their initiation and did not even start his spiritual quest at all until recently. After the Behemoth, Lans often had flashes of blackouts and would learn that he had raged during that time.

Mechanic: Whenever Lans reaches 0 SP, he can make a Orc Rage roll. If successful, Lans is protected from 0 SP penalties but cannot use magic, abilities, or his curse and MUST attack every turn until his rage subsides (if someone reads the runes off his back or is incapacitated), after which he regains full SP. Additionally, during Rage mode, Lans MUST attack the nearest target regardless of it being friend or foe.
Lans the Ghukzoul



Name:
Lans the Ghukzoul (orcish: terror, contextually a praise and often connotated with courage and strength)

Age: 41
Race: Orc
HP: ❇❇❇
SP: ❇❇
Job: Terror Knight lvl 5 (knights purposed for lowering morale and efficiently...and almost theatrically brutally... killing their enemies)
Magical Affinity: Metal lvl 2
Curse: Curse of Kraxiel lvl 1

Appearance
Typical of Orcs, Lans is 6’5’’, well built, and green-skinned. His thick hair resembles more the wool of sheep than the threads of weaving.

However, Lans stands straighter and more posed than most Orcs. His braided hair and well-kept armor defy preconceived notions of Orcish brutality and barbarism. His tusks appear to be filed down but with the precision of a woodcarver rather than the typical jagged wear from harsh bites from days past.

And, certainly unlike other Orcs, he is almost never seen without his upper garments on. But if you were to see him so, you would notice the tattoos that go down his back along his spine… and if you’re lucky, you could make them out as some runes.

Lans’ posture gives off the distinct feeling that he is challenging you… that he has something to prove. But his experience in physical combat also manifests in his composure and tends to keep him free of brawls and minor altercations. Perhaps due to this, he seems to lack the scars normally found all over the tough hide of Orc warriors. And considering his age, he should be littered with dozens.

Personality
Often described as a gentleman, Lans demonstrates the best of aristocratic etiquette and mannerisms. As such, he is neither too forward nor too timid. He is courteous, kind, and listens intently to any and all conversation.

But those who know him well, know that this is just his upbringing. In a more private setting, his coarser language and fondness for crude jokes would reassure all that he is, in fact, an Orc. His appetite for direct dialogue and getting to the reason for every interaction would put off most dignitaries and guests.

And his appetite does not end there. Truly, if he were the incarnate of any sin, it would be Indulgence. Ever a champion of feasts, Lans would always enjoy the richest and most seasoned foods and drinks. Similarly, his appetite in games and entertainment reach decadent levels… within the limits of good taste, of course.

This intensity is also reinforced by his horrific temper. And perhaps it is the very fact that he attempts to resist this rage that he exhibits a far greater and unstoppable fury than even the most vicious of Orc fighters.

Background
No one is sure exactly how or when Lord Hannery became accompanied by an orcling everywhere he went. Whispers, as usual, trailed in his wake and often surmised that he was the diplomatic hostage from a rogue Orc horde. Or maybe he was the son of an ally?

But Lord Hannery doted on Lans so much, that many soon forgot the fact that his skin more closely matched the Hannery Sigil’s colors. And as the years went on, many of their own children would befriend or rival Lans in the schoolyard. And due to his being a Hannery, Lans enjoyed many happy days of protection and privilege.

It was not long, however, that Lans broke into a fight with a rival over who received more pleasantries from Emmalise duChesse and soundly broke all his teeth and left jawbone. This savagery was not unpunished and Lans learned quickly that such actions had no place in his world. He grew more distant and frustrated as he turned 9… losing friends and any kind of pleasantry whatsoever.

And then his life changed. Lord Hannery had hoped that his son would forget his Orcish tendencies if raised properly but was not foolish enough to trust in this. He had long sent for any mentor that would be willing to help train Lans to control himself and, at the same time, be able to express himself fully. And so, the arrival of Master Tlemich, a philosopher and court sword-dancer, would begin a new part of Lans’ life.

Many years later, Lans ultimately chose to enlist with the fabled Terror Knights, the effective opposite side of the coin of Templars, and quickly rose through the ranks. His experience as a sword-dancer gave him many edges over the normally crude fighting styles of his peers and allowed him to be even more effective at ending entire battles with a single stroke of his blade. Though he never saw any real battle, the many tournaments and friendly war games honed his skills as a warrior and tactician.

Then, the Behemoth came.

Within days, Lans’ many friends and comrades fell quickly to the monsters. Many more would succumb to madness. In that chaos, Lans was quickly made leader of a crack team of Terror Knights and dispatched to a coastal area near Pioneer’s Breath to protect survivors and to survey the damage. After a few successful battles with the beasts, Lans lead his Knights towards the City of Light.

The night before they reached the City, Lans woke up knee-deep in the ocean, facing the direction of the Behemoth. He had no armor on and no weapons were present in his hands. And yet he was covered in blood. When he found his camp, he realized the horrific truth: he had torn all his allies to pieces by hand. But he did not remember any of it.

Broken in spirit, Lans entered the City of Light to find that there were no messages or envoys waiting from his garrison or home. Despite warnings, he attempted again and again to trek back to his father. The further he pushed himself, the more often he woke up in an unknown place with signs of his violent fury everywhere. Soon, he found that this rage began to overtake him even during his waking hours and decided to use it against the many Pathfinders and monsters that threatened the City. However, his rage ultimately proved too much a liability and the Guard imprisoned him. During those years in solitude, madness leaned on his wounds and would have overtaken him if it were not for Thokhruss, a shaman orc imprisoned near him. Through his counseling and lessons on Orc proving rituals, Lans learned to better control himself.

Thokhruss imparted runes onto his back to aid him in the spiritual quest that all young orcs go through. But even despite this, Lans continued to dread the cage he was in and how he could be no use to the screams and agony he heard every day and night. And on such a night, Thokhruss finally succumbed to madness. Lans ended the life of his mentor and swore that this would be the last time he ever raised a weapon against friends and allies. When the city's defenses suffered, they recruited Lans again, noting that he had not raged for quite some time. Now busy with fighting creatures once more, Lans wondered what the future held for him.

Lans, once the brave and terrible, now fears for much: the safety of his father and friends, the meaning of the Behemoth, and himself.

Coping Mechanism
Lans never mastered his rage as all orclings do during their initiation and did not even start his spiritual quest at all until recently. After the Behemoth, Lans often had flashes of blackouts and would learn that he had raged during that time.

Mechanic: Whenever Lans reaches 0 SP, he can make a Orc Rage roll. If successful, Lans is protected from 0 SP penalties but cannot use magic, abilities, or his curse and MUST attack every turn until his rage subsides (if someone reads the runes off his back or is incapacitated), after which he regains full SP. Additionally, during Rage mode, Lans MUST attack the nearest target regardless of it being friend or foe.
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