Gisk

Hogwarts: Ignition - Year One

I'm kinda frozen by Eyeris.

The Last Wizard (EnA Format)

Alphonse looked over his shoulder as he backpedaled toward the burning courthouse. "Hey," he shouted at his impromptu companions. "I can't exactly go in there! Gunpowder and all that. Someone should save those peas... people." As he spoke he was reloading his gun, hoping to shoot at that cyclops before it did too much damage. (Rolled eight). The gun was reloaded, and Al was ready to fire...((next turn))

Deleted

Eh, I don't look much up, personally. There's a lot I don't know, but I work with my own knowledge mostly. That kind of limits me to Avacyn block and onward.

Deleted

I'm adding spells to my CS over time. I gave him a phoenix, I was gonna have it be a companion to him, rather than just a summon spell.

Deleted

I believe they meet the criteria, Charak.

Deleted

Oldus

Name: Oldus Vol Age: 23 Gender: Male Race: Human Class: Shaman Home Plane: Ravnica Colors: Red Green White Personality: Oldus has a very interesting history that has left him with equal parts fierceness and inquisitiveness. Both wildness, and a sense of justice. He is quick to defend the weak, and equally quick to punish the wicked. He relishes combat, but also conversation. His thirst for knowledge is unfortunately often overridden by his impulsive nature. Though he desires to know about the world around him, he'll often take action before considering the possible outcomes. This leaves him with a lot of missed opportunities and a fear of regretting his actions. Though he has been in the "civilized" world for over ten years, he still lacks any sense of modesty or decorum. He is often berated for his habit of nonchalantly stripping naked regardless of who is in the room, and will leave his home in various states of undress. History: Oldus is the son of Burning Tree Clan's emissary to the other Guilds. His father is unknown. His mother carried him in her travels until he was four years old, and he saw more in his formative years than most children who are reared in the Gruul clans. "Survival of the fittest" holds true, even for the youngest of the clans, and Oldus was one of the fittest indeed. He had something that many Gruul lack. A potential for intellect. He may not have been the biggest or the fastest or the strongest, but he outsmarted those who were, and grew into his strength and speed and size in his own time. By the time he was sixteen, still a child by many culture's standards, he was already an accomplished shaman and warrior. And it was during this year that everything changed for him. A raiding party from his clan clashed with a Boros regiment defending the crumbling edge of one of the districts. Though the Boros were much fewer in number, they slaughtered the Gruul warriors by the tens. Most of his comrades cursed and grew angrier, but Oldus alone paused to think why they fought so. Were they stronger? No. They were mostly men, and in fact the Gruul had many larger beings with them. He saw, from a distance, the reason for their overwhelming victory. High above the battle, there flew an angel. Some would get superstitious and think that they were blessed, but Oldus again differed. He listened, and he heard that she was calling commands down at them. He realized that she saw the battle from a different perspective. One that the Gruul lacked completely. Oldus waited until she directed her gaze to a different part of the battlefield, and then hefted his spear, and lunged it with a spell to strengthen and guide it. It struck and injured her in the wing, and he rushed to where she plummeted. Instead of striking a killing blow, Oldus spoke to the angel, as the battle raged on nearby. He asked her questions, and the two spoke until the sound of swords axes and spells halted. She told him about the white magic that she knew, and he was curious. Neither knew what would become of the battle, until a Boros search party came to find her. She celebrated their victory while Oldus was taken as a prisoner, destined, it would seem, to an Azorious trial. But it was the angel who intervened. She offered him a place under her in the Boros Legion, and he happily accepted that in lieu of interrogation and ultimate execution. And so he was trained in the fighting tactics and battle magic used by the Boros, and soon fought beside them as a battlemage. His comrades soon forgot where he came from, and he was accepted into their ranks as if he had always been there. He fought beside them for the ten years that the Boros require of any recruit, and then left with the wages he had earned. Though he had grown to love and respect his comrades, his wild upbringing was always at odds with the strict discipline of the Boros. Still, the Legion had instilled in him a desire to protect the people of Ravnica's districts, and he continued to fight for them when necessary. Spells: Searing Spear Warleader's Helix Aurelia's fury Firewing Phoenix(more a companion than a summon spell, if that's okay). Enlarge Sword of Kaldra(Maybe not, it's a bit OP for this, I think).

Deleted

Nah, Garuuk was just cursed.

Deleted

I love the idea, it's something I've meant to implement. Will we have a mana system or some other way of controlling when we can do spells of varying power? Also, here's the basic premise of the character: Human from Ravnica. Grew up in a Gruul clan, but converted later in life to Boros(picking up his third color). He's wild, but with a sense of justice and an instinct to protect. He is distanced from the Gruul by his willingness to protect the weak, but also from the Boros by his distaste for strict discipline. I have not yet decided how his spark ignites.

Deleted

I've got a Red White Green character in mind.

The Last Wizard (EnA Format)

Alphonse charged out of the courthouse as quickly as he could. It's not that he was a coward or anything, it was just that if he caught on fire he would take anyone near him down as well. It was for the good of the many that he ran... er, declined to fight the fire. But now monsters were coming. This was his job, and he was good at it(so far, anyway). He knew with that crowd he could only fire once before needing to switch to his sword, there was no time to reload. Alphonse got in range and pulled his gun from his hip, and fired at one of the bat-winged monsters. (Rolled an 8) The bullet passed through the monster, hitting it square in its one eye. It fell to the ground with a thump, moving no more as its dark blood oozed onto the ground. Alphonse drew his sword to continue the fight.