Fetzenyes, is that a problem, may I not be allowed to speak the language of my native tongue?I believe Water Akira put it aptly: it was only a question. I am sorry if it offended you.
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Posted. Please feel free to point out any typos; I wanted to get it done before I slept. Also, if anyone would like to meet with my character in "In the forest, a mile outside of Starter Town", then by all means, spot the camp-fire, or stumble across him by pseudo-random chance.
Radley
On the high slopes of the Ryu Mountain range a savage wind blew. It whipped at Radley’s face, reddening his bare skin with its vicious chill, and, from the corners of his half-open eyes, streaks of tears ran to his hairline. One fist was clamped tightly around the brim of his sugegasa, the conical straw hat that sat upon his head, as the silk ribbon that normally held it adequately was fraying in the wind, and would not doubt have snapped under the force of a particularly strong gust. The hat was tilted slightly forward, in an attempt to further shield his eyes.
It had not been this bad when he started up the mountain pass, but Radley knew the risks taking this route during the early spring; its weather was temperamental at best. Weighing this against cutting at least a week of his travels times had led to Radley deciding it was worth it, which in turn, led to his current predicament. As if to spite him, a solitary figure on the mountainside, the weather took a turn for the worse, and he had to spend two days in a cave eating cured rabbit flesh around a meagre fire whilst waiting for the lashing hailstorm to clear. He had deemed it safe for travel on the third morning, and found that the wind was still as vehement as ever, but it was bearable.
In his other hand, Radley held his trusty staff, an old friend, who seemed to be an extension of his very body, which he currently used to traverse a section of loose shingles, with boulders jutting up sporadically from it. It was tricky; even with Radley’s quickstep and light footfalls it began to slide down, and the wind seemed to wish to throw him of balance all the while, forcing him to break into almost a run, until he reached the solace solid of ground.
As he crested the final rise, he was greeted with a downwards slope and a magnificent view; the weather had since cleared up and offered a flawless azure backdrop to the expansive landscape, rolling hills and dense woodlands. He could also see a colourful gem on the horizon, the colloquially coined Starter Town, closer to a small city than a town with all the commerce and foreign embassy it saw.
Back in Bjorfrost, a northern frontier town whose mayor was indebted to Radley, the monk had heard rumours of a coming festival in the South, housed in the town he saw before him. Even that far north the people were excited, and there seemed to be a frantic dash to catch as many Knuckledhead from the icy lakes as possible, and carve trinkets from their sought-after, oversized skulls, which fetched a pretty penny on the southern market. The day Radley had left, the fishing trawlers were out in swarms, practically covering the lake, and it would have been a miracle in no fighting occurred due to disputes over catches. With a sparked curiosity, he had decided it was time to move on, and what better place to go than this renowned festival, and see first-hand if it was worth all the fuss.
He adjusted the pack on his back, and with his spirits raised from the sighting of the town, Radley made good pace down the shallow climb of the mountain pass, and soon trees started passing him as he descended into lands more hospitable. He was headed for the River Aern, which ran straight through Starter Town, and would take him the rest of his journey without much concern for navigation, allowing each footfall to come gaily as his mind wandered and he soaked in the warm sunshine. Once he was alongside the river, which swathed its way through land quickly becoming wooded, he was treated to the merry twitter of birdsong too. The river was illustrious in the sunlight, like liquid diamond flowing free. When Radley rested at noon whilst the Sun passed its zenith, the water did not disappoint; each mouthful was revitalising and so cold it felt like it was cutting your mouth, and it washed away the residual saltiness of the cured meat with welcome efficiency.
Onwards Radley trudged, his boots crunching in the wet sediment of the riverside, his staff offering stability and an extra driving force. He was making good pace, but knew he would not make the town in time; he had only just reached one of the winding dirt tracks that had been trodden in by numerous travellers and trading caravans. He followed this path for close to an hour, only seeing a single rider pass him in this time.
The sky was beginning to stain vermillion with the setting sun, and blue strips of cloud hung in wait of the coming night. Radley turned off the path before reaching the main cobblestone road that ran from Starter Town to New Harbour, and into the woodland running parallel to it. It sloped downwards, forcing Radley to lift his staff up on the ground and trot down so he didn’t fall face-first, and likely spill the contents of his pack.
As the Sun touched the horizon, Radley had found a suitable place to camp: a ring-copse of trees, not too far from a road in the hopes wild animals kept away, which he could sling his hide covering between for shelter. In the ring made by the trees there were also several boulders, one of which he used to semi-shelter his fire, from the elements, and any unsavoury eyes, and another he slung his burden over, sitting on the only remaining, and also flattest, moss-covered stone. He yanked of his boots, after unbuckling them, and stretched, wriggling his toes, the nip in the air a welcome change from the sweltering atmosphere of his boots. His arms reached far above his head, his back cracked audibly once, and he let of a yawn.
The camp was easily set up; the covering, a mesh of sewn together animal hides, acted almost like a tent when slung between the branches of three trees, and retained much of the heat from the fire. Radley then went about skinning the three rabbits he had caught and not eat eaten on his journey, intending to feast upon one now, and quickly cure the other two overnight.
The sun was now a semi-circle of blazing fire, dropping slowly into the ground on the horizon.
Aura, a question of mere curiosity, but is English your native language?
It is necessary for our characters to all meet up, or could there be multiple smaller groups,or maybe even just individuals, that the GM can then herd in the same general direction for chance of future interaction? This saves waiting for posts, and for events transpiring too quickly before a relevant character has a chance to respond.
Name: Radley Oerheart
Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSjRggiSBrU
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Appearance:
Weapons: A Bo staff of rattan wood, a gift from his late master, Shaiden Ginji, has served as a loyal companion to Radley over his five years as a travelling hermit, serving equally well as a cane to aid walking as it did to defend himself from optimistic predators or highwaymen; never did they expect it to be wielded with such expertise. Knowledgeable of many arts regarding the staff, Radley can adapt to his foe, but most generally encompass dazzling displays of spinning and flowing blows, favouring fast, precise strikes, and sometimes even just impressive feats designed to intimidate before it is even necessary to resort to violence.
Powers/Abilities:
Chi Augmentation:
Through concentration, Radley can harness his spiritual energy, his chi, to augment his physical and mental capabilities. He can keep this up for close to an hour, though he would have to rest for twice a long afterwards to regain his strength, and would be significantly weakened during this period. During the augmentation, Radley’s eyes turn an iridescent blue.
Typically, Radley possesses a fair amount of strength for his build, as he exercises regularly practising with his staff and fists. With the use of his spiritual energy, he is capable of augmenting his strength to incredible levels, and of augmenting his speed, so that he can reach roughly thrice the speed he normally achievable by sprinting full out, though this cannot be maintained for long. However, he can fortify his stamina, and run tirelessly at a slower pace, which drains him less. The tissues of Radley’s body can also be hardened. While still vulnerable to physical injury, Radley is able to use his spiritual energy to augment his durability, so that he is able to withstand blunt forces or glancing blows from swords, though a strong enough blow could still break his bones and a sword or spear could cut or impale him if the strike is direct.
[Locked]
Chi Channelling:
By summoning his chi and focusing it into his hand or staff, he can make both extremely strong and resistant to damage, and pain in the case of his hand, and strike using either with far greater force than otherwise possible. This technique is simply a psychic channelling of concentrated natural energy, so it requires a calm mind and time. There is a visual indicator of this channelling, as his staff or hand will begin to glow blue, and then seem to burst into a heatless blue flame.
Biography:
Radley Oerheart was the son of a one Lord Cumberdale Oerheart, a profitable salt merchant he came into his fortune through hard work and no small amount of luck, monopolising business in the Western port city of Caerhern, which his manor overlooks. He is renowned for being a cold man, as sharp as a flint; with a cutting edge, he would just as readily shave your neck with, as he would slit your throat, so long as it benefitted him. Perhaps something he was equally renowned for as his debauchery was his lechery; men feared to let their wives near him, as he was undeniably a handsome man, with money, who also happened to ooze charisma: an envy-invoking trifecta. Even more so when he did not attempt to hide the fact that he was a serial adulterer, not even his first wife. She committed suicide, not out of spite or jealousy, but for fear of what might happen to her if she tried to run of, or, heavens forbid, asked Lord Cumberdale to leave.
However, before she killed herself, she handed her newborn baby boy to a travelling scholar, asking him to take him far away, paying him with a hefty purse of silver, but it may not have been necessary; the sheer maternal fear in the woman’s eyes meant that he could hardly refuse. Cumberdale was outraged when he found out that his only legitimate song was missing, odd, considering the number, he no doubt had in the city under another man’s unknowing protection. The scholar, well versed in eastern geography, knew a place where the babe would be safe, and took him many miles to seek sanctuary in a Temple, belonging to the Bugwa Monks. They took the child in when the scholar asked, not wanting or needing an explanation.
And so that it where Radley Oerheart spent his youth. He was different to the other children who were there, even though there were very few; his eyes were wider and closer to circles than their narrow slits, and his skin was paler. These differences meant that he was shunned and picked, as is the petty and sometimes cruel nature of children. Radley withdrew into himself slightly, not trying to make friends, and sometimes even actively avoiding new faces. The teachers, who taught the children how to read and write, thought he was merely being petulant and acting up when he would not read a word or answer a question.
In his late childhood, different teachers taught them how to fight, with bare fists and various weapons, and about the spirituality behind this art. Radley was able to actively engage in this, enjoy the sparing sessions, even though he was sometimes scolded for being too rough. Having no friends, this practise consumed most of his time, when he was not doing chores around the temple, and soon he became a prominent student, if not the best, and Radley became proud of himself and his achievements.
But pride comes before the fall, and one day, after enduring numerous harsh whispers behind his back, but purposefully loud enough to here, and “accidental” blows during movement exercises, Radley broke, and took it out on his teacher, asking why what they were doing was so repetitive. The teacher was unnervingly calm at this outburst, and said it was to learn the forms entirely, in muscles and not just mind. Radley insisted that he had, and challenged the teacher to a duel, saying that if he won, he would be taught something new, and if he lost, he would do as the teacher instructed. The teacher obliged, and they duelled with wooden swords, and Radley won the duel, to the shock of everyone present; at times he seemed to be a blur, and there was a glint in his eyes that might have just been a trick of the light.
The teacher, having agreed to the bargain, kept his part, instructing him to go to Shaiden Ginji and ask for his tutorage. Radley did, though he had his doubts, as the man was very old, with a crooked back and deep wrinkles. When he asked Shaiden, the old man asked to duel him. Radley hardly though it a fair fight, and it wasn’t, not for Radley at least; the old man used a staff that meant Radley could never get close with his wooden sword, getting swept, jabbed and redirected without even raising a defence. Radley was so shocked at his defeat, and at the skill of the old man, that he begged him to teach him, vouching to abandon the sword, which he had believed to be the king of weapons, and follow the way of the staff. The old man agreed, and told him the story of Jearom; He was considered the best swordsman to have ever lived, and it was said he fought over 10,000 times in battle and single combat. He only lost once, and it was to a lowly farmer with a quarterstaff.
Radley spent the next ten years under Shaiden’s tutelage, during which he became a far calmer and reserved person. At the end of this period, Shaiden gave him his staff, and said there was no more he could be taught, so Radley should travel the world, and discover what lessons it had in store for him. He travelled over the next five years, his trail taking him across three continents, with many nights spent under the stars in a humble camp. Over this time, he amounted a small amount of money, but had very little desire for expensive things, only travelling into towns to spend it when he could find not prey with his bow he had purchased near the start of his expedition, or if the weather was particularly nasty.
After many years of travelling, helping those in need and learning all that he could, he found himself in Alvera, he heard rumours of a mist that could leave entire towns in ruins. Whilst not entirely believing this, he did not entirely dismiss it either, and began looking for answers.
Weapons: A Bo staff of rattan wood, a gift from his late master, Shaiden Ginji, has served as a loyal companion to Radley over his five years as a travelling hermit, serving equally well as a cane to aid walking as it did to defend himself from optimistic predators or highwaymen; never did they expect it to be wielded with such expertise. Knowledgeable of many arts regarding the staff, Radley can adapt to his foe, but most generally encompass dazzling displays of spinning and flowing blows, favouring fast, precise strikes, and sometimes even just impressive feats designed to intimidate before it is even necessary to resort to violence.
Powers/Abilities:
Chi Augmentation:
Through concentration, Radley can harness his spiritual energy, his chi, to augment his physical and mental capabilities. He can keep this up for close to an hour, though he would have to rest for twice a long afterwards to regain his strength, and would be significantly weakened during this period. During the augmentation, Radley’s eyes turn an iridescent blue.
Typically, Radley possesses a fair amount of strength for his build, as he exercises regularly practising with his staff and fists. With the use of his spiritual energy, he is capable of augmenting his strength to incredible levels, and of augmenting his speed, so that he can reach roughly thrice the speed he normally achievable by sprinting full out, though this cannot be maintained for long. However, he can fortify his stamina, and run tirelessly at a slower pace, which drains him less. The tissues of Radley’s body can also be hardened. While still vulnerable to physical injury, Radley is able to use his spiritual energy to augment his durability, so that he is able to withstand blunt forces or glancing blows from swords, though a strong enough blow could still break his bones and a sword or spear could cut or impale him if the strike is direct.
[Locked]
Chi Channelling:
By summoning his chi and focusing it into his hand or staff, he can make both extremely strong and resistant to damage, and pain in the case of his hand, and strike using either with far greater force than otherwise possible. This technique is simply a psychic channelling of concentrated natural energy, so it requires a calm mind and time. There is a visual indicator of this channelling, as his staff or hand will begin to glow blue, and then seem to burst into a heatless blue flame.
Biography:
Radley Oerheart was the son of a one Lord Cumberdale Oerheart, a profitable salt merchant he came into his fortune through hard work and no small amount of luck, monopolising business in the Western port city of Caerhern, which his manor overlooks. He is renowned for being a cold man, as sharp as a flint; with a cutting edge, he would just as readily shave your neck with, as he would slit your throat, so long as it benefitted him. Perhaps something he was equally renowned for as his debauchery was his lechery; men feared to let their wives near him, as he was undeniably a handsome man, with money, who also happened to ooze charisma: an envy-invoking trifecta. Even more so when he did not attempt to hide the fact that he was a serial adulterer, not even his first wife. She committed suicide, not out of spite or jealousy, but for fear of what might happen to her if she tried to run of, or, heavens forbid, asked Lord Cumberdale to leave.
However, before she killed herself, she handed her newborn baby boy to a travelling scholar, asking him to take him far away, paying him with a hefty purse of silver, but it may not have been necessary; the sheer maternal fear in the woman’s eyes meant that he could hardly refuse. Cumberdale was outraged when he found out that his only legitimate song was missing, odd, considering the number, he no doubt had in the city under another man’s unknowing protection. The scholar, well versed in eastern geography, knew a place where the babe would be safe, and took him many miles to seek sanctuary in a Temple, belonging to the Bugwa Monks. They took the child in when the scholar asked, not wanting or needing an explanation.
And so that it where Radley Oerheart spent his youth. He was different to the other children who were there, even though there were very few; his eyes were wider and closer to circles than their narrow slits, and his skin was paler. These differences meant that he was shunned and picked, as is the petty and sometimes cruel nature of children. Radley withdrew into himself slightly, not trying to make friends, and sometimes even actively avoiding new faces. The teachers, who taught the children how to read and write, thought he was merely being petulant and acting up when he would not read a word or answer a question.
In his late childhood, different teachers taught them how to fight, with bare fists and various weapons, and about the spirituality behind this art. Radley was able to actively engage in this, enjoy the sparing sessions, even though he was sometimes scolded for being too rough. Having no friends, this practise consumed most of his time, when he was not doing chores around the temple, and soon he became a prominent student, if not the best, and Radley became proud of himself and his achievements.
But pride comes before the fall, and one day, after enduring numerous harsh whispers behind his back, but purposefully loud enough to here, and “accidental” blows during movement exercises, Radley broke, and took it out on his teacher, asking why what they were doing was so repetitive. The teacher was unnervingly calm at this outburst, and said it was to learn the forms entirely, in muscles and not just mind. Radley insisted that he had, and challenged the teacher to a duel, saying that if he won, he would be taught something new, and if he lost, he would do as the teacher instructed. The teacher obliged, and they duelled with wooden swords, and Radley won the duel, to the shock of everyone present; at times he seemed to be a blur, and there was a glint in his eyes that might have just been a trick of the light.
The teacher, having agreed to the bargain, kept his part, instructing him to go to Shaiden Ginji and ask for his tutorage. Radley did, though he had his doubts, as the man was very old, with a crooked back and deep wrinkles. When he asked Shaiden, the old man asked to duel him. Radley hardly though it a fair fight, and it wasn’t, not for Radley at least; the old man used a staff that meant Radley could never get close with his wooden sword, getting swept, jabbed and redirected without even raising a defence. Radley was so shocked at his defeat, and at the skill of the old man, that he begged him to teach him, vouching to abandon the sword, which he had believed to be the king of weapons, and follow the way of the staff. The old man agreed, and told him the story of Jearom; He was considered the best swordsman to have ever lived, and it was said he fought over 10,000 times in battle and single combat. He only lost once, and it was to a lowly farmer with a quarterstaff.
Radley spent the next ten years under Shaiden’s tutelage, during which he became a far calmer and reserved person. At the end of this period, Shaiden gave him his staff, and said there was no more he could be taught, so Radley should travel the world, and discover what lessons it had in store for him. He travelled over the next five years, his trail taking him across three continents, with many nights spent under the stars in a humble camp. Over this time, he amounted a small amount of money, but had very little desire for expensive things, only travelling into towns to spend it when he could find not prey with his bow he had purchased near the start of his expedition, or if the weather was particularly nasty.
After many years of travelling, helping those in need and learning all that he could, he found himself in Alvera, he heard rumours of a mist that could leave entire towns in ruins. Whilst not entirely believing this, he did not entirely dismiss it either, and began looking for answers.Double post, whoops.
Name: Radley Oerheart
Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSjRggiSBrU
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Appearance:
Weapons: A Bo staff of rattan wood, a gift from his late master, Shaiden Ginji, has served as a loyal companion to Radley over his five years as a travelling hermit, serving equally well as a cane to aid walking as it did to defend himself from optimistic predators or highwaymen; never did they expect it to be wielded with such expertise. Knowledgeable of many arts regarding the staff, Radley can adapt to his foe, but most generally encompass dazzling displays of spinning and flowing blows, favouring fast, precise strikes, and sometimes even just impressive feats designed to intimidate before it is even necessary to resort to violence.
Powers/Abilities:
Chi Augmentation:
Through concentration, Radley can harness his spiritual energy, his chi, to augment his physical and mental capabilities. He can keep this up for close to an hour, though he would have to rest for twice a long afterwards to regain his strength, and would be significantly weakened during this period. During the augmentation, Radley’s eyes turn an iridescent blue.
Typically, Radley possesses a fair amount of strength for his build, as he exercises regularly practising with his staff and fists. With the use of his spiritual energy, he is capable of augmenting his strength to incredible levels, and of augmenting his speed, so that he can reach roughly thrice the speed he normally achievable by sprinting full out, though this cannot be maintained for long. However, he can fortify his stamina, and run tirelessly at a slower pace, which drains him less. The tissues of Radley’s body can also be hardened. While still vulnerable to physical injury, Radley is able to use his spiritual energy to augment his durability, so that he is able to withstand blunt forces or glancing blows from swords, though a strong enough blow could still break his bones and a sword or spear could cut or impale him if the strike is direct.
[Locked]
Chi Channelling:
By summoning his chi and focusing it into his hand or staff, he can make both extremely strong and resistant to damage, and pain in the case of his hand, and strike using either with far greater force than otherwise possible. This technique is simply a psychic channelling of concentrated natural energy, so it requires a calm mind and time. There is a visual indicator of this channelling, as his staff or hand will begin to glow blue, and then seem to burst into a heatless blue flame.
Biography:
Radley Oerheart was the son of a one Lord Cumberdale Oerheart, a profitable salt merchant he came into his fortune through hard work and no small amount of luck, monopolising business in the Western port city of Caerhern, which his manor overlooks. He is renowned for being a cold man, as sharp as a flint; with a cutting edge, he would just as readily shave your neck with, as he would slit your throat, so long as it benefitted him. Perhaps something he was equally renowned for as his debauchery was his lechery; men feared to let their wives near him, as he was undeniably a handsome man, with money, who also happened to ooze charisma: an envy-invoking trifecta. Even more so when he did not attempt to hide the fact that he was a serial adulterer, not even his first wife. She committed suicide, not out of spite or jealousy, but for fear of what might happen to her if she tried to run of, or, heavens forbid, asked Lord Cumberdale to leave.
However, before she killed herself, she handed her newborn baby boy to a travelling scholar, asking him to take him far away, paying him with a hefty purse of silver, but it may not have been necessary; the sheer maternal fear in the woman’s eyes meant that he could hardly refuse. Cumberdale was outraged when he found out that his only legitimate song was missing, odd, considering the number, he no doubt had in the city under another man’s unknowing protection. The scholar, well versed in eastern geography, knew a place where the babe would be safe, and took him many miles to seek sanctuary in a Temple, belonging to the Bugwa Monks. They took the child in when the scholar asked, not wanting or needing an explanation.
And so that it where Radley Oerheart spent his youth. He was different to the other children who were there, even though there were very few; his eyes were wider and closer to circles than their narrow slits, and his skin was paler. These differences meant that he was shunned and picked, as is the petty and sometimes cruel nature of children. Radley withdrew into himself slightly, not trying to make friends, and sometimes even actively avoiding new faces. The teachers, who taught the children how to read and write, thought he was merely being petulant and acting up when he would not read a word or answer a question.
In his late childhood, different teachers taught them how to fight, with bare fists and various weapons, and about the spirituality behind this art. Radley was able to actively engage in this, enjoy the sparing sessions, even though he was sometimes scolded for being too rough. Having no friends, this practise consumed most of his time, when he was not doing chores around the temple, and soon he became a prominent student, if not the best, and Radley became proud of himself and his achievements.
But pride comes before the fall, and one day, after enduring numerous harsh whispers behind his back, but purposefully loud enough to here, and “accidental” blows during movement exercises, Radley broke, and took it out on his teacher, asking why what they were doing was so repetitive. The teacher was unnervingly calm at this outburst, and said it was to learn the forms entirely, in muscles and not just mind. Radley insisted that he had, and challenged the teacher to a duel, saying that if he won, he would be taught something new, and if he lost, he would do as the teacher instructed. The teacher obliged, and they duelled with wooden swords, and Radley won the duel, to the shock of everyone present; at times he seemed to be a blur, and there was a glint in his eyes that might have just been a trick of the light.
The teacher, having agreed to the bargain, kept his part, instructing him to go to Shaiden Ginji and ask for his tutorage. Radley did, though he had his doubts, as the man was very old, with a crooked back and deep wrinkles. When he asked Shaiden, the old man asked to duel him. Radley hardly though it a fair fight, and it wasn’t, not for Radley at least; the old man used a staff that meant Radley could never get close with his wooden sword, getting swept, jabbed and redirected without even raising a defence. Radley was so shocked at his defeat, and at the skill of the old man, that he begged him to teach him, vouching to abandon the sword, which he had believed to be the king of weapons, and follow the way of the staff. The old man agreed, and told him the story of Jearom; He was considered the best swordsman to have ever lived, and it was said he fought over 10,000 times in battle and single combat. He only lost once, and it was to a lowly farmer with a quarterstaff.
Radley spent the next ten years under Shaiden’s tutelage, during which he became a far calmer and reserved person. At the end of this period, Shaiden gave him his staff, and said there was no more he could be taught, so Radley should travel the world, and discover what lessons it had in store for him. He travelled over the next five years, his trail taking him across three continents, with many nights spent under the stars in a humble camp. Over this time, he amounted a small amount of money, but had very little desire for expensive things, only travelling into towns to spend it when he could find not prey with his bow he had purchased near the start of his expedition, or if the weather was particularly nasty.
After many years of travelling, helping those in need and learning all that he could, he found himself in Alvera, he heard rumours of a mist that could leave entire towns in ruins. Whilst not entirely believing this, he did not entirely dismiss it either, and began looking for answers.
Weapons: A Bo staff of rattan wood, a gift from his late master, Shaiden Ginji, has served as a loyal companion to Radley over his five years as a travelling hermit, serving equally well as a cane to aid walking as it did to defend himself from optimistic predators or highwaymen; never did they expect it to be wielded with such expertise. Knowledgeable of many arts regarding the staff, Radley can adapt to his foe, but most generally encompass dazzling displays of spinning and flowing blows, favouring fast, precise strikes, and sometimes even just impressive feats designed to intimidate before it is even necessary to resort to violence.
Powers/Abilities:
Chi Augmentation:
Through concentration, Radley can harness his spiritual energy, his chi, to augment his physical and mental capabilities. He can keep this up for close to an hour, though he would have to rest for twice a long afterwards to regain his strength, and would be significantly weakened during this period. During the augmentation, Radley’s eyes turn an iridescent blue.
Typically, Radley possesses a fair amount of strength for his build, as he exercises regularly practising with his staff and fists. With the use of his spiritual energy, he is capable of augmenting his strength to incredible levels, and of augmenting his speed, so that he can reach roughly thrice the speed he normally achievable by sprinting full out, though this cannot be maintained for long. However, he can fortify his stamina, and run tirelessly at a slower pace, which drains him less. The tissues of Radley’s body can also be hardened. While still vulnerable to physical injury, Radley is able to use his spiritual energy to augment his durability, so that he is able to withstand blunt forces or glancing blows from swords, though a strong enough blow could still break his bones and a sword or spear could cut or impale him if the strike is direct.
[Locked]
Chi Channelling:
By summoning his chi and focusing it into his hand or staff, he can make both extremely strong and resistant to damage, and pain in the case of his hand, and strike using either with far greater force than otherwise possible. This technique is simply a psychic channelling of concentrated natural energy, so it requires a calm mind and time. There is a visual indicator of this channelling, as his staff or hand will begin to glow blue, and then seem to burst into a heatless blue flame.
Biography:
Radley Oerheart was the son of a one Lord Cumberdale Oerheart, a profitable salt merchant he came into his fortune through hard work and no small amount of luck, monopolising business in the Western port city of Caerhern, which his manor overlooks. He is renowned for being a cold man, as sharp as a flint; with a cutting edge, he would just as readily shave your neck with, as he would slit your throat, so long as it benefitted him. Perhaps something he was equally renowned for as his debauchery was his lechery; men feared to let their wives near him, as he was undeniably a handsome man, with money, who also happened to ooze charisma: an envy-invoking trifecta. Even more so when he did not attempt to hide the fact that he was a serial adulterer, not even his first wife. She committed suicide, not out of spite or jealousy, but for fear of what might happen to her if she tried to run of, or, heavens forbid, asked Lord Cumberdale to leave.
However, before she killed herself, she handed her newborn baby boy to a travelling scholar, asking him to take him far away, paying him with a hefty purse of silver, but it may not have been necessary; the sheer maternal fear in the woman’s eyes meant that he could hardly refuse. Cumberdale was outraged when he found out that his only legitimate song was missing, odd, considering the number, he no doubt had in the city under another man’s unknowing protection. The scholar, well versed in eastern geography, knew a place where the babe would be safe, and took him many miles to seek sanctuary in a Temple, belonging to the Bugwa Monks. They took the child in when the scholar asked, not wanting or needing an explanation.
And so that it where Radley Oerheart spent his youth. He was different to the other children who were there, even though there were very few; his eyes were wider and closer to circles than their narrow slits, and his skin was paler. These differences meant that he was shunned and picked, as is the petty and sometimes cruel nature of children. Radley withdrew into himself slightly, not trying to make friends, and sometimes even actively avoiding new faces. The teachers, who taught the children how to read and write, thought he was merely being petulant and acting up when he would not read a word or answer a question.
In his late childhood, different teachers taught them how to fight, with bare fists and various weapons, and about the spirituality behind this art. Radley was able to actively engage in this, enjoy the sparing sessions, even though he was sometimes scolded for being too rough. Having no friends, this practise consumed most of his time, when he was not doing chores around the temple, and soon he became a prominent student, if not the best, and Radley became proud of himself and his achievements.
But pride comes before the fall, and one day, after enduring numerous harsh whispers behind his back, but purposefully loud enough to here, and “accidental” blows during movement exercises, Radley broke, and took it out on his teacher, asking why what they were doing was so repetitive. The teacher was unnervingly calm at this outburst, and said it was to learn the forms entirely, in muscles and not just mind. Radley insisted that he had, and challenged the teacher to a duel, saying that if he won, he would be taught something new, and if he lost, he would do as the teacher instructed. The teacher obliged, and they duelled with wooden swords, and Radley won the duel, to the shock of everyone present; at times he seemed to be a blur, and there was a glint in his eyes that might have just been a trick of the light.
The teacher, having agreed to the bargain, kept his part, instructing him to go to Shaiden Ginji and ask for his tutorage. Radley did, though he had his doubts, as the man was very old, with a crooked back and deep wrinkles. When he asked Shaiden, the old man asked to duel him. Radley hardly though it a fair fight, and it wasn’t, not for Radley at least; the old man used a staff that meant Radley could never get close with his wooden sword, getting swept, jabbed and redirected without even raising a defence. Radley was so shocked at his defeat, and at the skill of the old man, that he begged him to teach him, vouching to abandon the sword, which he had believed to be the king of weapons, and follow the way of the staff. The old man agreed, and told him the story of Jearom; He was considered the best swordsman to have ever lived, and it was said he fought over 10,000 times in battle and single combat. He only lost once, and it was to a lowly farmer with a quarterstaff.
Radley spent the next ten years under Shaiden’s tutelage, during which he became a far calmer and reserved person. At the end of this period, Shaiden gave him his staff, and said there was no more he could be taught, so Radley should travel the world, and discover what lessons it had in store for him. He travelled over the next five years, his trail taking him across three continents, with many nights spent under the stars in a humble camp. Over this time, he amounted a small amount of money, but had very little desire for expensive things, only travelling into towns to spend it when he could find not prey with his bow he had purchased near the start of his expedition, or if the weather was particularly nasty.
After many years of travelling, helping those in need and learning all that he could, he found himself in Alvera, he heard rumours of a mist that could leave entire towns in ruins. Whilst not entirely believing this, he did not entirely dismiss it either, and began looking for answers.I am still wanting to join, but my CS may be up late tomorrow.
I am interested. Will a skill system exit, or will it be more free-form? And from that, are only vanilla spells allowed for mages, or can people come up with their own?
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