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This will be a collection of my characters in different rps. I'm not including a few repeating character types and mostly just including recently made characters from a few RPs because as it is they mostly embody all my characters as I tend to just make variations of previous characters to fit different RPs with the exception of 2 female characters in Ascention, anyway, now for the main event, Here be mah peeps.
Ascention 3 return to chaos:
Age: 23
Bloodline: Dragon / Nayu
Appearance: 6'1"
Black, short, and messy hair with a close cut and thin beard that goes along the edge of his jaw. He has a stern face with hazel eyes with slit pupils that hold a piercing gaze. Its not that he's always angry, it just seems to be his neutral face. His whole right arm is ragged looking and closer to a red-black shade than the rest of him and reached the base of his neck, his right pectoral, his right shoulder-blade, and down a few ribs. This gruesome sight would at first seem like a terrible wound, but upon further more professional inspection, would reveal an evil taint, which seemed to be spreading further across his chest. This is the caused by necromancy and where he pulls his blood magic from. His horns, if he still had them, would have grown from his temples and swept back with his hair, however, there are just two stumps there now, cut away so that his heritage would be easier to conceal. He also has a a draconic tail that he hides in his sash that goes around his waist, and two scars on his back where his wings used to be.
Personality:
Mostly quiet and reserved until he gets to know somebody well enough to trust them, Dremmick is not very sociable. He is very cold in his decisions due to his kill or be killed lifestyle as of recent years, however he is not normally sadistic unless they really deserve it. Once he gets to know someone and trust them however, he does start to open up and talk more, even make a few facial expressions and moods other than contempt! While mildly pessimistic, he tries to think most things through as much as possible before doing them, though understands how the best laid plans can still go to waste. He does have a 'Doc' complex to where if there was any way he thought he could be able to save one of his comrades, he will not stop to save them till they were safe or he could say he died trying. Also, if he does talk to people, he is a proponent of dry or dark humor, and as a bit of mental recoil to bad puns. Not the person to ask for opinions.
Attire:
He wears a large black hood that covers most of his face when worn save for his eyes. When the hood is down, it distorts the silhouette of his shoulders and hangs loosely about his head, nearly covering the whole neck and almost reaching the lower end of his jaw. He has a cotton shirt he wears under a layered leather vest, both of which are sleeveless for ease of movement. His whole right arm is covered in bandages up past the shoulder, covering up the dark arm entirely. A dark red sash is wrapped around his waist with the loose ends hanging at his left hip. It tops off a dark gray loose fitting pants that have a few random patches here and there for having to fix various imperfections in the fabric. The pants ended tucked into some leg wraps that ran from his upper calf, just below the knees, to the ankles, in which it run under the foot to keep secure. As for his feet, he wears some cloth shoes the leave the large toe separate and leather pads on the bottom for grip and protection.
Gear:
Group:
While currently unaligned, he joined the Therosi for the sheer purpose of learning blood magic
Physique:
A little thinner than average with a lean build. His right arm however (the one wrapped in bandages), looks to be eerily thinner than his left.
Abilities:
Acrobatic- His build helps in giving him a light and solid frame with superb muscle control, agility, and dexterity. Has knowledge of medicine and first aid.
Soul Sight- through concentration he can see souls and life energy with his bare eyes. When using this ability, his irises will start to glow.
Spells:
Necromancy - the ability to siphon, absorb, and distribute life force between bodies.
Blood magic - the ability to move, use, and replicate his own blood for medical uses or to form objects. Objects can range from weapons, projectiles, light barriers, etc. This is channeled thought his necrotic right arm and various wounds that don't go completely healed since he obtained the cursed magic. Upon running out of magic energy will it will start to feed off of life force. Overuse of this magic will cause the necrotic curse at his arm to spread as he would need to siphon life force and apply it to himself and further his decent into a lich.
Experience/backstory:
Motivation: To find out why he was revived and to find his family's killers
Birthplace: Was raised roaming around between the countries, never stayingin one place save for the couple of years he spent with his aunt and uncle outside of Fotia
Extra Info:
-Dremmick really doesn't care for people that much. Unless he finds a group to fight for and for once actually align himself with, he could care less who he kills. After all, neither sides of the spectrum were really his friends in past experiences.
-He detests liches. He sees them as overcome with greed and their own power of life and death and believes that they should be eliminated given the opportunity. After all, they aren't the most hospitable people and he blames their abuse of power with the cause of necromancy to become as hated s it has, which in his mind, is the cause of his family's death in the first place.
-Loves breadsticks, and carries a small supply wherever he goes. they are thin, buttery, lightly salted, and crunchy. where he gets them from at random times, nobody knows.
Acquired Equipment
Sacred Bark Light Armor - A very light weight set of armor made from sacred tree bark and wool. The bark on its outer layer catches sharp projectiles and is made from a tree bark known for being one of the least penetrable trees. It does not however have an advantage over slash attacks.
Old Dagger of Aki - An old, chipped yet still refined dagger. It serves little purpose as a dagger and rather is a ceremonial piece left from an old assassin turned Taxis hero who died long ago. When hit against another stone it sparks aflame and stays on fire until put out. If held too long the wielder may be burned.
A small to medium sized staff with steel on its ends. It allows one to direct their magic into spheres of influence. Allowing Conjurers to amplify their summons and animators to direct their influences on larger beings.
Buen - A middle aged Beige colored horse with cyan markings that moves fastest at night and can see in the dark.
Age: 20
Bloodline: Lassa / slightly sol
Appearance:
Tanned skin from being on land with red eyes and hair with various shades of blue ranging from light to faded colors. She has a spiral horn at the top of her forehead just past her hairline and two large finned ears, accompanied by a finned tail and fins at her calves. Her hands and feet are both webbed with the webbing on her hands reaching the first knuckle away from the palm. She were's little cloths as she spends a lot of time in the water or basking in the sun, her Sol heritage calling for more sun than others of her bloodline. Due to this fraction of sol heritage, she can breath air and walk on land with fairly normal looking feet, save for the webbing.
Personality:
Easily embarrassed and self conscious about her beauty, she would wear more clothes if it didn't restrict her swimming and didn't make her feel sick from blocking the sun for too long. Normally quite happy and easygoing, she makes friends easily though she is a bit too trusting of others and has a hard time telling when someone is lying unless its really obvious.
Attire:
A large flowing sleeve that goes past her hand and can be pinned up at her elbow if she needs to. A bikini top and a decorative cloth sash that goes with another cloth piece that acts as an undergarment. various intricate silver jewelry around her neck, arm, top of her sleeve, tail, and right thigh. She wears no shoes.
Gear:
She has a very heavy solid steel staff that has two thick enchanted glass orbs on the ends full of water. Lifting it for her doesn't require much as she really lets it float next to her or rides it around like a witch on a broomstick, manipulating the water in the staff. She also carries extra water around with her in a small tank behind her with a water rune inside of it to generate more water through magic, hanging from a belt and made of the same type of glass as the orbs on her staff.
Group: Tearia
Physique:
5'3" and curvy. She is well 'gifted' and has a small waist with eye catching hips atop sturdy legs. Her strong legs and tail, as well has her fins make up for her assets which would normally make someone slower when swimming.
Abilities:
Siren's song - Can put to sleep or calm enemies or wildlife. Hasn't practiced in this as much as most people her age but is still adept at it as she has been singing since she was young. Can calm or put to sleep most people or wildlife save for severely strong willed opponents and larger dragons.
Water manipulation - can control water within 30 feet of herself, but not skilled enough to manipulate blood, or pressurized it enough to cut through objects.
Spells:
Water healing - using water can heal ailments and injuries with time and focus. She has to practice on new ailments to learn how to heal them properly. This is more of a static out of the fight heal as it is stronger and has the ability to heal grave wounds given the time.
Water bandage - like water healing but more of an on the field first aid. she can put a patch of water that will heal wounds over time or stabilize an ally till proper care can be taken. she can use multiple ones at a time.
Water barriers - can make a heavy barrier of water to defend groups of people. The smaller the barrier the stronger and vise versa. Unless the attack is stronger than the barrier, it blocks both incoming and outgoing physical and elemental attacks. Barriers take a massive drain on her magic and are used as last resorts against large attacks
Enchantment of water - can put various enchantments on water such as increasing speed (green), strength (red), endurance (yellow), or concentration (blue). Can only enchant a few drinks at a time and the person must consume the enchanted drink to take effect, much like a potion.
Experience/backstory:
Lynn was born with the ability to breath both air and in water, as well as walk on land. This was due to her grandfather being a Sol and her inheriting a handful of Sol traits from him, including the need for the sun. She grew up with both parents in Tearia, her father a guard, who had taught her how to defend herself, and her mother worked at an infirmary, which is where Lynn started to learn he healing magic. As she grew up, she had the desire like many young girls to be queen, but when she noticed that it wasn't likely due to her age as she got older and continued to work at the infirmary to become a healer, she seemed at a loss for motivation. She has so far lived a fairly normal life in the protection of Tearia and was fairly doted upon by her father when he came back from deployments. She was becoming bored with her life and started exploring around Teearia and its shores more and more. That's when most the people she knew told her that since she was born with the ability to go on land, she was destined to traverse the land under the Tearian banner. While her parents weren't exactly thrilled, she was ecstatic at the opportunity to adventure and support her country like her parents. So, finding new purpose, she went out to explore the lands. First stop she made was the festival currently going on in Vrondi, enjoying the festivities and performing songs in hopes of earning some money for the road.
Motivation: To explore the lands outside of Tearia.
Birthplace: Tearia
Extra Info:
-Familiar with Tearian technology
-likes to sing, and does it well.
Feather - A strong horse with feathers in its hair. It has the ability to climb rocky mountain like terrain and has decent speed. However its stamina is only at its highest when in high altitudes.
Short Name: Allard
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Sex Preference: Straight
Blood: Oro
Group: none
Birthplace: Gaia
Appearance:
He is 10'4" weighing in at around 800lbs. He has a solid body with a little bit of fat, giving his muscles a slightly smoother look instead of a hard-cut one, with a large skeletal structure and a clear large muscle structure. He has a broad and barreled chest and a squared jaw with a trimmed beard. His hair is dark brown, short but clean cut with two horns sweeping back with his hair on each side or a total of four. His eyes are green and very kind. He wears durable tan slacks that have a cargo pocket made into the left side for various items, and a plain white shirt, which sleeves end above the biceps. He has a two belt harness that runs across the front of his chest and his back. He has a shoulder cape on his right shoulder that is dark red on the inside and black on the outside studded into his harness by a leather pad, and just another pad on his left. both pads are lightly fur cushioned. His left arm is covered by what can be described as a large grey arm warmer that fits a little loosely on the arm and is held up by a small belt above his bicep. He has a regular glove with a thin cuff on his right hand. He has two decrepit wings on his back that if restored would give him an enormous wingspan.
Personality:
A hearty and friendly man who is always willing to help someone in need, almost to a fault. When he sets his mind on something he will see it through to the end. He always falls for the damsel in distress routine, but oddly enough, is somewhat shy around women. He would rather fight with his fists before having to resort to his weapons, believing that fighting to the death should only be required if absolutely necessary. Though this isn't to say he doesn't enjoy a good fight, in fact, he finds them quite stress relieving and even fun most of the time. He holds a bit of a grudge against the Therosi and the hierarchy and military of the Fotian kingdom, but doesn't hold it against its people. He has an incredible resolve to finish what he starts and a strong willpower that keeps him driving. Not being raised in any sort of higher status, he sees himself as a common man, never claiming to be anything more. Once his trust is earned, he would willingly give his life for his fellow friends. The need to defend what is important to him comes first. Because to him, if it came down to it, if his sacrifice would allow others to live, then it is his place to do so.
Background:
Experience:
Years of fighting since he was a child for sport in his village, to military service, to the many years he thrived in Fotian arenas.
Motivation: To find a life worth setting down for. Destroy the Therosi if given the chance.
Weapons:
His father's large, heavy, two handed sword, more like a steel bladed oar for common men. Instead of a traditional two sided blade, it has a single blade. The upper most portion of the handle is protected with a bar in front of the hand, while the lower portion is unguarded and ends in a curve like an ax handle. Its sheath is a rectangular wooden scabbard with a fur lined inside and metal bindings at both ends. It attaches to the harness at the back and the sword is sheathed from the right.
An over-sized heavy cutlass, though instead of the traditional curve, it has a straight blade. Its sheath is at his right hip.
His fists, which he will most likely use unless he has to resort to a weapon.
Abilities:
Having forsaken all forms of magic, Allard focused on tempering the mind and body, hardening his body against wear and tear, both physical and magical, beyond that of his peers, and increasing his willpower tremendously.
Due to the reconstruction of his left arm while he was incapacitated, it now mimics the physical condition of his right arm, meaning that it cannot be damaged, but will mimic the condition of his other arm. This allows his to block attack with his bare left arm.
Shadow skill, which is a handless form of fighting that amplifies strength and speed several times over.
extra:
Allard was there to witness the fight in the arena with Czi, he thought the use of poison was disturbing and that the man deserved to die for how wicked he was. He was grateful to hear that she had escaped execution.
Age: 21
Bloodline: Tyro / Nayu
Personality:
Silent,observant, and fast to make critical decisions should she need to. She seems cold and ruthless unless she is around her son, who she loves dearly. She is a bit curious at times and due to her being a mute, she uses body language and sign language to communicate more than anything.
Physique: 5'5" Slender and curved with thick, well built, legs and flattering hips to top them off.
Attire: Same as the picture above
Gear:
clawed fire gauntlets - they cap off her already sharp claws in a metal that can withstand high temperatures. when concentrating fire into these claws they become red hot to potentially do more damage vs armor and flesh.
spiked fire greaves - help concentrate the flow of fire to produce faster speeds. even though she is already fast and can manipulate he fire for high amounts of thrust, these increase that ability, and offer a few spikes for added melee options.
Group: Dolofon
Abilities:
high speed, agility, dexterity, and reflexes
seduction
fire manipulations:
Jetstream -can conjure a gout of flame from her open palm, feet, and fingertips. also enables flight.
Combustion - ability to completely set something on fire when held
Explosion - with a fist, builds up thermal energy that is released upon opening the hand.
Spells:
Doppelganger - creates a false double that can think and act on its own as if there were two of her, takes up real space and can make physical contact. Is automatically dismissed after ten minutes or if destroyed by damaging it enough.
History:
Experience:
Four years of training and studying with the Dolofon, which enabled her to sharpen her combat skills as well as learn to make a physical copy of herself with her doppelganger spell. During her travels from target to target, she still has to contend with different creatures and bandits alike. Her style leans heavily on quick brutal strikes and high speed and agility to dodge attacks and evade pursuit. If not in an ambush, she tries to sneak her way into the target's vicinity, and making a quick getaway after the kill. During her time as being part of a harem, she learned the inner workings of Fotian nobility, as well as the layouts of a few of their homes when the harem traveled with their noble husband as if a big parade. At the time, Shye was studying the places to see where should could escape the easiest without detection, even though the plans never worked out in the end.
Birthplace: Fotia
pet: Nix
Extra Info:
She is a mute, she can no longer physically speak through a curse placed on her, though she at one time had quite the beautiful voice.
Her son, which she left with the name Bidzil, takes heavily after his mother save for the mop of silvery white hair on his head.
Shye has rejected both the name of her family and of her husband, leaving herself currently with no other name.
The young furred dragon was named Nix by Bidzil.
phew, that's all from that rp
next up
Printed guns, melded metal - An experimental GM-less Cyberpunk RP
Name: Jarred Greaves
Appearance:
Personality:
Pretty carefree and mischievous, often putting his nose where it doesn't belong. One of the few things he doesn't care for discussing is his body, which he makes sure to never reveal to anyone. Although he is a bit of a joker, it doesn't keep him from knowing when to act a bit more serious.
Cyberware:
Weapons:
Gear:
Armour: None aside from his skinweave.
Background:
Jarred grew up with a love for creating things and working with computers, becoming a young prodigy when it came to engineering and programming before even going into college. He quickly got a job at a minor corporation in prosthetic development called Paramount Prosthetics. When noticing the quality of his creations, another larger company tried contacting Jarred to come work for them. This didn't sit well with the one he already worked with, and they devised a way to try to keep the rights to his work for good. One day, on the way to showcase some of his work, the autopilot vehicle took a turn through a seedier part of town, and the vehicle was bombed by what seemed to be random thugs looking to steal some tech. It turned out that they were actually hired by the CEO of the corporation he worked for. The plan was to kill him in what seemed to be an unfortunate accident, blaming the outlaws for trying to steal tech as their alibi. The explosion should have killed him, leaving very little of his body left. However, a ripperdoc from the corporation he was thinking about joining found him first, who was on the way to his place of work with an armed team to 'extract him' from his old company. Tipped off by a paid informant, they knew to find him here instead. Luckily for them, all they had to do was deal with a few run of the mill outlaw trash to get to him. The doc ended up putting him back together, what was left anyway, and recreate the majority of his body artificially. Though none of it was fancy, and it would require upkeep, the tech implanted into him should keep him alive for now. In return, the ripperdoc wanted him to go into the combat zones and acquire whatever high cost or valuable scrap from other corporations he could from the area so that he could bring it back and try to reverse engineer their tech. He threatened Jarred owed his life to the corporation's service since they saved him, that if he didn't the doc would blow him sky high, informing him of an explosive inside of him that ran a system check regularly for the parts he placed in him. If any were missing during that check, 'boom'.
For the time being, Jarred agreed. However, a few months went by, and Jarred had put more and more research into figuring out the ins and outs of the bomb inside him during his off time. When the doc wasn't around, Jarred snuck into his office and hacked into his old computer, stealing any data the doc had on him. With the information he found, he was able to access the coding for the bomb using administrative rights to keep it from thinking someone else accessed it, and shortly after deactivating it, he removed it from his body. With a little time to spare, he ended up tinkering with the bomb a bit more before leaving. While he walked out the door of the main building, the doc was returning, cussing him out for still being here instead of out collecting more scrap. The Doc continued saying he was lucky that he hadn't detonated the bomb in him yet. Jarred apologized and started leaving in a hurry. It wasn't till he was about a block away that he knew the doc had accessed his computer, because when he did, there was a large explosion blowing out a few windows on the floor the doc's office was on. Sounded like freedom to him. Now, time to go find some old friends from work... but first, back to the combat zone for some.... supplies.
more to come later!
Ascention 3 return to chaos:
Age: 23
Bloodline: Dragon / Nayu
Appearance: 6'1"
Black, short, and messy hair with a close cut and thin beard that goes along the edge of his jaw. He has a stern face with hazel eyes with slit pupils that hold a piercing gaze. Its not that he's always angry, it just seems to be his neutral face. His whole right arm is ragged looking and closer to a red-black shade than the rest of him and reached the base of his neck, his right pectoral, his right shoulder-blade, and down a few ribs. This gruesome sight would at first seem like a terrible wound, but upon further more professional inspection, would reveal an evil taint, which seemed to be spreading further across his chest. This is the caused by necromancy and where he pulls his blood magic from. His horns, if he still had them, would have grown from his temples and swept back with his hair, however, there are just two stumps there now, cut away so that his heritage would be easier to conceal. He also has a a draconic tail that he hides in his sash that goes around his waist, and two scars on his back where his wings used to be.
Personality:
Mostly quiet and reserved until he gets to know somebody well enough to trust them, Dremmick is not very sociable. He is very cold in his decisions due to his kill or be killed lifestyle as of recent years, however he is not normally sadistic unless they really deserve it. Once he gets to know someone and trust them however, he does start to open up and talk more, even make a few facial expressions and moods other than contempt! While mildly pessimistic, he tries to think most things through as much as possible before doing them, though understands how the best laid plans can still go to waste. He does have a 'Doc' complex to where if there was any way he thought he could be able to save one of his comrades, he will not stop to save them till they were safe or he could say he died trying. Also, if he does talk to people, he is a proponent of dry or dark humor, and as a bit of mental recoil to bad puns. Not the person to ask for opinions.
Attire:
He wears a large black hood that covers most of his face when worn save for his eyes. When the hood is down, it distorts the silhouette of his shoulders and hangs loosely about his head, nearly covering the whole neck and almost reaching the lower end of his jaw. He has a cotton shirt he wears under a layered leather vest, both of which are sleeveless for ease of movement. His whole right arm is covered in bandages up past the shoulder, covering up the dark arm entirely. A dark red sash is wrapped around his waist with the loose ends hanging at his left hip. It tops off a dark gray loose fitting pants that have a few random patches here and there for having to fix various imperfections in the fabric. The pants ended tucked into some leg wraps that ran from his upper calf, just below the knees, to the ankles, in which it run under the foot to keep secure. As for his feet, he wears some cloth shoes the leave the large toe separate and leather pads on the bottom for grip and protection.
Note that the description above is slightly different but the weapons are mostly the same with the addition of a ring on the end of the handle for the knife.
Gear:
- A rope dart, normally rolled up and hanging from the front left of his sash.
- A large karambit, sheathed at his back, just above his butt pack (explained below), drawn right handed.
- A sword breaker, sheathed at his back as well, bundled with his karambit and drawn left handed. The bundle is held onto the back of the vest. If you don't know what a sword-breaker is, this is a good example:well...for pc maybe.
- He has a heavy canvas cloth harness that runs between his shirt and vest. It holds up what could be considered a leather belt with a built in butt pack with three pouches. The middle contains a roll of bandages, a small surgical blade, a bottle of alcohol (sometimes in drink form if no pure alcohol is available), and a tourniquet. His left smaller pouch holds various vials of crushed herbs or liquids for medicinal uses and antidotes. Finally the right pouch holds a notepad, charcoal pencil, a tiny small vial of ink, and a pen. This pack sits just above his sash, though it tends to hang over it in the back.
- The notepad contains information gathered on Dremmick's travels, mostly of few important details to remember and plenty of info on plants along with their various uses and properties such as what is poisonous and what can be used medically.
Group:
While currently unaligned, he joined the Therosi for the sheer purpose of learning blood magic
Physique:
A little thinner than average with a lean build. His right arm however (the one wrapped in bandages), looks to be eerily thinner than his left.
Abilities:
Acrobatic- His build helps in giving him a light and solid frame with superb muscle control, agility, and dexterity. Has knowledge of medicine and first aid.
Soul Sight- through concentration he can see souls and life energy with his bare eyes. When using this ability, his irises will start to glow.
Spells:
Necromancy - the ability to siphon, absorb, and distribute life force between bodies.
Blood magic - the ability to move, use, and replicate his own blood for medical uses or to form objects. Objects can range from weapons, projectiles, light barriers, etc. This is channeled thought his necrotic right arm and various wounds that don't go completely healed since he obtained the cursed magic. Upon running out of magic energy will it will start to feed off of life force. Overuse of this magic will cause the necrotic curse at his arm to spread as he would need to siphon life force and apply it to himself and further his decent into a lich.
Experience/backstory:
Dremmick had grown up with his parents until about the age of twelve years old. His family studied in necromancy and would travel the world to heal the sick and revive people who had recently met an untimely end. This backfired however when they revived a man who was found murdered in an alley. Although the life energy was pulled from an animal, when the man reported to the guard that he had been murdered and then resurrected, the first thing that they did after capturing the murderer was hunt down the Valswei family. While most clients the Valswei family undertook were fine with the prospect of necromancy bringing their loved ones back to life, even if it was at the hands of Dragon and Nayu couple, it wasn't necessarily legal either. Dremmick's parents left him with his aunt and uncle while they were on the run. Unfortunately, they didn't make it that long, and were publicly hung for dealing in the dark arts of lichdom. Which wasn't really true since they didn't steal life force to strengthen themselves as a lich would.
Three years had passed and while Dremmick's heart still ached for his parents, he knew there was nothing he could do. His aunt and uncle discouraged the use of necromancy and, as botanists, taught him the healing and medicinal values of herbs and other plants instead. However, he would still tinker with the magic behind their back when he was alone. Being so close to Tyro territory, they removed his horns by cutting them off as close to his head as possible so that he was harder to recognize as being mostly dragon, like his father. In public, he always wore a hood to hide the stumps that were left behind. He took the same vow as his parents, to never resurrect someone who had been dead for over a few hours, as decomposition would start and retrieving the soul would also prove to become nearly impossible, never to take the life force from other people, and never turn his gifts toward lichdom.
Two years later he was slowly became adapt at transferring life forces and reviving small animals such as birds with the life force from rats that he caught around the house. He even learned over time how to slightly control his control However, this time of peace was surely not to last. One day, there was a knock on the door, and the moment Dremmick's uncle answered, he was impaled by a sword as a group of men stormed the house. they didn't look like the regular guards that took his parents, and better armed than common bandits. Mercenaries perhaps? The aunt quickly tried to escape with Dremmick, but she was not as fast and bid him to go on without her. He refused while turning around to help his aunt up onto a horse when an arrow cam flying past his shoulder, striking is aunt in the heart. Dremmick panicked as he tried to help her but it was too late. He didn't have the time to revive her. He couldn't leave her here either, there had to be something he could do. He knew what it was, but he had to break a promise.
Apologizing to his parents quietly as he stood back up, Dremmick faced the men following him. His plan was to steal their life energy and restore his aunt's which was quickly fading, but the hastily dawn out plan failed, drastically. Not having practiced on humans before and with hatred in his heart, he did more than just remove their life force. The first two men gave up more than some life energy, their very soul was ripped from them and crushed, but just before he could heal his aunt, two arrows struck him in the chest, and he did what only seemed natural to keep himself alive, he healed himself. He could feel a burning start at his right arm, but he ignored it and kept fighting. Eventually his mind faded and everything went black.
When he awoke, he noticed that his home was nothing but ashes. He didn't even remember it catching fire, but there it was, already burnt out, nothing left. When he used his arm to help himself stand up, there was a shock of pain. He looked down a his arm to see it bloody, shriveled and heavily injured, he thought it was that burning sensation from earlier, but something told him it wasn't only his blood, and that's when he looked around and saw nearly eight dead men that surrounded him. He took a step back in a mix of fear and disgust. He turned away to look for the horses, but they weren't there anymore, however, his aunt was still there, deathly still. He limped over as fast as he could. He tried to think of something fast to save his aunt, and in the rush of things didn't think of the time that may have gone by since she died. Or the fact that he didn't have any other life energy to use anymore but his own, but he tried anyway. He was purely trying to will any form of life energy into her while screaming for her to get up. Suddenly, the wound on his arm seemed to grow, and color was coming back to his aunts face. Dremmick put the agonizing pain at the back of his mind when he thought he was reviving his aunt, but just as soon as he stopped trying to heal her, the color faded back out of the vessel. He was not strong enough, or skilled enough, to revive a human, especially after this amount of time, even if it did cost him more of his own bodies energy. He fell to the side as the exhaustion caught back up to him and it was all he could do just to keep his eyes open.
He heard shouting from what looked like four knights approaching the scene. "Over here! We found the necromancer!" His eyes shut, and hen they reopened he could momentarily see them surveying the scene. "My God, all this from that young one there?" More time seemed to slip by as he reopened his eyes one last time to see an older bearded knight approach him. "It is a sorry lot you drew young one," he said with a solemn face, "May the afterlife be kinder to your tortured fate." With that he raised his battle ax over his shoulder. Dremmick held his hand up as if that would stop the inevitable, but the ax fell, and all went silent.
---
The next thing Dremmick knew, he was waking up in what seemed to be a cave. There were arcane makings all around him, but the place seemed abandoned a long time ago. He looked at his arm and noticed the heavy scaring and unnatural look had seemed to reach up a little past his shoulder now. But it was also then that he noticed... it was a little breezy. His face flushed red and looked around again to make sure nobody was there, but then he noticed some clothes and gear in the corner of the cave, next to a dying lantern. He put on the clothes and noticed the leather vest and harness fit him well, and since he was a little chilled he put the hood on as well. He rummaged through the pouches and noticed very familiar sets of herbs and antidotes, and more specifically, his aunts notebook with her initials on the outside, S.V., Silvia Valswei. Dremmick waited there for weeks to no avail before deciding move on. He didn't know what happened after he died, but he had to find answers. And after that, kill the ones responsible for the attacks on his family.
Six years have passed and since then Dremmick has practiced his magic and grown more adept, but still hides it and never uses it publicly, however, he still rarely disregards the rule to take life energy from people as an attack should the emergency arise. This has caused the plagued area at his arm to spread further, and now it goes past the shoulder and covers his right pec and right shoulder blade, as well as reaching a few ribs further downward and up close to the base of the neck. He has had more practice in medicines and poisons while becoming fairly accomplished in physical fighting as well. He has even partaken in a few mercenary and assassination groups in order to find information on his attackers and earn money to support himself, as well as practice his own form of blood magic during a brief enlistment with the Therosi, channeling it through his cursed arm.
Three years had passed and while Dremmick's heart still ached for his parents, he knew there was nothing he could do. His aunt and uncle discouraged the use of necromancy and, as botanists, taught him the healing and medicinal values of herbs and other plants instead. However, he would still tinker with the magic behind their back when he was alone. Being so close to Tyro territory, they removed his horns by cutting them off as close to his head as possible so that he was harder to recognize as being mostly dragon, like his father. In public, he always wore a hood to hide the stumps that were left behind. He took the same vow as his parents, to never resurrect someone who had been dead for over a few hours, as decomposition would start and retrieving the soul would also prove to become nearly impossible, never to take the life force from other people, and never turn his gifts toward lichdom.
Two years later he was slowly became adapt at transferring life forces and reviving small animals such as birds with the life force from rats that he caught around the house. He even learned over time how to slightly control his control However, this time of peace was surely not to last. One day, there was a knock on the door, and the moment Dremmick's uncle answered, he was impaled by a sword as a group of men stormed the house. they didn't look like the regular guards that took his parents, and better armed than common bandits. Mercenaries perhaps? The aunt quickly tried to escape with Dremmick, but she was not as fast and bid him to go on without her. He refused while turning around to help his aunt up onto a horse when an arrow cam flying past his shoulder, striking is aunt in the heart. Dremmick panicked as he tried to help her but it was too late. He didn't have the time to revive her. He couldn't leave her here either, there had to be something he could do. He knew what it was, but he had to break a promise.
Apologizing to his parents quietly as he stood back up, Dremmick faced the men following him. His plan was to steal their life energy and restore his aunt's which was quickly fading, but the hastily dawn out plan failed, drastically. Not having practiced on humans before and with hatred in his heart, he did more than just remove their life force. The first two men gave up more than some life energy, their very soul was ripped from them and crushed, but just before he could heal his aunt, two arrows struck him in the chest, and he did what only seemed natural to keep himself alive, he healed himself. He could feel a burning start at his right arm, but he ignored it and kept fighting. Eventually his mind faded and everything went black.
When he awoke, he noticed that his home was nothing but ashes. He didn't even remember it catching fire, but there it was, already burnt out, nothing left. When he used his arm to help himself stand up, there was a shock of pain. He looked down a his arm to see it bloody, shriveled and heavily injured, he thought it was that burning sensation from earlier, but something told him it wasn't only his blood, and that's when he looked around and saw nearly eight dead men that surrounded him. He took a step back in a mix of fear and disgust. He turned away to look for the horses, but they weren't there anymore, however, his aunt was still there, deathly still. He limped over as fast as he could. He tried to think of something fast to save his aunt, and in the rush of things didn't think of the time that may have gone by since she died. Or the fact that he didn't have any other life energy to use anymore but his own, but he tried anyway. He was purely trying to will any form of life energy into her while screaming for her to get up. Suddenly, the wound on his arm seemed to grow, and color was coming back to his aunts face. Dremmick put the agonizing pain at the back of his mind when he thought he was reviving his aunt, but just as soon as he stopped trying to heal her, the color faded back out of the vessel. He was not strong enough, or skilled enough, to revive a human, especially after this amount of time, even if it did cost him more of his own bodies energy. He fell to the side as the exhaustion caught back up to him and it was all he could do just to keep his eyes open.
He heard shouting from what looked like four knights approaching the scene. "Over here! We found the necromancer!" His eyes shut, and hen they reopened he could momentarily see them surveying the scene. "My God, all this from that young one there?" More time seemed to slip by as he reopened his eyes one last time to see an older bearded knight approach him. "It is a sorry lot you drew young one," he said with a solemn face, "May the afterlife be kinder to your tortured fate." With that he raised his battle ax over his shoulder. Dremmick held his hand up as if that would stop the inevitable, but the ax fell, and all went silent.
---
The next thing Dremmick knew, he was waking up in what seemed to be a cave. There were arcane makings all around him, but the place seemed abandoned a long time ago. He looked at his arm and noticed the heavy scaring and unnatural look had seemed to reach up a little past his shoulder now. But it was also then that he noticed... it was a little breezy. His face flushed red and looked around again to make sure nobody was there, but then he noticed some clothes and gear in the corner of the cave, next to a dying lantern. He put on the clothes and noticed the leather vest and harness fit him well, and since he was a little chilled he put the hood on as well. He rummaged through the pouches and noticed very familiar sets of herbs and antidotes, and more specifically, his aunts notebook with her initials on the outside, S.V., Silvia Valswei. Dremmick waited there for weeks to no avail before deciding move on. He didn't know what happened after he died, but he had to find answers. And after that, kill the ones responsible for the attacks on his family.
Six years have passed and since then Dremmick has practiced his magic and grown more adept, but still hides it and never uses it publicly, however, he still rarely disregards the rule to take life energy from people as an attack should the emergency arise. This has caused the plagued area at his arm to spread further, and now it goes past the shoulder and covers his right pec and right shoulder blade, as well as reaching a few ribs further downward and up close to the base of the neck. He has had more practice in medicines and poisons while becoming fairly accomplished in physical fighting as well. He has even partaken in a few mercenary and assassination groups in order to find information on his attackers and earn money to support himself, as well as practice his own form of blood magic during a brief enlistment with the Therosi, channeling it through his cursed arm.
Motivation: To find out why he was revived and to find his family's killers
Birthplace: Was raised roaming around between the countries, never stayingin one place save for the couple of years he spent with his aunt and uncle outside of Fotia
Extra Info:
-Dremmick really doesn't care for people that much. Unless he finds a group to fight for and for once actually align himself with, he could care less who he kills. After all, neither sides of the spectrum were really his friends in past experiences.
-He detests liches. He sees them as overcome with greed and their own power of life and death and believes that they should be eliminated given the opportunity. After all, they aren't the most hospitable people and he blames their abuse of power with the cause of necromancy to become as hated s it has, which in his mind, is the cause of his family's death in the first place.
-Loves breadsticks, and carries a small supply wherever he goes. they are thin, buttery, lightly salted, and crunchy. where he gets them from at random times, nobody knows.
Acquired Equipment
Sacred Bark Light Armor - A very light weight set of armor made from sacred tree bark and wool. The bark on its outer layer catches sharp projectiles and is made from a tree bark known for being one of the least penetrable trees. It does not however have an advantage over slash attacks.
Old Dagger of Aki - An old, chipped yet still refined dagger. It serves little purpose as a dagger and rather is a ceremonial piece left from an old assassin turned Taxis hero who died long ago. When hit against another stone it sparks aflame and stays on fire until put out. If held too long the wielder may be burned.
A light blue cloth rolled up with golden runes along its surface. When worn it constantly heals the affected area. It also contains magical distortions or anomalies. Immune to fire. Durable as steel.
A small to medium sized staff with steel on its ends. It allows one to direct their magic into spheres of influence. Allowing Conjurers to amplify their summons and animators to direct their influences on larger beings.
Buen - A middle aged Beige colored horse with cyan markings that moves fastest at night and can see in the dark.
Age: 20
Bloodline: Lassa / slightly sol
Appearance:
Tanned skin from being on land with red eyes and hair with various shades of blue ranging from light to faded colors. She has a spiral horn at the top of her forehead just past her hairline and two large finned ears, accompanied by a finned tail and fins at her calves. Her hands and feet are both webbed with the webbing on her hands reaching the first knuckle away from the palm. She were's little cloths as she spends a lot of time in the water or basking in the sun, her Sol heritage calling for more sun than others of her bloodline. Due to this fraction of sol heritage, she can breath air and walk on land with fairly normal looking feet, save for the webbing.
Personality:
Easily embarrassed and self conscious about her beauty, she would wear more clothes if it didn't restrict her swimming and didn't make her feel sick from blocking the sun for too long. Normally quite happy and easygoing, she makes friends easily though she is a bit too trusting of others and has a hard time telling when someone is lying unless its really obvious.
Attire:
A large flowing sleeve that goes past her hand and can be pinned up at her elbow if she needs to. A bikini top and a decorative cloth sash that goes with another cloth piece that acts as an undergarment. various intricate silver jewelry around her neck, arm, top of her sleeve, tail, and right thigh. She wears no shoes.
Gear:
She has a very heavy solid steel staff that has two thick enchanted glass orbs on the ends full of water. Lifting it for her doesn't require much as she really lets it float next to her or rides it around like a witch on a broomstick, manipulating the water in the staff. She also carries extra water around with her in a small tank behind her with a water rune inside of it to generate more water through magic, hanging from a belt and made of the same type of glass as the orbs on her staff.
Group: Tearia
Physique:
5'3" and curvy. She is well 'gifted' and has a small waist with eye catching hips atop sturdy legs. Her strong legs and tail, as well has her fins make up for her assets which would normally make someone slower when swimming.
Abilities:
Siren's song - Can put to sleep or calm enemies or wildlife. Hasn't practiced in this as much as most people her age but is still adept at it as she has been singing since she was young. Can calm or put to sleep most people or wildlife save for severely strong willed opponents and larger dragons.
Water manipulation - can control water within 30 feet of herself, but not skilled enough to manipulate blood, or pressurized it enough to cut through objects.
Spells:
Water healing - using water can heal ailments and injuries with time and focus. She has to practice on new ailments to learn how to heal them properly. This is more of a static out of the fight heal as it is stronger and has the ability to heal grave wounds given the time.
Water bandage - like water healing but more of an on the field first aid. she can put a patch of water that will heal wounds over time or stabilize an ally till proper care can be taken. she can use multiple ones at a time.
Water barriers - can make a heavy barrier of water to defend groups of people. The smaller the barrier the stronger and vise versa. Unless the attack is stronger than the barrier, it blocks both incoming and outgoing physical and elemental attacks. Barriers take a massive drain on her magic and are used as last resorts against large attacks
Enchantment of water - can put various enchantments on water such as increasing speed (green), strength (red), endurance (yellow), or concentration (blue). Can only enchant a few drinks at a time and the person must consume the enchanted drink to take effect, much like a potion.
Experience/backstory:
Lynn was born with the ability to breath both air and in water, as well as walk on land. This was due to her grandfather being a Sol and her inheriting a handful of Sol traits from him, including the need for the sun. She grew up with both parents in Tearia, her father a guard, who had taught her how to defend herself, and her mother worked at an infirmary, which is where Lynn started to learn he healing magic. As she grew up, she had the desire like many young girls to be queen, but when she noticed that it wasn't likely due to her age as she got older and continued to work at the infirmary to become a healer, she seemed at a loss for motivation. She has so far lived a fairly normal life in the protection of Tearia and was fairly doted upon by her father when he came back from deployments. She was becoming bored with her life and started exploring around Teearia and its shores more and more. That's when most the people she knew told her that since she was born with the ability to go on land, she was destined to traverse the land under the Tearian banner. While her parents weren't exactly thrilled, she was ecstatic at the opportunity to adventure and support her country like her parents. So, finding new purpose, she went out to explore the lands. First stop she made was the festival currently going on in Vrondi, enjoying the festivities and performing songs in hopes of earning some money for the road.
Motivation: To explore the lands outside of Tearia.
Birthplace: Tearia
Extra Info:
-Familiar with Tearian technology
-likes to sing, and does it well.
Feather - A strong horse with feathers in its hair. It has the ability to climb rocky mountain like terrain and has decent speed. However its stamina is only at its highest when in high altitudes.
Short Name: Allard
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Sex Preference: Straight
Blood: Oro
Group: none
Birthplace: Gaia
Appearance:
He is 10'4" weighing in at around 800lbs. He has a solid body with a little bit of fat, giving his muscles a slightly smoother look instead of a hard-cut one, with a large skeletal structure and a clear large muscle structure. He has a broad and barreled chest and a squared jaw with a trimmed beard. His hair is dark brown, short but clean cut with two horns sweeping back with his hair on each side or a total of four. His eyes are green and very kind. He wears durable tan slacks that have a cargo pocket made into the left side for various items, and a plain white shirt, which sleeves end above the biceps. He has a two belt harness that runs across the front of his chest and his back. He has a shoulder cape on his right shoulder that is dark red on the inside and black on the outside studded into his harness by a leather pad, and just another pad on his left. both pads are lightly fur cushioned. His left arm is covered by what can be described as a large grey arm warmer that fits a little loosely on the arm and is held up by a small belt above his bicep. He has a regular glove with a thin cuff on his right hand. He has two decrepit wings on his back that if restored would give him an enormous wingspan.
Personality:
A hearty and friendly man who is always willing to help someone in need, almost to a fault. When he sets his mind on something he will see it through to the end. He always falls for the damsel in distress routine, but oddly enough, is somewhat shy around women. He would rather fight with his fists before having to resort to his weapons, believing that fighting to the death should only be required if absolutely necessary. Though this isn't to say he doesn't enjoy a good fight, in fact, he finds them quite stress relieving and even fun most of the time. He holds a bit of a grudge against the Therosi and the hierarchy and military of the Fotian kingdom, but doesn't hold it against its people. He has an incredible resolve to finish what he starts and a strong willpower that keeps him driving. Not being raised in any sort of higher status, he sees himself as a common man, never claiming to be anything more. Once his trust is earned, he would willingly give his life for his fellow friends. The need to defend what is important to him comes first. Because to him, if it came down to it, if his sacrifice would allow others to live, then it is his place to do so.
Background:
At 32 years old, Allard had settled in a small Oro community away from the mountains in Gaia where land was fertile enough for farming. He, his small family, a wife, young daughter, and a teenage son, and a few other farming families in this area would grow crops to harvest. Once the fields were harvested, they would then form a caravan to go back to the capitol of Gaia for sale. This, however, was considered dangerous to most Gaians as it left the protection of the mountains behind, but was seen as noble undertaking. This was proven true as an unknown force of warriors raided and burned their farms to the ground. Little did Allard know at the time of the attack that it was Therosi slavers 'in the market' for new slaves. Being simple farming folk the families fell quickly and an of those who did surrender were cut down. Allard....didn't surrender. When Allard was young he was in the Gaian military, earning himself experience fighting in conflicts as a foot-soldier and against large beasts. With his father's sword in hand he fought back to protect his family, but it wasn't enough. Their magic was strong and their numbers were stronger. Allard lost that day, more than what he could ever imagine. His wife and son were killed and his daughter was taken from him, his arm ruined by a magic spell that wrought it useless, and he was enslaved and sold to become entertainment for the Fotian arena. A gladiator to live and die by the blade, wings destroyed so he couldn't run. A Fotian 'healer' of sorts in the arena dungeons cast a spell on his arm that would mimic the condition of his right arm so that it would function again.
In the arena, Allard rarely killed, and that made the overseers, Fotian nobles, of the arena furious as they couldn't seem to force him to actually do anything, so one day, they devised a plan to punish him. All they needed was time. Five years pass and Allard has still not fallen in the arena. He was a marvel, undefeated even by plots to finally snuff him out for wining too much. He spent mauch of his spare time watching and learning from the different gladiators, especially one named Ziton. Allard spent some time getting to know the other gladiator who had a cell across from his, more often than anything just sharing stories about their pasts so that they could relax and think about the good days. Allard would often find him scribbling on his wall at night when when the guard were least active. One night he seemed to be fairly cheerful as he seemed to figure something out, but Allard had fallen asleep before he figured out what it was. He seemed to disappear that night, not one story being the same. Some had him escaping, other dying for trying, and more saying that he may one day come back for the rest of them, but these were all gladiator tales passed throughout the dungeons. Allard knew that he had escaped. When Ziton was gone, they rearranged the slave cells after a new shipment came in and Allard was moved to Ziton's old cell. When in there, Allard began to study the writings. There were links to the writings on the wall and different places throughout the arena and slave quarters. Riddles to a ritual, that of which would open a portal to escape through. But it was very complex and time was short, it could be years until he found out how to complete the ritual.
Another five years passed and word of another unbeatable opponent had emerged, now matched up against Allard. When they squared away in the arena, the slender figure before him could only belong to that of a woman, though she was well built. He couldn't make out her face however, as it was hidden behind a hood at the moment. He himself was required to wear a helmet this time, which he wasn't honestly fond of. The overseers called for the match to start and the woman surged forward, what seemed to be a large two handed straight bladed cutlass in hand. It was at this moment, when the hood flew back, that Allard froze in place, save for an arm that reached out, "Hildebrand... my daughter." She didn't hear him, her face looking void of any emotion, a broken spirit. Her blade ran him through and he took a step back from the hit, but didn't fall. Cheers erupted through the stadium but Allard ignored them as he took off his helmet. "Hildie, what have they done ta you." This time it was his daughter that was shocked, and instantly started to tear up, not sure what to think and what she had just done. "Now, now child, don't cry. I am here." Allard couldn't hold back his own tears as he pulled her in to embrace her, both ignoring the blood from his wound. Her condition was terrible, battered and bruised. Why would they have put her in the arena? Was it because of him!? He looked up to the overseer, "YOU! This is your doing! I will not fight this opponent! This is my daughter! I forfeit!" the cost of forfeit of a slave could vary well mean execution, but Allard did not care. If it meant his daughter could go on, he did not mind.
"Very well, archers!" The nobleman lifted his arm to give the command. "FIRE" finally this man would pay for making a fool out of him and this arena. But the archers were not told to aim at Allard when this command would be given...
"NNNOOOOOOO!" Allard screamed as he rushed to his daughter. He tried to cover her but it was too late and from too many directions. "Hildie! Speak ta me girl! C'mon!" The crowd fell silent as they took in what just happened. This was not what they had come to see and they were clearly not thrilled with the out come, though the overseer was laughing historically. Hilda tried to speak to he father but words were failing her, and soon, what little light that was rekindled in her young eyes....were gone. Allard slowly rested her down. and stood up, arrows and a sword still embedded in him. "You....BASTARD SON OF WHORE!" Allard drew his own blade out and people started to panic. Allard, finding strength he didn't know he had, jumped out of the arena and onto the encircling guard platform that the archers used, which led to the seats for the nobles. Allard slaughtered every guard with ease as he made his way to the overseer, now trying to run, but it was far too late. Even as more arrows slammed into him, for him, they weren't nearly deep enough to stop him. A large knight tried to step in to protect him but ended up getting his skull crushing inside of his helmet by the mighty grasp of Allard's free hand. He grabbed the puny tyro noble as he tried to run and slammed him into back into his chair. He planted his own sword into the ground next to him and pulled his daughter's blade from his torso. "YOU WILL DIE BY HER BLADE, WORM!"
"NO! PLEASE SHOW MER-" that was all he got out as the blade impaled the man from the top of his skull, through his body, to the seat he sat in. He lifted the skewered man from the chair and swung the sword, casting the body off into the arena below. He picked up his sword and jumped down, landing on his lifeless corpse for good measure. Nobody there who opposed him were left alive, and all the others fled. He sheathed his sword and put her sword in it's sheath. He reached down and gently picked up his daughter's lifeless body, cradling it in his arms. "C'mon baby girl. Let's go home." He brought her over to the slave cells. He began going back over the ritual quickly, knowing he had to figure out the last part of the ritual or he would never escape and have to face the chopping block.
The last part of the riddle read, "The end of my oppression is the end of all, we'll stand as equals and never fall. Should we wish this life to end, where shall we then make amends? When all the arrangements have been placed, follow my lead and do make haste. Take an oath, forsake thy ways, and look onward unto brighter days. Answer my riddle, say a prayer, and wherever you need, thou shall soon be there. Take a blade and rake thine hand, for this pact we make for the promised land."
Allard nodded as the puzzle came together, over the years he had done what was needed to be done in previous riddles, spilling his own blood in the places foretold around the arena, a blood lock of sorts. Now he had to answer the question to his riddle in the form of prayer, more importantly an oath that would bind him for the rest of his life. He knew Ziton, and he knew what it would have to be, and Allard was prepared for what was required. Allard pulled Hildebrand's blade out and cut his hand open, dropping blood on to a faintly marked spot on the floor. He then picked his daughter up again and closed his eyes. "By my blood, I shall declare, to forsake my magic to pay my fare. I'll move forward and with a magicless hand, now take to the destined land." Light shown all around, as it slowly enveloped him, stripping him of all abilities to use magic or manipulation, however, blessing him with the ability to endure much more punishment from the world around him. Then at the end, t took him away from the hell he had lived for the past ten years.
He thought the portal may carry his failing body and his daughter back to Gaia where they could both die in their homeland, but instead it had taken them to Vrondi territory, where he had collapsed from fatigue. He was picked up by the Taxis, who were notified by some traveling Sol people, who had tended to his many wounds and taken him to Vrondi, in awe that he was still alive if even by a thread. His daughter however didn't make it, and left Allard alone to tend to her burial, in which he finally made a grave dedicated to the rest of his family as well. Since then, he has spent his time doing odd jobs here and there around town, helping wherever someone needed some muscle to get a job done, and spending his nights in a small out of the way, back alley bar. He kept his daughter's sword to always remind him of his past, and vowed never to draw his weapons again unless the cause is just, though he still carries his two swords everywhere he goes.
In the arena, Allard rarely killed, and that made the overseers, Fotian nobles, of the arena furious as they couldn't seem to force him to actually do anything, so one day, they devised a plan to punish him. All they needed was time. Five years pass and Allard has still not fallen in the arena. He was a marvel, undefeated even by plots to finally snuff him out for wining too much. He spent mauch of his spare time watching and learning from the different gladiators, especially one named Ziton. Allard spent some time getting to know the other gladiator who had a cell across from his, more often than anything just sharing stories about their pasts so that they could relax and think about the good days. Allard would often find him scribbling on his wall at night when when the guard were least active. One night he seemed to be fairly cheerful as he seemed to figure something out, but Allard had fallen asleep before he figured out what it was. He seemed to disappear that night, not one story being the same. Some had him escaping, other dying for trying, and more saying that he may one day come back for the rest of them, but these were all gladiator tales passed throughout the dungeons. Allard knew that he had escaped. When Ziton was gone, they rearranged the slave cells after a new shipment came in and Allard was moved to Ziton's old cell. When in there, Allard began to study the writings. There were links to the writings on the wall and different places throughout the arena and slave quarters. Riddles to a ritual, that of which would open a portal to escape through. But it was very complex and time was short, it could be years until he found out how to complete the ritual.
Another five years passed and word of another unbeatable opponent had emerged, now matched up against Allard. When they squared away in the arena, the slender figure before him could only belong to that of a woman, though she was well built. He couldn't make out her face however, as it was hidden behind a hood at the moment. He himself was required to wear a helmet this time, which he wasn't honestly fond of. The overseers called for the match to start and the woman surged forward, what seemed to be a large two handed straight bladed cutlass in hand. It was at this moment, when the hood flew back, that Allard froze in place, save for an arm that reached out, "Hildebrand... my daughter." She didn't hear him, her face looking void of any emotion, a broken spirit. Her blade ran him through and he took a step back from the hit, but didn't fall. Cheers erupted through the stadium but Allard ignored them as he took off his helmet. "Hildie, what have they done ta you." This time it was his daughter that was shocked, and instantly started to tear up, not sure what to think and what she had just done. "Now, now child, don't cry. I am here." Allard couldn't hold back his own tears as he pulled her in to embrace her, both ignoring the blood from his wound. Her condition was terrible, battered and bruised. Why would they have put her in the arena? Was it because of him!? He looked up to the overseer, "YOU! This is your doing! I will not fight this opponent! This is my daughter! I forfeit!" the cost of forfeit of a slave could vary well mean execution, but Allard did not care. If it meant his daughter could go on, he did not mind.
"Very well, archers!" The nobleman lifted his arm to give the command. "FIRE" finally this man would pay for making a fool out of him and this arena. But the archers were not told to aim at Allard when this command would be given...
"NNNOOOOOOO!" Allard screamed as he rushed to his daughter. He tried to cover her but it was too late and from too many directions. "Hildie! Speak ta me girl! C'mon!" The crowd fell silent as they took in what just happened. This was not what they had come to see and they were clearly not thrilled with the out come, though the overseer was laughing historically. Hilda tried to speak to he father but words were failing her, and soon, what little light that was rekindled in her young eyes....were gone. Allard slowly rested her down. and stood up, arrows and a sword still embedded in him. "You....BASTARD SON OF WHORE!" Allard drew his own blade out and people started to panic. Allard, finding strength he didn't know he had, jumped out of the arena and onto the encircling guard platform that the archers used, which led to the seats for the nobles. Allard slaughtered every guard with ease as he made his way to the overseer, now trying to run, but it was far too late. Even as more arrows slammed into him, for him, they weren't nearly deep enough to stop him. A large knight tried to step in to protect him but ended up getting his skull crushing inside of his helmet by the mighty grasp of Allard's free hand. He grabbed the puny tyro noble as he tried to run and slammed him into back into his chair. He planted his own sword into the ground next to him and pulled his daughter's blade from his torso. "YOU WILL DIE BY HER BLADE, WORM!"
"NO! PLEASE SHOW MER-" that was all he got out as the blade impaled the man from the top of his skull, through his body, to the seat he sat in. He lifted the skewered man from the chair and swung the sword, casting the body off into the arena below. He picked up his sword and jumped down, landing on his lifeless corpse for good measure. Nobody there who opposed him were left alive, and all the others fled. He sheathed his sword and put her sword in it's sheath. He reached down and gently picked up his daughter's lifeless body, cradling it in his arms. "C'mon baby girl. Let's go home." He brought her over to the slave cells. He began going back over the ritual quickly, knowing he had to figure out the last part of the ritual or he would never escape and have to face the chopping block.
The last part of the riddle read, "The end of my oppression is the end of all, we'll stand as equals and never fall. Should we wish this life to end, where shall we then make amends? When all the arrangements have been placed, follow my lead and do make haste. Take an oath, forsake thy ways, and look onward unto brighter days. Answer my riddle, say a prayer, and wherever you need, thou shall soon be there. Take a blade and rake thine hand, for this pact we make for the promised land."
Allard nodded as the puzzle came together, over the years he had done what was needed to be done in previous riddles, spilling his own blood in the places foretold around the arena, a blood lock of sorts. Now he had to answer the question to his riddle in the form of prayer, more importantly an oath that would bind him for the rest of his life. He knew Ziton, and he knew what it would have to be, and Allard was prepared for what was required. Allard pulled Hildebrand's blade out and cut his hand open, dropping blood on to a faintly marked spot on the floor. He then picked his daughter up again and closed his eyes. "By my blood, I shall declare, to forsake my magic to pay my fare. I'll move forward and with a magicless hand, now take to the destined land." Light shown all around, as it slowly enveloped him, stripping him of all abilities to use magic or manipulation, however, blessing him with the ability to endure much more punishment from the world around him. Then at the end, t took him away from the hell he had lived for the past ten years.
He thought the portal may carry his failing body and his daughter back to Gaia where they could both die in their homeland, but instead it had taken them to Vrondi territory, where he had collapsed from fatigue. He was picked up by the Taxis, who were notified by some traveling Sol people, who had tended to his many wounds and taken him to Vrondi, in awe that he was still alive if even by a thread. His daughter however didn't make it, and left Allard alone to tend to her burial, in which he finally made a grave dedicated to the rest of his family as well. Since then, he has spent his time doing odd jobs here and there around town, helping wherever someone needed some muscle to get a job done, and spending his nights in a small out of the way, back alley bar. He kept his daughter's sword to always remind him of his past, and vowed never to draw his weapons again unless the cause is just, though he still carries his two swords everywhere he goes.
Experience:
Years of fighting since he was a child for sport in his village, to military service, to the many years he thrived in Fotian arenas.
Motivation: To find a life worth setting down for. Destroy the Therosi if given the chance.
Weapons:
His father's large, heavy, two handed sword, more like a steel bladed oar for common men. Instead of a traditional two sided blade, it has a single blade. The upper most portion of the handle is protected with a bar in front of the hand, while the lower portion is unguarded and ends in a curve like an ax handle. Its sheath is a rectangular wooden scabbard with a fur lined inside and metal bindings at both ends. It attaches to the harness at the back and the sword is sheathed from the right.
An over-sized heavy cutlass, though instead of the traditional curve, it has a straight blade. Its sheath is at his right hip.
His fists, which he will most likely use unless he has to resort to a weapon.
Abilities:
Having forsaken all forms of magic, Allard focused on tempering the mind and body, hardening his body against wear and tear, both physical and magical, beyond that of his peers, and increasing his willpower tremendously.
Due to the reconstruction of his left arm while he was incapacitated, it now mimics the physical condition of his right arm, meaning that it cannot be damaged, but will mimic the condition of his other arm. This allows his to block attack with his bare left arm.
Shadow skill, which is a handless form of fighting that amplifies strength and speed several times over.
extra:
Allard was there to witness the fight in the arena with Czi, he thought the use of poison was disturbing and that the man deserved to die for how wicked he was. He was grateful to hear that she had escaped execution.
Age: 21
Bloodline: Tyro / Nayu
Personality:
Silent,observant, and fast to make critical decisions should she need to. She seems cold and ruthless unless she is around her son, who she loves dearly. She is a bit curious at times and due to her being a mute, she uses body language and sign language to communicate more than anything.
Physique: 5'5" Slender and curved with thick, well built, legs and flattering hips to top them off.
Attire: Same as the picture above
Gear:
clawed fire gauntlets - they cap off her already sharp claws in a metal that can withstand high temperatures. when concentrating fire into these claws they become red hot to potentially do more damage vs armor and flesh.
spiked fire greaves - help concentrate the flow of fire to produce faster speeds. even though she is already fast and can manipulate he fire for high amounts of thrust, these increase that ability, and offer a few spikes for added melee options.
Group: Dolofon
Abilities:
high speed, agility, dexterity, and reflexes
seduction
fire manipulations:
Jetstream -can conjure a gout of flame from her open palm, feet, and fingertips. also enables flight.
Combustion - ability to completely set something on fire when held
Explosion - with a fist, builds up thermal energy that is released upon opening the hand.
Spells:
Doppelganger - creates a false double that can think and act on its own as if there were two of her, takes up real space and can make physical contact. Is automatically dismissed after ten minutes or if destroyed by damaging it enough.
History:
She is of noble blood from fotia, though even though a noble family they were fairly poor due to their teribble spending habits. Shye, however, was the illegitimate child of a fling that her mother had with a Nayu male while her father was away, though he wasn't so faithful himself. In an effort to raise their status and to escape the threat of debtors prison with a higher noble, her family, never really caring for her as she was just a reminder of their terrible lifestyle, sold her into that higher noble's harem, which she detested. She had only been sixteen at the time, an adult in most eyes of society, but only just so. Her hatred for this man ran deep, she was never accommodating to him and whenever she spoke of or to him it was with a wicked tongue. The man was truly vile and her thoughts on him were fairly justified, but that didn't mean that it didn't enrage him. Stronger then her at the time, the man thought to teach her a lesson, he beat her for he insolence, and not for the first time. however this time, he forced himself on her, taking what he felt what rightfully his, her purity. Afterwards, he made her a mute so that she couldn't spout such venomous words anymore. He then promptly threw her family into debtors prison anyway, exclaiming to them that they had done nothing to bring filth into his beautiful harem.
Most the other women in the harem felt sorry for her, though some that were closer to their husband felt as if he was quite right in his decisions. She put on a false personality after that point, a submitting one that didn't strike back and did as she was told. What the noble didn't notice that inside her eyes were now the ones of a killer, a broken yet patient soul had awakened and was looking for blood. She kept this up for several weeks. One day, she had actually prepared herself to meet with the noble in bed. He had believed that she may finally be turning around and being more obedient, having broken her of her will. What he didn't know, was that when he went to lay with her, it would be his last. Shye and the noble went missing after that night and it wasn't until a week later that they found his body in an alley, a burnt hole through his neck and his nether regions completely burned away to ash. Shye was never found.
Six moths later, Shye was carrying a baby to an orphanage in Sunfire City, in Vrondi. Shye brought up the bundle, herself covered in a cloak and knocked on the door and waited. Her eyes stayed locked on her child's, vivid yellow like hers. She kissed his forehead and just as she heard the tumblers in the door start to turn, she jumped away, hidden before the woman who answered the door could see her. She cried as she saw the woman take her baby away, but she knew that she would never be able to care for it properly, not as long as she was a criminal in Fotia. Although she wasn't a rich noble, the family was still well known, and she was the first suspect the guard wanted apprehended in the case. She couldn't take care of a child that way, though the Aion should be able to keep him safe. Over the next five years, she visited the orphanage under the cover of night to visit her son. She would bring him gifts, teach him sign language so she could speak with him, and every now and again take him away for the night. If there was anything in the world she cherished, it was her son. What he didn't know though, was what his mother was doing while she was gone.
Shortly after leaving her son at the orphanage in Vrondi, The Dolofon contacted her. They were impressed by her display, and wanted to take advantage of her skills whether she was willing to comply or not. So, for compliance assurance, they kindly wrote a note and left it pegged with a blade at the orphanage's balcony where she frequently waited for her son at night, "Welcome to the ranks of the mighty Dolofon. Kill who we ask, and you and your son will be able to rest peacefully and safely. We will keep in touch." And that is what her life had become, an assassin for the Dolofon, and a coordinator of intel and tactics for any Dolofon troops headed into Fotia.
Most the other women in the harem felt sorry for her, though some that were closer to their husband felt as if he was quite right in his decisions. She put on a false personality after that point, a submitting one that didn't strike back and did as she was told. What the noble didn't notice that inside her eyes were now the ones of a killer, a broken yet patient soul had awakened and was looking for blood. She kept this up for several weeks. One day, she had actually prepared herself to meet with the noble in bed. He had believed that she may finally be turning around and being more obedient, having broken her of her will. What he didn't know, was that when he went to lay with her, it would be his last. Shye and the noble went missing after that night and it wasn't until a week later that they found his body in an alley, a burnt hole through his neck and his nether regions completely burned away to ash. Shye was never found.
Six moths later, Shye was carrying a baby to an orphanage in Sunfire City, in Vrondi. Shye brought up the bundle, herself covered in a cloak and knocked on the door and waited. Her eyes stayed locked on her child's, vivid yellow like hers. She kissed his forehead and just as she heard the tumblers in the door start to turn, she jumped away, hidden before the woman who answered the door could see her. She cried as she saw the woman take her baby away, but she knew that she would never be able to care for it properly, not as long as she was a criminal in Fotia. Although she wasn't a rich noble, the family was still well known, and she was the first suspect the guard wanted apprehended in the case. She couldn't take care of a child that way, though the Aion should be able to keep him safe. Over the next five years, she visited the orphanage under the cover of night to visit her son. She would bring him gifts, teach him sign language so she could speak with him, and every now and again take him away for the night. If there was anything in the world she cherished, it was her son. What he didn't know though, was what his mother was doing while she was gone.
Shortly after leaving her son at the orphanage in Vrondi, The Dolofon contacted her. They were impressed by her display, and wanted to take advantage of her skills whether she was willing to comply or not. So, for compliance assurance, they kindly wrote a note and left it pegged with a blade at the orphanage's balcony where she frequently waited for her son at night, "Welcome to the ranks of the mighty Dolofon. Kill who we ask, and you and your son will be able to rest peacefully and safely. We will keep in touch." And that is what her life had become, an assassin for the Dolofon, and a coordinator of intel and tactics for any Dolofon troops headed into Fotia.
Experience:
Four years of training and studying with the Dolofon, which enabled her to sharpen her combat skills as well as learn to make a physical copy of herself with her doppelganger spell. During her travels from target to target, she still has to contend with different creatures and bandits alike. Her style leans heavily on quick brutal strikes and high speed and agility to dodge attacks and evade pursuit. If not in an ambush, she tries to sneak her way into the target's vicinity, and making a quick getaway after the kill. During her time as being part of a harem, she learned the inner workings of Fotian nobility, as well as the layouts of a few of their homes when the harem traveled with their noble husband as if a big parade. At the time, Shye was studying the places to see where should could escape the easiest without detection, even though the plans never worked out in the end.
Birthplace: Fotia
pet: Nix
Extra Info:
She is a mute, she can no longer physically speak through a curse placed on her, though she at one time had quite the beautiful voice.
Her son, which she left with the name Bidzil, takes heavily after his mother save for the mop of silvery white hair on his head.
Shye has rejected both the name of her family and of her husband, leaving herself currently with no other name.
The young furred dragon was named Nix by Bidzil.
phew, that's all from that rp
next up
Printed guns, melded metal - An experimental GM-less Cyberpunk RP
Name: Jarred Greaves
Appearance:
Personality:
Pretty carefree and mischievous, often putting his nose where it doesn't belong. One of the few things he doesn't care for discussing is his body, which he makes sure to never reveal to anyone. Although he is a bit of a joker, it doesn't keep him from knowing when to act a bit more serious.
Cyberware:
- Neuralware
- Echo Vision - Sonar feed that uses inaudible rapid sonar pings that feed a monocolor real world image into his mind in place of his eyes. Cheaper than replacing his eyes, these pulses are directional to which way he is facing to create a visual cone similar to human eyes.
- Nerve processor - enables movement and function of all non-organic replacement parts as if it wear his own body. linked to the brain
- Implants
- Vial storage - stores different vials of fluid needed for his body to function, including nutrition, lubrication, and another compartment for emergency power cells.
- Kinetic charger - charges his internal power cell through movement.
- Maintenence ports - a number of ports throughout his body for mainenance fluids, a battery port, and a charging port.
- Artificial vocal chords
- Bioware
- Skinweave - medium strength white skinweave that defend up to most pistol and revolver cartridges from doing major damage, however internal damage may still occur. covers all except his face which is just a regular breathable cloth covering.
- Cyberaudio
- Cyberdrums - replacement eardrums that he can adjust the volume on.
- Radio scanner - can listen in on radio broadcasts from simple music stations to secure frequencies in his left ear if he turns it on.
- Cyberlimbs
- prosthetic left leg. Simple design and just handles standard human movement, no frills.
- Left prosthetic arm houses a large capacitor in the forearm. Was a standard arm prosthetic until modified by Jarred. Touching his thumb to his ring and pinky finger make a connection to turn on a small generator in his arm that charges up the capacitor that will unleash its charge to anything that arcs through the tips of his index and middle finger, creating a high voltage stun gun essentially.
Weapons:
- Dual stack 1911 (.45) with one standard 15 round magazine for ease of carrying and two 30 round extended magazines. Has an ergonomic grip, and night sights. Holstered under his left arm under his jacket with the two spare mags under his right.
- Sawed off over and under 12 gauge shotgun with the stock cut down to the grip holstered to his right thigh loaded with buckshot. He has a pouch for extra shells at his back right hip that holds 16 more buckshot in red shells and 8 slugs in a yellow shells.
- Main rifle is an all weather 45/70 lever action rifle. It is modified to to fold in half so that he can conceal it under his coat and behind his back in a sheath he made for it. It also has a modified feed tube that carries four chambers of four cartridges loaded in each chamber. After four shots he rotates to a new chamber and continues. To reload, he releases the tube, stores it, and replaces it with another. He has a total of four tubes, all four holstered in a left thigh rig. He keeps around 10 extra extreme penetration rounds on the left side of his belt, normally used for taking out large game, like elephants, or in his case, heavily armored targets.
- K-bar combat knife sheathed horizontally behind his back, under his coat and attached to his belt.
Gear:
- gas mask with air tank that he can turn on and off for either hazardous or underwater use, otherwise just uses filters which he only places on when needed, carries three.
- Small palm computer with a multi port for varied connections. Has a small screen and fold out keyboard, mainly used for hacking into computers. He uses this instead of an integral device so that if he is counter hacked, it wont be his body that gets hacked.
- Pouch with various tools in it that he carries around to do maintenance on his body.
Armour: None aside from his skinweave.
Background:
Jarred grew up with a love for creating things and working with computers, becoming a young prodigy when it came to engineering and programming before even going into college. He quickly got a job at a minor corporation in prosthetic development called Paramount Prosthetics. When noticing the quality of his creations, another larger company tried contacting Jarred to come work for them. This didn't sit well with the one he already worked with, and they devised a way to try to keep the rights to his work for good. One day, on the way to showcase some of his work, the autopilot vehicle took a turn through a seedier part of town, and the vehicle was bombed by what seemed to be random thugs looking to steal some tech. It turned out that they were actually hired by the CEO of the corporation he worked for. The plan was to kill him in what seemed to be an unfortunate accident, blaming the outlaws for trying to steal tech as their alibi. The explosion should have killed him, leaving very little of his body left. However, a ripperdoc from the corporation he was thinking about joining found him first, who was on the way to his place of work with an armed team to 'extract him' from his old company. Tipped off by a paid informant, they knew to find him here instead. Luckily for them, all they had to do was deal with a few run of the mill outlaw trash to get to him. The doc ended up putting him back together, what was left anyway, and recreate the majority of his body artificially. Though none of it was fancy, and it would require upkeep, the tech implanted into him should keep him alive for now. In return, the ripperdoc wanted him to go into the combat zones and acquire whatever high cost or valuable scrap from other corporations he could from the area so that he could bring it back and try to reverse engineer their tech. He threatened Jarred owed his life to the corporation's service since they saved him, that if he didn't the doc would blow him sky high, informing him of an explosive inside of him that ran a system check regularly for the parts he placed in him. If any were missing during that check, 'boom'.
For the time being, Jarred agreed. However, a few months went by, and Jarred had put more and more research into figuring out the ins and outs of the bomb inside him during his off time. When the doc wasn't around, Jarred snuck into his office and hacked into his old computer, stealing any data the doc had on him. With the information he found, he was able to access the coding for the bomb using administrative rights to keep it from thinking someone else accessed it, and shortly after deactivating it, he removed it from his body. With a little time to spare, he ended up tinkering with the bomb a bit more before leaving. While he walked out the door of the main building, the doc was returning, cussing him out for still being here instead of out collecting more scrap. The Doc continued saying he was lucky that he hadn't detonated the bomb in him yet. Jarred apologized and started leaving in a hurry. It wasn't till he was about a block away that he knew the doc had accessed his computer, because when he did, there was a large explosion blowing out a few windows on the floor the doc's office was on. Sounded like freedom to him. Now, time to go find some old friends from work... but first, back to the combat zone for some.... supplies.
more to come later!
