Well, @Jotunn Draugr, first, Welcome to the arena. Secondly, might I suggest you join the arena chat or the arena HQ threads to inquire about finding someone to spar with you. The interest check section really don't generate much interaction and if you are serious about getting into the arena community please join us where the locals hang out.
Haha, well Skallagrim, first, thanks for the welcome and info!
Face: Dark green scales compose Jormun's outer shell. Two sharp red eyes rest on either side of his long, rough face. Long fangs protrude from the front of his massive jaw. His huge gills sway on either side of his head, as he patrols the deep sea.
Body: A long, scaly, winding, serpentine form, with sharp spinal protrusions along his back, and a massive, spiny fin at the end of his thrashing tail.
Hair: Dyed amber, shaved down the middle, with a short ponytail on either side.
Face: Pale and pudgy, making her look younger than she really is, with high cheek bones, sleepy eyes, and excessively plucked amber eyebrows. Her dark eyes have a betraying innocence to them.
Build: Slim, and somewhat fit.
Other Notable Features: Her skin has a mild, yellowish tan, but her face is powdered to maintain an excessively pale complexion.
Equipment:
Head: Red Kerchief and Aviator Sunglasses Shoulders: Leather Bandolier Torso: Thick Leather Jacket Undershirt: White T-Shirt Arms: Studded Leather Vambraces Legs: Baggy Denim Jeans Feet: Steel-Toed Boots
Primary Weapon: Boom-Kitty & Sassy-Cat Two shiny .44 Magnum revolvers, with gold-plated handles.
Secondary Weapon: "Schwing!" A long, rusty machete, with a leather-bound handle.
Additional Weapons: -10 steel-tipped darts, stolen from a local bar -1 switchblade -1 hunting knife -2 nail bombs -50 .44 Magnum bullets -20 .22 LR bullets -1 .22 LR High Standard Pistol
Abilities:
Psycho-Vision Hellcat removes her glasses, and her eyes dart around at a rapid speed, mentally locking-on all targets in her field of view. She's then able to fire at them with flawless accuracy, without using her gun's sights. Her vision goes blurry for a moment after she's done this.
Cross-Eyed Killer Hellcat is able to move her eyes independent of one another, looking in two different directions, and using the sights of two guns at once.
Scentaholic Hellcat has a flawless memory of smellscapes. She's able to identify her position by the smells around her, and identify any target by its scent.
Partial Deafness & Nerve Damage Years of shooting guns indoors have seriously damaged Hellcat's hearing. On top of this, excessive body and head trauma, and overexposure to the elements, have severely reduced her ability to feel. This, in her mind, is an asset, because it means she's no longer phased by sharp pain, and no longer stunned by shock-waves and loud noises.
Social Crocodile Hellcat is able to burst into tears on command. This, coupled with her almost-childlike appearance, causes many individuals to completely lower their guard, opening them up to an easy attack.
Non-Combat Items: -1 pack of cigarettes -2 lighters -2 books of matches -1 bristled metal pole (for cleaning gun barrels) -1 tin of wax -3 rags -1 bottle of hairspray
Hair: Long blond hair flows down her back, decorated with countless beads, feathers and braids.
Face: Long and slender, with gentle features, and one piercing blue eye. Her left eye remains hidden below a wrap of bandages that cuts across her face at a diagonal.
Build: Gunnaya sports bulging muscular thighs, calves and arms, with a slender, toned waist.
Other Notable Features: A complex blue tattoo covers the entire left half of her face. Narrow tattoos, in various shades of blue and black, can be found across her entire body. Three deep scars run down her torso, from under her right arm. Equipment: Head: Thick Fur Hood Shoulders: Thick Fur Cloak Torso: Thick Fur Shirt Undershirt: N/A Arms: Iron Plated Leather Vambrace Legs: Long Fur Skirt Hands: Thick Fur Gloves Feet: Thick Fur Boots
Primary Weapon: Staff of the Medicine Woman A long, thick quarterstaff, made of solid oak, and tipped with steel bands. The skulls of various birds and rodents dangle from one end, tied by string and rope.
Secondary Weapon: Axe of the Ancients A thick, iron war axe, with leather bindings around the handle and an iron spike protruding from either end. Celtic carvings decorate either side of the head. Haunted with the souls of fallen warriors, in shrieks in agony when swung.
Additional Weapons: -1 Yew Longbow -2 Quivers -60 Iron-Tipped Arrows
Abilities:
Cry of the Skymonger Gunnaya is able to perfectly emulate the shrieks of various birds, summoning them to her aid.
Friend of the Valkyries Gunnaya calls her flocks of trained ravens to her side, commanding them as hunting and battle companions.
Feast of the Valkyries Gunnaya uses singing and the scent of rotten meat to send her ravens into a suicidal rage, swarming and dive-bombing anything around her.
Njordsdottir Gunnaya calls upon the fury of various ocean and sky spirits, summoning a ferocious storm of wind and rain. In climates of dust, sand, or powdered snow, this can seriously obstruct vision and mobility.
Alchemy Materials:
-2 Vials of Mimsblood Mimsblood, a unique mixture made by Gunnaya, numbs all pain and constricts damaged blood vessels, preventing the drinker from bleeding out.
-1 Flask of Flametongue Mead This brew remains hot to the touch at all times, and super-heats the drinker's body, protecting them from any amount of cold weather.
-3 Vials of Potent Poison
-5 Vials of Corrosive Acid
-2 Vials of Jormungar Jormungar, another Gunnaya original, is a cocktail of highly reactive elements. When exposed to open air, they explode into a cloud of toxic gas, which takes two minutes to fully settle, unless blown away.
-2 Antivenom Herbes (best applied directly to wound)
Non-Combat Items: -1 Leather Bound Book of Spiritual Healing Rituals -1 Blunt Carving Knife -1 Whetstone -1 Spare Bowstring -1 Vial of Wood Stain -1 Satchel of Raw Meat -2 Sticks of Chalk -1 Jar of War Paint
History:
Abandoned as a child, Gunnaya grew up in the woods, gathering berries, and snaring small animals for survival. She made shelters of branches and leaves, and slept beneath animal fur. She experimented with various herbs, fungi, and minerals that she stumbled upon, inventing new remedies for sickness and pain. This healed her body and occupied her mind, keeping her both alive and sane in isolation. Throughout her youth, she remained deep in the wilderness, afraid of the expanding civilization around her. She preferred the company of animals, and spirits she believed were watching over her, protecting her from the elements. As a young adult, however, she came to realize the perks of associating with normal society. She'd construct small sheds and cabins on the edge of town, and present herself as a seer, able to commune with the souls of the dead. Villagers would come to her shack, with offerings, desiring to speak with their lost loved-ones. This was complete nonsense, of course, but it kept her fed, and allowed her to learn about the civilized world, through talking with these people. Her knowledge of herbs, however, did provide a real benefit to the towns she visited. She cured multitudes of sick folk, and became a revered spiritual and political figurehead. Town elders and low-ranking lords would come to her shack, bringing exotic dyes, ancient religious books, and even new materials for her potions. Word of her magical abilities was carried far and wide, and her visitors became wealthier and more frequent. Eventually, a powerful prince came to her, claiming to be haunted by the restless souls of his princedom's graveyard. He promised her great riches, if she could rid him of this curse. She accompanied him back to his princedom, where she stayed the night, so as to hear the spirits he spoke of. Sure enough, as the moon rose, screams began to fill Gunnaya's mind, ringing and echoing all around her. Recoiling from the shock, she fell out of her bed, and landed heavily on the floor. Rising to her feet, she rushed down the hall, to the prince's chambers. Guards stopped her as she approached, asking her business. From behind the door, she could hear the prince gasping and groaning in torment. She explained that she needed to exercise the spirits in his presence, so she was allowed access. She found him flailing on the floor, still asleep. She shook him awake, and demanded that he lead her to the graveyard. Hoisting a thick robe over himself, and calling three guards to his side, he led the way out of the castle's gate, and across town to the graveyard. The five of them entered the yard, a moderately sized block of the town, filled with raised mounds of grass-covered dirt, and simple stone tablets marking each mound. Gunnaya collected herself, and attempted to discern individual voices from amidst the ghastly screams. Sure enough, she heard half a dozen voices, calling her in different directions. Following them one at a time, she came to each of the graves-mounds, in which they resided. She marked them out, and tasked the guards with fetching shovels, and digging these mounds up. The guards did so, and an hour later, the dirt was moved, revealing six petrified coffins. One by one, these coffins were raised from their pits, and placed on the freshly-cut graveyard grass. Gunnaya grabbed one of the shovels, wedged it beneath one of the coffin's lids, and pried it open, revealing a calm, still corpse. She did the same with the other five, and each time, found corpses that remained very much dead. It wasn't the horrific fight Gunnaya was expecting. She turned back to the prince, who had gone pale as parchment. "What troubles you?", she asked. "These bodies remain dead. They are no danger to you." "These men...", the prince whispers, "were buried by my grandfather, sixty years ago. Their bodies remain intact." The prince, shivering in the cold night air, slowly walked over to the nearest coffin. With one hand cupping his mouth and nose, either in horror or disgust, he leaned over and peered at the cold corpse. "Even their clothes and weapons remain untarnished.", he proclaimed, gesturing at a dark, well decorated war axe, laying serenely at the soldier's side. Gunnaya, strode over, and lifted the axe from its resting place, examining its condition. "Who were these men", she inquired. "They were soldiers.", the prince responded plainly. "Is that all?" The prince faltered, composing himself before continuing. "Nay", he said, "They were our people's seers. They healed our sick, and spoke to our fallen on our behalf. When it came time for my grandfather to fight his siblings for inheritance of the kingdom, they were conscripted. All six of them died in battle". "And now they demand peace", Gunnaya finished. "So it would seem." Still holding the old weapon, Gunnaya closed her eyes in thought. The six voices grew louder in her mind, shouting with a great anger. "The prince remains unwed", they hissed. "The last of a tyrannical bloodline. End it! End it! Sever the lineage! Cut the head of the snake! Cleave him in two!" Louder, and more insistent, the voices grew. Their shrieks became painful, even excruciating. Gunnaya needed silence. With all of her being, she was driven. She had to find an escape to this endless noise. Raising the axe above her head, she swung around, and slashed downward with all her might. The axe blade buried itself in the prince's head with a mighty crunch. He collapsed into a heap on the ground. The awe-stricken guards gaped at the act for but a moment, before drawing their swords and charging the attacker. One by one, she hacked through them, with an inhuman strength that was not her own. The voices sighed in relief, and dissipated, leaving dead silence. Gunnaya stood there, four bodies laying around her, still leaking scarlet blood onto the green grass. Entire minutes later, standing alone in the night, the full effect of her actions washed over her. Trembling from the shock, she bolted out of the graveyard, through the empty town streets, and out into the surrounding countryside. The axe stayed firmly clasped in her grasp. Days of traveling later, her feet aching from the journey, she returned one of her long-abandoned shacks, in the woods that encompassed a small village. Here she stayed, contemplating the risk of retaliation from the princedom. With their ruler dead, and given the supernatural context of the event, she concluded that the townsfolk would be too occupied to seek her out and exact revenge. Certainly not for a while, at least. Besides, this shack wasn't the one she had been summoned from. It was unlikely the princedom knew the locations of her previous homes. The axe remained in her possession. For one reason or another, she hadn't the heart to part with it. On cold nights, she could still hear the soft voices of those fallen soldiers, showering her with thanks and praise. She tried her best to find comfort in this.
Hair: A long, thick black mane, with streaks of grey hair sprouting from the roots.
Facial Hair: A tattered, unkempt mess, flowing down to his chest, and over each shoulder.
Face: Below a protruding hairless brow, two faded, disjointed eyes stare out in random directions. Encircling these lifeless eyes are large, red burn-marks, that cover much of his face. His nose is hooked and crooked, the result of being broken before. His lips are dry and tight, occasionally opening to reveal false, metallic teeth. His complexion is sickly and grey.
Build: Large and muscular, with slouched gorilla-esque shoulders and forearms.
Other notable features: The palms of his hands, and soles of his feet are severely burned, leaving them covered in thick, dark, leathery skin. His eyes appear completely blinded, yet his hair is kept greased backward, out of his face.
Fighting styles:
Unarmed: While able to overpower most opponents with raw strength, Sigurd prefers to properly counter their blows and strike weak-points, having been trained in hand-to-hand combat since childhood. However, if the opponent presents themself as a reasonable threat, he doesn't hesitate to discard all form and simply pummel them into the ground.
Longsword/Bastard Sword: It is a rare sight to see Sigurd wield a longsword in both hands. He prefers to handle it as though he were fencing with an oversized cutlass. This, coupled with his naturally long reach, grants him a considerable range advantage over his opponents. He's often able to lunge forward, and cleave an enemy's limb off before they can get close enough to return the favour.
Polearm/Halberd: What makes Sigurd's handling of the halberd, like other weapons, so uniquely effective, is simply his excessive size and strenght. He's able to weild the halberd properly, but with greater speed, reach, and force, than a normally proportioned man.
Equipment: Head: Iron Nasal Helm Shoulders: Bear Fur Cloak Torso: Iron Chainmail Underclothes: Leather Padded Wool Tunic Pants: Iron Plated Leather Arms: Iron Plated Leather Hands: Studded Leather Gloves
Feet: The Ashtreaders. Thick iron boots, tainted by long hidden spiritual entities. They glow bright orange, emitting excruciating heat, as though heated by a forge. Sparks dispurse around them as they strike the ground. Plants whither, puddles turn to steam, and wood is set ablaze when beneith them.
Primary Weapon: Karlingsbane, the skull-cleaver. An elongated pseudo-halberd, with a piked, two faced axe on the end. The tip is tempered, folded iron, dark and weathered. Handed to Sigurd at the age of 15, by his father, it is the oldest weapon in his possession. A weld can be seen two thirds of the way up the shaft, where it had to be extended to accomidate for his growth.
Secondary Weapon: Glitsever, the flame-keeper. A shining, exquisitely crafted steel longsword. Holy scripts, written in ancient runes, run along the entire length of the blade. The pommel, in contrast, has additonal symbols crudely scratched into it, clearly added long after the sword's forging.
Additional Weapons: -2 Throwing Axes
Magical Abilities:
Vision of the Flamebringer Sigurd can't see by conventional means. He channels the thermal energy of the world around him, granting him 360 degrees of vision, even in pitch darkness. Still, he's unable to see through thick walls, below a a couple feet of water, or under conditions where heat would be virtually undetectable.
Breath of the Haugbui Sigurd is able to ignite flame within his trachea, and shoot steam from his mouth in short, 10-second, bursts. However, he must wait twenty minutes, or drink water, to produce more steam.
Non-Combat Items: -1 Torch -1 Smoking Pipe -1 Pouch of Herbs -2 Firesteels -1 Lantern -1 Bottle of Kerosene
History: Sigurd was born into a seclusive tribe in the mountains of Ulfheimr, a temperate land, now lost to history and geographic politics. This tribe called themselves the Muspelhugrs and worshiped a volcanic god, known as Feigrsurt, who they believed to be heating the hotsprings that surrounded their village. From an early age, Sigurd was taught to fight with every manner of weaponry. This was done in the name of Feigrsurt, who was believed to reward skilled warriors, and favour villages that raided their neighbours. Needless to say, this meant the village was constantly at risk of retaliation from nearby tribes. At the age of 20, Sigurd's village was overwhelmed by an imperial army that sought to annex the region into their empire. In a last-ditch effort to save his village, Sigurd sacrificed his eyes to Feigrsurt, by burning them out with a piece of heated iron. Feigrsurt smiled upon this act of flagilation, and granted Sigurd the strength to defeat the invading force. Feigrsurt bound his feet in hot iron, and set his lungs ablaze. Sigurd charged the opposing force in a blind rage, spewing steam, kicking up embers from the ground, and swinging a halberd. The enemy soldiers broke ranks and sprinted away in fear, and Sigurd was declared the spiritual leader of his tribe. That night, Feigrsurt came to Sigurd in a dream, appearing as a living flame, proclaiming, "You will no longer be mere human, mountain dweller. You will be my fire giant, my flame bringer, and you will pave the way for my conquest." From then onward, they knew him only as Flamebringer, and he led them as a band of savage marauders, pillaging and murdering wherever they went. Years later, Sigurd would abandon his tribe, with a small group of his most devout followers, on a quest to summon Feigrsurt in physical form, and bring about a fiery apocalypse. After many years more of searching without success, Sigurd returned home, only to find his tribe had been eradicated while he was away. What he found instead was the outpost of a neighbouring kingdom. He and his men slaughtered the soldiers stationed there, and burned the post the the ground. They then proceeded to march into the kingdom's capital, and butcher the king with his own sword. This sword, crafted by the royal blacksmith, Sigurd named Glitsever, which he strapped to his side, to remind him of his quest for vengeance. Likewise, he strapped his old halberd, Karlingsbane, to his back, to remind him of his quest for redemption. To this day, Sigurd wanders the world, searching for enemies worthy of his strength, as well as magics great enough to either bring his tribe back from the dead, or kill the rest of humanity along with them. He walks about, clad in the furs and armours of the animals and men who've crossed his path. Fueled by the spirit of Feigrsurt, Sigurd's strength only grows with every challenge, and every scar.
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