Accepted Characters: Evvie T4
Arthur Greystoke T5
The Weeper T2
Devil Lord T3
Model 42 T3-7(Possible growth)
Ug Nug T1
Mikael Ades T2
Storm T4
Roas Drasle T4 (T2 unarmed.)
Miss Aldamin T7
Gregor Scott T4
Vallayuel Naradeohs T5
Claws T3
Ido Nagarkal T4
Ethelfleda Confodite T7
Sol T3
Killstreak Von Leetus T5
J.T. MacLeod T3
Tharraleos Polemistis T7
John Henry T5
Bosses:
Name: Jean Baldwin
Sex: Female
Age: 29
Height: 7'9"
Weight: 530 lbs
Physical Description: From an outsider's perspective, one could look upon Jean and call her an Amazon, or even a Goddess. But she is neither. Jean is a hugely transformed human being, turned into a being much greater than normal folk.
Psychological Description: Jean is a machine soldier, no thoughts beyond combat run through her mind. She lives for the kill, and would die to the hands of worthy adversaries should they step before her. There is nothing that she enjoys more than the field of battle, and being allowed to fight here is the happiest that she's ever been.
Tier: 7
Powers/Abilities/Skills:
Genetically and Technologically Enhanced Strength: Machines and forced mutations make Jean the woman she is today, using her father's riches she enhanced her body to the absolute potential of technology and biology. Able to hoist 300 solid tons of weight above her head, she has achieved what she believes is the perfect physical form.
Genetically and Technologically Enhanced Speed: With muscles are strong and perfect as hers she can achieve well beyond the speed of normal men. She can sprint up to 120 mph with ease, allowing her to travel vast distances just to deliver a message fo pain to those who dare oppose her.
Genetically and Technologically Enhanced Durability: To compensate for her strength she needed to have her body reinforced with internalized and externaized metal plates and bindings. These bindings are made from Laminated Steel. It is normal steel but laced with plastics to prevent it from growing infected. Though she can survive her own strength, it is not nearly as strong as one would expect it to be.Her flesh can still be penetrated by high powered rounds, and bleeding is still an issue. Broken bones are her greatest weakness, should a bone be broken she will only cause it to be worsened by putting immense strain on it.
Genetically and Technologically Enhanced Agility: Her incredible strength allows her to manouver around a battlefield with incredible ease, leaping over a hundred feet and jumping seventy feet. She can climb flat vertical surfaces without difficulty by digging her fingers into the wall itself. Her balance is incredible, allowing her to stand on a pole without imbalance.
Genetically and Technologically Enhanced Senses: With three neural implants she can analyze a combat scenario and determine whether or not she will win. This bio-computer allows her to see beyond what her eyes normally could, sensing the most minute movements in brush and in the distance. It makes small sounds easier to detect, giving her a better sense of the area around her. And the third dampens her nerves, making pain less of a hassle to deal with.
Equipment:
Large Body Morphic Armor: This suit of armor slightly enhances the durability of the wearer, allowing them to withstand strikes that would kill normal men. It is not very light, but it morphs to fit whoever wears it.
[Locked]Splitter: Splitter is her weapon of choice in the Arena. Splitter is a twelve foot long four inch wide bar of steel, wrapped from top to bottom in a carbon-nanotube weave. Turning it into an incredibly durable and hefty tool that is used primarily for bludgeoning foes to death with her incredible strength. It can withstand great deals of punishment from other weapons, and it is used to trade blows with foes who are armed with much more deadly blades.
History: Jean, the perfect supersoldier. A meld of machine, mutant, and human spirit. She was created in Alternate Earth Number Who -Gives-A-Fuck during the year 2251 for the express purose of wiping out groups of soldiers before they could even fight back. And she did it well. Too well, in fact. One of the things that emerged from the massive gene mutation was a lack of compassion, a lack of emotion. Jean was turned into a machine soldier, despite still being organic. Immediately she was decomissioned and sent off to live a 'normal' life.
Why didn't they just kill her? Well they would have, if they weren't aware that no armed force could match her on the battlefield. So they let her go free.
When she was let into the world she didn't know what to do, she wasn't born to live a normal life. All she knew was fighting, she had been raised to be the perfect warrior. And she had been, but now she wasn't allowed to fight? She didn't know how to get by until she walked past the big televisions in Time Square. She saw the Everlasting Arena being televised.
A smile cracked across her face for what was most likely the first time in her life.
She had found her purpose.
Over the next year she trained her body, mind, and soul to enter the Everlasting Arena.
Upon entering she found there were foes who far surpassed her in ability. So she teamed up with several other warriors who she regarded as her equal. The five of them, together, became the best team that the Everlasting Arena had seen in MANY years.
Name: Martin "The Man" Montgomery
Sex: Male
Age: 31
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 210 lbs
Physical Description: He's got the body of a bodybuilder, the face of a model, and the personality of a horse's ass. Martin dresses himself with a modified white tuxedo, how is it modified? It has a cape that runs over the right shoulder that is made from grey fabric. It is laced with gold trim. His hair is a dark glossy black and combed smooth, he keeps his face trimmed just so there's always a light stubble to give him a rugged look.
Psychological Description: Martin fancies himself some sort of superb heroic man, blessed with powers that make him better than other people. In reality, Martin is kind of a jerk. Barely what one would call a hero in any conventional sense. Yeah, he saves people's lives from time to time, but he's cocky and has often put even more people in harm's way by deciding to showboat.
Tier: 7
Powers/Abilities/Skills:
Above Average Human Fitness: Martin trained his body to the peak of fitness for vain reasons, rather than for combat. He can lift about 400 lbs, run at about 10 mph (Without his propulsion), and last for a good while in combat without tiring.
Specific Radiation Immunity: As his body produces a slightly radioactive particle, he has somehow developed an immunity to the effects of his own radiation.
Particle Production: From his body, Martin can produce a dense cloud of a lighter than air particle that has been identified as a previously unknown isotope of polonium. This particular polonium fog is barely radioactive, and is relatively stable. The properties of this particle, however, are unimportant. It is how he can manipulate it that makes this particle useful. Noteworthy Information about this particle, however, is that is glows a bright blue-green. The radiation is not harmful to other people, at least in the Arena.
Particle Propulsion: By venting thousands of pounds of particles from his body he can propel himself at massive speeds in all directions. Allowing for high speed omnidirectional flight. With great effort, and a bit of build up, he can reach speeds up to Mach 6. At speeds above Mach 4 he has difficulty turning.
Particle Shield: By venting a wide cloud of particles around his body, he can reduce friction and kinetic energy around his body by displacing it around himself. This allows him to fly at immense speeds without risk of destroying his body. As well, this shield allows him to deal high speed punches to opponents without breaking his arms. This shield, when used to its fullest extent, can hold about 3 hours worth of oxygen inside of it.
Particle Blast: From his body he can expel large quantities of particles that carry enough force to propel him through the air at breakneck speeds, so these shots can move up to Mach 6 depending on charge. The higher the charge the faster you are pushed away. At it's innitial charge it can only be fired at Mach 1, gaining 770 mph per 2 ticks. These blasts are pretty much useless for kiling, they're for pushing people away from him in case things get nasty. Or to push them into a hazard, like a spike.
Equipment:
Multitool: Pretty much a swiss army knife. Has a corkscrew, screwdriver, knife, can opener, scisors, and a nail file.
[Locked]Electronic Pocket Watch:
Pair of headsets: A pair of matching headsets that allows him to communicate with whoever is wearing the other one without alerting enemies to their position.
History:
Born in the year 1991, took to the skies in the year 2010, took to the Arena in 2020. Martin isn't from our version of Earth you see. He's from a version where many warriors with great power roam the streets. These supermen are remarkably powerful, and there are numerous conventions that normal folk have set up against them. But those who refuse to comply with those conventions are labeled villains, they're outcast from society and they turn to a life of crime. Who do you turn to when normal men can't stand against a foe? A super human.
Martin took up the mantle of superhuman in the year 2010 when his powers emerged, he saved his home city from destruction by flying the crazed maniac who was attacking it into the upper atmosphere. Dropping him from such heights left a gross splatter on the ground below, but he was regailed as a hero. Since then he's been roaming about and claiming the lives of all who dare call themselves villains.
Martin entered last year's arena and was soundly handed his ass by a group of empowered warriors. Before the final blow was struck Solomon Ross saved his life by fending off the crowd. Martin teamed up with him, later grouping up with the rest of the Extremes to make the champion team that took home the greatest amount of loot at the end of the Arena. The undisputed previous champions of the Arena.
Name: Crash (Okay, her name is Susie Melmont, but she goes by Crash.)
Sex: Female
Age: 21
Height: 5'6" (In suit 12'3")
Weight: 140 lbs (Mech Suit weighs 2,600 lbs.)
Physical Description: Crash is dressed rather scantily, keeping her clothes light because the machines she builds get incredibly hot. Wearing just a pair of low cut shorts and a tube top, you can see pretty much all of her skin. Covered from head to toe in piercings. Hell, some piercings in some places where they shouldn't be. A ladder of steel piercings runs up her forearms, a chain nose piercing that connects to two hoop earrings. Eyebrow piercings that hang just over to the sides of her eyes. She has a number of tattoos of machines and tools all over her body. She dyes her hair a bright luminescent neon green, shaving it into a short mohawk that hangs just over her face. This is not an uncommon appearance for people of her time period, for some reason the punk lifestyle became exceedingly popular in her particular timeline.
Psychological Description: Crash is incredibly brash, pig headed, and rude. Crash despises normal folks, they've just sort of turned into sheep people. Obediently watching the television, obeying everything that it says. Listening to all that it speaks as though it were truth. When the Everlasting Tournament came on TV when she was younger, she was suddenly changed psychologically. She decided that one day she'd participate in it. Well, she realized that she wasn't strong enough to compete with these people, so instead? She decided to get smart enough to compete against them. Taking to the sciences to change the world with her willpower!
Tier: 7
Powers/Abilities/Skills:
The Charles Darwin: Crash has no powers of her own, but she is a remarkably intelligent woman with an insane grasp on how to obtain and create machines. The Charles Darwin is her pride and joy, a 9 foot tall robotic power suit with an opening in the top for her to stand in. It is appropriately named The Charles Darwin, because it "Makes you extinct, just like Natural Selection would want you to be!" All abilities listed underneath are abilities of The Charles Darwin, controlled from inside the machine by Crash. The machine is made out of steel, plastic, and wires. It's combat potential lies entirely with its arsenal, as its arms aren't designed to withstand punches. It is capable of punches, but they cause immediate and noticable damage.
Central Particle Cannon:The greatest and most deadly power in her arsenal, this is effectively a mobile particle accelerator in the shape of a cannon. This weapon can charge for as long as necessary, increasing its damage the longer that it charges. At base charge, it is a beam of concentrated matter, blasted out of the central battery at speeds just under the speed of light for less than a second. This beam is 5 inches wide all around, at temperatures exceeding 10,000 degrees fahrenheit. This carries enough force and heat to blow holes in plate steel from 2 miles away. The force and temperature are the only things that increase as this charges. It has a cooldown of 5 ticks after firing. It fires so loud that it causes anyone nearby to be stunned due to the loud sound.
Left Mounted .50 Cal Chaingun: 9,000 rounds per minute, 150 rounds per second, and enough ammunition to fire for 3 solid minutes. This gun is no joke, despite being technically one of the weakest weapons in her arsenal. Once it runs out of ammunition it has a 4 tick cooldown as the ammo synthesizer refills it.
Left Mounted Sticky Flamethrower: Why is it called a sticky flamethrower you ask? The stuff loaded into this baby is pure napalm. Burning at 5,000 degrees fahrenheit and clinging to flesh like stink on dead bodies. It's a menacing tool of devastation. She can only carry around 5 gallons at a time, she fires 1 gallon per gout of flame. Allowing for only 5 blasts of flame, until the synthesizer regenerates it.This has a 2 tick cooldown once it runs out of fuel.
Left Mounted High Power Railgun: On top of the left arm is a 2 foot long rain gun that accelerates a slab of tungsten wrapped in steel, roughly 3 inches loung and 1 inch wide. These rounds are launched from the barrel at mach 5, exploding upon contact with anything it strikes. It carries enough force to shred a normal human's body from any collision point. It carries 3 rounds . Each time it is shot a sonic boom rings out.
Right Mounted Rocket Fist: The right fist of this suit of armor is the only usable melee tool, however, it is not designed to punch at close range. The fist is lined with three high powered jets, accelerating it up to 120 mph until it reaches the end of its chain. This chain is about 20 feet long. The fist stops moving once it runs out of fuel. The fist is about 3 feet wide and 2 feet tall. It has no fingers, it's just a slab of metal. This has a 2 tick cooldown.
Right Mounted Grenade Launcher: A six tube, one barrel grenade launcher. These are incredibly high power grenades, enough gunpowder is packed into these 4 inch diameter pills to blow a man in half. It is an autoloader system, allowing for seamless spamming of all six grenades. Or ensuring that you always have one in the chamber. Once all six tubes are emptied this weapon has a 2 tick cooldown.
Right Mounted Homing Missile: There is a 3 foot long high explosive missile tucked underneath the forearm of the right arm. This missile is a hydrogen based high explosive. When fired it moves at mach 1, causing a sonic boom upon firing. When it collides with its target it has a blast radius of 12 feet. It has a cooldown of 2 ticks.
Back Mounted Artillery: When push comes to shove, sometimes you can't use finess and fine aim to take out an opponent. Sometimes you have to level an entire landscape just to get rid of one opponent. What's that? You don't? I do! Requiring 2 ticks preparation time, this weapon is the only one that needs to be prepped before it can be fired. However, once it is fired, it launches a volley of 15 high explosive rounds in a high arc over her head. Landing in a straight line in front of the mech, flattening 30 yards of land in a straight line. Destroying houses, people, trees, hills, so on and so forth. This has a 5 tick cooldown after firing.
Ammo Synthesizer:How else would you expect a girl to have enough ammunition to compete in this kind of tournament? I mean, I am from the year 3012. Did you not expect me to be prepared? The ammo synthesizer is a matter migrator, pulling certain materials from the surrounding area and through a small 'wormhole'. It recreates the ammunition that she has fired over the course of a battle. Gradually refilling her ammunition once it runs out.
Equipment:(The mech is pat of the character herself, and therefore not a piece of equipment.)
[Locked]Huge Wrench: This is a huge wrench, about 3 feet long. If anyone were to climb onto her mech, she'd bash their skull in with this wrench. Plain and simple. Made from solid stainless steel.
Nail Gun: A high power nailgun that fires three inch long nails hard enough to embed them into solid oak. You do the math on what happens if it's put to your head.
History: Born in the year 2991 she's a girl from the far future with comical ambitions. To literally destroy civlization as it is to rebuild it from the ground up. No, really, she's only in the Everlasting Arena to improve the designs of her machines to make sure nobody can stop her. But that's her secret. The official story that she gives to the public is that she's a bright upcoming star of the Arena, determined to win every single Everlasting Arena that happens during her lifetime.
During the last one, however, she was repeatedly defeated until she joined up with Jean and later the other 3 extremes. When she returned home, she created a brand new machine. The Charles Darwin was her 2.0, and she's ready to test this big slab of metal and plastic against superheroes and demons alike. The other extremes can suck it, she's ready to win no matter what the cost.
Name: Lob, The Ironclad Warrior
Sex: N/A, but addressed as Male.
Age: 190
Height: 19'2"
Weight: 21,200 lbs
Physical Description: Lob is a lumbering beast of cast iron with no visible eyes or any orifice for that matter. He is vaguely humanoid, with the posture of a gorilla. His body is hulking and featureless, the only thing breaking the smooth metal texture of his body are the number of wounds taken from previous Arenas and previous battles. Two circles adorn his weak points, on his head and chest. These are actually weld marks, left behind when his body was opened up to be animated.
Psychological Description: A simple beast with simple behaviors, created by a demigod for the sole purpose of entering the Arena and waging war when the Arena was not burning hot. Lob is programmed to defeat all opponents who come before him in the Arena, to crush them with his incredibly bulk.
Tier: 7
Powers/Abilities/Skills:
Iron Fist: His body is made from iron, and he is colossal. It is understood that he is far stronger than a normal man, though not as much as one would actually believe. Lob can only lift 2 tons of weight. He compensates for his unremarkable strength with devilish durability.
Iron Flesh: Lob's skin and muscles are made from solid cast iron, nowhere near as strong as other materials but in such high quantities it becomes menacingly difficult to break down. With ease he can withstand barrages of blows from foes, tank damage from beings equally as strong as he is without faltering. Lob does not have organic parts, so he does not become exhausted as a battle wears on. Though he is functionally immortal, he does still have vital organs. Not made from flesh, but iron as well. If his 'brain' or 'heart' are wounded he will die immediately. His primary method of combat is throwing his weight around. He can only move at 12 mph in full sprint.
Iron Will: Lob is only semi-sentient, he is more of an automaton than certain automatons. He accomplishes a task set before him without faltering. Once his task is completed he moves on to another task, or he just roams aimlessly.
Iron Shot: From his hands he can launch chunks of iron from inside of his body. These chunks are roughly the size of a human fist, and fly out at about 60 mph. They are hefty chunks of cast iron and can easily break bones.
Equipment: N/A
He is, however, lootable. Chunks of iron can be looted from his corpse, these chunks of iron aren't remarkable in any way, but they might prove to be useful projectiles.
History: Lob was created during the first Arena by an upstart Demigod who wanted to enter into the Arena himself. When he was turned away, he was told that he could have a champion of his own enter the Arena and fight in his stead. With this news he breathed life into a mass of Iron and stuck it into the Everlasting Arena, and forced him to fight. And fight Lob did, Lob was a devastating opponent, his colossal weight was more than a number of the champions could even compete with. As stronger champions entered, Lob was forced to work together with other powerful champions to even keep up. His dense nature was barely enough to keep him afloat against some of the strongest foes he faced. As the years went by, and numerous Arenas were lost, he teamed up in Last Year's Everlasting Arena with the other four extremes. These four allies and himself were more than capable of defeating their foes. They walked away champions and legends that day, and the demigod was ecstatic. He wanted more fighting, so he jumped at the chance to enter Lob into the next Arena.
Name: Solomon Ross, The Master of Weapons
Sex: Male
Age: 72
Height: 5'2" (Actually taller, but his back is heavily arched from age.)
Weight: 182 lbs.
Physical Description: From his outward appearance, Solomon is barely an intimidating man. Bent and ancient, deeply wrinkled skin with numerous permanent scars from his long years of experience. Encumbering his elderly frame are numerous leather straps and sheaths that hold his excessive number of weapons to his body. These weapons barely fit on him, clattering about as he moves. The straps actually serve a purpse beyond the holstering of his weapons. They are all lines that move outwards away from his center, causing his body to not look nearly as intimidating as it actually is. Despite his age, his body is in perfectly healthy condition. The muscles from his body do not look like those of a body builder, or of a fighter. They are built muscles, forged from years of training. Perfectly attuned to how he works on the field of battle.
Beneath his numerous straps is a simple garb of cotton and silks, it's a robe that's held closely to his body by the straps of leather. It conceals 90% of the scars on his body.
Psychological Description: Solomon is significantly less serious than one would expect a man who has spent 80% of his life training to surpass all warriors who have come before him. After his training he took the best possible path, instead of becoming a broody old man with a dozen regrets. He decided to live the back half of his life cheerfully, taking up the sword on the field of battle to teach young up-and-coming warriors their place in the world. Teaching them that even though they're energetic, youthful, and strong that they're nothing compared to a man with real conviction.
Tier: 7
Powers/Abilities/Skills:
Unleashed Mortal Strength: Slow and trudging years of training under the tutelage of the previous 'Master of Weapons' left his body broken and battered. As his wounds healed and his bones reset, he was left with remarkable strength beyond that of normal men. 30x that of a normal man, to be precise. Able to lift 7,200 lbs above his head with both hands, and toss it with relative ease.
Unleashed Mortal Speed: The training left his legs weary and his back aching, ruining his posture as the years passed, but as his legs finally came to rest he found that he could run faster than any man before him. As fleet as the fastest wind, as swift as a falling star. He was a blur to normal men. Again, 30x as fast as normal men. Able to run at 240 mph.
Unleashed Mortal Skin: Body broken, bruised, bloodied, and battered, he was left with scars and callouses that hindered his movement. But as time passed and the wounds softened and gave way to fresh skin and newly healed bones, he was tougher than an ox. His body is strong enough to withstand blows from shotguns and continue fighting.
Unleashed Mortal Mind: Psychologically he was torn down, turned into what some would say is less than a man. Turning off his emotions for periods of time just so he could survive the rigorous tasks that he was put through. When his training came to an end, and his mind became his once more, he was enlightened. Everything he had been put through had left him more calm than any man before him, no amount of suffering would break his will to fight. Solomon was made into a truly devastating warrior. His ability to comprehend the movement's of his opponent's is remarkable, and some have called it precognition. However, it is not that he is predicting where they will be, his eyes see at 30x the speed of normal men, allowing him to see objects moving at around Mach 6.
Universal Mastery of All Weapons: Fifty years, fifty years did Solomon train himself to master every weapon placed in his hands. This training has gifted him mastery of all weapons made by man and some races of elf-kin. This mastery of weaponry is so encompasing that weapons that he's never held before are easy for him to utilize on the field of battle.
Weapon Trickery: Any weapon that Solomon carries on his person can be interchanged without movement, should he so wish to do so. This is an instantaneous process, allowing him to change up his fighting style repeadly without risk of exposure.
Equipment: All weapons that are not expressly stated to be made of another materail are made from crucible forged steel. Made from high quality iron ore, mined from a secluded location in the mountains. Each weapon has been treated repeatedly so they do not give under his strength.
Abisha, The Perfect Blade: MADE FROM PLOT-TANIUM ALLOY!!! No, really. This blade was forged from boron steel, crafted in an environment of pure argon gas to prevent any possible imperfections. It was heated and folded 1,000 times until it became impossible to fold the blade any further with human strength. Struck with a hammer until it was bent into the shape of a cavalry sabre. Its handle is made from Quebracho wood, dyed black and wrapped with the skin of a shark. The skin is wrapped in silk, folded in a similar process to the wrappings of a katana. The middle of the handle has a perfectly shaped palm swell to fit the hand of practically any who uses the blade, it is comfortable to hold in your hand without risk of slipping. The hand guard is rounded to overlap the user's hand and protect it from accidentally being nicked in the middle of combat. This is made from crucible steel and hammered to bend just enough to prevent it from touching the user's hand. The blade itself is three feet long with a slight curve at the end of it. It is a single edged sword. The edge is keen enough to cleanly slice through flesh and bone without knicking, it can trade blows with lesser swords and carve deep wounds into them. This blade was not originally Solomon's, he participated in the previous Everlasting Arena and left with this blade in hand from a fallen foe. He lost half of his arsenal that day, but he left with a fantastic blade for his collection.
Gladius: A short and sharp blade on an even shorter handle, this deceptively small blade has been the end to many foes who underestimated its deadliness due to its length. It is about 11 inches long and two inches wide, it is a deathly tool.
Kerambit: A six inch long curved dagger utensil, designed for cleanly cutting into flesh and leaving deep wounds in flesh. To cause pain and blood loss in its victims.
Hakapik: A short handled hook weapon, designed to dig into targets and punch holes in organs. Quickly killing them with sharp trauma to important areas like the heart or brain. The blade is roughly 8 inches long, on a 12 inch snakewood handle.
Dory Spear: A 10 foot long spear with a short 5 inch leaf shaped spearhead on the end, counterbalanced with a metal weight on the opposing end. Designed to be utilized behind a shield or among the ranks of a phalanx.
Engraved Leather Sling: A 22 inch long, three inch wide strap of soft treated leather. A simple tool with a simple purpose, however, this sling is his deceptive pride and joy. Along the inside of this simple leather strap are six runes, written in elvish tongues. Anything loaded into this sling and thrown shall accelerate 10 times the speed of the user's greatest throw. (About 3020 mph.) On his hip he has a bag of stones, perfectly round and smooth. There are about 30 stones in this bag.
Knobkerrie: A three foot long rod with 2 inch thickness, the end of it swells to around 5 inches. It is made from snakewood, a notoriously hard wood that has been heat treated to intensify its strength. Used to knock people off of their balance with quick strikes to the joints.
Morning Star: A foot long metal rod with leather binding around the handle, at the end of the handle is a large seven by seven inch sphere of metal with long spikes protruding from the center. A prime tool for penetrating armor and breaking bones. The head weighs 40 lbs.
Chakram: A circular blade with a handle through the center, designed to be thrown at an opponent.
Maul: A huge metal hammer with a big blocky head, the handle is roughly five feet long, the head is one foot tall and wide, and it is two feet long. It is used to crush armor, bones, and organs with long arching swings. It weighs roughly 230 lbs.
Dragon Beard Hook: This is a stel hook, with four large outwards pointing claws. The base of the hook is barbed with smaller and sharper hooks. This is attached to a 15 foot long chain. This is a weapon used to snare enemies and cause severe wounds to the flesh, preventing them from fleeing battle.
Kusari-Gama: A sickle of steel with a snakewood handle. Attached to the base of the handle is a thin chain, roughly 12 feet long with a heavy metal weight on the end of it, filled with lead to increase its weight. The weight is 1 lb.
Halberd: The weapon of choice for cavalry, an 8 foot long staff with a broad curved axe-like head on the end with a long spearhead attached. Allowing for swinging and stabbing with the heafty head.
History:
Solomon's tale is both long and short, and too boring for normal folks to occupy themselves with. To summarize it is the best way to go.
He was adopted and raised by a Jewish-American family in the early 1900s, they gave him a good first 20 years of his life and set him on his way with a significant amount of money with him. He used this startup money to adventure the world for a bit. Somewhere about a month in, his adventures took a sour turn when he was mugged by a gang of robbers in the southern end of the Ottoman Empire. (This was less than a year before it dissolved, fun fact.) He was stabbed in the gut and the chest by one of the muggers. Just before everything went black, he was saved by a young man with a completely shaved head. This young man brought him to the 'temple' where he was raised. It wasn't really a temple it was practically a castle.
This temple took him in, treated his wounds, and took interest in him for surviving the wounds. They offered him a way to survive further battles, and to show him a world that was vastly different from his own.
Needless to say, he took this up and trained with them for fifty solid years under the tutelage of the previous master of weapons. Retiring 50 years later, after he had mastered his art.
After retiring he took to the Everlasting Arena, I mean why not. When you've become as powerful as him in his old age. During the previous annual Everlasting Tournament he obtained the perfect sword, it cost him so many of his weapons but in the end he was rewarded with a masterwork sword from a time ahead of his own. He along with the other extremes teamed up near the end of the last Arena to defeat the higher tiered opponents and walk home the uncontested champions of the Arena.
Agents of Tarvin:
Name: Flint, the Flame Familiar
Age: 28
Sex: Male
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 170lbs
Physical Description: Bordering on the uncanny valley, Flint is not actually a human. Flint is from a dimension of ethereal origins, where primarily magic beings live. He is a humanoid manifestation of fire itself, he has many human traits however some of them are a bit too strange to see without taking notice of. His eyes are solid orange, his mouth is just a bit too wide with very thin and sharp lips. His eyebrows are curved upwards into a crescent, adorning his head is bright orange hair with red feathers sticking from the side.
The base of his chin comes down in a sharp point, with a small patch of hair just above the tip. His manner of dress is strange, with a shirt that only covers the left half of his torso, being held on by a strap of cloth. All of his clothes are a deep shade of brown, almost black. He wears no shoes, and his toes are very thin. Everything about him is just slighly off normal. If you look inside of his mouth, you'll find he doesn't actually have teeth. Rather a plate of bone that thins near the front and widens near the back.
Psychological Description: Flint is not actually evil in any regard, rather, he's very violent with an unruly nature and manner of action. As a familiar he is compelled to obey the wishes of who-so-ever decides to summon him. In this case he has been summoned by Tarvin for the express purpose of causing mayhem. Despite being compelled into being more violent than he normally would be, he does still relish in the heat of battle. Flint loves to fight, and hates any moment where he can't prove himself on the field of battle.
In reality, Flint actually suffers from inadequacy issues. He's never been the greatest manipulator of flame, nor has he ever been the most imposing Fire Spirit. So to compensate for his weakness and relatively small size he has become incredibly expressive and aggressive.
Tier: 3
Powers/Abilities/Skills:
Peak Human Strength: Able to hoist 600 lbs over his head he is respectably strong, albeit far from the strongest physically, his strength is still nothing to shake a stick at.
Peak Human Speed: Flint can run fast as the wind, able to reach speeds up to 42 mph in full sprint for extended periods of time.
Above Human Durability: Flint is not human, and in fact, is not made out of normal human flesh. His flesh is a bit tougher than even the toughest human's skin, allowing him to take punches from stronger beings and survive.
Temperature Immunity: Due to being an embodiment of fire, he has certain immunities to temperatures below his own. Temperatures below 5k degrees Celsius, and above -100 degrees Celsius are harmless to him, causing only slight discomfort when they are fired at him. Temperatures above 5k degrees are resisted, however, if they far outstrip his own he cannot withstand them for extended periods of time.
Spectacular Short Range Manipulation of Flame: (That is his name for it.) He is completely incapable of long range projection of fire, to compensate for his shortcomings he has become remarkable at generating heat within a close range of his body. When in combat he can project thin jets of high pressure flame, burning at 5k degrees Celsius. These flames are so high pressure that they function as cutting torches. They're effectively short range super heated blades.
Equipment:
Feathers of a Familiar: Don't know why you would want them, but Flint grows bright feathers along certain areas of his body. These feathers are warm, and do not lose their heat after they are plucked from his skin.
History:
Flint's past is honestly rather mediocre.
Born and raised in a small township in an alternate dimension of ethereal magic, he was effectively the runt of the litter when it came to power and size. So when he reached the age of 13, the psychological effect of being an unremarkable flame spirit got to him. So he started showboating, mastering the abilities that he had, and eventually wound up pretty good at short range projection of flame magic.
Not every character has a dramatic or long winded backstory. Flint simply exists for the sake of existing. He's no protagonist, no hero, not even a legend. Flint isn't even the scrappy underdog to root for when the going gets tough.
He's here, and he's not going anywhere.
Name: Abraham Haddad
Race: Ghul, a kind of Evil Djinn
Age: 12,468
Sex: Male
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 150 lbs
Physical Description:
Having no semblence to what he once was, Abe is now a shadow of a beast. Barely human in his appearance he bears more resemblance to a corpse now than a man. From head to toe he is visibly sun dried, visually similar in many regards to beef jerky. His lips are peeled back, revealing his bright white teeth. Abe has no eyelids, and his eyes have dried to mere blackness. Left in the socket where his eyes once were are two small flames, so dim that they are invisible in the light. This is how he sees, despite not having eyes.
On his head are the remains of hair, a few strands dangling off to the sides and doing nothing to hide his scalp. His body is lithe and boney, save for his distended gut filled with a vile poison. His flesh is baked, thin, and covered with wounds and lesions from time gone by. The nerves are weak, deadened, and barely functional.
Draped limply across his lithe form is a blood stained and yellowed silken robe. It hangs off of him as one wouldexpect something to hang off of little more than a skeleton.
Psychological Description:
Abe has lost his mind, through millenia of life and through brain disease. The traits that Abe demonstrates are remnants of who he once was and what happens as his brain randomly triggers throughts. Abe is wild, animalistic, and admittedly cruel. He's entirely capable of thought, but his thoughts have become devoted to searching for his next meal.
Tier: 4
Powers/Abilities/Skills:
Acid Vomit: Deep in his distended gut, Abe houses a caustic gel that smokes within his body. When this acid is loosed it dissolves through inorganic objects faster than organic, liquifying steel in a few minutes if left be. From his mouth he can spray massive gouts of this toxic substance, with ease he can spray as hard and as wide as a firehose for extended periods of time. Coating surfaces very rapidly in the noxious sludge. Its scent is as foul as a rotting carcas mixed with digestive juices. On contact with flesh after burning through clothing it causes severe pain, but only superficial wounds. This power can be charged. As well, it may be launched in balls of projectile vomit, allowing for a more controlled shot.
Caustic Breath: The juices in his stomach produce a thick, rancid gas. Abe can push this gas up from his stomach into his throat, and back down into his lungs. When he exhales this gas he can spread a miasma of burning fog in the direction he is facing. This fog is poisonous, however, only in the strictest of regards. It is non-fatal poison, only causing slight discomfort when one lets it sit on them. However, when this fog is breathed in, it has a much more dire effect. The fog is made of small liquid particulates that rest on the inside of your lungs. Causing your breathing to become halted and eratic. Burning your throat and mouth the more and more you breathe it in. This attack can be charged. When he breathes it out, he can project a 5x5 area of this fog in front of himself. This settles after 2 ticks. The settling takes progressively longer to happen as the charge goes up.
Hyper Enhanced Jaw: Abe's body may be frail, but his jaw is strong enough to flatten iron. His jaw is so malformed that he has to break his jaw to use it, however, a complex series of mutated muscles allow him to freely move his lower jaw after it has been separated. Once his jaw is broken he can completely unhinge it and envelop objects nearly three times the size of his mouth. With one bite, Abe can strip limbs off of normal people.
The Ghul's Hands: Abe has the lingering power of a Djinn still running through his veins, and he can still bathe his hands in a dim smokeless flame. Allowing him to strike people with the same force that he was once able to. Allowing him to lift as much weight as he used to be able to, and to grip as strong as he once could. The Ghul's hand gives Abe 2 tons of lifting weight.
Equipment:
[Locked]Partizan: A six foot long spear, made from ash wood with a wide feathered blade of bronze. There are no magical properties about this spear, it has no remarkable weight, it isn't even made from the best materials. It is simply a tool.
Stained Silk Clothes: You're not going to find much worth out of these clothes, they're silken garb from centuries ago. Age normally destroys silk, but the desert's kind embrace has held these clothes together by shielding them from decay. They have no particular value, and their sole purpose is to clothe Abe and prevent the sun from beating down on his body.
History:
Once upon a time before Makind became prevalent, Abe was a normal Djinn, a being of smokeless flame manifest. Daunting civilizations of Angels and Djinn took shape on an unformed Earth. Time wore on and humans became more prevalent than Djinn and Angels. Abe, however, took a human form in protest to these 'humans.' Who were they to take his home, these beings that grabbed land that had been given to the Djinn and Angels by higher beings. So Abe took their form, demanding his home as his own, despite being hopelessly alone in what was once a great city of Djinn. By Djinns and Angels alike, Abe was labeled as a Ghul and left behind as they went into seclusion.
An age passed by and Abe stubbornly refused to leave his home, despite the once high towers crumbling into sand and leaving him homeless. His human body became ill, but his Djinn magic kept him alive. Abe began eating everything that he could catch, mostly poisonous insects and reptiles in the desert. Which only made his body more ill.
After several centuries of this diet persisted, and his illness grew more deathly he began vomiting consistently. At around this time his body started to look sun dried and withered, Abe began to look as he does now.
The sickness and his magic continued to mix over the years, his vomit became more poisonous and more acidic as time passed. His body mutated to deal with this change of biology, forcing new bones to grow where they shouldn't. Removing organs and turning them into new ones.
Within a thousand years his body was in ruins, but he was reborn anew. Although he had taken his form to protest humans, something about it drove him to persist despite his kind being long gone. Abe had become something more than Djinn or Man, Abe willingly accepted the title of Ghul.
Nothing less would befit one who refused to give up his hatred after so many years.
Nothing less would befit one who has turned into a poison spewing monster as he has.
Humans began spreading to the Sahara desert, building refuges on the borders of what he still claimed as his territory. In the night, Abe snuck into their towns, donned their clothes, and did his best to blend into society. Beneath a hood he did not stick out in a crowd.
Abe began plotting to remove them from his land, to banish these greedy beasts from his home.
In the dark of night, Abe began flooding the streets with his poison. The open windows and doors would be perfect venues for his toxins to flow in and kill all those inside.
It was cruel, it was despicable. But Abe saw what he was doing as right, this was his home that they were stealing. They laid claim to land that was not theirs and the sole resident lashed out violently.
During one night, Abe was seen by a slave during his nightly ritual of poisoning people. As the man began running, Abe made chase and in desperation bit cleanly into his skull with his unnatural jaw. Killing the poor man instantly.
The taste.
The taste was amazing.
His ritual turned from poisoning these folks to consuming them.
There were some unfortunate side effects. Consuming the flesh of humans drove him mad, turning his brain into mush. Abe has since become a monster, roaming the sands of the Sahara desert weilding a stolen partizan, murdering and consuming all that he sees.
The tale of Abe has no end, it is just a tale that fades out as time goes by. Abe is a ghost of being that never should have been but refuses to just disappear.
Name: Rallon, The Headsman
Age: Rallon's body is only 24, the Axe itself is 192
Sex: Male
Height: 7'8"
Weight: 650lbs
Physical Description:
Rallon's body is that of a warrior, finely toned muscle that has been sculpted through many years of ceaseless combat. Augmented by his spiritual lineage, he has an unnatural appearance about him. Were it not for the countless scars of battles past, he would have an inhuman beauty about him. Now, his face is wicked and curled. With a smile that tears at his cheeks, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that his eyes are constantly cast in shadow, his neck is tense and you can see every vein pumping with his heartbeat. Rallon's body is clad from head to his neck down in thick steel armor, simple and smooth armor with no remarkable traits. His armor is very simple, but it is effective.
Rallon is a man of apparently Greco-Roman heritage with dark tanned skin. His hair is deep blue-black with a slight shine, adorning his chin is a fu-man-chu that hangs off a few inches. Once he had deep brown eyes, however the energy that flows from his axe has turned his eyes the same color as the energy.
Psychological Description:
The Headsman's psyche is entirely centric around what it brings to its victims. Fearful, paranoid, aggressive, furious, pained, and generally insane. The Headsman's consciousness is not one of a whole being, it is the psyche of a partial being. A being that only knows half of what it means to be alive. Its existence relies entirely on it bringing the same pain that it feels constantly to those around it.
Tier: 7
Powers/Abilities/Skills:
Strength of the Ancestor Spirit: The abilities once belonging to Rallon became The Headsman's own when he conquered Rallon's will. The strength of Rallon is inhuman, able to hoist 90 tons overhead with ease.
Speed of the Ancestor Spirit: The speed of a spirit, augmented by the painless body now owned by a wrathful axe. Rallon can move swifter than the fastest wind. Able to run at 400 mph over long periods of time.
Skin of the Ancestor Spirit: Rallon's body is so tough that iron blades, made by a normal blacksmith are seen as worthless against him. They bend and break on his skin, allowing him to face armies of men without feeling a single wound on his flesh. Cannonballs can be stopped by his bare hand and he would only suffer minor wounds to his wrist and hand.
Sense of the Ancestor Spirit: The eyesight of a hawk and the hearing of a bat, Rallon is able to sense people coming from 200 yards away.
Power of the Wicked Axe: Glowing vibrant crimson with slight flickers of white and yellow appearing throughout, this energy leaks from the axe and covers his body from head to toe. Most strongly glowing near the hand that holds the blade. It clings closely to him, only a few inches thick at its greatest concentration. When any of his abilities are used, this cloak of energy shrinks momentarily. It is an indicator of his strength. As well, it can be used in an offensive way. When someone gets too close to him and he can't force them away, the energy itself can push with just as much strength as his body. Allowing him to push away multiple foes at once.
Energy of the Wicked Axe: When the blade is swung it will throw a blast of crescent energy from its edge, cleaving the landscape in front of it. This serves as a blade of its own, 5 feet long without any sort of charge. This attack can charge, the crescent of energy will grow longer with every turn eventually encircling his body with it and launching outwards in a circle.
Wrath of the Wicked Axe: Cruel energy licks around the blade of the axe. Anything struck by the blade when wrapped in this energy will feel the lashes of a thousand whips around the area of contact. These lashes break the flesh and make the victim bleed more. This extends the range of the blade by three inches in all directions, allowing him to swing in a misleading way.
Thirst of the Wicked Axe: The Headsman feeds off of the blood of its fallen foes, when a wound is struck by this blade it will begin to siphon off the blood from the opponent. As long as it remains in contact it will continue draining their blood. The blade drinks this blood, repairing itself with it. Holding itself together, and feeding its bloodlust. The more blood it drinks the more violently it fights.
Equipment:
[Locked] The Headsman's Axe: This is The Headsman itself. A living axe with wicked form, strapped to the end of a sturdy handle. Its weight and shape are cumbersome for any man to wield, however, The Headsman wields itself. It knows exactly where its balance is. Where its best striking position would be. The headsman measures 6 feet long, its handle is steel wrapped in bear hide. The blade was once a bearded axe with a long flat blade used to cut the heads from those sentenced to death.
When it fell into the hands of Rallon it was changed to continue taking the lives of those who step before him. The Headsman was dipped in iron and came out misshapen and crude, looking unfit to be a true weapon until it was sharpened and reshaped by hammer. It is now a cruel edge.
This blade's energy is so foul, so potent, and so aggressive that it has become permanently ingrained in the psyche of Rallon. Even if the axe is separated from the wielder, the wielder is still under his control. The blade is the source of all his abilities, aside from his physical strength.
History:
A blade made living by the countless lives taken under its edge. During the crusades this axe was used to wrongfully execute countless of innocent men, women, and children in the name of god. It stained this axe with their anger and fear, the resentment they felt towards the headsman and his axe filled it to the brim with powers unholy and cruel. After at least two thousand heads felled under the blade, the blade began to think on its own. It hungered for more blood, and it took matters into its own hands. Or rather, the hands of the executioner.
It took control of him, filling his body with its cruel energies. On a rampage filled with bloodlust the Headsman took the lives of a dozen innocent people, the executioner was killed by the guard and the axe was confuscated and was sent to be smelted down. The blacksmith was then taken by the Headsman, he died carrying the blade out of the city. His body couldn't take the evil energies exuded by the blade.
It passed hands from an adventurer, to a scholar, to a priest, to countless others, eventually killing the wielder and those unfortunates who were nearby them when the axe was in their hands. The axe became a thing of legend, eventually people killed to take the blade for themselves. Thinking that they were strong enough to wield it without dying, thinking themselves more powerful than the blade. At this time, however, its power was much greater than a human's will. Any who took the blade up would become a puppet of The Headsman.
But then a man who called himself Rallon the Splitter took the blade from the previous weilder, crushing his head between his hands before the blade could even be swung.
Rallon was the descendent of a powerful spirit, his bloodline had great strength and speed. They were something to be feared by all who faced them on the battlefield. Inhumanly strong and tall, they would crush foes with devastating might. They made the perfect hired hands.
Until Rallon was born.
Rallon took up war for his own wretched purposes. Rallon killed for sport, capturing slaves and making them run from him while he hunted them down.
The tale of the Headsman fell on his ears and he demanded the blade become his own. A legendary weapon for a legendary warrior.
Upon grasping the blade, he felt its power surge through him. Rallon fought back against the blade, clashing his will against its own. This mental battle raged on for days, but on the fifth day exhaustion took Rallon. His will fell to the Headsman, and the Headsman finally had a vessel worthy of its power. No weak human that would die to another lesser being, a great monster of a man who's vessel could withstand his foul powers.
Eventually the blade grew dull, but its power still lingered. The Headsman brought himself to a blacksmith, dipping himself into the molten metal of his forge and shaping himself right then and there. He became a cruel mass of steel and iron, jagged and misshapen with a wicked edge in front. Hammered and sharpened by Rallon's hand.
The Headsman still enjoys Rallon's hunts, and the Arena is a perfect venue for him.
Lalliman,
Rekkuza,
Captain Uni,
Ohm,
Divorarel,
Pickled Piper,
PrinceAlexus,
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