Luminosity

Escaping The Faewoods - A Survival Horror RP

Freya Carstensen

Name: Freya Carstensen
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Appearance

Likes:

• Creating art
• Music
• Writing
• Nature, especially small animals

Dislikes:

• Coffee
• Hot weather
• Bossy, stubborn people
• Whispers make her deeply uncomfortable

Skills:

• Drawing and writing
• Climbing, specifically rock climbing
• Archery, if she could find a bow and arrows

Fears:

• True, complete silence, especially in darkness
• Nightmares

Inventory:

• Her phone
• Car keys
• A few hair ties

Personality: Freya's quiet on the surface, and not the easiest girl to open up. She'd much rather listen to others than talk about herself, and at times can seem secretive or sly. She may enjoy writing, but she's not the best with words when put on the spot. She's never made friends easily, something she's actually quite hard on herself about.

Despite her enjoyment of archery, Freya is not violent at all, practicing it at first as a way to spend time with a friend and later as a way to find some inner peace. She'll resort to violence only if she feels she has no other choice. Bravery is not something she lacks, though, and she'll jump at a chance to help others, so she can make ties with actions rather than words.

Freya has been looking for a fresh start around new faces for a while now. This is not exactly what she had in mind.

History: Freya grew up the younger of two children in a fairly well off family, spending most of her childhood in a moderately sized Pacific Northwest town. She had a stable, normal life for the most part, finding her interests in school in things like art and writing, and beyond it in activities like archery and rock climbing. Freya wasn't the most popular or outgoing girl, but she had a steady circle of friends and a healthy home life.

Her world was turned upside down at the age of 16, however, when she and her best friend were hit by a drunk driver while Freya was behind the wheel. She made it out with only a broken bone in her arm, but her friend was killed. The trauma from that is something she still hasn't properly dealt with, and over her senior year of high school is proceeded to deteriorate several aspects of her life, the social parts more than anything.

She withdrew into isolation for a while, but near the end of her senior year her friends convinced her to skip school on a Friday and take a camping trip. It proved to be just what she needed, and started the process of turning her spirits around before she heads off to the east coast for a fresh start at a university.

But she never made it home. Freya got separated from the others on the road back, and pulled over to look up directions. That was when she felt the dizziness set in, and a few seconds later she slumped back in her seat. She woke up somewhere completely different.

Escaping The Faewoods - A Survival Horror RP

For your consideration, here is Freya. Planning to stick to one character for the moment, if that's alright.

Freya

Name: Freya Carstensen
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Appearance

Likes:

• Creating art
• Music
• Writing
• Nature, especially small animals

Dislikes:

• Coffee
• Hot weather
• Bossy, stubborn people
• Whispers make her deeply uncomfortable

Skills:

• Drawing and writing
• Climbing, specifically rock climbing
• Archery, if she could find a bow and arrows

Fears:

• True, complete silence, especially in darkness
• Nightmares

Inventory:

• Her phone
• Car keys
• A few hair ties

Personality: Freya's quiet on the surface, and not the easiest girl to open up. She'd much rather listen to others than talk about herself, and at times can seem secretive or sly. She may enjoy writing, but she's not the best with words when put on the spot. She's never made friends easily, something she's actually quite hard on herself about.

Despite her enjoyment of archery, Freya is not violent at all, practicing it at first as a way to spend time with a friend and later as a way to find some inner peace. She'll resort to violence only if she feels she has no other choice. Bravery is not something she lacks, though, and she'll jump at a chance to help others, so she can make ties with actions rather than words.

Freya has been looking for a fresh start around new faces for a while now. This is not exactly what she had in mind.

History: Freya grew up the younger of two children in a fairly well off family, spending most of her childhood in a moderately sized Pacific Northwest town. She had a stable, normal life for the most part, finding her interests in school in things like art and writing, and beyond it in activities like archery and rock climbing. Freya wasn't the most popular or outgoing girl, but she had a steady circle of friends and a healthy home life.

Her world was turned upside down at the age of 16, however, when she and her best friend were hit by a drunk driver while Freya was behind the wheel. She made it out with only a broken bone in her arm, but her friend was killed. The trauma from that is something she still hasn't properly dealt with, and over her senior year of high school is proceeded to deteriorate several aspects of her life, the social parts more than anything.

She withdrew into isolation for a while, but near the end of her senior year her friends convinced her to skip school on a Friday and take a camping trip. It proved to be just what she needed, and started the process of turning her spirits around before she heads off to the east coast for a fresh start at a university.

But she never made it home. Freya got separated from the others on the road back, and pulled over to look up directions. That was when she felt the dizziness set in, and a few seconds later she slumped back in her seat. She woke up somewhere completely different.

Don't step in the toadstool rings

Escaping The Faewoods - A Survival Horror RP

Interested!

Into The Depths!

Fiona de Valencourt

20 || 5'6" || 134 lbs.

Official Appearance

She's a little on the slim side for a fighter, but Fiona's plainly in excellent shape, with a poise and grace in motion only achievable through years of training. Her skin is fair and mostly unblemished or scarred, giving her a very "green" appearance as far as warriors go. She wears her strawberry blonde hair mostly loose, but partially braided behind her head into a ponytail.

"Generations are counting on us. I have to see this through."

Personality

---

Fiona feels the pressure to carry on her family's legacy, even if that's somewhat self-inflicted. She's eager to prove herself, and can be reckless at times, but it ultimately comes from good intentions. She doesn't want future generations of her family to need to sacrifice like the past ones have, and quietly dreams of a peaceful life in a world she's helped heal. She doesn't enjoy battle, but she'll dive into it head first if it needs to be done. She's quite hard on herself for her failures, particularly if it was someone else who paid the price for her mistake.

She can be a little too serious at times, always focused on the task at hand, but with a little persistence she responds well to the personalities around her, and adapts well to social situations even in tough times.

Biography

---

The de Valencourts have won great renown in the wars against demons. Fiona's grandfather was among the first to make use of God's Gift for warfare, and his descendants have carried on his work, one after the other accepting the gift and devoting their lives to the struggle. The weight of expectation was always on Fiona and her older sister Sophia, and they both accepted their fates without much in the way of hesitation.

They had more advantages than most growing up, as the de Valencourts earned a significant amount of power in multiple northern nations for their work, which meant Fiona was able to devote her time to training and preparation as a teenager. Never able to match her older sister, she nonetheless grew skilled and capable, all while the crusades raged on, up to the creation of the fortress at the edge of the abyss.

Times have changed, and now warriors are preparing for a new Crusade, to descend into the abyss, to battle demons and face the complete unknown. Sophia has spent two years in Zion already in defense of the city, now it's Fiona's turn to make the trip. Optimistic but nervous, she hopes she can make a difference in the grand scheme of things, and carry on her family's tradition of service to the future of humanity.

In Battle

Gift Spiritual Passives de Valencourt training || +1 Power, Skill, Resistance Fiona doesn't have much experience to speak of, but she has had some of the finest training a young warrior could ask for, and it has helped prepare her for the hard road ahead. Physical Attributes Power: 8 (Base 7, +1 from passive) Skill: 14 (Base 13, +1 from passive) Resistance: 6 (Base 5, +1 from passive) Spirit: 1 Action Points: 3 Health: 70

"I fight with Heaven's fire in my heart. I'll never give up!"

Spells and Feats

---

Blessed Smoke || 1 AP

Upon spell activation, white smoke wafts from Fiona's body. While the spell is active, she can briefly shift into an entirely-smoke state and move very rapidly a short distance in any direction, even up. Used to dodge attacks, quickly reposition, escape an enemy's grasp, or slip through very tight spaces.
Effect: Skill +6 (+4 spell, +2 vessel) on dodge attempts (ignored by certain magic attacks), lasts 3 turns.
Does Not End Turn

Angel's Fire || 1 AP

A swing of Fiona's sword launches a thin projectile of fire at a target. In addition to dealing damage, the fire rends through armor, making enemies more vulnerable to further attacks.
Effect: Power +3
Effect: Seared Armor, -4 Resistance (+2 spell, +2 vessel) for 2 turns.
Ends Turn

Heavenly Pierce || 2 AP

Fiona's strongest attack. After a brief moment to focus, she lunges forward behind her flaming sword in a straight line at high speed, taking smoke form and piercing through anything in her path, inflicting high damage. If the attack misses or is blocked, Fiona crashes to the ground, and is knocked Prone.
Effect: Power +12
On Miss or Block: Prone applied to Fiona.
Ends Turn

Minor Feat - Desperate Strength || 1 AP

Fiona focuses her inner spirit on her physical strength, gaining a boost to power while suffering a minor penalty to her toughness. If she's heavily wounded, her courage grants her even greater strength.
Effect: Desperate Strength (Power +2, Resistance -2) for two rounds. If at half health or below, power bonus is doubled.
Does Not End Turn

Inventory

---

de Valencourt Sword || P: +2 S: +3

A thin, one-handed straight sword, double-edged. An elegant, well-balanced, finely made weapon, it serves both as Fiona's tool for slaying demons and as a symbol of her family's relative wealth and power compared to much of the world. It was a gift from her mother, upon the completion of her training, and serves as a vessel for her magic.

de Valencourt Spellsword's Attire || S: +2 R: -3

Fiona wears a personalized uniform in her family's colors, clean white and solid red, the fabric thin and light and comfortable, well suited to the hot southern climate. The material and the expert tailoring mark her status somewhat, as does the gleaming, polished steel breastplate she wears. It serves as her only piece of real armor, leaving her light and fast in battle, but also more vulnerable to damage.

Miscellaneous Supplies

Basic medical supplies
Rations
Bedroll

Combat Notes/Roll Quick Reference

---

Notes

Basic Attack
Skill: 1d20+5 (14 Base = +2 mod, +3 weapon mod)
Power: 3d6+2 (8 Base = 0 mod, +2 weapon mod)
w/ Desperate Strength: add. +2 or +4 mod

Basic Defense
Skill/Dodge: 1d20+4 (14 Base = +2 mod, +2 armor mod)
w/Blessed Smoke: add. +6 mod
Resistance: 1d10-3 (6 Base = 0 mod, -3 armor mod)
w/Desperate Strength: add. -2 mod

Angel's Fire
Skill: 1d20+5 (14 Base = +2 mod, +3 vessel mod)
Power: 3d6+5 (8 Base = 0 mod, +3 spell mod, +2 vessel mod)
w/Desperate Strength: add. +2 or +4 mod
Effect: -4 Resistance mod on enemy, 2 turns

Heavenly Pierce
Skill: 1d20+5 (14 Base = +2 mod, +3 weapon mod)
Power: 3d6+14 (8 Base = 0 mod, +2 weapon mod, +12 spell mod)
w/Desperate Strength: add. +2 or +4 mod

To The Depths

Interested! I'm afraid I dunno that much about stat/dice systems, so I'm not sure how to answer your questions, but I'm interested to see where this goes.

Fog of Torvelt

Tentatively interested!

Into the Shadow

Iseldis slipped in and out of consciousness, the world spinning violently every time she managed to open her eyes. The witch's magic was intense in the pain that it caused, heavy in the toll that it took on her stamina, but in a fortunate twist of fate, it didn't defeat her utterly, and when she felt some semblance of stability returning to her senses, she felt some hope along with it. The worst of it was over, and the rest was something she could fight through, if only barely.

From the ground she reached blindly for her staff, unable to find it, and she soon gave up the effort. She was going to need more than the staff to win. Slowly but surely she rose, as though she'd joined the ranks of the shambling draugr they'd fought through the whole way. But by blocking everything else out, Iseldis was able to find a sort of center; she slowed her breathing, relaxed her body and her stance, felt the comforting touch of magic at her fingertips. She still had power to call upon.

The witch faced Roland, a few long strides away from Iseldis. The priestess had never been perfect in any part of her training, but she knew she'd need to be perfect now. One mistake would lead to her end, and probably Roland's alongside her. She wasn't about to let that happen.

Iseldis moved forward smoothly, calling into her hand a long, thin sword of light, elegant and deadly. The magic wasn't silent, and even over Roland's battle roar the witch heard it. Iseldis anticipated her opponent's response, sidestepping to cleanly avoid the stabbing attack from one of the few spider legs the witch had left. She saw a brief moment of uncertainty in the witch's eyes when they were face to face, right before Iseldis plunged the light blade into her gut.

It pierced cleanly through, burning as it went, with a magical fire that caught all through the witch's body, the cleansing force consuming with an almost alarming hunger. The witch shrieked in agony, twisting and contorting and swinging blindly with her clawed fingers at Iseldis. She ducked the swipe nearest to her throat, pulling her blade free. With one motion she spun about and sliced for the witch's neck, lopping her head off. The charred body fell to the floor, and suddenly the room was silent once more, all save for the sounds of their exhausted breathing.

No sooner had she finished it than the sword vanished from her hands into thin air, and a tidal wave of exhaustion washed over Iseldis. She wobbled, wavered, and then collapsed to her knees in front of her kill, needing to plant her hands on the dusty floor to keep herself from falling further.

"It's... it's over."
@POOHEAD189

Into the Shadow

"Not out of this yet," she answered, with half a smile. Iseldis wasn't sure she'd ever get used to life or death situations, but with Roland they were starting to become a little more manageable. And she was done holding back in this one.

The two dark elves before her were infuriated at the death of the third. No doubt with how small their numbers were, the death of any of their own hit them hard. They spaced themselves poorly, too close to one another, and Iseldis saw her chance. Twirling her staff, she channeled a strong spell through it, one end of her weapon glowing bright white. With a spin, she hurled the magic at the elves, a silver crescent of deadly magic flying at them. The closer of the two took more than half of it, his armor rent asunder, and he collapsed, a smoking husk of steel. The other was able to dive out of the way, but still caught enough in his left shoulder to damage him.

Iseldis felt a heavy drain on her body immediately after the spell ran its course, enough that she staggered forward a half step, but she caught herself and tried to blink away the fatigue. Just a little more to go, she told herself.

"Go," she urged Roland. "I'll take him from the side." Two on one, they'd be able to manage this last dark elf.

Staff in hand, Iseldis flanked around to the right, taking a circuitous route through the organizational mess that was this room. She allowed Roland to engage first before she started working her way in, eyes locked on the foe, searching for the best moment to strike. She didn't notice until it was too late that she'd set herself up for the very same thing.

A spell hit her from above and behind, foul and rank magic that washed over her in a wave. Instinctively she thought to put up a magical barrier in defense, but found her own magic cut off from her. She couldn't seem to draw a breath, or cry out to draw Roland's attention back. A sinewy substance that she recognized as webbing coiled around her throat, suddenly tugging her back several steps and just about pulling her feet off the ground.

The witch hung from the shadows above, latched onto the ceiling with her spidery legs, holding the thread that choked Iseldis. She peered down with pure hatred. "Ungrateful princess," she hissed. "Stop struggling, or I'll gladly gut you, the Master's orders be damned."

Iseldis only barely heard the words, focused instead on cutting herself free. Her staff had enough magic in it to do the trick, and with a swipe above her head she could finally gasp in a breath. She swung it again, catching the witch by surprise, and cracking her jaw. She fell roughly to the ground, and Iseldis tried to press her advantage while she had it with multiple downward strikes of her staff. She landed several hard blows, but took one swing too many.

The witch caught her staff, stopping it cold, and one of the spidery legs struck her across the face. Iseldis stumbled sideways, and suddenly the witch was on her feet again. Attacks flew at her, more than a few battering through her tired defenses, each one driving her away from where she'd lost sight of Roland. A powerful uppercut tossed her guard high and left her arms aching, and then a strong blast of offensive magic collided with her torso.

Iseldis was thrown back against the wall behind her, the sight of the room and the witch swimming before her. She felt herself sinking, losing strength, losing control. The witch had every opportunity to finish her off, but true to her word, it seemed she had other orders. Iseldis's staff slipped from her hand and clattered to the ground.

I can't... give up now... come on...

But it was a matter of endurance, not desire, and no amount of her desire to help Roland could keep Iseldis from crumpling to the ground on her side. The witch had already turned to fight Roland, not risking taunting words this time. It was all Iseldis could do to simply breathe, and try to get the strength to stand back while she could still make a difference.
@POOHEAD189

Destiny's Call (Grand Fantasy Roleplay)

Wish I'd found this sooner, the idea is super interesting. I'll do some reading and see if I can't think of a character to apply with.

Into the Shadow

Iseldis wasn't about to let him fight alone. The appearance of the armored elves had caught her off guard, and she had to force herself not to panic. She'd been bracing for another bout with the witch alone, and hadn't considered that she might bring such deadly help. But it was too late to reconsider. If they were to die here, at least it would be with weapons in hand. Not as prisoners.

She vaulted over a crate, and in one smooth motion kicked one of the elves that sought to flank Roland in the chest, driving him back. Close quarters against armored foes was a fight that played to Iseldis's weaknesses, but she had to try to disrupt the foe, keep Roland from being overwhelmed. She sent a flurry of staff attacks at the elf she'd singled out, but most had little effect against the ebony armor. The last attack he turned aside and in a smooth counter landed a cut to her shoulder.

She yelped, attempting to hop sideways to avoid anything else, only to bump into a low table that nearly tripped her. The dark elf's free hand closed into a fist, a punch of the armored gauntlet swiftly landing against her midriff. Iseldis had no armor to soften hits against her, so she took the full damage of the strike, which drained her breath and sent a tremor through her legs. She only barely got her staff up to deflect the downward swipe of the scimitar that came next.

But she did turn the attack aside, and quite effectively, giving her an opening to quickly swing horizontally with her staff, landing a heavy, jarring blow to the elf's helmet. It dazed him and sent him stumbling away. Iseldis thought to pursue, but a second elf flanked her unexpectedly, meaning Roland was left to fight one in single combat for a moment.

The flat of the second elf's boot caught her in the chest, tossing her back to tumble over the table and crash ungracefully to the floor. The obstacle luckily gave her a precious moment to recover, which she sorely needed. Breathe, damn it, she scolded herself, using her staff to get back to her feet. You won't last if you trade blows with them like this.

And still the witch had yet to appear. Where was she? Simply waiting for the right moment to strike?
@POOHEAD189