Also, Marcone is proficient in dark magic, right? Just...just wanna be sure. Cuz we might need an anima mage. Or a light mage. Cuz we've pretty much hit the quota for dark mages.
Class: Dark Reaver Proficient In: Axes, Dark Magic Features: Tracking-Each successive attack against an individual enemy becomes more and more likely to hit, as a way to offset his poor aim.
Stats Strength - B Agility - D Constitution - C Mentality - C Skill - D
Inventory: Steel axe, Flux
Personality: Damien is a friendly man, glad to be close to those he fights with. He carries a profound respect for nobility, and is willing to risk his life for his friends and allies. He's a bit prejudiced against Laguz and Manaketes, but has also never met any in person, so his opinions aren't particularly solid in his mind. While he is ultimately honest and chivalrous, Damien has a penchant for jokes at others' expense, which doesn't always go over well.
Biography: Born to a poor family, Damien was conscripted as a guardsman for a local lord at the age of twelve, and his parents being compensated with a tax waiver. He showed an early and rare penchant for elder magic, and the lord's magical adviser immediately took him under his tutelage. Content in his position but yearning for more, Damien spent much of his free time with the other guardsmen, learning how to wield axes in combat from them. When the war began and the region's greatest military trampled through, slaughtering everybody in their midst, Damien fought to protect his lord and the residents of the fortress. When the fortress fell, however, their lord ordered the surviving guards to flee. Reluctantly, they left him to the invaders, though the revelation that he ultimately went unharmed released a weight from many of the former guards' minds. Now, Damien has joined Malakaya's Mercenary Corps in order to make a living and hopefully get revenge for the attack on his old post. Additional Info: Damien wears a small copper amulet that all of his fellow guards wore as identification.
A group of preteens sat around a campfire, watching their arms master slowly drag his twisted, evil-looking blade along a whetstone, a small smile on his face. “Alright, recruits, I've prepared another educational lesson for today. As always, it will be presented in the form of a story of my exploits. You'll be given a set of questions at the end, and will be judged based on how well you remembered the vital details of the tale.” As the trainees nodded, the white-haired man rose to his feet, sheathing his sword and bringing his hand to his chin. “It was while I was working as an independent Huntsman in the Kingdoms, before coming home.” ----------------------------------------------------------
Oswald carefully adjusted his pauldrons, rotating his arms a few times before nodding, satisfied that there weren't any problems. “Had to be fuckin' Vacuo, huh? Not Atlas? Not even Vale? No, the nest of Nevermores had to be in Vacuo.” As the Bullhead took off, Oswald sighed as he looked out the side window. Desert, as far as the eye could see.
Vacuo was a far cry from Brookeborough, or even Vale. There wasn't an actual tree to be seen for miles. At least Vale had a few major forests. Water was, obviously, scarce, and the daytime heat was murder on the heavily-armored Huntsman. He'd made a few additions since his arrival at Beacon, including several mecha-shift forms for his Trepanation Blade and a reinforced helm. All of these things only served to cause more grief for the man as he flew through the desert nation.
However, the nights were just as bad. As cold as the days were hot, his metal armor went from scathingly hot to frigid as ice when the sun set. Turning his head, Oswald addressed the pilot. “Once we've landed, I'd like you to maintain a distance of five minutes from the target area. Remain passive unless attacked or I call for help. One nest of Nevermores shouldn't be too tough, but these deserts give me the creeps. Too much open ground for the Grimm to just sneak up on ya.”
Letting out a chuckle, the pilot replied. “Yeah, nobody likes the desert. It's really just a sliding scale of dislike to vehement hatred. As for the mission, want me to circle the target area or stick by the LZ?”
“Stay about a quarter of the way from the Primary LZ to the Secondary. If things go tits-up, I don't wanna have to wait an extra minute or two while you haul your ass over my way, whatever way it goes.” Oswald gave himself one final check as they approached the initial drop zone, calming his breath as the Bullhead's ramp lowered.
“Alright, Connolly, we're touching down now! I'll hit the skies in about a minute, then wait for your signal. Remember, if you can't get me, send up a flare! Green for all clear, yellow for nonlethal contact, red for danger!”
Ah yes, the flare gun. Quite a wise decision, all in all. He had three of each flare type, just to be certain he wouldn't run out of a given number on anything worse than a massive, extended mission. This job was hardly an A-ranking without the sands; the only reason he'd taken it was because the reward was oddly high. Birds must've been pissing off some rich guy, he figured. Private contracts were, by far, a Huntsman's best option for making a reasonable living.
A few minutes into his walk, the wind picked up for a moment before Oswald realized how quiet the desert was at night. Without much insect life to fill the dark with their songs, the seemingly endless sands were eerily silent. Again, he was reminded of how different from his norm this country was, and of how much he just wanted to get the job over with and go home.
The sound of Nevermores in the distance gave Oswald pause. “Guess I've been walking longer than I thought. Damn deserts.” Unsheathing his sword, Oswald carefully loaded a lightning dust crystal into it. Many of the hours spent in the Armory working on his sword had made it significantly more efficient with Dust, so much so that a single crystal could power a continuous stream of energy for nearly a full minute, at an even greater power than it had when he first arrived at Beacon.
Why Vacuo hadn't simply sent a few Bullheads with Dustfire missiles, he would never guess, but the pay was good enough, so Oswald didn't mind. Placing his empty hand onto the guard of his sword, Oswald released a small lever on the weapon, causing it to expand outwards and start forming into a massive lance at least twice its original size. It was an idea he'd taken from Aurellius, but he found it more prudent to stay with his weapon's energy beam rather than fire Dust rounds.
When the mecha-shift was complete, Oswald moved forward, this time at a somewhat slower pace, aiming the tip of his weapon at one of the Nevermores. Taking a small breath, he pulled the trigger. A massive bolt of lightning exploded from the edge of his greatlance, lighting the desert scene for miles as one of the large flying Grimm nearly instantly burst into flames, screaming into the night. Oswald could only chuckle a little as he adjusted his veritable death cannon, lighting another avian Grimm aflame.
Seriously, this is too easy, he thought, when a geyser of sand erupted to his left and an unwelcome sight presented itself: a pair of Tutankhamun, both seemingly very angry at having their sleep interrupted. “Ah, fuck me!” Turning his body towards the newest threat, Oswald grunted in displeasure as his weapon served to do little more than stun the creature. Against most Klein and Feind-class Grimm, his Trepanation Blade's ranged attacks were deadly, but the Riesen-class ones tended to give it a hard time.
Rolling to the side as the monster charged, Oswald returned his weapon to sword form and pulled out his Scroll, opening to the radio channel with his pilot. “I got a pair of Tutankhamuns here, need some support!”
A moment later, the Scroll crackled with activity, pleasing the Huntsman. “Got it, Connolly, I'm on my way.”
“Alright, ya freaky lizard-thing! Get ready to DIE!”
Oswald suddenly vanished, appearing just above the Tutankhamun,grabbing hold of one of the massive spikes on its back. Ignoring the painfully loud roar it released, Oswald raised his sword high and drove it into the beast's side, eliciting an even louder roar as it attempted to shake the Huntsman off its body. Oswald held firm, though, and managed to move forward on the creature's back, repeatedly stabbing it along the side.
Deciding that enough was enough, Oswald jumped off the Grimm's back, dragging his blade through its flesh as he slowly descended past its side, rending black flesh from the monster as it roared in agony. Once his feet hit the ground, Oswald was met with the other Tutankhamun, which was nearly as angry as the first, which was bleeding out just next to him.
Preparing to repeat his attack, Oswald stepped forward once before a massive force struck him in the back, knocking him to the ground. Pushing himself off, the armored warrior was dismayed to see a trail of Nevermore feathers in front of him. Well, that explains one thing. Damn birds...
His brief respite was again interrupted as the Tutankhamun, enraged at being ignored, charged Oswald with its head near the ground, undoubtedly trying to grab him in its jaws and crush him. While he was known for his durability, Oswald wasn't certain he could survive getting bitten by a Tutankhamun more than once, and even that could be a stretch.
With a desperate roll, he managed to avoid being snatched in the jaws of the Riesen, but was still winged by the Grimm's massive skull, a pained groan escaping as he was launched a few dozen feet by the impact. Dizzily getting to his feet, Oswald gave a battle cry before the familiar sound of a Bullhead made him stop.
After a short moment, the turret on the Bullhead's chin opened fire, sending a torrent of rounds into the Tutankhamun, much to the monster's chagrin. Its relatively durable skin managed to halt most of the rounds on impact, but as the Bullhead continued to move around and adjust its fire, the tyrant lizard roared in pain. Black blood leaked from its few wounds, and the pilot called out to Oswald on his Scroll. “Connolly, finish this thing off, I'll get the Nevermores!” Turning, the Bullhead's mounted gun unleashed another wave of fire, this time on the colossal birds that were starting to harass it.
“Got it.” Transforming his weapon into its greatlance form, Oswald teleported to the rear of the Tutankhamun, leaping forward to spear it in the leg. Too slow to avoid the sudden movement and attack, the Grimm stumbled, allowing Oswald to move and attack its other leg. Slashing instead of stabbing, Oswald managed to tear out a massive chunk of the Tutankhamun's heel, forcing it to the ground as its roars of agony filled his mind.
As his blade rapidly shifted back to its more compact sword form, Oswald approached the Grimm's head. Raising it slowly, Oswald brought the sword down quickly, gouging a line through its jaw. He spent another minute or so mutilating the monster, ensuring that it did not recover.
Looking to the sky, the dark-themed hunter rose his Scroll to speak. “Tuts are dead. Need any help?”
“Not really. I think you just figured out why they wanted to send a Huntsman instead of just blasting the bastards outta the sky. A little warning might've been nice, is all.”
Chuckling, Oswald shrugged and started making his way to the rendezvous point. “That's why you're here!” -------------------------------------------------------------
Sitting on his old, worn stump, the arms master looked over his pupils. “Now, the questions. We'll start off with the easy stuff. Why did the pilot and I have a flare warning system, despite the fact that it was totally unneeded for that mission?”
Most of the students immediately raised their hands, and he was hard pressed to pick one, but after a few moments of thinking, he pointed to a blond boy sitting with his hands in his lap. “Geoffrey? Why do you think I carried the flare gun, even if I didn't need it?”
Surprised, the youth floundered for a moment before finding his voice. “Ummm, was it because...you had to be sure in case your Scroll didn't work?”
“Yes! Communication between members of a team is of the utmost important in the field. That is why, when all of you go on your first hunts, you'll be going with flares and radios, so that you can warn us if you come across anything you can't handle.”
Rubbing his chin, Oswald looked out over his students. “Next question. What was important about the way I fought the Tutankhamuns?”
After a few moments, a redheaded girl raised her hand to speak. “The most dangerous part of a Tutankhamun is its mouth, because it can bite through almost anything, even the hardened bone plates of other Grimm.” Nodding, the elderly trainer smiled.
“Very good. No matter how tough you are, or how thick your armor is, a Tutankhamun will bite through you like tissue paper. That was why I made use of my Semblance to teleport above the first, and behind the second. I was lucky that I avoided the second one's charge as well as I did, despite the fact that it ultimately fractured four of my ribs. Thankfully, adrenaline and Aura dulled the pain until I was waiting at the extraction point.”
“Now, my last question before we start sparring. What is the most important lesson to take from this story?” Oswald looked out over his students, glad that many of them had at least an idea of what he wanted them to say.
“Vacuo sucks?” One girl joked. “Always remember to dodge to the side, and not run away in a straight line from the thing chasing you?” Another said, somewhat seriously.
“Both good points. But no. You have to remember to always call for support immediately when the situation becomes too much to handle, not afterwards. Had I waited for the Nevermores to arrive before calling for backup, they'd have overrun me along with the Tutankhamuns. I barely survived with one or two Nevermores harassing me, if the swarm had gotten there, I certainly would have died.” Nodding in understanding, the children all looked to Oswald as he stood.
“Alright, kids, I think you've gotten the point. Just remember that when you're sparring and such. Grab your weapons, let's go!”
Pretty kewl. But don't worry, I already have plenty in mind for Oswald that even if I did a pile bunker, it'd probably have to wait until second or third year.
FINALLY made a character! Also, Crimson, is your Tactician guy proficient in Dark/Elder magic? I figured that was it because he has Nosferatu, but...well, you didn't specify o.o
Class: Dark Reaver Proficient In: Axes, Dark Magic Features: Tracking-Each successive attack against an individual enemy becomes more and more likely to hit, as a way to offset his poor aim.
Stats Strength - B Agility - D Constitution - C Mentality - C Skill - D
Inventory: Steel axe, Flux
Personality: Damien is a friendly man, glad to be close to those he fights with. He carries a profound respect for nobility, and is willing to risk his life for his friends and allies. He's a bit prejudiced against Laguz and Manaketes, but has also never met any in person, so his opinions aren't particularly solid in his mind. While he is ultimately honest and chivalrous, Damien has a penchant for jokes at others' expense, which doesn't always go over well.
Biography: Born to a poor family, Damien was conscripted as a guardsman for a local lord at the age of twelve, and his parents being compensated with a tax waiver. He showed an early and rare penchant for elder magic, and the lord's magical adviser immediately took him under his tutelage. Content in his position but yearning for more, Damien spent much of his free time with the other guardsmen, learning how to wield axes in combat from them. When the war began and the region's greatest military trampled through, slaughtering everybody in their midst, Damien fought to protect his lord and the residents of the fortress. When the fortress fell, however, their lord ordered the surviving guards to flee. Reluctantly, they left him to the invaders, though the revelation that he ultimately went unharmed released a weight from many of the former guards' minds. Now, Damien has joined Malakaya's Mercenary Corps in order to make a living and hopefully get revenge for the attack on his old post. Additional Info: Damien wears a small copper amulet that all of his fellow guards wore as identification.
Hee hee, yup. I'm absolute Fate garbage - I can't help myself. This character started out as something else and sort of morphed into pseudo-Shirou, and for this RP I just decided to go all the way.
And Rin is best girl, for sure.
Shirou is such a newb. But I did model a bunch of Oswald's personality off of him. And how I used to be, in my cringeworthy high school days.
Yankee,
TruthHurts,
princess,
Plank Sinatra,
flat lovenote,
abc
