Pathfinder

Circus of Freaks

Saw the interest check, did some digging, and found the RP. If your still taking than here he is.

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Name
Virgil "Gator Man" Dufrene

Age
27

Gender
Male

Appearance
Virgil is an extremely large individual, reaching about seven and a half feet in height and 350 pounds of muscle and scaly skin. With scales comes rough and tough skin that has a grey look to it, with softer and lighter scales along his belly and inner thighs. His eyes are a bright orange color that glows softly in the dark but can turn into a bright red when enraged. Virgil's teeth are sharp, numerous, and fairly crooked with some poking out of his lips which gives him a feral look that easily scares normal people.

Abilities
Strongman: Not only is Virgil a big man, he is a strong one as well. Able to lift approximately four thousand pounds, crush stone in his hands, and tear cars apart piece by piece.

Cook: Virgil is a master cook in the ways of Cajun cuisine and makes on of the best gumbos on the planet. The only drawback is that with his giant size he tends to make more than anyone else can possibly eat in one setting, plus he makes it spicy.

Scales, pain, and regeneration: All the scales, save the ones on his chest, belly, and inner thighs, are bullet proof to small arms fire. His nervous system lacks pain sensors and instead are replaced with a dull awarness to pain rather than the usual sharp and distressing feeling. Lastly his body regenerates at a fast rate which is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing as he can regenerate wounds that would take weeks to heal in a matter of days and a curse in that he is slowly becoming more animal than man with each coming year.

Personality
A bit of a grump, Virgil has grown bitter over his 27 years of being called a freak, abomination, and monster by both family and total strangers. However when he is around friends he becomes a lot less grumpy and opens up a lot more. Cracking jokes and offering to cook dinner most of the time. Virgil also has a bit of a dark sense of humor and likes to allude that he was once a cannibal to scare people. Lastly Virgil is a staunch believer that he shouldn't have to wear either shirts or shoes because 1) he can't fine anything his size, and 2) he is just doesn't like them. Pants however, are ok in his book.

Bio
Vigil hails from the heartland of Cajun country, Arcadiana. From the bayous of the south, Virgil always knew he was different. It wasn't the fact that he was always a full head and shoulders larger than the other children or the fact that by ten years of age he began to grow hard lumps on his skin or the fact that he was losing all his hair by twelve. What made Virgil different was the fact that he didn't care. The kids would tease him playfully growing up, his parents would remark on how strong he was, and the preacher man would compliment him as a wonder of god. However, by fifteen his condition became a lot more...grizzly. The lumps turned to scales, the strength became monstrous, and the praise turned to damnation.

In the eyes of the townsfolk of his little town, Virgil was a monster. Gator boy, abomination, freak, monster, all of those and more. However Virgil didn't care, he was special... he knew it. However, several more years of that and he had had enough. Virgil accepted it as truth. He was a freak, a monster, something that could only be hated and feared. He left and went to the bayous that would become his home for many years. Eventually, Virgil found out about the circus when it came to town. It was the first time Virgil had left the swamp in years and his effect of his return was almost immediate. The people actaully liked him for once, the freak show had opened their eyes. However he was filled with nothing but disgust with their actions. Years of shunning and exiling him, and they had the audacity to act like nothing happened?

He spoke to Gregori as soon as he could and when they came to an agreement, Virgil left with them. If he was going to be a freak than he might as well live with some.

|Heroes Among Us|

With a smile plastered on her face Suzy began to walk towards the house they would be living in. It was pretty big and the grounds around it were pretty, like the said rock outcropping were the bath just was. Suzy took her time getting from point A to B as she waited for Cassandra to catch up with what she was doing, whatever those words did was pretty amazing. She would have to make a note to ask about it more later but for now something more important than that train of thought was the little thing fluttering around her head.

It was a small thing, a tiny body but large and beautiful wings. It flew around with little "Thwip, thwip, thwips" and it was one of the prettiest things she had ever seen. Searching her banks, Suzy was a little dissapointed that she didn't know what this was. However she knew not to be too surprised, she had known only the compound in her life and it was doubtful that this little thing would have been useful in her studies. However it was pretty all the same and when Cassandra caught up it gently fluttered away. Mesmerized as it flew, Suzy said "Cassandra, what was that just now...I haven't seen anything like it before."

Crystal Sun: Age of the Mercenary

Name: Lug

Age: 46

Gender: Agender

Species: Ork

Appearance:

A standalone Nob of advanced age, Lug has grown up to be 10 feet tall over the years and has gotten several shades darker than the bright green of his youth.

Planet of Residence: N/A, lives on his ship.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, Lug doesn't care about petty things like good or evil. All he wants are good fights, drinkable grog, and things to fix.

Faction: Mercenaries

Position/Occupation: Mek Boy, a sub order of Ork. Mek Boyz are belched into existence with an instinctual knowledge as to how machines work. As such they are perfect for quick fixes and dangerous, if not chaotic, weapons.

Psionic?: Besides the 'Ead Powa he has none.

Weapon:
-Ork Big Shoota: A powerful gun with lots of slugs and not a lot of accuracy. The thing uses a specialty ammunition known only by Orks that is quite the doosy when they make contact with people.

Ork Slug

1. A solid-fuel rocket propellant base
2. An outer casing containing conventional charge
3. Gyrostabiliser
4. Mass-reactive fuse. Has a split-second timer to delay detonation upon impact until after the shot penetrates the target.
5. Hardened diamantine penetrating tip. This allows for the slug to penetrate most armor before detonation.
6. Main Charge
7. Depleted uranium core. This is a very dense material, adding weight and thus momentum to the round when in flight. This aids in the slug's penetration of the victim.

Powa Fist: His left hand is an unconventional powerfist when in melee mode. The faulty wiring gives his punches an exceptionally electrifying punch.

Personality: A mean, green, fighting machine. Lug is typical for his species in all aspects save for his drive to be independent. He loathes when people tell him what to do and as such hates the Warboss's of his people. Traveling the stars has filled Lug with a purpose greater than the constant wars of Morkathal, fighting for a profit. It isn't very hard to sway his services, jingle enough credits his direction and he will switches sides in an instant. However, his fee jumps exponentially should he already be with another faction.

Backstory: Lug started out life as your average boy, belched out of the earth punching and kicking. Afterwards he was given some clothes to wear, a choppa to chop with, and sent forwards to kill things. Life was simple for the green ball of anger and drunken rage, however something was missing. That something was his Mek instincts telling him to fix all the useless guns and meks lying around. Eventually he got to them, satisfying his itch while making his tribe even more powerful. Now armed to the teeth, his tribe mopped the floor with the weaker tribes and eventually became a thorn in the resident Warband's side.

The current war boss had enough when this little tribe took out his major supply route with well placed charges and a lot of orkpower. This act of defiance sparked the powder keg of war between the war boss and the tribe in what would be called "Da Runt War" which would end a decade later with the warbosses head on a boss pole and Lug's boss the new War Boss of the region. As a reward for supplying the tribe with better Dakka, War Boss Smashface gave Lug a broken down ship that they had found deep in one of the many jungles of Morkathal. Jump forward twenty years and Lug had a space worthy, if not ratty looking, ship. Several years of travelling and battle through the stars Lug has gained enough of a name for himself as a mercenary that other Orks have begun to join him on his journey through the stars as his loyal crew.

Other: N/A

Theme Song (Optional):

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Tales of Kadasia (A Anthro Medieval fantasy)

You just linked us to this thread.

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

9 isn't gone, not completely. I was too attached to him to kill him outright, he still lives on as a part of Roland and will show up from time to time in magic stuff.

Warhammer 40,000; Vigil

Nah its cool, I wasn't really feeling the character as it was. I just wanted the roles to be filled, but if you want take control than go ahead.

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

Character Name: Knight-Cleric Roland/Frelseren

Species: Human/Vovatenem Hybrid

Species description: A strange combination of human and vovatenem anatomy.

Gender: Male

Noteworthy Abilities / Limitations:
Strengths:
-Knight: While not the worlds best swordsman in the world, when paired with his armor and shield he is a force to be reckoned with.

-Cleric: Roland has the fallowing spells unique to the Clerics of Iomedae.

• Holy Light: A powerful, blinding light that has many properties. Healing light, repel undead, generate light, banish evil spirit, and purify water.


• Holy Fire: A blue/white flame that burns evil beings and undead but leaves the pure of heart unscathed. Can purify poisons of the blood however the process is excruciating.


• Halo: A white circle glows over Rolands head, giving him increased strength, resolve, and durability over that of normal men.


• Magic Eyes: His eyes have been replaced with magic ones which give him the ability to see the aura of people. However concealment magic can hide it from his gaze.

-Frelserens Gift: Frelseren's "death" was greatly over exaggerated. When his soul merged with Roland's he imparted with it his ability of adaptation and great psionic powers. While it isn't as great as the late Frelseren, it does give him the ability to adapt to changes in the air, heal much faster, read the memories of others, and project psychic screams.

Weaknesses
-Just a man: Roland may be combined with a great and powerful creature, but he is still just a man with the weaknesses that come with it.

-Untrained: When it comes to Frelseren's psychic powers, Roland is at a loss as to what to do. They come and go with his emotions.

-Argument: Not an argument in the traditional sense. The binding of the two souls is so complex that not even Roland knows whats him and whats Frelseren. As such their mixed morals get in the way of each other.

-Disdain: Roland hates evil and the undead. Should he meet one he will be compelled to smite it.

Background: Back to when Roland was a boy, he went by another name. What it was he does not know for it has been too long since he has heard it. However he does know what happened that made him who he is today. A little farm boy, being pushed into the cellar as his mother cries and his father screams the sound of death outside. Hurried declarations of love as the door gets pounded upon by monsters of nightmarish origins. Then silence as his mother is torn apart.

The only sound for the rest of the night was the sound of tearing meat and groans of pleasure as the creatures devour his parents. That is, until they turn to screams of terror as heavy boots and the sounds of swords unsheathing fill the air. When it was over, the only sound was the breathing of a man who had just fought for his life. Peeking out of his hole, Roland met the man who would become his future.

Joining the order wasn't hard. He learned the ways, read the books, and prayed to Iomedae. When he was of age he became a squire. Sharpening swords, fetching manuscripts, and training hard was the M.O. of his life. After several long and grueling years as the squire he became the apprentice. Learning the finer points of worshiping Iomedae and how to use her blessings against evil beings. Prayer, meditation, and eventually enlightenment. At the age of seventeen he became a full fledged cleric of Iomedae.

His first mission as a cleric was to clear out a large nest of ghouls with several knights from the brother order, The Knights of Torag. When the young warriors entered the cave they discovered that it was a far more dire situation than they could have ever known. The foul creatures had created a large and twisting tunnel system underneath not only his home kindom but also underneath many of its graveyards. In essence able to create a large army of undead beasts. Undeterred, the group sent the youngest and most inexperienced knight to send word to both the orders and entered the cave system knowing full well it was suicide.

Hours later and hundreds dead, it was only Roland. Injured and battered, he was sure that the next wave of ghouls would be his death. Bracing himself for his coming end he was filled with a light of unimaginable power. What happened next he didn't know. Only that he was not in the same place he blacked out and was instead in a realm of perpetual light. That was when the voice spoke to him. It said that his destiny lay in a land far from his own, a land torn with war and strife. Eblistan.

Confused, Roland tried to speak to the voice before he was brought back to reality in a ball of light. Bleeding to death as a battle raged in the distance. That was when the new voice came.

Appearance: A handsome man with strong features. His hair is a messy mop of blond hair about 3 inches in length and while he tries to keep on top of his facial hair its a losing battle as it grows faster than he has time to shave it. As a result he has a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow. Standing at 6'2 with a toned body built by years of diligent training while his body is also marred by many scars. Some from swords and some from the claws and teeth of ghouls. However his most outstanding feature is his eyes. Normally they glow a brilliant blue as they swirl with a cloud of magic but when the influence of Frelseren comes up they instead crackle with green lighting.

Reason for Detainment: N/A

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

My issue with that is that I've lost my connection with 9 and there's no use kicking a dead horse. However I plan on remedy that with a character I've been ruminating on, if that is SyrianHamster will keep me on.

Crystal Sun: Age of the Mercenary

Done, I'll start on a character later this weekend.

Crystal Sun: Age of the Mercenary

Name: Ork or Orcanus to fancy people.

Appearance:

Ork's are a large but squat race. Heavy set in their physiques, Orks are a bright green at birth but grow steadily darker as they live and fight. The average size of an adult Ork is around seven foot even however the oldest and most battle hardened individuals can get to twelve feet in height. They are, as a whole, have no gender but sound male.

Faction: The Orks, as a race, have no allegiances to any one faction but are hired by both.

Star-System: Lenrohme

Home Planet: Morkathal

Ability Traits:
-Ork Anatomy: Orks have an anatomy unique to the galaxy. They seem to be part fungus with chlorophyll found laced into their skin and spores released continuously released throughout their lives, but have a single large release at death. This gives them a large advantage during prolonged conflicts as they would only need sun, water, and a little meat. Along with their plant like nature they also have an incredibly large pain tolerance, able to ignore small arms fire.

-'Ead Powa Orks, when gathered in large groups, have a powerful psychic ability. What they believe becomes reality, to a point. Things painted yellow explode bigger, things painted red go faster, things painted blue are lucky, and orange & purple are stealth colors. "You 'eva seen an orange Ork?". This ability also seems to be the only reason why some of the purely Ork equipment seems to work, as they believe it will.

Culture: Orks have a strict hierarchy of who is in charge. If you are bigger, than your the boss. That's it. However the sizes are broken down in several ladders.
-Boyz: The lowest rung of the ladder. Fresh from the pits, these mean and green bastards are willing to prove themselves in any way they can.
-'Ard Boyz: Boyz that have at least a decade or two underneath their belts. Through their travels they have gained several feet to their name and grown several shades darker.
-Nob: Big ol' bastards roughly 10 feet tall in height, a very muddy green.
-War Boss: The biggest and the best. These guys get the best gear and are one mean bugger to kill.

However, there are exceptions to the rule. A Nob could plant himself as boss but his position would always try to be contested by bigger Orks vying for his seat.

Racial Characteristics: Mean, green, and daft. These bastards are however one of the most tenacious creatures in the galaxy with a wicked streak a mile wide.

History: A long time ago, longer than any Ork even cares to remember, there was just war. Orks have never been unified, at least not for long. Each day was another battle, each day a new river of blood was created. Orks didn't care, to them it was just another day and each day was fun. If they didn't know any better than they could assume that they were created for battle, but that would be silly.

Eventually, some species found the miserable rock and "uplifted" the race. Since then they have been the scourge and boon of whoever had enough money. Of course, the Orks thought the whole situation to be extremely fun. With all these guns lying around, it was a whole new ball game of war. It didn't take long for the Orks to infest other planets and create their own technology powered by their collective psychic powers. Since then, the Orks have stationed themselves as a species of mercenaries and cannon fodder renowned around the galaxy for their simplicity and effectiveness.

Other: N/A