Pathfinder

Good and Evil. The Isle of Naroe. O=) VS >:E

WIP, its time for an overhaul.

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Name: Kaldor Grouhl, The Bog King

Race:

Weapons:
-Staff of the Ancients, a length of Iron Bark struck twice by lightning

Spells:
-Raise/Bind Dead
-Corrupt Land, Requires a ritual but when cast it covers a given area in blighted earth where no life can thrive and the dead rise.
-Bind Spirit, the cruelest of deaths. Should one die under the effects of this spell the spirit of the victim will be bound to Kaldor until released.

Abilities:
-Bane of the living, the living find it hard to be in Kaldor's presence due to his inherent wrongness but the opposite occurs with the dead. Kaldor is a beacon for the dead and their King calls to them.

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Good, Evil or fighting your own side: On the side of the dead.

History: Once upon a time there was a king who would do anything to empower his kingdom.



Previous battles: The Battle for the Frozen North, The war of Tal'Sharok, and hundreds more in his long unlife.

Allegiance: The Dead Kingdom

Call of Madness

Im in.

Five Nights Of Chaos (A FNAF Alternate Roleplay)

Added a voice, a theme, and a name change. I'm actually pretty proud of myself for remembering splatterhouse, I've been racking my brain for a voice that'd fit and I finally did with the Terror Mask.

No rest for the wicked (Cyberpunk rp with Vigilantes and crime lords)

I'm done.

No rest for the wicked (Cyberpunk rp with Vigilantes and crime lords)

@urukhai

Sorry its taken me five years to get back here, It's been super busy here and I've really only had time to focus on another RP I'm in. I'll be getting my character done soon.

Overlords: Four Evils United

Of his half siblings, Seirya was his least favorite. Like het mother she was too self absorbed to get along with and become overly cruel as time had passed. In short, she was an arrogant princess who was used to getting what she wanted. Kaldir did not like her at all and instead chose to interact with her as little as possible.

Moving passed Seirya Kaldir instead plucked a large mace from the weapon rack, a large thing nearly as tall as he was, and gave it a practice swing that shattered a large stone into fragments. Holding his weapon aloft, Kaldir spoke a simple sentence. "Let us take back what is ours."

Overlords: Four Evils United

Kaldir gave a dismissive grunt at the going one before him. Tower heart gone, minion hives gone, and who else knows gone. This was pathetic really, how everything fell apart after Fathers death. In the end it did not matter, it was time. "Finally." Kaldir said to no one I particular before leaving his siblings behind.

The walk was short in the grand scheme of things, only taking several minutes in all to reach the Forge. Gibblet's forge was Kaldir's favorite room personally, the flames warmed his flesh pleasantly and the ring of a hammer against steel was like music to his ears. Unfortunately it was cold and silent, everything taken from them. It was enough to cause his fists to clench together and his scowl to deepen, whoever took the forge would pay dearly for their transgression.

Luckily for all parties involved, Kaldir found his "gift" upon display. Gibblet had made it in the same vein of his father given their similar build. However it had symbols and busts of wolves instead of minions, most like at the behest of his mother. Interestingly enough his mother had used the pelt of a great black wolf as the cape, an old one at that. The edges where tattered and frayed, giving an air of menace to the already domineering aura of the suit.

At the feet of the suit lay a simple box with a note. Gingerly he picked up the box and looked at the note, written by his mother.

"My little witch boy, I may not be ready to accept it but you are ready for the outside world. Remember, aim for the heart, give no mercy, and raise hell."

Taking the lid off, Kaldir peered inside to find a black scarf. Removing the old one upon his face, Kaldir wrapped it around his head like his mother taught him and when he was done began to don his armor. The minions quickly assisting in its adornment.

Overlords: Four Evils United

Sorry, it's just been a little rocky here recently. I don't know when I'll be able to post regularly but I'll tell you when I can.

No rest for the wicked (Cyberpunk rp with Vigilantes and crime lords)

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Name: Warwick

Gender: Male

Age: 40

Appearance, Left Guy: 6'5 and in his early forties.

Augmentations:
-Cyber Eye, a cybernetic eye with many uses for his line of work. Magnification, various spectrums of light, and a vitals scanner.
-Reinforced Bones, due to a degenerative bone disease from his birth, Warwick has enhanced bone strength however that is only a positive side effect of keeping him together.
-Cyber Arm, simple. The arm replaces his left hand and reaches up to his elbow. Its main purpose is stabilization of any gun he holds, it is also far stronger than any human limb and is far more durable.
Cyber Leg, replaces right leg. The leg can propel Warwick at high speeds and leap to high places. Has a nasty kick.

Equipment: Owns an extensive armory but you will always se him with a powerful handgun, a combat knife, and several grenades.

Job: Hired muscle/Assassin

Aliases: The Enforcer

Notoriety/Fame Rating: B+, He is hired just as much for legitimate work as he is for shady.

Personality: Deadpan, dry, and blunt. Warwick is not afraid to tell you to what he thinks, unless you pay him not to. You see, Warwick is in this business for the singular purpose of making money and making a lot of it. His loyalty is only as deep as your pockets and unless you prove more interesting a client he will drop you off with the tip of a hat.

History: As a kid he was good at hurting people so he decided to make a job out of at, that's about it.

Overlords: Four Evils United

The minion trembled in Kaldir's fist as he rose it to his eyes. He was sure it would piss on him if he stared too intensely, but it was a brown and Kaldir had a certain fondness for them even if this one was just a house minion. Dropping the pitiful thing unceremoniously on the ground, Kaldir gave it another kick before it scampered off to some corner of the keep.

"Killing them only makes them useless, why waste the effort to break a tool that works?"

Of his siblings it seems that Kaldir was the only one who had inherited the spirit of martial domination, the will to stomp upon the skulls of the weak with an iron boot. Hanovar seemed more like the politicians of his mothers homeland, using honeyed words and intrigue to get what he wanted while his sisters reveled more in the bloodshed of things. A biased opinion but one he would stick with unless proven otherwise.

Kaldir himself paid little mind to the flourishes of his younger siblings, instead he stood ready for whatever news Gnarl had ready. Whatever it was it was bound to be important and he wanted to hear every bit of it.