Status

Recent Statuses

5 mos ago
Current Chairman Nao preaches the eternal truth. Glory to Chairman Nao!
1 like
5 mos ago
Yes you did but where I come from, your wife is all our wife
1 like
5 mos ago
Actually virgin it's benis lol
9 mos ago
Oh quit being such a joyless sob. And respond to my 1x1 DMs, dammit. you really complain that nobody wants your 1x1s and you ignore me. harry potter and the audacity of this bitch, ya'll
22 likes
9 mos ago
Vrei să pleci, dar nu mă, nu mă iei Nu mă, nu mă iei, nu mă, nu mă, nu mă iei
3 likes

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

@ERode @PigeonOfAstora

She had just gotten done folding up her cigarette container -- Katerina didn't even have time to shake her head in disapproval. Hurriedly, she moved alongside the forward advance: Serenity, Lein, and their little motley crew, cigarette alight as she made her way forth.

"Ugh, bloody fuck!" the witch-knight groaned, half-mumbling her words. Puffs of smoke fumed with frustration out of every word. "Cannae fetch up a bloody plan before we go an' storm tae' bloody castle?!"

Her ears perked up at Lein and Serenity's regards, calling for just her specialty. With two armoured fingers, Katerina plucked her cigarette from her mouth, resting it in the in-between of tranquility and fire -- elegance and burnt ends. The sorceress nodded back to her compatriot, dropping into a wider stance.

"Aye. I ken i'm able."

A motley crowd of adversaries littered the palisades before her. Cecilia and the entire whole lot of them had already been doing numbers on them, breaking them apart -- but they had will to them. Discipline, too, to boot. As Katerina begun her incendiary hymn, the faint fume of the cigarette ignited to life, then from that smoldering effluvium roared into a blaze. It grew in size, with every passage and hypnotic word, the fireball held in Katerina's hand roared larger and higher, swirling in size, spiraling into a vortex as flame enveloped her. The poor souls in front of her saw the firestorm in conjuration -- the wisest of the lot broke from their formation, scattering to the sides as they dove and flung themselves out of the way. The lesser of the pack stood with their shields up, propping together something resembling a phalanx defence.

Katerina delivered one last chanson -- and the firestorm rushed from her hands unto the front. A controlled pillar of fire burst the ranks and beams before them, smelting them all into a homogeneous pyrolithic smog. The entrance made little time wasting itself away before the inferno, melting away to an entrance usable by her allies. Katerina seemed steady to control the great conflagration, consciously controlling every swirl and fire-gale from the twitches of her fingertips like the conductor of an orchestra. Her fiery sonatra raised itself carefully above, allowing her friends and allies entrance -- from her unflinchingly uncomfortable expression, Katerina urged them all to move quickly, wondering to herself just how long she could maintain this great firestorm.

"A stranger? Here? In Hōnshu-kuo? You've chosen a terrible time to come here."

"These are dangerous days...the Crimslings roam the Wilds -- That is their kingdom, and They rule it as if They are kings..."

"And what goes out to the Wilds nary come back -- and those that do...They are terrible things."

"Go, now."

"If the Beasts will not take you, the Kanbu will."



The world has become a small place -- so intimate, and all the more terrifying. What remains of mankind huddles together, scattered in the Arks: Entrenched hovels, platformed acropoli -- massive stakes of steel and concrete which pierce into the veins of the Earth. Each Ark is a colossal continuum of underground metropolis upon sprawling slum upon industrial park hath seen it blossom into a spoiled metallic onion. They are the collections of days long past, each one cradling the people of the world.

This is Honshu. It is known by many names -- to it's colonial overlords, past and progeny, it is Hâncheau, The Pearl of the East, and Dominion to Ardagne: Le Régime Éclairé. To those who have lived and toiled their blood away until they fainted white, it is Hōnshu-kuo. On their maps, The Dominion is a single entity: Honshu, in truth, was -- and still is -- a country of systemic irregularities: Administrative, legal, judicial, and ecclesiastic divisions and prerogatives frequently overlapped, while the Ardic nobility struggled to maintain their rights in the matters of local government and justice. All the while, the Samurai clans of Honshu met their fate, either as gravestones or as eager collaborators to the Régime Noveau.

But even this is but a tenuous connection: With The Fray receded, the powers which stay standing squabble over the remnants. Mayors and chieftains, like bickering children, argue over the responsibilities -- who shall re-tether the elektralines, who shall give the most men to scout the wilds, who shall fire their furnaces and forges the longest, who shall contribute the more food-stock: And who shall receive the lions share. Alliances formed in the fires of battle have grown brittle and cold, and the relations that kept the Dominion through peril for centuries is now poised to crumble at the seams. The Arks are all beset by bickering from within and beasts from without.

Now, it is a kingdom with no monarch -- a colony with no overlord. It is a confused and broken land, its image and identity long shattered and dusted to the winds of time which ground it all to grain in the sands of time.

The task before the good Hunters, banded in blood in their Kanbu, remains as steadfast as it was at its inception, even amidst this tumult.

The Crimson Tide must be stopped. The beasts within it felled, their bodies burned and scattered to the winds. Scientific samples collected. Fields and forests razed to contain its flow. And from this broken mirror, its pieces scattered before this ancient Earth, do what you must to gather the pieces, scraping them into some semblance of a whole, before the will to do so fades.



So what's this about needing a GM?
I'm going to be honest. I'm a really busy guy -- I got college, rugby, and work to deal with. This idea itself was based off of another earlier RP idea with a similar premise that didn't get far because of the same thing. I think it'd really work best if there was someone else to really help take the reins, ideally several other people who are as really into it as everyone else in the group is!

What is this RP about?
In this Late Fantasy world, there was once ago a grave threat from a mysterious force that humans could only sense as a thick, crimson mist. The Tide transformed men and creatures into terrible, twisted beasts, and wrought terrible carnage upon the world. Only with the great efforts of The Hunters did the tide of the miasma stem, but the two have fought one another to a vicious and brutal standstill. As one of the hunters, you must fight the monsters when they appear, and find more information about where they come from and most effective ways to rid of them.

What are hunters and kanbu? What do they do?
From ragtag, raggedy militiamen to professional scientists and accomplished fighters, hunters are a motley bunch. In the most open-ended sense of the word, kanbu are any organized band assembled (ostensibly) to take on the threat of the Crimson Tide. Kanbu vary greatly in organization, discipline, equipment, and size.

Kanbu are -- for better or worse -- closely intertwined with the politicking that goes on within the Arks. Often employed by large merchants and influential aristocrats to protect their property and allies, Kanbu take after their samurai clan ancestors, operating somewhere between law enforcement and gangs-for-hire. Vicious rivalries exist between Kanbu and their various allies, often escalating into threats, arson, and open violence.

Where will the RP take place? What's the setting?
The RP will take place in the Dominion of Hâncheau (Honshu or Hōnshu-kuo), mostly containing the Ark of Sainte-Azélie (Honshu: Ayahara).

The setting is Middle-High Fantasy -- somewhere between the lines of steampunk and urban fantasy, with generous dashes of noir. Think something sort of similar to Yharnam, or Ghibli films even. Check out some more in the lore tabs if you want more specific examples.

Is the focus of the RP more on combat or the characters?
I'd like to think that we would have a seamless mix between the two. Ideally, I would enjoy something close to a 60/40 mix from Characters:Combat, as the tonal themes I was drawing inspiration from here were mostly noir horror and various dark fantasy anime such as Claymore and Attack on Titan. If you really want, you can think of it as RWBY, but like, not written by two inexperienced nerds who ship their self-inserts with their 17 year old OCs!

Will there be a Discord?
If there's enough interest, then i'll make a server.



@ERode

The mystifying and horrifying scenes all at once which were the sight of the bandit slaughter before Katerina gave her an odd reminiscence. She was primarily trained in life magic - healing - and that, as she had come to expect was the bulk of her duties. For all love of life and liberty that was so cherished among the Iron Rose Knights, the half-elf flashed back in time in her head at the sight of these things. She remembered the blood-soaked battlefields, the men, pale in face, weak in eyes, faintly trembling outstretched hands up, murmuring a final hopeful prayer to Goddess or one last love declaration to a beloved now widowed. Katerina saw it all before her once again, but this time, in negative. There were traitors, thieves, renegades, and rogues, and at the same time wished to utter strangers to let them know their final thoughts. Katerina found oddity in the sincerity of it all that persisted in her mind, like a deep mist that gathered in the bogs of the valley.

And soon before her, the knightess-in-waiting broke her muse: "Dame Katerina, how fares Sir Rickert's charge? Will he live to see another dawn?"

Katerina's muse snapped back to the present, her gaze making a disenchanted turn as Serenity posed her query. There unto her was presented the so-honourable cohort of Sir Rickert. He lay there before her, so illucid -- stiff in body, slow of mind. Upon his faint stammering display was matched with the departing lives of the turncoats around them, the knights accelerating their wounds to fatality. She did not understand the Knights she had called brothers and sisters in arms: She had seen them show untold kindness and utter brutality within swift transition, as if stanza of an orchestra raising to climax. Wasn't this so funny? We had killed so many who lay wounded or dying, and now yet another comes with queer of injury, and Katerina was now asked to save him.

Katerina hummed, narrowing her eyes and motioning, and with telekinesis softly laid the man down. As he was steadied into an auspicious position, Katerina removed her gloves, The blood was well along staining his plate, though it'd stayed mostly along his upper body. Not much splatter. She looked into his gashes, removing his coif and cloth. She lightly hymned, whispering into a steady chant as she presided over him. A faint light grew around his exposed flesh, where it grew a deep purple that spread like dye in water. Blood grew clots and gashes around his neck, and as his body lay growing bruised and broken, the good fellow sputtered out in weak coughing fits. Katerina sighed in relief at the sign of even this meek display of life.

"Lovely, isnae too coarse." she answered. Her breathy response was practically a sigh of thankfulness made unto voice, "The lad will be fine, but I ken he'll need proper bedtime. Bonnie man will be in and oot of bed for a few months, but he'll make it."

The banter from ahead caught her ear, even as she attended to the wounded before her. Interrogations had proven successful -- no doubt due to the apt displays of horror about them, and clear signs of their fates all on parade, and the Iron Roses had deciphered the details of the upcoming bandit's fortress. Fusillades and fantastic beasts were the name of their game. Katerina remembered: They were all too-common features of so many impromptu fortresses in the War, and so fitting it was that they would have refurbished so many to use now.

"I need a bloody cigarette..."

The witch-knight shook her head, adjusting her mage's hood and coif beneath it into a neater position, then reached back down to her little baroque case, opening it with a pop audible even through the commotion. She popped a single cigarette into her mouth, covering the light wind with her curled fingers and palm, then closed her eyes as a faint flame conjured from her fingertips. A faint, smokey tartness flooded the winds around her as the little cigarette flared to life.

Katerina gestured back at her sister-in-arms, patiently awaiting their next orders: Her cigarette case was open, posed for Serenity to take one. She should probably save these for herself...but what the hell, she thought.
Katerina spotted something out in the middle of the road -- a man, his blood nearly bursting as he barely limped to his side weakly. She looked over him, the old fellow barely seeming to keep it together, blood bursting from his stomach, and a crimson, enfeebled hand which had long been coloured white was now awash in his own ichor. From how he struggled, it seemed like he possessed just enough strength to maintain what was left of his consciousness -- and even that would wither to nothing soon.

Her accomplices on the other hand, a bit more acute to their surroundings than Katerina made haste to the treelines around them. One -- the blonde, Serenity, she knew -- barked orders, calling for cover and formation. And before the good Captain could reach out to call forth her proclamations, soon was the tide of battle crashing down before her.

Well, first things first, Katerina would need to perform the chief of her duties -- there far too much foliage here for any serious offense, and without knowing the position of any more hostages nor assailants, Katerina dismissed any notion of serious offense. A stray lightning bolt could very well set a tree on fire even if it strayed ever slightly from its target -- a fire spell, the entire canopy ablaze in seconds. Softly whispering a few words, she knelt down before the injured old man, looking up for a moment, and sensing her assailants in danger, turned her head back down -- first unto him, then unto her belt pouch.

She summoned a card from her deck, Katerina snapping it out from the purple mist from which it came. It hovers gently over her extended palm, swirling in its magic mist.

The Queen of Graves glided majestically above her hand. Her cold stare piously lords over her band of knights, for the domain of life and death is her sovereign. Katerina nods. A small smile she exchanges with the Queen.

"Aye, we're in luck."

Katerina, floating the card above, murmured, falling into a deep, whispered enchantment. Energy rushed around her, a dismal wind blowing in her presence as it nearly blasted those around her like a gale tore down a sapling. She posed her fingertips front and skyward, and with a fierce posturing, cast upwards. An aetheric essence flowed upwards, like water gushing from a rupturing old dam, as blasts of flowing magic conjoined with rock-solid vapours swirled around her, they soon flowed off to her allies, coating them in its protective magical veil. Feelings of strength soon surge as the ward envelops around her comrades, wary sinew springing to life and gashes staunched over to life-affirming flesh.
Did a Relationship Chart for Katerina:


Fanilly: Fanilly isn't even the youngest person that Katerina has had to take orders from -- Lauren has her beat by a few years, though she isn't interesting in making it into a contest anytime soon. Most of the ritualism of selecting the Captains of these Knightly Orders flies right over Katerina's head: She never really understood much of it. Fanilly seems fine, if young and -- perhaps understandably -- quite nervous. The latter might not be the greatest trait to have in a Knightly Captain, but Katerina mostly thinks that she just needs some time to come out of her shell.

Tyaethe: Now, Katerina's not a laywer by any stretch of the imagination, but when she joined the Iron Rose Knights, she didn't know there was a statute of limitations on vampirism in Thaln. More you know. She supposed that when you're in a knightly order for so long that she gets seniority over those types of affairs...though on that note, Katerina's not sure what it really is that Tyaethe really does around here either, except for maybe boss people around.

Cecillia: A wandering mercenary. With a special enchanted bow. That can talk to wind spirits. Forgive her skepticism, but something about all of this just doesn't add up to her. Maybe Katerina's overthinking this, maybe she isn't. But after a war and a job collecting things like wyvern's blood and orc mushrooms, the sorceress-knight has learned to always suspect things and expect the unexpected. Considering the fact that she can shoot a gold coin out of a trader's hand over the walls of Aimlenn in the heath over, Katerina's got the suspicion that she was an assassin or something not too long ago. But that sort of stuff's just nonsense -- the Iron Rose Knights wouldn't let them in if that was true, right?

...right?

...eh, who's she kiddin'...

Renar: Katerina sympathizes with Renar's upbringing and circumstances (as much as her mirthless commentary can portray, at any rate) in regards to being born of two vastly different worlds, and ultimately, belonging to neither of them. There's a certain respect she has for him having to make his own path in life, and it's a path that she's all too familiar with. She hasn't really talked too in-depth on the topic with the bastard -- she isn't his mom and he can very well take care of himself, no amount of life commentary is going to do much of anything about the situation, except maybe for commiserate together.

Fionn: Finally. At least one person who can understand her. At least, she thinks. Katerina generally likes Fionn's presence, if mostly because he exudes a certain confidence in how unabashedly he goes about his business that she finds a bit charming. It does periodically give her headaches, though, but at this point it's so common that it may as well be Stockholm Syndrome -- which Katerina does genuinely wonder is the case sometimes.

Shanil: And Katerina thought that she was a real sourpuss...every night, before she goes to bed and out of sight from anyone, Katerina prays to Mayon and thanks the Lady above that Shanil is here so Katerina doesn't look like the most dour of the bunch. She's still somewhat careful to not make her opinion too well-known around her -- she'll probably get dissolved into shade by sunrise. Now, she heard a great quote somewhere she can't remember for the life of her, but Katerina feels it summarizes her feelings on Shanil perfectly: "I don't blame you for being you -- but you can't blame me for hating it".

Gerard: Gerard doesn't seem to talk much to Katerina -- whenever she makes a comment or tries telling a story, all he seems to do is politely nod and listen. She gets the impression that he doesn't like her very much, but as for why she's constantly drawn a hard conclusion to it. Maybe he's got something against elves, or magic-users, but Katerina can't put a finger right down on any of it.

Lucas: Oh Lucas, you strapping young lad. The romantic tale of the farmboy off to make a name for himself, a blank canvas, with only his wits, his will, and a dream. What Katerina needs to tell him about that is that you have to be asleep to think that believe a dream is real. She can't really fault the guy for having a dream and sticking with it to this point -- I mean, she was doing the same thing more or less at about his age. But he needs some more time to figure out how the world really works. And Katerina figures that either he'll get broken in after a few years and make a good fighter, or she's gonna need to go explain to his folks in a few months how their son is dead in a ditch somewhere in the Back-o-Beyonds of Thaln.

Fleuri: Probably the most dedicated of the whole lot of them. In spite of everything she knows about Fleuri, Katerina will admit that the man's still something of a mystery to her. He seems like someone that she should know more about, that she should think so much more -- or so much less -- of. But there's just a nothingness there about her final opinion on him that just ends up irking her in the most bizarre kind of way.

Serenity: Katerina is entirely convinced that there can only be one of two possible outcomes for this beef with Fanilly: The two are either going to end up as absolute best friends, right as rain, two peas in a pod. Or Serenity is going to be the main catalyst for some stupid-ass power struggle that boils over into a civil war in a couple of months. Given how seriously Serenity takes most things, if she gets signs it's the latter, Katerina's already decided that she's changing her name and getting as far away from this place as she humanly can. The sorceress doesn't have any problems with Serenity, but she's sure to keep out of the drama. Katerina was a teenage girl not too long ago -- and she knows that angry teenage girls are more cold-blooded than an orc shaman hopped up on blood-spice.

Morianne: Speaking of cold-blooded, what we have here is a Grade S, Board-Certified, Stone-Cold Bitch. And she doesn't even have the same excuse for being a teenager like some of the other members do. But she plays like an angel! So with all that in mind...Morianne is kind of just an average musician -- and Katerina's met quite the number. She'd probably be a bit nicer to Katerina if she stopped "seasoning" her food with cigarette ashes, but she started it, anyway.

Hope: Convinced that his name isn't actually "Hope". And if it is...let's just say that Katerina would think that would explain a few things. He's a nice enough fellow for her, and is pretty handy with summoning, too. Though, Katerina has her boundaries and needs her space from time to time -- he's come awfully close to interloping upon those boundaries, and he might find out the hard way that Katerina has her set of rules that most people seem to get. Hope won't win over any favors with her with this mother hen-ing.
She took a long drag from her cigarette, finishing it up as the Captain made her order to continue on foot. Jeremiah -- the name rolled around in Katerina's head. It felt familiar, like she should know it from somewhere, but as her muse dragged on with puffs of her smoke, everything to connect those dots of acquaintance called up short, and Katerina sighed it all out in a big puff of herbaceous tobacco fumes. The butt end of her little muse-maker had finally burnt itself out, the little orange nub burning itself to a charcoal ash-clump along her lips. As the mage flicked the burnt, exhausted tobacco paper out of her mouth, she reached into a pouch just to the back of her belt, and retrieved her cigarette case -- a small, unfurnished metal case, barely larger than a deck of playing cards, only decorated with an engraved vine-like patter that had long faded. She popped it open with a light click. Three cigarettes left to get her through the evening, plus however long it would take to get back.

"Tch." Katerina flipped the case closed, sliding it back to its nestled nook in the belt pouch.

"Awl'right cap'n, who dae you ken tae go about for the flanking party in the auld akelarre?" No matter how hard she tried to the contrary, Katerina could never shake that Northern accent. Not that she usually tried very hard.

"You ken, if we're awl up in honour real proper-like about the occasion, I can think of'a few ways tae make this a wee bit more chivalrous. I think right about half of us could just about stae behind, make this a fair fight. Aye, infact -- I proper ken the lot of the scunners will take yin proper look at Hope and Tyae and run the fuck awae. Or, maybe -- should'ae go a wee bit up the road and blow some smoke signals up intae the air reading, 'Aye lads there's a four-and-ten strong posse up the way ready tae kill the whole lot of yae'?" As she made her jesting remarks, Katerina held a wide-eyed gaze with her eyebrows raised and her cheeks posed -- this was the closest most people had ever seen to her "smiling".
Name: Katerina Valentina

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Race: Half-Elf

Appearance:




Standing at 5'11.5" with an athletic build to her, Katerina looks the part of a well-kept knight when in casual attire. Sporting dark viridian hair that reaches down to her mid back, she usually keeps at least part of it braided or tied, out of the way of her emerald eyes. She seems rather attentive even in her neutral pose, as if making mental notes of specific details or another.

Personality:

Katerina held a lifelong suspicion that most people had thought of her as either banal or revolting, through most who had met her as an affable and sharp woman, if possessive of a grim sense of humor. While usually agreeable in small talk and casual conversation, Katerina can get very protective about things she has grown fond of, whether that be her steward approach when dealing with those she considers close to her or her rather territorial approach when she sees her interests being interfered upon. At first, Katerina often views other with some caution, though if there's any consolation in the matter, when she does eventually open up they will likewise find that she values tranquility and periods of independence. She can also be fiercely stubborn, difficult to change her mind or talk her out of something once she's made her mind up.

If one should wish to test out the limits of her defensive posturing, call her a "witch".

Brief Backstory:

Katerina was born on the borderlands of Velt to a human wizard and an elven traveling bard. Her early life was mired with ceaseless household troubles, the result of both her parents free-spirited personae and the chaotic lives with which they both lived brought no shortage of conflicts between the two. The last memory that she had of her father was when she was six years old -- her parents were engaged in one of their usual mutually-drunken arguments, one last remark had seen the two through, and father packed up his belongings and sang to his daughter "Farewell My Darling" while her mother threw shoes at him. In the words of one of her tutors, her mother was, "A good woman who could not be a good mother" -- as Katerina grew up, she commented that this translated as, "A deadbeat mom with extra steps".

Though she had a great natural inclination to magic from a young age, Katerina lived most of her early life in the accompaniment of her mother's bardic troupe -- in practice, this meant flinging her between the houses of friends and acquaintances. Katerina leveraged whatever tutelage she could find for magic, often of dubious safety and highly varying in quality. She had many mentors throughout her early pedagogy, and although she had constantly petitioned her mother to be sent off to a proper magical school, Katerina's mother insisted that she had neither the resources nor the peerage to enroll her. As such, Katerina had to get crafty with her magical studies, and often learned from secondhand sources, such as other magical students around her age, old manuscripts, and the like.

At the onset of the War of the Red Flag, Katerina found herself pressed into service within the ranks of a clerical corps, whom were to travel alongside bands of soldiers to provide care and medical service, after she had been in the study of a pastor for a few weeks. She was less than pleased about the fact at first, but as disaster after disaster ran through the course of the war's chaotic onset, Katerina proved to have an uncanny knack for persevering through sticky situations, as she provided an invaluable bulwark in poorly-organized retreats. When asked about where she received her knowledge of magic, Katerina often jokingly answered, "The College of the Verdant Weald" -- that is to say, witchcraft. Much to her chagrin, she received the moniker, "The Witch Knight" on account that she had never given any consistent answer as to where she received her magical training.

After the war, Katerina would find some difficulties finding permanent employment, even as her mother -- believing that her newfound title had meant she had made quite the amount of fame and fortune -- constantly made attempts to hit her up for currency. She found inglorious work as the bodyguard to a renowned alchemist supplier, and although the postwar realities were rather unkind to his supply chains, Katerina had managed to surprise him time and time again when tasked to protect shipments or retrieve alchemy ingredients. Though he could not offer her much in the way of direct advancement, he saw the displeasure in Katerina at her current life situation, and at his recommendation he had vouched to her that she should join a knightly order. At first, she believed that he had simply grown tired of him and was looking to be rid of her, but soon after came around to the idea and had been ensquired unto the Iron Rose Knights.

Equipment:

Katerina's armor is a simple breastplate adorned atop some mage's robes, now bearing the insignia of the Iron Rose. Accompanying her are a few magical talismans, most evidently include an incense censer and a deck of cards with align themselves with magical insignia. To battle she carries a steel flanged mace, adorned with a spike atop the hammerhead. She also carries a thin, puncturing dagger with a single bladed edge.

Skills:

Kateria's magical education came from whichever sources she was able to find, and has at least a dabbling proficiency with all but the most obscure or profane of magical schools. With such a patchwork field of magical expertise, Katerina has eventually refined her magical skills into proficiency with life magic. In particular, she is quite knowledgeable with healing magic -- of which she has had ample expertise in dealing with since the years of her line of work. She also has some knowledge regarding the application of and dispelling of hexes and curses as a result, though most of the more direct applications of putting curses onto things or people are beyond her area of expertise: Katerina is more used to ridding people of hexes than giving them out. In addition, she's quite the hand with pyromancy and electromancy -- which she's had plenty of time to refine both during and immediately after the war. Although she's quite athletic and in good shape, Katerina has not had much direct weapons training beyond the basics of combat instruction, and instead prefers to utilize a stripped-down array of simple, effective techniques than apply any advanced combat maneuvers.

Outside of battle, Katerina is quite fond of most card games, and dabbles in literature and horticulture. She's also a fantastic cook: Her lamb casserole is to die for.
@VitaVitaAR Shit, I must've missed it. Thanks for that!
Is there a character sheet template around? Or is it mostly all the stuff that we think should be used to fit enough stuff in?
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet