Samdragonx

D&D 5e - Lost Mine of Phandelver

The first few moments after meeting new friends were the hardest for Bar. He tried to help out the new people, testing their armor as the dwarf had instructed him to. But instead he got shunned, a stab to the neck from a rapier and distant and cold looks he felt burning in his back. No matter how many clothes he would put on, he couldn't hide away from their stares. Taking these things very personally and silently sobbing in his big right hand, he proceeded to take offense to his minions thinking of him in such a bad way. Though he wasn't going to show this to anyone. Rather would he use it later. He would rage on the power of the emotions of lonelyness and rejection, as he always has. But time started weighing heavy on his simple-mindedness, as Bar had little patience. The feelings were further embelished by his food portions becomming significantly smaller when he was near the cleric and looked at the trees or bunnies in the forest. It did not help a lot to see her have more food then him either.

After days worth of travel without anyone speaking to him, he would end what he felt was become his miserable life. Taking a slightly firmer grip on his axe, he decided tonight would be the last. Being so deeply lost in depressive thought happened to Bar when he was emotionally hurt and had found no other outlet. He was on the brink of deciding where the best place would be, in front or away from these people who cared nothing about Bar... When suddenly Bar heard him being called by Seethe. Unlikely that this would lead to much good, Bar responded with a growl and a lifted axe at first. But after breathing heavily and listening twice to what she said, he lowered his stance. While on the wagon Seethe had commanded everyone things. This included getting escorting from Bar.
Very clearly stating the meaning of the word in small bite-size pieces of explanation.
To Bar this was a relief, seeing how his previous assumptions about the word had other (unacceptable) implications. Bar sniffed just once.

"You surprised me..."

He looked away from his escortee, hiding a big old smile.

"I call first skull on anything we find or kill."

Looking back over his broad shoulder Bar noticed a subtle nod. A feeling of acceptance overtook him. With a smile on his face Bar happily pronounced:

"Just remember, I swing high. So just duck if you hear me get mad."

The low voice made it sound a lot more intimidating then Bar really ment it to be.

"Hmmm.. maybe Bar was wrong.."

Bar mumbled this thinking alloud. Returning back to the desert that was his mind, he thought:

"Maybe i just have to kill some minions in stead of me... but not the robe-y one... He may have sad bad things.. but at least he was talking his language".

He proceeded to battle the other bad emotions he had. They would all have to wait. Card number 5 gave him an order first.(genasi)
The next few hours, he may have been spoken too by others. Bar kept his distance and tried to seem uninterested when he got a pat on the back.

Being focussed solely on his thoughts and his axe, Kiki started talking to him from at least 5feet away. Bar got very uncomfortable and would love an excuse to get out of the situation and as far away from her as possible.

Bar noticed the complete and untouched skull-possessing corpses on the floor. With a loud exclamation he shouted, he cut off the conversation. He raised his Axe-o-Meter while the sound filled the area:

"YEAH!!"

After jumping out of the cart with a loud 'thump', Bar took in a big gust of air.
Bar was one of the first to get his momentum going. He sped up to the first horse that he could find, at loincloth challenging speed. Raised was his Axe-O-Meter and with the first strike he aimed for the neck of the horse.

"SKULLS FOR THE BARON OF DRUMS!"

The severed horsehead was intact. It also had the skin and manes still on there and hadn't been moved by the attack at all.
It wasn't a difficult task for the speed he was going at, tough. The joy he had in finally finding a horse(or any creature really) he WAS allowed to hack at caused him to get completely carried away in the moment. He had some other emotionally unresolved issues, after all. Skipping trying to seperate each part carefully, he hacked as much as he could. It took about 15 nasty hacks, but he discovered to have left himself with only a legbone, a bloodcovereb body and a partially cleared path. He put the two parts away from the mushy goo. Mostly because the rest looked like a massive pile of gore that a half-orc took a great axe too.

"HEY SEE, COME SEETHE THIS!"

He called his newfound commander.
By the time he got closer:

"Do you want legbone or does Bar keep it? Meat is here!"

Was all the big half-orc loudly had to say, with a big grin on his face. A little growling stomach made Bar consider cleaning the road with his mouth. But he wanted his commander to have a first chance. If he didn't eat, neither would he.

mechanics

Movement: From E7 to h10, H10 to h17.Looking for horse-skulls at I17.
Location: H17
Survival roll:
a) 1d20+2 = (14)+2 = 16

b) 1d20+2 = (10)+2 = 12

c) 1d20+0 = (10)+0 = 10

Action:
a) Use axe to collect horseskull.
"Bar successfully cleave through the horses necks with your great axe severing their heads from their bodies with a thud as your axe slams into the ground."
b) Claiming random horse-parts.
"well Bar successfully hacks the horse apart however in the process Bar destroys most of the edible meat with Bar's great axe and only manage to successfully gather 1 Leg Bone.
c) The horse looked bad, the smashed horse looked good. But the genasi didn't eat it. So neither did you.

Supernatural creatures and humans trying to live in harmony (Dead)

@Letmehaveone2

I don't think Ethan should carry slackey arround for too long.. Maybe finding a bench would be a good plan. :)

The Shattered World

@Crusader Lord This person is the only scolar that got 99.99% of the facts right on the first draft. xD

The Shattered World

[hider=Ravadon of Xyllodan]

Ravadon of Xyllodan

Character Image Here

Character Summary

Name: Ravadon of Xyllodan (Full Name)
Aliases: Rav, Don, Ravaladon of Meramune, Ravaladon of Aven.
Titles: Champion of the guardians.
Age: 22
Time of Death: 8000 years ago. Confirmed 234 years ago.

Place of Origin: Though most major kingdoms were on the map of Arlina, Ravaladon only existed in one place for only 15 years.
With great certainty it was set in Southern Vraweth. The other traveling cities named Ravaladon were then lost.
Gender: Male (though some cannot tell by looking at him)

Physical Attributes

Eyes: blue, one is sleepy due to a defect at birth.
Hair: Blond.
Day To Day Attire: A green cape(dark on the inside), Half armored in a shoulder pauldron with breast-piece both metallic in color, reinforced fur boots(fur shin-guards, metallic boots), a transparent belt with metal-wooden buckle, a short and finely woven red scarf around his neck, red ice-steel armguards and gloves, a sky-blue tunic that was torn on the upper part of his left sleeve, a small red kilt revealing the muscled shape of his thighs made up his clothes when he was carrying his purple Dragon helmet.
Strengths:
Caring.
Well versed. (“formal language”)
Physically strong (for the average person).

Weaknesses:
Overconfident in his own abilities.
Obscured vision in his left eye.
Bad temper when sleepy.
Horrible handwriting.
Holds bad grudges.
Self-justification.
Extreme vanity.
Proud snob.
Greedy.
lusty.

Psychological Attributes

stubborn * Ambitious * Eager beaver* Devoted

Sexuality: Heterosexual, without virtue.
Relationship Status: Single.
Personality:

Ravadon. This young mercenary has gem encrusted ego of gargantuan proportion. As he often asks you what you think about him and all the things he does for you, he will happily be gloating in the praise he gets. After you have finished, he has only just begun. He will inform you of how you did not focus enough on his personal beauty. He will sing in ballads about himself and then proceed to glorify himself, blowing his stories (some of which you have witnessed for yourself) way out of proportion.

His big ego fuels his words to be even more sophisticated than normally necessary. Though he will mock you if you do not understand every last word his mental lexicon has. After telling about how he does know and it is really simple, he will tell you how great a deed it was that he thought you ‘impervious knowledge’.

If you make him an offer, he will demand the double of it. If you offer something from the kindness of yourself to others, he will take the glory for teaching you kind ‘selflessness’ and demand a triple portion. His confidence is so great, in fact, it gets him into troublesome situations more than you’ll hear him sing about them.(Which is a miracle) And then, to protect his honor, even if the accusations are (found to be) true, he would challenge the
accuser to a classic duel. And even then, even if proven guilty, he would twist the story and lead it to a duel of words instead of swords. In case it does come to a fight, we washes his hands to clean his conscience and ‘prove’ his innocence.

Skills & Abilities

A listing of skills, such as horseback riding or cooking and abilities or magic. You can have a total of ten, but temper them to not be overly powerful - except one can be noticeably more powerful, usually the one skill/ability/magic/item that makes them recognizable.

• Skill (Level): Excelsis Deo.
• Skill (Level): An appealing peeling of a peel.
• Skill (Level): Description
• Skill (Level): Description
• Spell: Description

History

Backstory: Just make sure to include all relavent details - it can be as short as three paragraphs or more, so long as everything is there.

Long!

The ballad of the first leaf.
Ravadon was born, as youngest of 3, into a wealthy family, “Sroon Aven, Safeffe Aven, Ravadon Aven.” The city of AvenHault was even named after their family. However, when his birth was taking place, the town was under a heat wave. His mother barely had the power to allow for his birth.
Being stuck halfway, the doctors decided to cut him out of his mother. The dagger that pierced her, hit the baby in his eye-lid. And surprisingly enough, the baby dropped out the natural way. The father had caught Ravadon. And of course, he was a man and did what men do in this culture when they see a small smirk of blood. They whipe it off, firmly. Which is how he got his name. It then also means “The emperor comes, the blooded beggar leaves.” Ravadon, already marked for life from before being born, would be holding grudges against his family.
Though they were important as landlords of the city, providing both the wealthy and the poor with homes, they were not the uttermost wealthy living in town. This was not given knowledge to the general public.

The ballad of branches.
Mallock Aven, his father, provided him with all his siblings no longer required. Be it a set of cooking pots, princess gowns or an expired horse. Needless to say, he had access to all he desired. Parental love, great compassion for things handed down to him and, of course, the cleaning and scrubbing tools he needed to take care of his personal beauty. This made him look more than decent enough to marry any woman he’d so desire. Even the kings daughter, Melanoi was not out of his reach. But he missed something, something that couldn’t be rewarded by it being given to him.
He had a desire for his own glory, possessions and earnings denied to him. His urge became nearly an obsession as it was denied to him so fiercely. “Oh, my boy, why would you go and risk your life working or fighting, when you can freely get your siblings bard to write tales about you?” ‘My boy’. Oh, how he disliked those words beyond compare. It was his mother’s way of telling him he wouldn’t be able to do it, though she told him in that same conversation that he could do anything he wanted. His mother taught him many things, though she knew not that she taught him to twist words and drive through his will, even unto others. At the age of 12, this young boy had been a happy, hunger-free scrap-user.

The ballad of fall.
13. The year everything changed. Ravadon rebelled against his parents and their protective behavior. Ravadon would go and get himself in all sorts of trouble. The time he set ablaze a corrupt guards house was the cherry on the cake for him and the droplet that breaks the bucket for his parents. Not only would they beat him, disown him and get him thrown in jail, they planned on doing it did it publicly. A wealthy patron of the circus heard(by spying of course, the siblings bards were well undercover) about this young ambitious risk-taker. Not hesitating, he told the family he could take the boy on an adventure with the circus. It would take them past mages and monsters, though not actually being in harms way. In return, he would drop (on their very table as they stood there looking at it) more gold(in special wealth-people coins) than their family had ever earned combined and multiplied. The little rebel caught notion of what was discussed in the room next door. He had, in fact, spend time learning things from bards rather than instructing them. As soon as the table was filled, Ravadon learned the way greed was a motive his parents upheld. He decided to not deny himself such pleasure..

The ballad of promise.

Having taken part of the money his parents were given, the young boy, a teenager now, was sent off on a journey that would change his life. In more ways sorrow than the little hero would know. Being saved public embarrassment, he proceeded to be more lenient towards his new caretakers. They let him do all the things he wanted all by himself. He wanted to start a fire, he could gather the rocks, the wood and figure out a way to make it spark. He wanted to sleep late in a tavern, the circus left him behind. Life was well for the young man as he sought out a person to be his master at arms. After all, if he was going to make a name for himself, he would do it by having monsters slain by his own hand. It didn’t take long for him to realize there was only one person that could tell him, who of all the capable people could be his trainer, the old blind sage that owned the fate-telling section of the circus. He entered the room. Cards would represent his future.

Ballad of Cards
The first card was that of the warrior. The second was a map, travel along a road. The third was the card of ballads, song and praise. The fourth was a card of powerful magical conflict. The fifth displayed a serpent, more specifically, a wyvern. The sixth was a ‘lady death’ card. The last was a family tree, the symbol for birth and life. The old man told him.. ‘Sonny, you are destined for something great. Never let anyone tell you you’re not worth what you work for. These cards will fade.. as does time… This is the last time I will read cards. There’s no more to see.. Keep the cards. Let them remind you and keep you from fear. The promise remains.. and until fulfilled, you shall not die.” The winter would follow would caused bandits and marauders to attack caravans and travelers. The boy was going home. He had been traveling for a year now. The circus came back to the town they left during its 14th year of existence.

The ballad of Ice.

A warrior card, surely it would be him! He said to himself as he rolled into town with the circus. He could completely picture it.
The trumpet sounds as he arrived, becoming a master swordsman.
Battle-noises and the ecstatic screams of the women and children all loving him and his glory.
The towns bells being rang. Fire, Fire! Fight, Fight!
All chanting as he stepped forward to defeat his enemies.
Bar the doors! Hide the women and children!
They totally wanted to capture him and a glimpse to bask in his glory. Protecting their women and children from his good looks, afraid to lose them.
The Hunara bandits are attacking!
The hunara.. wait what?

It was not long before the town was overrun. Big and mighty basilisks broke through the walls of the city. The guards were either dead or about to be. The horses were captured, the bears released. One of the bandits picked up the boy from the wagon.
Ha! I found one for the stake! Ravadon couldn’t resist the grip from the bandits firm armored grasp. He was carried and thrown unto before the leader of the Hunara, Cho Samoth.
“Tell me, why should you be left alive?”
Ravadon spilled on how he would be a warrior. Cho laughed at the little boy. Threw a 2-handed great-sword at his feet and told him to pick it up. The boy tried as best he could. Lifting the handle unto one of his shoulders, Cho tested him. “Tell me, why do I want a warrior when I have so many?“ Barely able to hold himself up, Ravadon answered him. “Because I’m the face you need to keep your gold and your people. I can read, I can write. I can provide you into the house of might!” He thought of his greedy parents and how he’d always forget the key in a pot nearby the entrance.
“Go on!” Cho commanded. Sending 2 guards with the boy.
And surely, he came back with every last penny paid for his release unto the circus. His family now brought before Cho. Cho asked the boy a final question: “What is more.. a son or a coin?” The family assumed they were home free and started hugging already. The real shock came when Ravadon’s answer came: “A coin.”
The Hunara bandits razed the village. With the gold payed for him, the entire kingdom would follow soon.
Cho ordered one of his recruiters to take care of the boy.
To pay him a single coin and murder everyone before him because they deemed him not capable of killing anyone with his weak arms.
The warrior card in his hand faded. The old man that had given him the cards had a request. To bleed over the coin as he died. The old man, by chanting a few spells enchanted the coin to supply an endless amount of blood at dripping speeds. The boy was now traumatized even worse. Every person he ever knew kneeled before him and died.
The years that followed he would travel many miles. And until he was powerful enough to replace and bring justified death unto Cho, he would be one of them.. A bandit with Stockholm Syndrome.
He was kept in a cage the first 3 months. He went from fighting chickens to fighting boars and even cows. This boy was brought up to be strong. He earned 1 coin every fight he won. After that time, the latest of captains in the Hunara ranks got assigned to train the boy. He taught him backstabbing, sword fighting and which types of species he could expect to encounter in the journey. It did not help him a lot that before then he was helpless when he was also sexually abused by this very person for 3 months long.

Ballad of Mead.

But the training persevered…
In the cities they heisted, bombarded and plundered, Ravadon was the one sneaking around telling the hidden children to remain hidden. Bringing out weak and feeble old men that wanted to die fighting if he absolutely had to. He proceeded to be a man with very little patience. And with a child offering him a coin he was reminded why he was that way. You cannot get praise without people to praise you… it started gaining on him. His morals were now so backwards from what they were. He clenched the coin and put it in his blooded coin bag. It was time…
In the highway tavern he gathered the coins he had and threw a party. Cho was amused by his new protégé. “First he works for coins, now he’d spend them on the person who paid him.” The party was a success.. or rather.. reason to excess. Drunk. And that’s exactly what he needed. To get them all nice and slow. While sniffing through Cho’s stuff he remembered what they always said about him. “A wench without a future.”… Would he really crave the praise from thugs? No.. that just isn’t right. Besides.. everyone laughed at him anyways..
The childs coin was burning on his moral conscience.
Had he really forgotten who he was… No… the blood in his bag was proof of who he was. He might have had a promise, but it was his moment to make it happen.
He found Cho’s private journal. In full amazement, he found out everything about the Hunara. Their safewords, their treasury.. their purchase history… everything. Though his normal memory was superb. Everything in song he would know forever. He would remember, no matter how bad the rhythm…

And humming to himself as he went towards the tavern, he considered his options… being a lousy bandit for the rest of his life or try to get word out somehow and end this madness. He’d need a real distraction.. people wanting him to go do something else…
He might know a messenger, but it would take too long to reach him on foot without someone noticing. If he could even remember what to say…

As he approached the tavern, he knew heard singing in different tones and it made him almost forget his song.
He needed to write it down or have them sing it. He wouldn’t get away from these people, neither have a shot at
that journal again for.. too long. The journal’s locations would have all been changed by then.
But how? Who was going to listen to him?
Even if he had their attention, He couldn’t learn these men to read. They were too uncultured.. they wouldn’t know ‘fine wine’ from ‘toxic poison’ until they drank it. He couldn’t hope to teach them the song by letting them read it … By singing, though..

It struck him. Irony! A joke!

He knew he could let them sing along if they were drunk.
He knew he could dance and keep anyone serious from shutting him down.
He knew how to get to Cho, he knew the locations of all the Hunara hideouts..

He just needed something to make a noise.. or a.. dynamic entry!
Taking his options into consideration, he would have to do it tonight. The full moon was upon him.
He crawled up the tavern side, took out one of the swords he’d received over the many years and cut a hole into the roof. He left the lid on, but he would have to remember it’s spot in pitch darkness..

He came in ignoring everyone and everything. As did most of the people there. The central fire which lit the room, he swiftly threw a cloak over. The room was suddenly in an angry uproar. A swooping dagger sounded. Moonlight came unto a table. A table with one person standing on it. The room turned to see Ravadon shout “Cho is fat, cho is wet!” As he scooped a drinking horn from the table and bit of its end to use it. The room was needle drop dead silent. A few blades left their sheath. As he started to produce a tune on the horn and throbbing his foot against the floor, the people started slapping and clapping along on the table. “Cho is fat, cho is wet” The other musicians started playing along, the people who now were certain of what the young boy said, started laughing and dancing. As he took a small torch and threw it back on the central fireplace, he could leave the spotlight. The song Was loud through the tavern. He blew his horn mighty and started to sing the second part. “Rav is way better, he is from Meramune!” Some people now got slightly offended and started coming after him. He started running and dancing his way through the room. It may have been the chaos, the spotlight entry, the very many liters of ale, just plane luck.. but all of his moves were copied. The dancing prevented him from getting caught. He jumped from table to table, avoiding the angry crowd. Ant there was laughter when they tripped, there was joy when he kicked mugs at them. The place became alive and every note he’d add to the song the people would savor for hours on end. Eventually Cho himself stood up. The atmosphere completely made a 180.”Enough. I’ve heard enough. “ He stook out his arm. The smile on Ravadons face turned to a surprised and serious one. Depending on what followed he might get slaughtered by all of the tenor and the bass “You! You are our new bard! Someone get him some paper! And take it from the top. This will be our anthem song for the ages!“ He rose his hand and landed back on his seat. “A toast to the hero of the East!” The entire room toasted along. “To Ravadon of Meramune!” Laughter broke out and the singing started all over again. Paper, song.. He could send himself a letter!
Giving the unreadable letter to his contact, he would sneak into the next city “exploring.” But in reality warning the authorities and getting back at cho for what he took from him.

The ballad of Roses.
The morning came. The courier had done his part. As planned he went in and scouted the city streets, arriving openly for the king. As the king was highly confused by the letter that he received only earlier that day. When He sang a song about himself, Ravadon of Meramune, he remembered every last word of the journal. The king was shocked to hear he was willing to trade his entire band of bandits in for a single coin. The king brought a choir. As Ravadon directed the choir, he presented the information to the general and the scribes. Hence forth he became known as Ravadon of Meramune. And (ironically enough) the capital city of Meramune rewarded him with a home, access to inform the army while they were at war with the Hunara and even a family. He was renowned throughout the city. He was given a place on the battlefield.
Little did he know, his journey card had become faded.
As he was in the mages tower where they thought him to enchant and evoke, he undertook travel to various caves and often. He was always the first to get the treasury of the Hunara. He’d ensure to take the very best piece of equipment before telling the king of what he found. Logically, the king would tax him over what he found. Leaving him with a green cape(dark on the inside with cowl, without face mask), Half armored in a shoulder pauldron with breast-piece both metallic in color, various swords. But most important of which
Excelsis Deo.
A weapon that could be infused with enchantments without ever running out or forgetting which it has had before.
Gloves of Red icesteel, armguards of red icesteel were his reward for helping these old few wizards and enchanters.

Reinforced fur boots(fur shin-guards, metallic boots), he created himself.

Besides the ballads and the praise in every tavern, a transparent belt with metal-wooden buckle of brute force was his reward from the king.

A short and finely woven white scarf around his neck, hid away the amulet of a blooded coin.

A sky-blue tunic that was torn on the upper part of his left sleeve, a small red kilt revealing the muscled shape of his thighs made up the rest of his own purchased clothes.

Yes, they did know how to spell fashion, sadly..
He protected the kingdom for 5 years.
In that time he’d not only won the hearts of the people, but also of the king.

And the king would gift him his daughter and a kingdom with it. Ravadon would have accepted.. but living with his wife becoming a concubine, there would be very little problems. The only true problem that would arise was that the king had 2 daughters.
Soon Ravadon would know to either demand both or to reject an offer.
Both of these women looked gorgeous. Both were proficient in the use of magic. But one had the character of a serpent, the other of a little girl. As their ages did differ a subtle 9 years. His natural inclination was to choose the older, the serpent. But after seeing how she would use transmutation and evocation to try and actually kill her sister, no money involved or anything, he couldn’t help but feel disgusted.

Ravadon would now build himself up to choose one of the 2 ladies to be his lawful wife. He entered the chamber where he’d make the decision only to find the two ladies throwing around spells at each other. As fire and goo flew through the room, he dived in to protect the young from the serpent. The older sister was even more outraged that he wouldn’t choose her over “that little tree huger”. She rampaged. She transmutated herself to be a dragon. More specifically, a wyvern. The wyvern breathed fire through the chambers and through the halls of the city. It was rampaging, destroying buildings, families and ruining life everywhere.

By an ancient divination spell, the young daughter (who had magical resistance and was still bleeding)
stabilized the one she loved. Ravadon was now unconscious. As she looked at the hopelessness of the situation, she could do no other… She, Xyllodan, would take Excelsis Deo and fell the beast. As she grew wings of eagles, she flew up high, mightily high. She’d smitten the foul beast with a ray of lightning. The creature was now de-winged. It tried to get away as best she could, but she was no match for the weapons strikes. As her sister laid bleeding out, she would turn her into a dead tree.. never to harm anyone again. Upon flying back to her lover she realized he’d been awakened by the clashing of the sword and the skull of the creature. The girl now granted him the sword. As He took it, an idea flashed into his mind. A helmet. He might have been a mighty slayer of creatures.. but a helmet would be so much safer! He proceeded to marry Xyllodan. For he would be renamed again for slaying the beast. The young sister didn’t have great curves, but people recognized the blade used to slay the beast. The 2 made for a lovely couple. He would act big and dance a lot, she would be doing the actual political work. To his surprise the card was still glaring. Maybe this was something for later..
He made a helmet from the wood of a magical tree in the middle of the capital city. He would know it to be mere wood, but it could do great for protecting him. As time moved forward, the problems started. First it was conflict over who should get credit for stopping the wyvern, next there was the discussion of who should own the sword, the fight over the wooden helmet not being safe enough.. with every victory and successful protection of the city another fight would be waged in their marriage.
Ultimately, he would be away for many days before he got back. In that time, he never noticed how his helmet had a strange red eye growing on its side. Because of him being away so often, his council ordered him to share his knowledge of his scripts, ballads with his wife. The woman would do the same in return. The rest of the time passed on. And again more and more fighting came over time. There was no helping it.
But this time, yes, this time she could read his encrypted writing. The very writing he used as a journal the night of the sisters fight. And in it, there was the, to her accursed, claim that he would not choose her as a first pick.
And this was that moment… the card burned. The magical conflict was over. She confronted him about his texts, he assumed this would pass. He tried to comfort her by saying she had won a great prize. In her return she’d slap him across the face. He would get angry and try to leave. She would scream out “open fire” as she transmuted, all that was left of the Hunara would jump from the shades. Realizing her betrayal, he lost his cool.. he lost all of his promising futures.. as he drew his sword the serpent card burned halfway through.
Yet another wyvern was slain at the hands of a wielder of Excelsis Deo.
He took the skin and got it wrapped around his helmet. A real dragon helmet. What more than appeal would a man need? The hero paraded the streets… but the people knew.. the people all knew.. Their kingdom now under rule of a man who had only eye for himself. They denied him the crown. They wouldn’t mind him joining a protectors or mercenary guild, but a lord he wouldn’t be while they lived.
His price? But a single coin.
He spend the rest of his days hunting all threats that weren’t a serpent, wyvern or a dragon. He knew what it would mean if he did.. the next card would not be in his favor… Having lost the will to live due to his ballads no longer being sung, he prepared himself to be old. The nation was re-using clockworks and he had no intention of giving up self-earned glory. He dropped out of society and started to travel by his last name… and that last name would come back to haunt him. He sought out dragons, wyverns, truly any beast of magical or powerful origin he hunted. Acquiring ropes, languages and more paper for him to write ballads on. It had been so very long. He sought out a spirit to grant him power beyond the promise of the card he held in his hand. He wanted it to make him a legend. A hero beyond compare.
She said she had the answer for both cards and she’d fulfill his every dream for glory and power. She imbued(enchantment) his helmet with the power he desired. It would take the spirit of a beast first, though. Any beast he’d take would do, but she had a special one for him.

He sought the empty cave she recommended. In the first he went, he found a small bush. As his helmet was brought closer to it, the vision in his left eye became displaced.. He could.. he could see clearly.. Through the eyes of his helmet… the power had already began taking effect.
The tree turned into a dragon with heads on either side of his body, once slain. The older sister spoke through, what now was his tomb. “Give me your heart. “
The younger sister spoke from the other side of the beast. “No, it is I it belongs to.”
The dragon card burned. He looked at the broken person inside the beast and said but one thing as he lifted his helmet to them. “I want both or I want none!” The magical enchantment now sucked in the beasts spirits. As they entered the helmet, his true sacrifice became apparent. The ultimate price for power. Not seeing yourself grow to a villain by dying a young hero… The cave collapsed. The death card exploded. The female spirit he had a deal with had now too betrayed him. As the spirit took on the 2 bodies of the young ladies. To his ego’s increase,.. he truly felt like he was.. the best of men….
Slowly the family tree card burned in the mountain as the tales of his ballads became more and more famous.

Myth:
“The myth… which one? I might believe it best to tell you the one he didn’t actually wrote or only sung about himself.
“He died for trying to marry a female dragon over a priestess. Cooked to a crisp as that saying goes. Burned down easily because ego’s are flammable. And if you, oh, knight of virtue, slay the dragons (Yes, plural) that burned him, he will bestow his ballads and wisdom unto you. Ridiculous, of course!
No one in all these years has ever been able to read his writings. Museums all across the world loved his poetry. Not because they could read it, but because it looked more like child drawings than text. Any books we do find and are able to read about him are all about his ego being too big, his endless absence, the days he traveled with his caravan of fans and devotees. In all honesty, some question how he could get this many. The records we have, show that the populations in and surrounding Southern Vraweth were at an all-time low in all of history. Let’s not speak of it again. This guy might be a myth, but he gives me more headaches than my husband. “

Relations

* ☠ Enemy * ⚜ Unfriendly * ☯ Neutral * ☮ Friends * ღ Ally * ♥ Crush/Significant Other *

• Name + symbol : Description
• Name + symbol : Description
• Name + symbol: Description
• Name + symbol: Description
• Name + symbol: Description
• Name + symbol: Description

Extras (Optional)

Character Quote: Something they say a lot or live by
“Did I do good? Of course, I did. I mean, I did it. Now, let’s talk about what you did inferior compared to me.”
Theme Song: What would be playing when they walk up if we were in a movie?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cu0f4xF-vO4
Anything Else:

Handy: Both left-handed for ranged attacks and righthanded for swordfighting.

Voice type:
Tenor => Tenore di Forza(Robusto)
[url=youtube.com/watch?v=La2JwQC2xU4] A clip of what his singing sounds like.

[/hider]

The Shattered World

Xivaoc Quetz

Xivaoc Quetz

Character Summary

Name: Xivaoc Altequan Quelquana Quetz
Aliases: Xiv, Aoc
Titles: Champion of the Guardians
Age: 25
Time of Death: Original death record, 8,000 years ago.
Place of Origin: The main temple, Now a shrineless monument with a firebowl on top.
Gender: Male

Physical Attributes

Eyes: Black
Hair: Long black and brown dreadlocks in a mane
Day To Day Attire: This and That.
Strengths:
Stealth expert: Transparent and silent(Master in jungle).
Hunter: Can hit the weakspots of natural beasts for more combat effectivness.
fearlessly confident: Cannot be stagnated psychologically.
Weaknesses:
Ancient warrior: Can't use 'modern day' swords or other fancy weapons.
Ancient knowledge: Cannot learn new magics or techniques.
Fearlessly proud: Cannot flee combat.

Psychological Attributes

Wild * Cold * Greedy * Lawbound

Sexuality: heterosexual
Relationship Status: single
Personality:

Xiv, part of his personality is best described by the way he looks at a problem. If there's a beast that threatens his people, he will hunt it.
More often than not hurting those that try to stop him, by showing mercy to the beast if it killed a criminal or by saying harsh words. Some of the people hardly called him a hero at all.
Not only due to how distant he was for the village, but also because of how hard his ways and words are.
"The deaths of these children would allow you to eat tomorrow." Is an example of one of his more ‘gentle’ moments. He’s not the most tactful message bearer.

Aoc, He is a guardian. Not being a guardian of just people, he regards strength and battle prowess as the most important of features in a person.
He will die to protect the strongest of weaklings, so that the weakest of weaklings might grow stronger.
He tries to adhere his ways to be in tune with the natural laws. He loves herbs, plants and water.
He does have a bit of distrust towards new people he meets.

The more romantic part of his nature is mostly found to be by dancing for and with people. He has a soft spot for dogs and horses).
Conversations with him can be long and enchanting as he makes up great stories of glory that passed away in the old days.
And ultimately, he seems to love romance, in his own unconventional moments.

Most people that know him would say that the better you know him,
the gentler you can handle his fragile, strange and sometimes exotic person.

Skills & Abilities

A listing of skills, such as horseback riding or cooking and abilities or magic. You can have a total of ten, but temper them to not be overly powerful - except one can be noticeably more powerful, usually the one skill/ability/magic/item that makes them recgonizable.

• Hunters cloak (Master transmutation):
  It's not the cloak that is special. Rather the teleportation and near invisibility while he is moving on the thrill of the hunt.
• Weapons of the hunt(Expert):
  A poison dartpipe of direhorn, an dragonblood axe-sword, body-sized wheather-leath shield, an ancient golem bolla, fully horse-mane bow and a bloodstone sacrificial dagger make up his arsenal. His wildlife survival traning make him capable and willing to fullfill whatever the hunt requires to protect the people he is with.
• Tracking (Journeyman):
  Xivs ability to find targets that are long gone.
• Horse-rider (apprentice):
  Proficient horse-rider. Can speak to animals related to horses and dogs.
• Poisoned blood (novice):
  Though his skin is not hardened in any way, being bitten or directly touching his blood leaves minor scorchmarks on what touched it.(Acid of snake poison in blood from his past, if that helps)
• Mask of power(Mutation Artifact):
  Transformation mask. Can turn him into a big moving tree.
• Mind of 1000 voices(necromancy):
  This spell gives Xiv the power to speak to the spirits of old for council. Requires said spirit to be near or to be in a place of (ancient) worship.
• Thrill of the hunt(divination):
  This spell increases Xiv's perception, movement speed and plays drumsounds in the surrounding area. (can make for great dance-parties)
• Skill (Level): open for discovery?
• Spell: not so open for discovery?

History

Backstory:
Just make sure to include all relavent details - it can be as short as three paragraphs or more, so long as everything is there.

The masterfull quil,
The story of this champion begins not at the dawn of time, but really at the first creation of his kind learning writing.
Little did and do the humans know that their power lies in their written texts and not in their memories.
Xiv was a man who would write down good words. His writing was consistant, it was true and people felt like they came alive when reading from it.
His own powers were next to none in the beginning. Many knew that only good words would never make a world real or lead to real good. For what is good without evil?
So his people created vile words. Horrific heresys using their master's quill.
In doing so, he wrote them of a new word: "Love".
In an attempt at justifying his people before the law he made earlier, the man wrote a word upon himself: "Law"
That word he held written on him for 5 years total. After that, it was decided that Xiv would be more than a man. The towns elderly came together and granted him their best tools. They planned on casting him down a cliff and remaining in control of the village. Under the guise of it being an offering to the gods. They said a serpent would come and take him to the edge of the world. Though Xiv knew their intentions. He had seen them act this way before.
Upon being cast down willingly regardless, a snake did appear and bit him. Grabbing unto the snake and crawling back up, he kept the gear. The venom made him fall asleep for a whole day.
He woke up having a form of ADHD. “The thrill of the hunt.” Man named it.
He walked back to the village he once loved and was willing to die for their fears. Only it was destroyed. All of the shiny colored stones were gone as were his people.
Ever since that day he’s never been the same.
He renamed himself Xivaoc “a series of unpronouncables” Quetz.
He would become a myth. That much was certain. If he could scare his foes by writing, how much more terrifying would it be if the myth became true.
He wrote his myth. As though he was a fearsome warrior, blessed by powers beyond this world.
He stayed true to the ways of old. And he did hunt. He hunted to survive. He tracked down the people who took his family and some stones from them. He was stealthy in the night to travel past the guards unnoticed. He was humming the dogs back to sleep and telling the horses to remain calm.
After freeing his people from the camp of the enemy, he left them with their illiterate elderly and with a tablet containing his myth according to the words of the elderly. He then, before the sun had risen, placed his own written account of the events in the camp of the enemy. Not as a hint to take them on again, but as a warning, that he could have killed them all, but sparred them.
He left them his weapons, shield, cloak and even his mask. Though the enemies couldn’t do anything with it, they took it home and opened a museum. Ultimately, an infectious leech got the better of him, as our hero died in his favorite writing spot. The waterfall pool that was in the heart of the jungle.
Years after he died, the two documents became into a new conflict. And only his corpse gave light to the truth. For he had died, literally on the paper that settled many disputes. The tools he had were examined and enchanted during these times. His loincloth to sustain one’s body beyond regular injury. His cloak with a teleportation and stealth device. All of his weapons that were from wood originally were replaced by their mythical material counterparts. His mask was the most courageous piece of engineering in the artifacts department. Being able to completely transmutate a live and moveable tree around a person, understand dog and horse noises (as these were the most used at the time) and can give tour information to its wearer as it arrives at important destinations mentioned in most museums. These things would be lost however, as when they recreated the myth, the various rivalries and mockeries of the texts caused a breakdown of the museum in which all of these were stored. The government told people to stay out of the rubble and had to enforce it.
Until they too passed away and knowledge of this story was lost.

Myth:
This immortal being hunts the very greatest and wildest of beasts. He rode the giant snake to edge of the world and overruled all of its monsters.
He left unscathed. He's stared into the abyss and won the contest. Having toppled buildings, high sprinters and being older than time could tell,
His spirit has undergone immensive training and has mastered the spirit of the true beast. He guards the laws by which the worlds run.
Both in life and in temporary death, he serves mankind as best he can. For many years the mask was silent and in hands of a corpus mind.
But even that would not defeat the champion. Legend has it, that if you can either conquer or rip out his heart, he dies, leaving you the eternal life.
His legend as a great hunter preceeds those in the west of the world. The others not so much.
It is said the weapons and their original powers were stolen or lost with the words.
They might be spread across the world. They might be hidden on the very corners of the world.
But one thing is certain. Xivaoc will rise again!

Relations

* ☠ Enemy * ⚜ Unfriendly * ☯ Neutral * ☮ Friends * ღ Ally * ♥ Crush/Significant Other *

• Name: Description
• Name: Description
• Name: Description
• Name: Description
• Name: Description
• Name: Description

Extras (Optional)

Character Quote: "Fly like a lion, strike like thunder! Sacrifice is power!"
Theme Song: Something like this
Anything Else:
Often hungry. sleepless and often motivated by money or gold.

Supernatural creatures and humans trying to live in harmony (Dead)

@Letmehaveone2@Mae

Park:

Slacky being carried felt happy. She decided she wouldn't devour this town to feed her endless hair-supply. (Not that anyone would notice.)
"People are dumb..." She mumbled as she was being moved. Squeezing through her eyes, she saw a bunch of people touching eachother.. but 2 really stood out.....

-----
Aki told him the following: "As a child, i have heard many tales about you. You, A werecreature!" He leaned to the left. "A shark it seems." He grinned. "Don't stay out on land to long, you might kill someone."

Aki looked down as he felt something touching his heel. "Hmm.. And you especially need to stay away from fluffer over here." He picked up Mizu and pet her the way only villians know how to. "I'll see you in the morning, Sharky. After you slept with the fishes."
He laughed at his own terrible pun.

Monster Musume: Everyday life with Monsters.

Interest present! xD

...

@Tackytaff It is. :)

Just waiting to hear from @catchamber

...

All ready!!!! @catchamber

Supernatural creatures and humans trying to live in harmony (Dead)

@LadyinInk You are at a bar near a "dumpstered" cake-shop. Robber and ghost inside robber are there talking to you..(Bishop)

Aki(Me) is at the beach with Mizu/mytsu(Mae).. and Shark-man(Letmehaveone2)

Forest is empty.

Park has 2 edgy characters meeting

Somewhere in the city a succubus and a demon? are having a coffee together

That's about it in short..