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Dead inside, but somehow still kicking.

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Grateful for the relief from the heat, John smiled and shook his head. "No I believe that that chap is a little farther down the beach. I heard him as well," John said as he took the banana leaf from her grasp and put it over his own head.
"If you can hear me, just shout!" John heard as he walked. He had finally gotten caught up to the owner of the footsteps. Then he heard coughing. He looked behind him and saw a girl laying on the beach. How had he missed her? He must be getting heat stroke. The sun had been beating down on him for god knows how long. He ran to the girl and knelt beside her. "Are you alright?" he asked, sympathy in his eyes. "What a stupid question. Of course your not alright. You're sitting on a beach hacking out a lung after a shipwreck and a man you've never met is rambling on to you. It doesn't sound very alright to me. But then again, maybe that is your definition of alright. I guess I can't be sure because we've never met. I do apologize. I haven't properly introduced myself. My name is John," he said with a smile and a glint in his eye.
John was awoken by the salty taste of the calm ocean that lapped at his face. He crawled out of the reach of the oncoming waves and then opened his eyes to observe his surroundings. He was on an island. That much was for sure. He was surrounded by driftwood and other debris from the ship. That's right! He had been on a ship! The last thing he remembered was being knocked unconscious which seemed correct because his head felt as if someone had slammed it into a steel door. He realized that he should start looking for survivors of the treacherous shipwreck that may have also been washed ashore on the island. "Hello?!" he shouted. He could have sworn he heard a shout. Was it left? Or maybe right? He decided to go with his gut and stood up, ignoring the pain in his arms and legs and every other part of his body, and turned to the right. After a half hour of walking he stumbled upon some footprints. "YES!" he shouted. He was elated to discover that he was not the only person on the island, and started following the footprints.
John fell to his knees, weakened by the blast he'd sent at Hellhound. But he needed help. He could tell Nic wasn't going to be able to hold him for much longer if Hellhound came to his senses. He stood back up, a look of defiance in his face. He turned his hands towards Hellhound and forced him down. If he woke up he'd be held there. At least for a little while. But John could feel his powers draining. Sparkplug needed to absorb Hellhound. And fast.
Lol don't feel bad
Yeah I love the idea
Yeah a beach would be pretty cool
Name:John Riverheart
Race:Elf
Age:Was born 50 years ago but looks only 17.
Sex:Male
Skills: (This includes cooking, magic, swordplay, stealing, etc.)John is an exceptional swordsman and is one of the greatest in his tribe. He's also very skilled with a bow and magic was taught to him by the village mage. However, his magic skills are not anything like those of an elf born in the fall. The best he can do is create a very small fireball.
Appearance: (Description would work best, but a picture for examples of features is acceptable)John stands at about 6 feet and has blond hair that covers his ears. He has piercing blue eyes that many have described as looking into your soul. He has the fair skin that is common in most elves.
History: (Where do you come from? Why are you in town right now? Stuff like that)John comes from a recently formed elf(well 200 years old) and was sent to town to do some diplomatic things for his tribe.
Thats a good point. I hadn't thought of all the other districts.
Yeah I see what you mean. I could see it being a bit weird if one of the more agressive squad members had the power to take over the world and didn't do it unless she had some life altering event.
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