Tracyarmav

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

46

Knighthood- Closed

Just me jumping in, I think.

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

43

Ragnarok: Gods Descending

Well, I'll @ mention folks when she gets back, unless she does that herself.

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

40

Knighthood- Closed

Fresh Blood

Tracyarmav

Day 1, Morning

Christian, Calder

Calder slept like a stone, not having had much rest prior to arriving at the tower. He rose late, and took his time stretching and planning his opening feint... it would be with the Avatar of Storms. It would be interesting to see how the man would react. He'd doubtless see right through the ploy, but perhaps he would play along and find his own uses for it, like a proper fae lord. If he didn't notice the ruse or chose to ignore it, no matter, it would still give him some practice with the new mask. Calder reached into one of his pockets, and pulled out a sealed clay jar, not much smaller than his head. He opened it carefully and then muttered something under his breath, and his hands warmed up, and in a few moments the jar of thick broth was bubbling gently. Calder put the jar to his lips and drank the whole jar in a series of large gulps, enjoying the warmth flowing down his throat and then seeping into the rest of him. It was time, the late risers were stirring, he'd just make it to Christian's office before a line started if he left now.

Plodding into the corridor, Calder made his way to the lifts, with a slow heavy step, completely devoid of grace. He trudged along, grunting in reply to any greetings offered by others in the halls. Waiting for an empty lift car, he gazed at around him dully, seeming to take in very little of his surroundings. Doing his best to cultivate the dumb strong stereo type with his fellow initiates. Why? simple, the less they knew the less they could tell someone else, regardless of their level of motivation. The elevator opened, and the few beings in it looked at him and quickly emptied the elevator. His scaly body stood 7'11" tall, and close to 4' at the shoulder, he was not a being that others felt comfortable with in an enclosed space, like an elevator. Calder stomped onto the elevator, and gazed at the buttons blankly before pushing one, seemingly at random. The doors closed, and he grinned maliciously. Mortals were so easily deceived preferring to see what they wanted rather than the painful truth of the matter.

The doors opened and Calder plodded out, passing an armed and armored girl(Adéla) he'd not seen before on her way out. He grunted a greeting at her, and plodded on by without changing pace in the slightest. Stopping at the door to Christian's office, Calder waited a moment before raising a fist to pound on the door three times. He then stood there staring blankly at the door awaiting the summons that he expected would soon be forthcoming.

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

31

Ragnarok: Gods Descending

Indeed, alas I have no means of reaching her. I've availed myself of both the PMs here and the ehterpad she set up with no noticeable effect. :/

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

23

Knighthood- Closed

okay, so here's what I've got pulled together, with significant help from @Themerlinhawk

CS

Name: Calder Dylan

Alias/Nickname: Maelstrom, Jug, The Cauldron

Appearance:
He wears a pair crude leather shorts, that look like they might have been made from a blacksmith's apron, due the numerous pockets and general quality of the cloth. Standing at just under 8 ft tall, and weighing nearly 600 lbs, of scaled hide, thick bones, and hard muscle, he's no light weight and can take quite a punch.

Age: 576

Race: Troll

Personality: Usually an agreeable fellow, he tends to give what he gets, his attitude reflecting a tooth-for-tooth pattern with those around him. If he receives kindness, he returns it; if he receives cruelty he return that instead. He doesn't seem to harbor any driving emotions himself, preferring always to flow with the tide of emotions around him. How ever his eyes bely his cunning, and he often seeks to achieve his goals as indirectly as possible, or at the least at someone else's request. This isn't laziness, but a lifetime of being manipulated into serving others often at great personal cost.

Biography/history: Born long ago, to a fae mother and a water elemental father, he was born out of contract not love, which some would say his mother couldn't feel if she were drowned in it. Calder knows better, but he also knows better than to correct the poor fools. Knowledge is power, no matter how insignificant it may seem at the time, so you never, ever give information or knowledge to someone else with out receiving something of kindred value. He has spent a lot of time, serving and giving of himself, so that he might receive knowledge and power of equal value to his services. He's been an enforcer, a guard, even a professional soldier, of sorts, for various fae lords and ladies. Few people know his heritage, few understand his beginnings, but Calder knows, and he isn't likely to share it. He is most comfortable fighting in melee, with mace and shield, bashing and pushing opponents into submission or oblivion as his orders dictated. He rarely makes a move himself, preferring to follow the lead of others. Partly so to absolve himself of blame, and partly to mask his true abilities and capabilities with arrogance and presumption of his commanding officers. Much of his pay was in the form of knowledge, knowledge of water and it's many forms and properties and knowledge of magic, mostly related to doing his job better. He has learned many things in his five and three quarters centuries of life. And his eyes show it, but if you let his manner deceive you, as many do, he's little more than a dangerous boy. Easily manipulated, and distracted, he seems to wander about from place to place, job to job, looking or nothing more than another good time of smashing beings someone is paying him to smash, for no other reason than that it pays the bills, apparently. Few pry any deeper, though one of the few who've tried is currently employed by the Stygian Blade Guild, and he's made a mistake, Calder is hunting in his own special, very patient way.

Calder seem's to be the embodiment, even the physical avatar, of the term passive-aggressive. He is well known in the fae circles for his work as a mid level enforcer for the fall court during his first three centuries of existence. He hasn't distinguished himself in any particular way, though he's never failed a job because he underestimated an opponent. The jobs he's failed were due to his having been poorly informed of the situation, or the unexpected involvement of third parties. Like all fae, his word is binding. He's never broken his word before, a mildly impressive feat at his age, and he's not about to throw that power away.

Reason for recruitment: Looking for friends again, it's been close to a century since he had any, but he remembers them and want to make new friends. At least, that's what he told the recruiter...

Strength of Will: Greater Will

Magic: Abjuration & Force.

God relations: He worships no God, instead he gives each their due, recognizing all but adhering to none.

Tech: {Boron nitride mace/Blasting rod(as per Harry's, boosts attack spells efficiency).}

{Magic shield, made of boron nitride with silver and iron embellishments. The shield itself is highly resistant to force magic, repelling it like magnets of like poles. It doesn't negate it, and strong enough blasts will still connect, but the little stuff, and a small part of the bigger stuff, will be repelled away from the shield face to hit something else. The shield is big enough that Calder won't get hit by any of the little stuff, but his allies might get hit instead. If he cares, a big if, he may try to repel the attack in a particular direction by angling the face of his shield, but that's no guarantee of the force reaction.}

{GreavesBoron nitrate plates, cold steel spikes. Enchanted to store kinetic energy as mana. Calder uses it to heal himself and allies after a fight.}

Possessions/items/property: Cargo shorts with extra dimensional pockets, delve at your own risk.

Skills: Calder Crush! A master of close quarters combat, he's learned most of what he knows on the job, not in some regulated arena, much less a peaceful dojo. His greatest skill is pattern recognition, in behavior, in thought, or in action, if a pattern exists he will find it, eventually. Natural regeneration, trolls don't die easy, never have never will, poisons are largely ineffective, wounds heal quickly, even up to full limb replacement, though that takes decades.