Status

Recent Statuses

2 mos ago
Current hue

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

well, my character is off doing his own things until he gets back tomorrow night (compared to the starting scene), but after that he can join group discussions

or i can always go back and change my post. also depends on what @Geos and @Fiya are gonna do?
After having his shackles removed, Ahelair slumps to the floor in defeat from having his sweet release denied him...

Having no recollection of it, he was somehow ushered into a guestroom...
In a bewildered state and mostly through force of habit, he thoroughly washed himself before going to bed...
After a good nights rest (especially after 2 weeks in the dungeon), after another, even more thorough washing, and maintenance of his beard and hair to a semi-decent state, Ahelair sat down on the side of his temporary bed, head down, face in the palms of his hands to try to come to terms with his current situation, and trying his best to ignore his wife Flyssia sitting next to him.

"Ahelair... Ahelair Ander. You... you have a job to do. It... might, not be the craft of healing you have dedicated more than a century to, but... if you... if we succeed, will you not have saved lives? Possibly the lives of everyone in all the known nations? And on this dangerous venture, will they not need a healer to make sure they have a better chance of success?...
...
..
.
If I can help to fight back against those monstrosities... will I not have avenged my poor family...?"

Without looking, Ahelair knew that his family was standing behind him, staring, waiting. The weight of their empty-eyed glares bore into the back of his head...

Later that day, Ahelair went to barracks to retrieve his whitewood staff and medicinal leather satchel that were confiscated from him a fortnight ago. While there he also procured a knife, which should be handy when traveling.
Afterwards, he went back to his clinic and home to get dressed in his most well-kept robe (which isn't saying much) and cloak, refill his satchel with fresh herbs and a variety of completed potions and ointments, and to give some final, detailed instructions to his nurses, to hug them and wish them the best.

Then, going upstairs, Ahelair took down various paintings of his family that he had commissioned back when life was perfect...
He stared at them until nightfall. He then removed them from their frames, and even knowing they would crack, break... he folded them to be stored in his satchel, before returning to the Administration to see what the next step was.
Just wanted to ask the other players, did any of you want to do group conversations or still go about private activities and preparations?
Slumped and limping on his way to the council chamber, Ahelair Ander of Flandasyria thought to himself,
Ah, it seems my time has come... I wish I had time to do more but at least I'll finally be with my lovely Flyssia, my children and theirs... wait for me, just a moment longer...

Ahelair is roused from this thoughts when he noticed the eyes of the council we're on him, waiting for him to speak. Though visibly tired, he stands up straighter, and with an old but clear voice, Ahelair addresses the council.

"My esteemed Lords and ladies..." he bows slightly before continuing, "I can hardly fathom the weight of responsibility you all must bear in these troubled times, and I apologize profusely for being an added burden... I of course accept whatever punishment you deem necessary. I only ask that you grant this old healer a last request?"
He pauses, turning to watch his 3 grandchildren scamper across the room screaming in laughter. Clearing his throat, he continues,
"Ahrm hm. Dear leaders, I would humbly ask that all my assets and property, whether in current form or as funds from being sold, be used to aid the weak, the destitute, and the helpless, for they are indeed helpless...
And while I know that most or all persons with medical training are currently in service to the military, I would beg your Graces to allow for 2 or 3 to dedicate themselves to care for the citizenry. Please dear council, you would find this tired old elf most grateful..."


Ahelair let's out a long breath before lowering his head, ready to let go of the weight of his guilt and loneliness.
Ahelair the Kind



Name: Ahelair Ander. Also known as Ahelair the Kind or Kind Ahel
Race and Age: Elf, 233 years

HP: ❇❇❇
SP: ❇❇❇❇

Job: Healer lvl 4
Magic: Wind lvl 2
Curse: Curse of Annuiyntar lvl 2

Background:
140 years ago, Ahelair Ander of Flandasyria and his wife, Flyssia Flinder of Flandasyria, left their home town, seeking adventure and new opportunities in one of the greatest metropolises in the world, the wondrous City of Light. After a decade of hopping from one adventure party to another, the two finally gathered enough funds to settle down comfortably. Their residence, located on Main street between the Merchant and Noble districts of the City, became known as the Flandasyrian Clinic and Apothecary.
Over the next 120 years, the City-folk would come to call the loving couple "Ahelair the Kind", "Flyssia the Gentle", and collectively "the Flanders", for their dedicated health and counseling services. They were well loved by the populace, both high and low: Ahelair for the donation of his time and effort to helping the poor and homeless, and Flyssia for her sage advice, mainly for but not limited to young lovers and first-time mothers. During this time, the Flanders had a son Hessyl, and daughter Lylier, who both later married and had their own children: Tineth and Timyl, and Lyssia respectively.

20 years ago, a week before Behemoth fell into the ocean, Flyssia, suffering 2 days of intense headaches that had no cure nor remedy, woke up in the middle of the night and screamed "THEY ARE COMING!" before dying on the spot, copious amounts of blood leaking from her head. As heartbroken as he was, in later years, Ahelair would count this event as a blessing. If Flyssia had survived that night she may have easily succumbed to the madness of the Dark Gods' Curse and turned into some unthinkable monstrosity.

15 years ago, in one of the many, but more successful, invasion by creatures of the Dark Gods, Ahelair's children and grandchildren were either killed, or turned into Pathfinders and then subsequently killed by the City Garrison. Since then, having lost all of his remaining loved ones, Ahelair maniacally poured all his time, money and energy into taking care of the failing City to keep himself so busy that he wouldn't have time to think of everything he's lost. The Flanders' house, and the houses of their 2 children were converted into refugee housing, with the main house still functioning as a clinic to all those in pain. Whatever money he had, Ahelair used it to purchase ever more expensive food and supplies for the downtrodden and war-torn.

Even with all this work and activity, he still couldn't fully ignore the hallucinations. Of course they were hallucinations. Phantoms of his lost family, walking up to him, talking to him as if they were whole and well.
But however much Ahelair would have wanted them to be real, he remembered all too well his own screaming as he cradled the butchered bodies of his grandchildren.
He remembered when he threw himself at the Garrison soldiers to stop them from executing the Pathfinders pretending to be his children.
He remembered cleaning his beloved Flyssia in preparation for her burial.
He knew they were gone, and that he must be mad. Ahelair had seen it happen many times and knew too well the curse of madness that would take random individuals within the City.

But there were so many in need of help. So many who weren't mad yet. So many parents with children who could still be saved. So he kept his visions to himself and promised to keep working as long as his body, and his mind were still able.
When the City Garrison came for him, Ahelair lowered his head and willingly let himself be taken.


Personality:
Ahelair at his best is kind, patient, and generous. Even with the events of the last 20 years, with all the physical and emotional stress, he has managed to somehow retain these qualities. Maybe it is Ahelair's advanced age solidifying his personality, or maybe he is desperately holding onto himself so as not to disappoint his deceased family.
At his worst, he is tired, depressed and desperate. No matter how tired he is, he won't stop helping people. He feels that if he can help enough people, it might make up for him failing to protect his family.

He takes pride in his family, his people and culture, and knowing that his skill has helped a great many people throughout the years.
He is fond of taking afternoon walks by river or country side, and of gentle flute music.

Appearance:
In the past, Ahelair stood tall and proud, but never pompous. His large eyes were determined, almost piercing, but always had a soft gentleness. He was neat and tidy, keeping his dark hair and long beard trimmed and clean. He wore long, simply fashioned white and light green robes with a white cloak. He carried around with him a worn leather satchel that holds various herbs and medicinal concoctions, and a sturdy whitewood staff capped with silver, and a spherical, gleaming, olive-colored gem entwined in silver vines on top.

Nowadays it is not so. His old age and constant work catching up to him, Ahelair stumbles around with a hunched posture, his unkempt hair and beard a withered grey. His once gentle eyes now looking tired and sagging. His robes no longer white, but greyish and frayed around the edges. The only thing still clean and undiminished are his staff and satchel, the tools of his trade and the only pride he has left in this world.

Coping Mechanism:
Ahelair constantly has auditory and/or visual hallucinations. To him they are as real as the ground he stands on, almost to the point of him thinking he can touch the visions. The hallucinations primarily manifest as his lost family, which is both a boon and bane for Ahelair. Usually, the phantoms look how they did in life, unharmed, whole and happy. But when Ahelair's mood is dark or when the curse is strong they transform into dark nightmarish versions of the time they passed.

Mechanic:
Whenever Ahelair loses SP, he gets to make a hallucination roll. If the visions are good, or if he is able resist them, then he will regain the lost SP. If the visions are bad, or if he succumbs to the hallucinations, then he will lose extra SP.
Ahelair the Kind



Name: Ahelair Ander. Also known as Ahelair the Kind or Kind Ahel
Race and Age: Elf, 233 years

HP: ❇❇❇
SP: ❇❇❇❇

Job: Healer lvl 4
Magic: Wind lvl 2
Curse: Curse of Annuiyntar lvl 2

Background:
140 years ago, Ahelair Ander of Flandasyria and his wife, Flyssia Flinder of Flandasyria, left their home town, seeking adventure and new opportunities in one of the greatest metropolises in the world, the wondrous City of Light. After a decade of hopping from one adventure party to another, the two finally gathered enough funds to settle down comfortably. Their residence, located on Main street between the Merchant and Noble districts of the City, became known as the Flandasyrian Clinic and Apothecary.
Over the next 120 years, the City-folk would come to call the loving couple "Ahelair the Kind", "Flyssia the Gentle", and collectively "the Flanders", for their dedicated health and counseling services. They were well loved by the populace, both high and low: Ahelair for the donation of his time and effort to helping the poor and homeless, and Flyssia for her sage advice, mainly for but not limited to young lovers and first-time mothers. During this time, the Flanders had a son Hessyl, and daughter Lylier, who both later married and had their own children: Tineth and Timyl, and Lyssia respectively.

20 years ago, a week before Behemoth fell into the ocean, Flyssia, suffering 2 days of intense headaches that had no cure nor remedy, woke up in the middle of the night and screamed "THEY ARE COMING!" before dying on the spot, copious amounts of blood leaking from her head. As heartbroken as he was, in later years, Ahelair would count this event as a blessing. If Flyssia had survived that night she may have easily succumbed to the madness of the Dark Gods' Curse and turned into some unthinkable monstrosity.

15 years ago, in one of the many, but more successful, invasion by creatures of the Dark Gods, Ahelair's children and grandchildren were either killed, or turned into Pathfinders and then subsequently killed by the City Garrison. Since then, having lost all of his remaining loved ones, Ahelair maniacally poured all his time, money and energy into taking care of the failing City to keep himself so busy that he wouldn't have time to think of everything he's lost. The Flanders' house, and the houses of their 2 children were converted into refugee housing, with the main house still functioning as a clinic to all those in pain. Whatever money he had, Ahelair used it to purchase ever more expensive food and supplies for the downtrodden and war-torn.

Even with all this work and activity, he still couldn't fully ignore the hallucinations. Of course they were hallucinations. Phantoms of his lost family, walking up to him, talking to him as if they were whole and well.
But however much Ahelair would have wanted them to be real, he remembered all too well his own screaming as he cradled the butchered bodies of his grandchildren.
He remembered when he threw himself at the Garrison soldiers to stop them from executing the Pathfinders pretending to be his children.
He remembered cleaning his beloved Flyssia in preparation for her burial.
He knew they were gone, and that he must be mad. Ahelair had seen it happen many times and knew too well the curse of madness that would take random individuals within the City.

But there were so many in need of help. So many who weren't mad yet. So many parents with children who could still be saved. So he kept his visions to himself and promised to keep working as long as his body, and his mind were still able.
When the City Garrison came for him, Ahelair lowered his head and willingly let himself be taken.


Personality:
Ahelair at his best is kind, patient, and generous. Even with the events of the last 20 years, with all the physical and emotional stress, he has managed to somehow retain these qualities. Maybe it is Ahelair's advanced age solidifying his personality, or maybe he is desperately holding onto himself so as not to disappoint his deceased family.
At his worst, he is tired, depressed and desperate. No matter how tired he is, he won't stop helping people. He feels that if he can help enough people, it might make up for him failing to protect his family.

He takes pride in his family, his people and culture, and knowing that his skill has helped a great many people throughout the years.
He is fond of taking afternoon walks by river or country side, and of gentle flute music.

Appearance:
In the past, Ahelair stood tall and proud, but never pompous. His large eyes were determined, almost piercing, but always had a soft gentleness. He was neat and tidy, keeping his dark hair and long beard trimmed and clean. He wore long, simply fashioned white and light green robes with a white cloak. He carried around with him a worn leather satchel that holds various herbs and medicinal concoctions, and a sturdy whitewood staff capped with silver, and a spherical, gleaming, olive-colored gem entwined in silver vines on top.

Nowadays it is not so. His old age and constant work catching up to him, Ahelair stumbles around with a hunched posture, his unkempt hair and beard a withered grey. His once gentle eyes now looking tired and sagging. His robes no longer white, but greyish and frayed around the edges. The only thing still clean and undiminished are his staff and satchel, the tools of his trade and the only pride he has left in this world.

Coping Mechanism:
Ahelair constantly has auditory and/or visual hallucinations. To him they are as real as the ground he stands on, almost to the point of him thinking he can touch the visions. The hallucinations primarily manifest as his lost family, which is both a boon and bane for Ahelair. Usually, the phantoms look how they did in life, unharmed, whole and happy. But when Ahelair's mood is dark or when the curse is strong they transform into dark nightmarish versions of the time they passed.

Mechanic:
Whenever Ahelair loses SP, he gets to make a hallucination roll. If the visions are good, or if he is able resist them, then he will regain the lost SP. If the visions are bad, or if he succumbs to the hallucinations, then he will lose extra SP.
Natalie had been standing arms crossed on deck of the carrier Achilles when the orders were issued through Tirapon. She slowly opened her eyes and took a deep breath.

Raising her right arm into a fist over her head, it started glowing as she shouted "NEPHILIIIIIIIIM!!!"
Then as a brilliant blue glow surrounded her, Natalie floated skyward veering towards the Volta Alien, increasing in size and velocity.

The now formed Nephilim stopped and looked down upon the alien threat. Not wanting to attack the hard shell, she maneuvered herself to have a better angle at the creatures head, gathered her energy, and flew down near-instantly with a flying side kick.
I'll try to get a reply out later today!
Natalie would have given Dr. Park a harsh questioning look for his cheesy lighthearted attitude if not for the sudden psychic message from Tirapon.

'yes, yes i can here you! is hear the correct word? but anyways, yes i confirm a connection.'

Natalie then turns to Tirapon and gives him a good-natured, re-appraising smile. She then turns away and looks inward, mentally readying herself for the coming battle...
Having just sent out the call orders, Nicole chirped out "Yes Secretary!" before making her way to the Achilles. Nicole was eager to see Nat in action!



After Dr. Park's introduction of Tirapon, Natalie extends a hand to the young communications specialist,
"Good to meet you. It will be interesting to see what telepathy feels like. I look forward to working with you."

Then turning to Dr. Park, "Doctor, do we know anything about EO4 yet? What is the ETA?"
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet