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  #11  
Old 10-28-2008, 10:37 PM
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i)Name: Callimachus Alveron

ii)Gender: Male

iii)Race: Human

iv)Class: War Master

v)Weapons, Equipment, and Tools: Callimachus carries a mildly enchanted Longsword, and a strong steel Kite Shield. His armour might once have appeared noble and shining, years ago, but it is now battered and dull, as though he was fresh from a fight. His men are equipped with great halberds, wearing a steel helmet and breastplaste, each well-trained and blooded in battle. One of the fourteen soldiers at his command instead wields a sword and carries the Banner bearing their Crest, the honourable Standard which grants them determination and unity, not through magic, but through Pride. It bears markers of their most memorable battles, and they will keep the Standard to the End. It is worth dying for, and they have not died in vain who have died in its defense. The Banner cannot be allowed to fall.

vi)Skills: Callimachus and his men, the Liirhra, are skilled at fighting in loose formation, almost as heavy skirmishers, staying close enough together to be able to aid one another in battle, but far enough apart that they need not use a formation with their long weapons. each man is a skilled fighter in his own right, and Callimachus the best of them. His leadership and inspirational ability, however, is what puts him in charge, as none other in his unit can rival him in wordplay, the ability to take new recruits and instill within them a sense of purpose and bravery, or to boost the spirits of his freinds, or even to talk an employer into a larger fee, his silvered tongue is dependable in its ability to keep them alive, inspired, and fed.

vi)Appearance: Callimachus is a younger man, but strong a thickly bearded. His hair is wild and unruly, and fairly long. His armour is beaten and battered, though still very functional, and his armaments are well taken care of.

vii)Character History: Callimachus is from a small village, high in the mountains. The people of this village, even the women and children, are able to fight, as they are often threatened by monsters or bandits. Callimachus grew strong here, learning how to fight, and how to win. He eventually left, with fourteen other young men, to find his fortune in adventure and battle. Three of this first fourteen still draw breath, and two of them no longer fight alongside Callimachus, retiring to a more peaceful life, perhaps running an inn in a town, or farming. However, Kaldan, the remaining warrior from the small village of their birth, is almost as skilled with a blade as Callimachus, and it is he who carries the Banner, the life of the warriors under Callimachus's command.
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  #12  
Old 10-29-2008, 02:00 AM
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"We sanctioned alchemists work alone because others fear we'll blow them up during battle by accident.
There's only about a 2.5% chance of that happening, though... or so the studies say."

Name: Lechies Delaroc
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Class: Sanctioned Alchemist
Faction: Steel Empire
Lineage: Ajendra Apothecary

Equipment: Lechies is almost never without a healthy supply of gels, elixirs, and concoctions, lovingly mixed in her humble shack of a laboratory before embarking on each expedition. If by some nasty misfortune she finds herself out of mixtures to throw, she has her alchemist's knife tucked into her right boot. It's usually used for cutting plants, but it works fine against goblins and the like in a pinch. When adventuring, Lechies keeps her alchemist's tools and handbooks in a large leather pouch slung across her chest. A second leather pouch is strapped across her chest the opposite way, intended for carrying any ingredients she finds or discovers in her travels.

Skills: Alchemy, wondrous and dangerous. Some accuse of it being an offshoot of the forbidden magic arts, others insist it's a necessary tool for continued scientific advancement. Taking from her foster father's philosophy, Lechies views her discipline as an efficient combination of both. She admits that despite her sixteen years of hard training, there is still much she doesn't understand about alchemy. Every new concoction mixed without exploding is at once a victory and a miracle. Lechies' studies were not for nothing, however; she is sanctioned by the God Emperor and wields her alchemic knowledge to devastating effect. The trick is directing that devastation at the right target...

Description: Lechies has copper hair tied back in a ponytail and hazel eyes. Standing at no more than 5'1, her thin and scrawny figure often encourages laughter when hardened adventurers spot her coming into their taverns; that is, until she starts threatening people with uncorked bottles of her Acidstorm brew. Her passing brings many stares anyway, as she is covered in runic tattoos. Supposedly they help her concentration and augment her alchemic power, never mind those naysayers who howl that it's a form of witchcraft. Most of the runes are hidden beneath her clothing, but they do cover her hands and part of her face: her right palm and the back of her left hand have more ink than skin exposed, and her right cheek from chin to below her eye is covered in them.

Lechies dons official alchemist's robes, specially tailored to resist the hazardous substances she works with, and pretty darn fashionable to boot. She always orders them in hues of dark green and bronze, her favorite colors. They're almost useless against physical damage, but she values the ease of movement more than protection, and she's agile enough to evade most blows. Her concoctions are clipped to two thick belts criss-crossing her waist for easy access. A pair of sturdy leather boots and a conical bamboo hat complete her ensemble. When wandering within the Steel Empire's borders, Lechies has a round silver seal pinned to her robes that signifies her 'sanctioned' status and prevents her from being attacked on sight for heresy, in theory (the occasional zealot requires more convincing). Outside the Empire she doesn't bother to wear it, as she dislikes having to prove her official status with a little piece of metal rather than her actual alchemic prowess.

History: Her earliest memories begin in the slums of the capital, alone and hungry, dressed only in a large tattered man's shirt. Five years old and too young to work, she occupied the long hours by following strangers and begging for food. Within a year she would have died, but few cared. She was a product of the Empire's stupid and poor, those who were in the way of progress and so were packed into the most broken-down regions of the city, out of sight and out of mind. Another dead street urchin would hardly be stirring news.

On a cold winter day, Lechies was found by one Okaris Delaroc, master alchemist. By then she was lingering on the brink of starvation, too weak to speak, a physical struggle just to cup her hands and extend them towards him. By the grace of the God Emperor, rather than kick her away like most of the Empire's elite were wont to do, Okaris took pity on the child and scooped her into his arms, carrying her back home. By the next day he had become her official guardian.

Okaris was a man with compassion as fiery as his mixtures. Having lost his wife and young daughter to Ashpeak beast attacks a few years ago, stumbling upon Lechies seemed to him a sign from above. "Take her in," it said, "and let both of you fill the hole in each other's hearts."

He raised her like his own flesh and blood, personally overseeing both her academic and societal education. Lechies, not knowing so much kindness could exist in the world, latched onto him like a puppy, insisting on accompanying him everywhere. It wasn't long before she showed interest in the alchemical arts. Proud and happy to the point of tears, Okaris enrolled her in the Ajendra School of Alchemy, his alma mater.

Her first formal lesson took place shortly after she turned eight, and from that day forth she lived and breathed alchemy. During the day, she studied with the masters at Ajendra. At night, she would return home where Okaris imparted some of his personal wisdom. There was nothing Lechies refused to learn; where she had once hungered for food, books were now her nourishment, and she simply couldn't get enough.

Twelve years later, after one last examination to convince the local Imperial inquisitor that she wouldn't accidentally blow up the city, her teachers considered her training complete and encouraged her to further her training in the wide open world. Lechies was overjoyed to receive the documents that proclaimed her as a sanctioned alchemist. With these in hand she would finally be able to join her foster father in his travels.

But it was not to be. Even master alchemists make mistakes, and once Okaris got word that Lechies' training was finished, he was so elated that he lost his concentration and dropped the wrong ingredient into his elixir, sending the whole house up in a giant ball of flames. Lechies mourned, but not for too long; she knew he wouldn't have wanted to see her sad, and besides, death by explosion was part of the alchemist's cycle of life.

Since then, Lechies has sworn allegiance to the God Emperor and makes constant expeditions into the wild, searching for new ingredients and accumulating scientific knowledge in the Empire's name. In this way too, she believes that through her work her beloved foster father can live on.
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Lechies - Sanctioned Alchemist (Now in RP flavor!)
Baatzan - Bone Lord
Mirevra - Sky Guard
Ivanna - Inquisitor (HC)
Sonohei - Dread Minstrel (HC)

Last edited by bambooxfox; 11-26-2008 at 07:50 AM.
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  #13  
Old 10-31-2008, 10:34 AM
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adhs22 adhs22 is offline
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Name: Locolus
Gender: male
Race:dwarf
Class: sky guard
Weapons: heavy spear (at least, he finds it heavy)
Steel chain mail
Grip: his father’s old and trusted Griffion
Description: I wont go into details but lets just say… unfortunate... and corpulent.
Faction: Mountain kingdoms but his anger towards demons is so great that he will side with anyone sober... or

Character history: Locolus, once son of a great sky guard Talerous, was only a mere afterthought in the eye of the world around him and even more so in the eye of his father. But when the demon lord Gralzzerk slew his father on a seemingly simple raid through the impish caverns that scour the mountains along his estate, Locolus takes up his father’s eagle and sets out to slay his newfound enemy. But lack of training and an absolute lack of skill (he gets it from his mothers side I swear) shows and Locolus is forced to battle with other adventures in the hope of finding this lord that he knows nothing about and by doing so reclaim his fathers name. Locolus is stuck between his desire to help all people that are ailed by the barbaric demons and his inability to beat them which is often the cause of many a misadventure and if it wasn’t for grip (moody little thing as she is) he would have died many years ago by even the lowliest of imp lings.
Five months ago, Locolus found mention of Gralzzerk in a half charred piece of parchment found off one of his newer victims (“that imp had it commin”) that read:
Broken coils hide his abode
But danger lurks inside it
Never let lord Grazzerk know
That his followers are divided

The shackles that surround the place
Are raw with bloodlust anger
His followers will find the cavern
Within the D…


That was all that was left of the parchment and Locolus cursed (with encyclopaedic skill and unnatural vigour) his luck that his only lead was the letter D.
Four months later, drowning his sorrows at the dragon tavern, Locolus hears word that a valley of demotic caverns have been found by one of the war masters in the daggerspine rangers (how that rhymes with anger he’ll never know). Elated by the turn of events, Locolus saddled up his half sobered steed (much to her disapproval) and was off. Unfortunately Locolus was drunk at the time and almost instantly forgot where these caverns were meant to be and only to make matters worse; the war master was killed two days later whilst fighting an infamous PURPLE CUBE!
Yet again off-course, Locolus now follows one of his rather pathetic hunches, trying to regain some idea as to the whereabouts of Grazzerk and what the poem (if it is a poem) means about followers divided.

The only this worse than a angry griffen is a drunk one

Last edited by adhs22; 03-30-2009 at 06:27 AM.
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  #14  
Old 11-11-2008, 06:46 AM
thidius thidius is offline
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Thidius
Gender: male
Weapons: none
Class: inquisitor
Faction: steel empire
Lineage: Vokai fiend hunters cabal
Age 29
Skills: none apart from his mastery over hand to hand combat. He can’t even read or write and has no understanding about plants, animals and human reactions because of his inadequate and mysterious learning from within the holds of the Vokai.

Character history: Thidius was sold into slavery by his father: a powerful necromancer, to repay a debt lost in a gambling match. After six weeks in the steel empire’s slavers pits, Thidius was sent into the front lines against his father’s necronic army as archer fodder.

Three days later, Thidius climbed out of the valley and left. There were no survivors on either side. Hearing of this, Zealots from the steel empire sent there strongest agents out to capture and interrogate him. They managed to subdue him, at the cost of 3 of their men from the 5. He was 12 at the time.

17 years later, Thidius left the sanctuary of the Vokai training pits (with every medal to his name) with only his black leather clothing and a newfound sadistic nature. Nothing is known about what went on in there except that Thidius had the new intent of destroying all undead.
Little did the zealous fathers know, but Thidius held a grudge against the empire. A 17 year grudge. … Well one certain father cronuk now knew… ehem…

But cronuk had friends and Thidius is currently on the run, Hunted by his fellows and anyone wanting his hefty ransom.

Alone in his quest to over throw the empire, Thidius travels the world trying to find allies and enough gold for an army of mercenaries.
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  #15  
Old 11-14-2008, 07:08 AM
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Acebrock Acebrock is offline
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I intend to expand on her history as time goes on.

NAME: Unkown, simply known as Dread Ace
AGE: Unknown, assumed to be around 19
GENDER: Female
RACE: Undead human
CLASS: Death Knight
FACTION: Deadlands

EQUIPMENT: Tome of the Withering Body Field, Necrotanium Longsword, Light Voidsteel Platemail, Soulblight Aura, Ghostrunner Steed

Description: She gained the name Dread Ace because she hangs around with a man named Ace Brock, who hails from the Mountain Kingdoms.

She is very mysterious and quite shy. When she is ased about he shyness, all she says is "I prefer to let my weapons do the talking," and when she does speak up, everyone in the immediate vicinity listens, perhaps hoping to learn about her mysterious past. She also tends to keep to herself, and has only a few people she calls friends, mostly from the Deadlands, with the rest being from the Mountain Kingdoms.

Like many Death Knights, she has kept the appearance she had when she was mortal, and this has made people think she is mortal from time to time. Notably, she is almost always seen in her armor, only removing her helmet to eat and drink.

Her anger is legendary, if rarely seen (she has a very good temper), and those who have seen it tend to leave the room when she enters.

She is a no-nonsense type of fighter, quickly going in for the kill, often unconcerned about her own safety, and this shows in the large gouges and obvious repairs in her armor, as well as the scars on her face, which is the only visible skin on her body at any time, and this only when she removes her helmet. However, even if she is far from the best fighter, no one can deny that she is ruthlessly efficient with her deadly craft.

History: Little is known about her history, and as a result many rumors surround her, such as the idea that she lost her memory at some point, or that her lover betrayed her and in a fit of rage, she killed him and fled to the Deadlands, none of which she will comment on, only saying that "My past is not important."

What is known, or more precisely, assumed, is that when she was young her mother was killed in a raid on the village that she lived in, in the Mountain Kingdoms.
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(accidently deleted at level 33)



Last edited by Acebrock; 12-01-2008 at 01:04 AM. Reason: Equipment update
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  #16  
Old 11-19-2008, 06:49 AM
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Acebrock Acebrock is offline
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He's really just to play a part in Dread Ace's stories, but I will probably expand his role in the universe

NAME:Ace Brock
AGE: 22
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human
CLASS: Sky Guard
FACTION: Mountain Kingdom

EQUIPMENT:
When girded for battle, he is known to wield his Heavy Runesteel Lance, and is arrayed in his Jeweled Runesteel Scalemail. He rides his Adult Skyclaw Wyvern into battle regularly.


DESCRIPTION: Best known as the best friend of Dread Ace (when asked about this, all she says is "I trust him"), Ace Brock is actually one of the most amiable Sky Guards you will ever meet. He is often seen joining in drunken parties and recounting, or asking about, many adventures. He also drinks heavily, because, as he puts it "Life's too short not to spend it having fun."

When he's afield he's brutally serious, killing anything that may present itself a threat to any civilization, or being severely wounded trying. He's been seen as far away as Ravenwatch, and been promoted many times throughout his career. He is considered a model soldier, other than his drinking problem.

He is also known to hate spiders and members of the Steel Empire.

HISTORY: If you met him, you would think he was you stereotypcal Sky Guard, however, it was commonly thought he would be an infiltrator, growing up near an elite academy for infiltrators. Wen he came of age, however, he chose the life of a Sky Guard. Something his parents, both famous within their field, never forgave him for. For this reason he doesn't talk about his childhood much.

After getting unceremoniuly unseated and thrown against a wall his personality didn't cahnge, but his friends poked fun at this a lot.
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(accidently deleted at level 33)



Last edited by Acebrock; 12-03-2008 at 07:00 AM.
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  #17  
Old 11-20-2008, 01:43 AM
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The Hunt The Hunt is offline
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Known as: Nelthrazar the Fallen.
Name: -
Approx. Age: 67
Class: Black Seer

Description & Equipment:
Nelthrazar is usually seen wearing a simple coarse grey hooded robe, tied at the waist by a black sash. A ceremonial dagger, it's blade long and curved hangs at his waist. Those who have seen his face will find that his eyes are covered by a black cloth. He has raven black hair streaked with white which falls to his shoulders. Once, his features had appeared to be that of a youthful man, about six feet in height, but now, they are sunken with lack of substantial food. As with most Black Seers, his power had increased over the years so much so that he had stopped ageing at the age of twenty seven; though, the lack of sustenance resulted in his current appearance. A silver cross shaped pendant hangs from his neck about two inches in length and an inch crossways. Runes run along it's surface.

Personality: Nelthrazar, unlike most Black Seers appear to be bitter rather than dark and sinister. He despises what he has become and views others who have not experienced hardship with a little scorn. Despite that, he usually has little to do with the lives of others; though, one could say that he searches for something in his life.

Background: Nelthrazar (obviously known by another name then) grew up in the harsh reality of the Deadlands. At the age of seven, the village where he lived was raided by a band of Lizardmen and trolls. The village defenders were overwhelmed before help could arrive. They were attacked while most of them still slumbered. Desperately his father fought to keep the invaders from killing his family. Being a former captain in the Deadland army, he managed to slay all the nearby foes but was not able to stop them from torching the house. He ran up to grab his son where he found his wife dead; she had used her body to shield Nel when a burning pillar of wood had fallen on them. Grabbing Nel, his father tried to carry him out of the house. However, as they reached the doorway, a fireball (probably cast by a troll shaman) exploded right in front of them. His father took the full brunt of it, while a flare caught Nel's face as he rode on his father's back. With the last of his strength, his father staggered out the door and set his son as far away from the burning building as possible.

When help arrived, they found a dead man and a crying child clinging to him. His eyes had been blinded by the fire...

A few years passed and the world sees Nelthrazar down a path no brighter, perhaps darker, than the one he came from. One of the members of the reinforcements who came to the aid of their village was a Black Seer known as Gorsatul the Dreaded, or Gorsa, among his fellow dark mages. Gorsa adopted Nel as his own. However, whatever the reason Gorsa did it, it sure wasn't with the intention of having a son. Being a very senior member of his trade, Gorsa had immense power as a Black Seer. Naturally, he imparted a portion of his knowledge to young Nel.

As he grew up, Nel learned more and more of the dark arts of being a Black Seer. One of the most feared people even within the Deadlands. He had a gift for magic but inside, he never really was one to follow these dark paths. Despite his conscience rebelling against him, Nel allowed himself to be immersed in the gruesome rituals and knowledge that Gorsa imparted to him. He learned to welcome the Voices that whispered in his mind. A pressence in every Black Seer, for it gave them immeasurable power. He embraced the twisted and dark principles taught him by his master. All these he did, until he became a very powerful force, rival even to Black Seers many years older than he. But, he had a weakness. Nel was blind.

On the night Nel was to turn eighteen, Gorsa took him to a Coven Moot: though black seers were essentially loners, once in a while they would gather together, and the leaders among them - usually the most powerful - would discuss the advancement of their general cause. This time there were no discussions. Forcefully, they tied Nel to a stone altar and began a summoning ritual. Through their combined power, they infused a powerful demon prince within the body of the young Seer. The torture was unbearable. But, Nel was strong.

A week after, Nel had finally wrested back control of his own mind and was allowed to walk free again, without supervision. However, a new world greeted Nel the first time he regained consciousness. Where his eyes had been, now only flaming green orbs could be seen within the charred sockets. Through this magical sight, Nel could see the near spirit part of the world. He saw the inherent energies which all things in the material plane gave off. However, such power had it's own dark side.

As Nel would find out later, he could not look at any other being straight in the eye or else, their souls would become locked to one another, only to be freed when either was absorbed into the other. The Coven had cursed him with a gift, the 'Eye of the Seer'. But whatever their reason for doing so, it was not to be accomplished, or maybe it was, one could never be certain. Such chaotically beautiful vision and power drove the young mage nearly mad. For unknown reasons he rebelled against them and turned away from his master. As a result, the Coven banished him and hence he became known as, Nelthrazar the Fallen.

(to be edited)

Last edited by The Hunt; 01-31-2009 at 02:01 PM.
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  #18  
Old 11-20-2008, 05:19 PM
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Aira Aira is offline
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NAME: Aira

AGE: Appears to be in her mid 20’s but being Elven she is older. Aira is herself unaware of her true age

GENDER: Female

RACE: Elven

CLASS: Moon Elf Ranger

FACTION: Mountain Kingdom,

EQUIPMENT: Aira tends to carry the odd hidden weapon, whilst three slender specially designed ‘Hikari’ knives are attached to the back of her belt. Her sheathed twin short swords criss-cross each other on her back, with the handles peeking over both shoulders. Her pack contains various camping equipment basics whilst attached to the side by the means of several latches is a quiver containing arrows and a strung bow made of polished dark blue wood.

DESCRIPTION: She’s 5’10 with mid-length blonde hair usually tied back and piercing azure blue eyes with golden flecks in them with a small crescent shaped mark on her forehead which she keeps hidden beneath a small black bandana. Her elven ears are more pronounced then most leading some to wonder who she really is. Aira looks like many an elf with a slender, athletic figure and attractive features but the trials of her past have led her to hide herself behind a formidable ice blue glare that has made hot summer days suddenly seem polar by nature to many an amorous man.
Being a general solo adventurer she has modified her possessions so all can be within reach and separated when needed. She wears a v-necked dark blue top over which is a leather shirt with armour fastened onto the shoulders and upper arm; on her forearms she wears twin metal vambraces with a single symbol in the middle surrounded by four beads. Tough yet supple trousers combined with black travelling boots complete her attire.

HISTORY: Her first memories are of a warm day ending with the sky on fire, the blurry face with the radiant smile suddenly dripping moisture onto her face just as the previously gentle fingers clutch her to their chest with crushing strength. Her view suddenly goes askew as she is wrenched from that grasp and darkness envelops her vision, but she can still hear sounds of pillaging and the crackling of wood as fire envelops it, above all the din she hears a feminine voice pleading…then everything fades to black.

Her days growing up and being trained are too painful for her to repeat so she has locked them deep within herself. A first love, now lost, showed her what life was truly meant to be like, throwing away the role they had trained her for and forced her into, she broke free of the chains they had cast her in. Letting loose the beast, which they had created; back onto them she wrought hell amongst them until she awoke amongst the scattered debris of bricks and mortals…

Many travels later she came across a wounded elderly elf, helped him to his abode and saw to his wounds until he was fully recovered; this elf took her in and taught her the skills to be a Ranger. It was during this period that Aira grew to know what it was like to have a family and soon looked up to her teacher like a grandfather, the days and seasons passed as her skills and knowledge were built upon and expanded exponentially, but it was her tutoring in the mental techniques that were the most torturous by far. For although she had let herself become the beast for revenge, her teacher (and later herself) saw the possibility of her loosing herself again to that incandescent fury that only exhaustion could halt.
The time came for the Ranger trials down at the village and Aira looked forward to them with excitement as she wanted to make her teacher proud. Passing the trials, she rushed back to his hut to find him collapsed on the floor, rolling him onto his side his eyes opened and as his gaze settled on her, he passed her one half of a pendant on a leather thong.

Seeing the look of puzzlement on her face whilst gazing at him with worry evident in her eyes, he motioned her to come closer. As she bent closer to hear him he spoke for a few minutes, coughing and spluttering all the while, and then closed his eyes for the last time.

Her reason for being in that place now gone, Aira left shortly after her teacher's funeral and has yet to look back...
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Old 11-21-2008, 06:31 PM
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heckler heckler is offline
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NAME: Heckler Da’Gread
AGE: Stopped at 36
GENDER: Male
RACE: Undead
CLASS: Reaver
FACTION: Deadlands
LINEAGE: Xithan Feeder's Guild

EQUIPMENT: When girded for battle, he is known to wield his Pair of Steel Claws, and is arrayed in his Light Flowing Nightsilk Clothes and Obsidian Soul Stone. Foes are said to wither before the might of his Greater Spirit Entity.

DESCRIPTION: He is said to have short spikey hair, blue eyes and grayish skin. His athletic figure, proudly displaying his goate. He is a very sinister creature, not very friendly untill you build a steady friendship.

HISTORY: Much has been said about the past of Heckler. Noone for sure knows the true story.

Heckler was born a very long time ago. His father was the town hero. It was said that his father saved the town from a dangerous lich. But what really happened was that his father made a deal with the lich. He begged the lich to leave, so that he could become the hero of the town. The lich agreed on one condition, that the first born would become an undead at the age of 36. Barlack, Heckler’s father agreed to the deal. Heckler was only 4 when the deal took place.

Many years after the lich dissapeared, Heckler and his family became royalty to the small town. Heckler alway’s looked at his father with pride, and respect.

At the age of 18, Heckler trained for many years in the art of the assassin. He became the perfect killer. Ofcouse he used his ability’s for good, Heckler never killed a good citizen. He was only assigned to kill thieves, or bandits causing trouble near the town.

The day before Heckler’s 36th birthday, his father vanished. The mayor of the town sent Heckler the find him. Heckler found his father 3 hours after he went looking. His father was talking to a lich. Heckler watched and listened as the lich was talking. He soon realized that the lich knew he was there. Heckler burst out of his hidding place and made a volley of attacks. He was knocked away by a spell of the lich. Once Heckler hit the ground, he bashed his head on a rock, knocking him out cold.

He awoke many days after. Looking at his hands he realized he was an undead! He found the Lich testing out spells on his fathers dead corpse. The lich explained the aggrement, and told Heckler he was now a reaver.

Many centuries have passed since that day. Heckler has become a ruthless killer. He’s a sinister being who’s only goal is to kill. He still has some goodness in him, but he dosen’t show it much.


Still working on history. I have to go so I’ll finish it some other time.
*EDIT: He won’t kill people for the fun of it. Only sometimes. You could talk to him, and stuff. Didn’t want it too look like he would be the bad guy in every RP.

Last edited by heckler; 11-21-2008 at 06:46 PM.
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  #20  
Old 11-28-2008, 04:04 AM
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Wyeel Wyeel is offline
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Name:
Iridris Farandir (Ee-rid-dis Far-han-dir)
Heritage: First daughter of Lord-Duke Tasaldan Farandir one of the advisors to the Elven King of the Mountain Kingdoms.
Maturity: 27 (Elves age slower. Maturity shows the human equivalent of the age.)
Class: Elven Ranger.
Tutelage: Thundermount Watch

Equipment: Elven Longbow with poison tipped arrows, dark green forest cloak, lightly enchanted leather armour, hunting knife, healing herbs, and her family heirloom Elven Blades, Tulo-Amdir(Bringer of Hope) and Tulo-Amrun(Dawnbringer); each curved blade extends to a total length of about three feet. Iridris has of yet no conscious knowledge of the full power of her enchanted blades. The only thing worth mentioning is that they are unaturally sharp and require little or no effort to maintain.

Attributes:
Typical of all elven rangers, Iridris Farandir's skill with the elven Long Bow is matched by few outside of the mountain kingdoms. Her years of service in the Thundermount Watch outpost taught her how to survive in the wilds and also provided her with enough military training to rival a veteran soldier. Enchanted tattoos cover almost every part of her body, lending their magical strength when the need arises. These she obtained during her years of service as a Ranger. Although she favours to attack from afar, when forced into close combat she can fight almost as fiercely as the Dwarven berserkers she trained with at the Watch; but with certainly more artful movements associated with the elven bladedancers. However, this does not mean she can outlast any hardenned warrior in close combat.

Description & Background: Iridris is an Elf.. What did you expect? Pointy ears, athletic body, about 5ft 9", sharp pale blue eyes, high cheekbones, quite ordinary... etc. However, unlike most elves her hair, which she keeps tied backwards down her back, is a very pale blue colour. Almost silver. This happens to be a common trait in most females of her family line and the source of it is unknown. Iridris wears a tattoo which runs from her right eye, to her cheek and down to the jawline in the form of a vine and leaves. This marks her as a noble. Despite her apparently high lineage, she prefers to keep this part of her life quiet with her usually focused and direct manner, in contrast to her sister Lysiris who tends to be a more of a dreamer. Why she chose to serve as a ranger (instead of politics as one would have expected for someone of such noble blood) is uncertain. Though, it could be the result of her rebelious and eager nature coupled with the lack of attention given to her by her parents which caused her to opt for a more adventurous life. Rumour has it that one of her ancestors was a great adventurer and was part of the force that helped free the elves from their Outworlder captors.

As a young girl, Iridris had already taken on a task of great responsibility. She was a self appointed guardian for her younger sister Lysiris. Unlike Lysiris, Iridris has a more abrupt and serious demeanor. Being around her would give one the impression of keen alertness. These and several other reasons probably give rise to the fact that people refer her to be an austere beauty, as opposed to her sister's more innocent nature. Being the oldest in her family, she had learned the lesson of independance the hard way. As such, she always did her best to protect her sister's fragile heart.

However, as Lysiris grew older, Iridris came to realise that she could not be there for her sister forever. It may be for that understanding that Iridris chose to leave home. But, whatever the reason, the decision broke her heart as much as it did Lysiris; maybe more. Although her parents did not overtly approve of her decision, they gave her the heirloom blades as a going away gift.
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Character Profiles: Lysiris Farandir & Iridris Farandir

Last edited by Wyeel; 05-23-2009 at 05:43 AM.
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