:.:Character Profile Page 1:.:
My name? Remember it please: Varok Fenduth
I am a: Human
I have only seen the world for this many years: 17
I am often told I act like: Varok is innocent in many ways, the most of violence he has ever seen was a man being kicked out of a tavern for causing an uproar. He could be considered an infant in that in many respects he's curious about the outside world, having never left the city before. He has many fantasies of what it's like but none that are actually real.
I was trained to be a: Soldier
I carry these things on my person: Three days worth of basic food, Bedroll, Flint & Steel, Whetstone, My father's Longsword and Armor. My mother's holy symbol of Gaivan.
I have these abilities at my disposal: Special Abilities: Whirlwind Cut, Armor Pierce, Rookies Luck Class Abilities: Willpower
I shall tell you how I use my abilities, perhaps we can train you to use them: ]Whirlwind Cut: Varok spins while drawing his sword, allowing for a much faster draw speed and slicing surrounding enemies with a quick cut although it doesn't do anything against armored opponents other than leave a scratch on their armor as the move focuses on speed rather than brute force. Armor Pierce:Varok thrusts his sword with all his might with both hands, breaking through armor that he would otherwise only scratch. Rookies Luck:Varok was never taught how to use a sword beside basic swings, however he seems to always find some way to retaliate against an enemies attack. Willpower: All soldiers have the ability to persevere where others falter, allowing them to do what others may not be capable of in terms of will.
I was taught by my father about a few things: Basic metalworking, Cooking, How to start a fire, How to set traps to gather food
My life's story is somewhat short, there isn't much to tell: Varok was never really meant to be a fighter. He was born to a simple family, his father was a blacksmith and his mother took care of the house. When he was very young he helped his mother do house work until he was at an age where he could start working the forge, where he then became his fathers apprentice.
At first, Varok was scared of the fired, but his father taught him gently and he soon began to smith his own blacksmiths tools, as was the first thing that needed to be done in his apprenticeship. Varok worked the forge for days on end, perfecting the way of how to melt iron into steel and then forge the steel into wonderful shapes. His father taught him few of the families secrets when it came to smithing, saying he was not yet ready for such things. However his father one day brought him a special surprise. A pure gold bar was to be forged into a small tiara for the new baby princess and it was Varok's job to do this.
Glad to take on the challenge Varok stayed at the forge for many days, hearing little of the rumors that spread through the city of undead marching their way to the trade city of Genvis, where Varok and his family lived. He hammered away until the metal began to take shape, the constant heating and cooling and folding taking ages to do, but the delicate craftsmanship finally took the shape of the beautiful tiara that he forged himself. Varok showed his father who seemed to be distracted on the day he finished, his mother packing food into a sack. When he asked what was wrong his father turned to look at him with a grim face telling him, "Son, you must leave the city today, leave the tiara here and flee as far away as you can from here, I don't care where, just make sure not to stop until you cannot see the city any longer. I also have a gift for the magnificent work you did on the tiara. Follow me."
Confused Varok followed his father, only realizing what was going on when he was handed a sword to strap to his side and a few pieces of armor that were clasped around his legs and arms, his tunic being laced by his fathers large and clumsy hands. His mother came in and handed him the pack of food, a few days worth of food. She then handed him her symbol of Gaivan and kissing him on the forehead before looking away. Varok looked down as he listened to his father say for their final goodbye "Leave, and don't look back my boy, we will catch up by tomorrow, I promise."
Varok left the household only to hear the marching of the undead, he fled to the gates and slipped through right as they closed behind him and Varok ran and ran, already hearing the bells ringing for the militia to gather. Varok never looked back, for his father and mother's sake, he never looked back.
I feel a puppeteer pulling at my strings: KamiGearX
Call me: Lei Mei (lee may)
This is what I am: Beasty (beast person)
How long I've managed to live: 19
Like me? Hate me? I could care less: Lei Mei can be calm and patient. She's very independent and helpful. When something's in her way, she will take care of it. And trust? Serious issues.
Another thing I'm known as: Archer
Things I tend to carry with me: Bow and arrows, twin sword, flint, whip, steel, food that lasts for a week, bedroll, and first aid kit
My useful little abilities: Whip sting, Arrow's flight, Nature's creation
Let's learn about these little things: Whip sting- With enough force, the whip can knock someone out and leave them unconscious for a couple hours. Arrow's flight- The arrow can be shot to a pretty good distance, when it falls more arrows form out of it to get a more accurate hit. Nature's creation- Transformation is not that easy, it takes a deal of energy and focus. Once transformed into the animal, all of the animal's abilities apply. Poisoned Traps- Every archer learns how to set up ambush points and traps for hunting game. Even the most basic of traps are deadly when an archer lays their hands on them, changing the meaning of 'capture' to 'swift death'. Any trap laid out by an archer (Who gains the natural ability to lay out traps quickly and efficiently) is considered to be a melee combatant in terms of killing. One trap could mean the death of at least a dozen enemies depending on how elaborate the trap is. A simple bear paw trap turns into a poisonous gas cloud trigger, snapping closed and releasing toxic fumes.
How I tend to get away with things: camp sites, mapping, persuasion, healing, gathering info
My wonderful bedtime story: Lei Mei grew up in a military home. It was necessary that the kingdom had to be protected. Protecting the royal family in the castle was half of what she did. Mapping, battle combat and trading is what she mostly participated in. She knows all the passage ways of how to get in and out of the kingdom. Lei Mei goes in and out of the city. It is rare whenever she doesn't travel. She helps with the kingdoms tech from the outside world.
Who controls me: xX- Latina Shawty -xX
When I look in the mirror I see-
Who am I?- Leon
What am I?- Elf
I have successfully lived this many years- 23
This is how I behave- Leon can be pretty laid back and easy going most of the time, but he has a somewhat of a short temper, after all he is a Fire Mage. He is very confident, sometimes too much, in his abilities though he doesn't know as many spells as he'd like to as of yet. He may have a fire inside his heart, but he's definitely not the romantic type, but he hasn't really had the time to find out if he is, due to his constant training. He has great ambitions for the future, but isn't one to really share them...
I have been trained as a- Fire Mage
What I bring with me on a journey- Bedroll, 5 days worth of food (basic), Necklace (At the bottom is a metal circle with a flame carved into it to show his attunement), a metal staff with fire markings carved into it all around the outside moving up in a circle pattern around it, A hunting knife for gathering food and other general uses, and a small (palm-sized) red orb with a flame trapped inside that will go out if and when Leon dies.
Powers: Flame Hand, Flame Trap, Mini-Fireballs, Meteor Crash
A description of my powers: Flame Hand- Leon sets his hand aflame, anything he touches he brutally burns, and can even simply run his hand across the ground and create a wall of flame. Flame Trap- Leon sets down a flame trap with a spell, if stepped on it will trap the enemy/enemies for a couple seconds and set them on fire, 6' 6" x 6' 6". Mini-Fireballs- Leon shoots anywhere from 5-10 miniature fireballs (slightly larger then the average fist) at an enemy, they fly quickly and will most likely knock back an opponent a foot or two (can be sprayed to hit numerous enemies). Meteor Crash- While not truly a meteor the spell acts as if a meteor has crashed into the earth, creating a small crater and intense heat from said crater. If cast correctly the spell will engulf any enemy in flame and surrounding enemies will succumb to the intense heat, becoming fatigued and tired.
Skills: Ability to read ancient texts, very persuasive, always has will to go on, has a good sense of direction, is a talented chef, and is great at keeping people's spirits up when they're at their lowest.
My life story: Leon was always hated amongst his peers, for he was always behind when learning the art of magic. People knew he had the fire inside him, but Leon didn't know how to bring it out. One day a kid in his home village spoke in the nastiest way about Leon's mother, and that tore it. In that moment of anger his Fire abilities finally clicked. He began to shoot dozens of fireballs at the other child and wouldn't cease until the other child had third degree burns. While his parents weren't happy with how he did find out about his powers, they were happy he had. But Leon didn't know how to control his powers... They would only be unleashed through anger. Finally, the time came when his parents had severely angered Leon, and in his anger he accidentally burned down his small house with his parents inside, killing them both. He then swore to never use his powers again, it was a tough task, but for a while he managed. Until that is, Dal'Vuun rose up and began to terrorize his village, and Leon too would have to rise up, to take on this evil force, and try to save the Elven people from his tyranny.
The mastermind behind me: yonomono17
I am known as: Otah Dai-Kvo
I was born as an: Elf
Summers I have seen: 20
To those who see me for who I am: Similarly to his Elven countryman, Otah has always observed the affairs of other races with only a distant curiosity. When the plague began spreading, he stood by and watched as kingdom after kingdom fell to its overwhelming force. In his mind, the blame was that of humans. For it were they who were responsible for starting it. Otah slowly developed a slight distaste for the human race which only grew stronger after his own kingdom was overthrown. He's the quiet type who won't speak his mind unless prodded to do so, but internally he is constantly observing and constantly thinking. Strong-willed and self-confident, Otah has learned to rely on himself if wishes to live.
I have been gifted in the class of: Cleric
My only possessions left in this world: Ceremonial prayer fans of Gaivan (as seen in portrait) used to empower healing magic, bedroll, needle and thread, one loaf of bread.
I am capable of: Prayer of Empowerment, Corpse Siphon, Sacrificial Healing, Cleansing Aura
What my powers mean: Prayer of Empowerment: While Otah by himself is not much of a threat in a fight, he can, however, enhance the abilities of an ally by praying to Gaivan for assistance. Corpse Siphon: By touching the corpse of a dead being, Otah can tap into the last bits of life left there, sustaining himself for a time. Sacrificial Healing: If a wound is too severe for Otah's basic healing magic, he can transfer some, or possibly all, of the damage into his own body. This ability is potentially fatal for Otah and is rarely, if ever, used at all. Cleansing Aura: Clerics are taught that Gaivan, the holy mistress, watches over all of her subjects thoughtfully and with grace. She watches over a special few that she has 'chosen' to join her when they reach the afterlife are given a minor form of her holy aura. Any evil that wishes to approach the cleric who possess such an ability must first resist the temptation of fleeing from the holy sight of the cleric. This is the only way to divine if someone has good or ill intentions.
My uselfeness: Needleworking, Medicine.
How I came to be where I am today: Otah Dai-Kvo was raised in a monastery in the Elven forests. He was designated to become a cleric before he was even born. His parents, nobles of the Elven hierarchy whom Otah never knew nor cared for, offered him up as tribute to the gods. While there he was taught about the history of the gods, philosophy, and the healing arts. As Otah grew older though, he began to notice how different he was from the other children his age. He would often observe them playing and singing and doing whatever it is children do at that age. He was always on the outside and deliberately so. This continued his whole life until he was released from the monastery when he reached adulthood. Soon after, the plague spread to his kingdom, forcing him to flee and once again watch from the outside at the chaos.
My true voice: Bon Iver II
My name is from our forgotten language: Dvunth Fasfuk
Just like my ancestors of the stone, I am the same: Dwarf
The stones have called to me for this many years: 38
I am like the stone in an inferno, but to be specific people say I act: Just like a barbarian should, Dvunth is ruthless when attacking and quick to anger, only more so when drunk (Which he is often). One to hold his pride Dvunth will never back down from a challenge, even if that means fighting superiors or even the crown itself, earning him the title of 'Dvunth, The Head Smasher'.
I have been taught to fight like the rest of my family: Barbarian
I am lightly equipped, for my swings are only that much more powerful: Bedroll, fur armor to protect against the cold, skulls of hunted prey strapped to his belt, Twin fanged axes, five throwing axes, a greatsword, three days worth of food, a carving knife made of mithril, A waterskin full of mead (enchanted to never run out of mead), and finally a fishing net made of razor wire.
I was taught my fighting abilities from my ancestors: Wild Swings, Blood of the Hunt, Savage Throw, Berserking
I am told that the explanation of abilities is key to getting along... So be it: Wild Swings: Dvunth flourishes his axes wildly about himself, harming not only himself but anyone nearby, including allies. If berserking Dvunth goes into a dancing flurry of blades, melding all of his weapons into his technique, sheathing and unsheathing weapons with deadly efficiency. Blood of the Hunt: Dvunth targets a specific enemy, when life force of any kind is drawn from that enemy, Dvunth is reinvigorated, allowing him to keep moving forward even if severely wounded. If berserking, Dvunth must attack the targeted enemy until blood is drawn, and upon drawing blood he may then target a new hostile. Savage Throw: Dvunth was taught that all weapons, no matter how heavy, could be tossed at an enemy with deadly efficiency if gripped correctly and the weapon has enough momentum. Dvunth may toss any weapon in his arsenal if it is in his hands at an enemy if they are more than three feet away. if berserking, Dvunth instead uses his throwing axes and tosses them about in a flurry of axes, if they hit an enemy, they bounce to the next target until they run out of momentum, if they hit an ally it does the same thing. Berserking: All barbarians are taught to give into their rage in battle. Once a barbarian is harmed in combat they may go into a bloodthirsty rage, ignoring damage for a short period of time, though once they are done raging, the pain flows through their body all at once, so many minor cuts can incapacitate a barbarian due to the shock.
I was taught few skills, only those needed to live in the mountains were needed: Mountain Traveling, Cooking, and basic metallurgy
My lifes story is like a flat stone, uninteresting and boorish, but I will share since you are so interested: Dvunth was born into a low class military family composed of mostly soldiers and conscripts. None were known to achieve great victories or defeats for the families name. That is until Dvunth was taken into basic military training. Dvunth was said to be born with two axes in hand, and cut his fathers forefinger off when he came out of the womb. The point was only driven home the more he was taught at the military academy. Dvunth soon passed his superior officers in terms of strength and brawn, as well as battle skill. Outraged, Dvunth was put into the pit to fight his way out of punishment against ten fully armed soldiers. When the dust settled, Dvunth remained standing, bloodied and carrying the heads of one of the soldiers in his hands.
Dvunth was quickly put into prison due to his supposedly physcotic nature. However word of his achievment in the pit quickly spread and soon he was released into the custody of the barbarians who saw his true talent. Dvunth was once more put through training, this one much more brutal than his previous. He was forced to fight the barbarians everyday with no further instructions other than to try and kill them. Every day he failed, the more his rage grew when suddenly it clicked on. He beat down his instructor with one arm, taking his instructors head as well as another trophy to strap to his belt. Unphased the other barbarians congratulated him on passing and gave him an enchanted water skin to signify his new position. He was also given ceremonial furs. The next day he was given proper equipment of his choosing. He ignored the armor and quickly moved to the weapons rack taking almost all of the weapons for himself and strapping them to his body. He even paid money for the extra equipment and with it he became an official barbarian ready to serve the kingdom.
The next day Dvunth was told to go on patrol in the ancient tombs with a squad of soldiers. Dvunth agreed and led the patrol down to dark tombs, the city gates closing behind them. Dvunth knew the reason. The dwarves were fighting Dal'Vuun's plague everyday in their old tombs. It was a suicide mission of pride to stave back the hordes of undead. Twenty years passed by and no one had heard from the patrol when suddenly, like a miracle, Dvunth was seen walking back towards the gates, three soldiers following behind him, all of them were dragging a pile of dead bodies with them. Dvunth's belt held five more trophies, the skulls alien and foreign. Dvunth was hailed a hero and given the most respect, however Dvunth refused all the gifts and only muttered silently. 'Praise the warriors who fell in battle, they are the true heroes of these last twenty years.' Out of the fifty soldiers he had led, Dvunth had lost forty-seven to undead horde.
The next year was peaceful for Dvunth, he trained potential barbarians. All under his care passed with flying colors and lead similar expeditions down into the dark caverns, however they all returned dying. After the last patrol went out Dvunth was once more called to the banner, this time he would lead his own students into battle. Dvunth lead with a battle horn out of the gate, his warriors painted with red and blue charcoal, the rest of the city looking at them all as they left. Dal'Vuun's plague was close to their homeland, only a days march, and the barbarians were the final stand for this dwarven city. Dvunth met the unmistakable horde only three hours after marching, his small force of one hundred barbarians facing a horde of over half a million undead servants, and more pouring in as the two sides stared at each other. Dvunth and the enemy general signaled the attack at the same time, and both sides charged. A week of grueling battle was fought, enough time for the dwarven city to be evacuated to a nearby sister city. Dvunth slaughtered every last undead thing in front of him. He was the only one left standing in both armies.
No longer having a home to fight for, Dvunth continued to march by himself. His eyes were aimed not towards the burial chambers, but towards the surface, where rumors of the surface facing the same plague. Dvunth would offer his assistance to those who needed it. this is his final mission as the last barbarian of the city of Gav'ur.
The ancestor I revere is: Kami GearX
Severina Mae
Basic Information
⇛ Username: RastkoB
⇛ Race: Human
⇛ Age: 25
⇛ Personality: Severina is tough for a women. Hardened by violence and bloodshed. Although it leaves her at a crossroads, who is she really? The warrior in the field or the women who enjoys festivals and parties, dressing up and enjoying the company of others. This question, along with others have consumed her mind but she does not allow herself to wander there for too long. Aside from this she is caring and forceful, often pushing and moving people in better positions in times of combat. Wrestling and giving them a hard time when out, taking some joy in poking fun at others. It is rarely hateful or filled with ill will. Within her personality however lives a monster, fear. It drives to the ends of the earth at least when it comes to her survival. She does not wish to see the end of her own life and will fight with a zealous fervor only found in Templars, matched by the drunken barbarians of the Dwarves.
⇛ Bio: With each new life in the world one fades. This was the case with her mother. Shortly after she was born her mothered died, unable to recover from the harshness of child birth. Perhaps if she had chosen to accept the aid of magic then she would be here or so her father tells her day in day out at least for the first years of her life. Childhood? What childhood, she never had one not like typical children or girls. The man she called father was captain of the guard of the city in which she was born. He taught her to fight from the time she could stand and talk, making her the son she never had to take his position. Although much like his wife Severina was too strip from him.
Why? Taken by the Templar order, a small force which does not bow down to the laws of kings and men. This occurred around her fourteenth year of life. After she explain to those around her of what she dreamed most nights. Images of Gaivan and her final moments often remained within her mind. She remembered them vividly. It was not long before the Templars showed up to confirm this and embraced her into their order. There her training continued and for the past five years she has been on a crusade. Hunting down those who worship Dal'Vuun the slain god. A new calling came to her in a dream and forced her hand one in which she will be forced to fight an undead army. To protect those who can not protect themselves. It will be a long bloody path but one she will follow until her very life is taken from her hands.
Class Information
⇛ Class: Templar
⇛ Equipment: Mace, Shield, Half-Plate Armor, Backpack( bedroll, 4 days rations, waterskin, flint/steel, 2 sets of clothing, cleaning kit, small repair kit, blanket), Pouch ( coins, 1 small charm), Sack ( herbs and some spices), Hunting Knife, Sickle.
⇛ Skills: Sewing, Gathering, Simple Cooking, Basic armor and weapon repair, Reading, Writing, Map reading, Knowledge (Law, Religion)
Powers
⇛ Righteous Fury:
After muttering a few sacred words her weapon takes on a soft glow. Illuminating the area around her, it provides about ten feet of vision in complete darkness. This boon lasts as long as she holds the haft of her mace or the grip of her shield. Each successful strike against a foe silences them for a few minutes, cancelling any magical spells they may wish to cast. Severina may cast this up to thirteen times a day.
⇛ Foehammer:
Activated with a single thought, the head of her mace begins to crackle with holy energy, that travels through her target upon a successful attack. It amplifies her strength, allowing her to sunder armor and bone alike with a single strike. This two has its draw backs, it last but for a single attack and if it misses time must pass before the ability can be used once more.
⇛ Sanctuary:
Sliding into a defensive posture, her shield begins to give off a bright light. It quickly forms into a bubble of energy. This bubble offers protection from projectiles and will negate the next two attacks against her self and those around her. If the shield is not broken it can be shattered to release a wave of energy before her.
⇛ Purge:
The most damning of her abilities. Any magic with a ten foot radius (the center being her choosing) is consume in a violent act, anything within that radius is subject to harm either by means of incarceration or through the sheer force of the explosion. Allies, enemies, neutrals and even herself can be caught in the power. it comes at an even higher risk to her. It could strip her of her very life if used sparingly. Other can pleague themselves to this power and aid in its conjuration, this negates most of the risk to her self but becomes rather draining on the group if used quite often and it might take the life of one.
What do you want?:
Call me: Roskar
Can't you tell: Orc
Winters past: 24
The true me: Much like the alpine forests his clan lived in Roskar is strong and usually quiet but can become a roaring killer when provoked. Having met few other races Roskar has little understanding of polite society even by orc standards and doesn't care about it. Position means nothing to him if you can't prove you deserve it and above all he believes in the natural order of predator and prey. Being almost seven feet in size he considered himself a clear warrior and consequently needs to perform the part and accept any challenge though he will step down if he feels its unnecessary, pointless or beneath him.
My strength shows as: Shaman
Never unprepared: Rough fur armor decorated with bone horn and feathers, a heavy iron pick nearly his own height, a sturdy skinning knife, a length of strong rope, a collection of small carved totems, a metal jaw trap on a chain, a thick fur blanket.
Watch me cause destruction: Totem of Wood, Totem of Stone, Totem of Smoke, Cry of the Spirits
Want to know my secrets?: Totem of Wood: The shaman shapes a dead tree into the form of a stag to attack his foes. The stag is capable of healing wounds by speeding natural growth. Totem of Stone: The shaman shapes a pillar of stone into the form of a bear to attack his foes. The bear is capable of shielding against harm with spurs of rock. Totem of Smoke: The shaman shapes a cloud of smoke into the form of an owl to attack his foes. The owl is capable of blinding foes with bursts of heat. Cry of the Spirits: A shaman learns how to harness the abilities of nature into a shout, making the spirits around him rush towards his body to help invigorate not only himself, but his allies so they may fight for longer. Depending on the spirit that first enters the shaman, a secondary effect will happen. A wind spirit will create a burst of wind that bellows forth from the shaman's mouth, knocking over opponents that stand in his way. A water spirit creates a small mudslide around the shaman, making the terrain difficult to pass through. Fire sends out a scorching flame from the shaman's feet, pulsating and scorching the earth in flame. If an earth spirit enters the shaman, a shockwave is sent through the earths surface, causing it to crack and swallow up the shaman's foes. All of these effects depend on the strength of the spirit that enters the shaman's body, and depending on where the shaman is located, different spirits may move through the shaman.
Years of practice: Carving, skinning, hunting, stitching, climbing, communing with spirits and beasts.
My fireside tale: The Jaws of Winter tribe used to be the only thing strong enough to live in the thick norther forests and mountains protected by the climate and terrain from any threats. Unfortunately their reclusion left them without allies when the undead matched through the drifts and began driving them back. Since he was a young child Roskar was on the move with the tribe retreating back into the mountain valleys. Roskar spent his young life eagerly learning how to defend himself well aware what was hunting them and could descend at any time. In the tribes final stand he was struck on the back of his head early and left for dead in the snow as the undead marched on. When he awoke half frozen to death and surrounded by the remains of the tribe Roskar gave up and remained on the floor as the snow kept falling. At dawn he felt the snow brushed from him and his body dragged into a cavern, slowly waking he looked up at walls painted with totems and spirits. The caves had long been used by the tribe as holy sites and he'd visited them often as he grew up to learn about the entities that protected the tribe. Turning his attention to the bear that saved him he watched as it left its body vanishing in the wind as it stepped out of the cave.
For another eight years Roskar remained in the caves learning how the spirits worked and what they could do and more importantly how he could speak to them. When he felt he was ready he left wanting to discover the reason a higher intelligence would want him to live, he owed it his life so the least he could do was follow its guidance.
The great spirit: Damnationsedge
Hello! My name is: Extina Lorreana Sky.
I have many nicknames, but you may call me by: Tina.
I belong to: a rare clan in the Elf Kingdom. I am from the Sky Clan. My clan and I just live a little longer than normal elves.
I'm at the age of: 42 in my clan, but I look 21 in human years
People I meet say I am: Very serious for an elf and I have a huge appetite for knowledge. I am very curious on the lives of short lived races including my own. I take a reserve policy when I first meet people, but as I get to know people, I warm up and become very friendly for an elf. When I'm with people I know, I am down to earth, kind, funny, loyal, and caring. I like to experience other people cultures and some say I am hard to approach since I give off an icy vibe.
My occupation is an: Archer.
What I carry around is: Custom Bow, 30 Custom Arrows, 1 Quiver, 1 Short Sword, 1 Bedroll, 1 Sewing Kit, Spare Arrow Parts, 3 Days of Food, 3 Days of Water, Spare Clothing, Head Ornament, Healing Herbs, 1 Grinder, 1 Flint, 1 Traveling Cloak, 1 Whetstone, 1 Small Pouch that contains several coins.
Powers I have develop: "Lucky Strike", "Herbalist", "Multiple Strike", "Poisoned Traps"
Easiest way to describe my powers are:
-"Lucky Strike"- It may either be my arrows or my short sword that hits a vital point on the body and causing extra internal damage . Its harder to hit on an armored opponent, but once I get a "Lucky Strike", they will bleed profusely internally or externally.
-"Herbalist"- I have traveled far and wide learning all about natural herbs. I am able to gather all types of herbs due to my experiences and will be able to find any herb in any location that offers it. I can use it to heal, poison, paralysis, or sleep others. I can also apply it to my arrows.
-"Multiple Strike"- After years of practice, I can double the speed and the amount of strikes on an opponent. It is mostly used in close range to medium range as the accuracy and potential damage falls the further away the opponent is.
-"Poisoned Traps"- Every archer learns how to set up ambush points and traps for hunting game. Even the most basic of traps are deadly when an archer lays their hands on them, changing the meaning of 'capture' to 'swift death'. Any trap laid out by an archer (Who gains the natural ability to lay out traps quickly and efficiently) is considered to be a melee combatant in terms of killing. One trap could mean the death of at least a dozen enemies depending on how elaborate the trap is. A simple bear paw trap turns into a poisonous gas cloud trigger, snapping closed and releasing toxic fumes.
What I am good at: Finding herbs, Quick comprehension, Hands on building, Tracking, Tinkering complex objects, First aid, Good reflexes, Hunting, and Bartering.
A little about myself: I was born into a rare clan within Elf Kingdoms. This clan are able to live twice as long as anyone else and for this reason, my clan kin are given very prestigious positions as scholars or teachers. A few of my kinsmen travel around learning as much as possible outside the borders and return home to teach the next generation of the lives of the other races. I was given the honor of traveling outside the borders and living with the humans. Before I left, my family gave me a head ornament that supposedly marks us differently from normal elves and supposedly helps find other clansmen, but it has never worked for me. A heirloom passed on throughout generations and it is very precious to me. Such interesting lives the humans create for themselves. I went and was taught at a very rich academy that revolutionized in liberal ideas and ahead of the times theories. I stayed there for several years before I returned home satisfied with the humans way of life and quickly left again, but this time I traveled through the wilderness learning to survive alone. I loved the wild and the freedom that it brought, but I quickly soon heard rumors of kingdoms falling and rushed back home. The closer I got home, the more rumors appeared and the more gruesome they got. I stayed to the back roads as refugees gathered on the main roads. I was horrified that the place my clan lived at was in ruins when I got back home. It appeared that most of my family scattered before raiders came, but I do not know where they are at and I travel around to find them or find any information on them.
Username: Victoria San
My name? Remember it please: Grevil Reeves
I am a: Beast Man
I have only seen the world for this many years: 23
I am often told I act like: Grevil is laid back and seemingly carefree as he faces everything with a calm demeanor but to be honest he is incapable of showing certain emotions like fear, he never knew how and quite frankly doesn't care enough to. To others he doesn't trust he's cold and heartless due to being overly cautious and wouldn't hesitate for a second to kick your a** or worse, kill you given the right reason. The aura he carries around himself spells of trouble but despite it all he will help those he could. Grevil is intelligent, tactical and naturally curious about the world, he always fed his curiosity no matter how cruel the path it lead him down was. He's precise, and to the point as he hate to beat around the bush and hates when people try to insult his intelligence even more. He has control for the most part in terms of his bad attitude problem. He lacks restraint and doesn't see anything wrong with how he acts towards others, he's blunt, stern, and will enforce his 'law'.
I was trained to be a: Battlemage
I carry these things on my person: Sling Pack, Two leather cantines of water, four days worth of rations, a Flint, Whetstone, Traveling Cloak, Bedroll(connected to the pack), Change of clothing, Pouch that holds and separates his healing herbs and saps, spices, another pouch for what coin he does has and come by. Bandage wraps, armor/weapon repair and cleaning kit. A unique sword that was enchanted and given to him by his mother, Smoke Grey and Green mix of durable leather and armor that had been crafted by his father to help withstand the cold and protect him from blades(In pic). Four blades that combine to make a great sword. .
I have these abilities at my disposal: Special Abilities: Pulse, Static Murder, Accel, Infinite Sword.
I shall tell you how I use my abilities, perhaps we can train you to use them: Pulse: Grevil's magic focus more on Kinetic energy/Wind and augmentations , thus he has perfected the use of pulse. Pulse is an ability that uses said kinetic energy to manipulates the atoms of the wind which allows him to use a form of telekinesis, using an almost invisible force of wind, not only is he able to move object with a thought alone but able to use in the form of concussive force/blast. Accel: Is an ability that allows Grevil to break normal limitation and move at a rate of acceleration and maximum speed in excess to that of normal optimal beast men/women capacity. Though simple at first glance this technique is highly dangerous and isn't very easy to control, taking Grevil an entire year to control its power enough not to bring harm to himself and a half of year after that to bring it under his full control. Grevil manipulate and channels the wind within his area around his legs, it starts off weak but the force of this wind continue to grow well into concentrated gale force winds, when reaching such winds and keeping it confined just around his legs is where it held the most difficulty for him before. These winds without his help or manipulation creates both intense static and kinetic energy which is then absorbed into his legs via his muscles so not only would he now have vicious winds rotating around his legs but his leg power is increased many times over by said energy constantly regulating through his legs in a rotational manner. This is turn opens up many possibilities for him to use it for such as simply kicking through the air to send gale force winds at his opponent, increasing his leaping capabilities and ultimately increasing his speed. Static Murder: Seeing as how high speed wind friction creates static electricity, Grevil has studied this knowing that it would someday come a time when he can use it to his advantage and in turn learned to manipulate it. This as a result allows him to manipulate electricity to the point where he could lessen the chances he is harmed severely by it by allowing it to enter, and exit his body by redirecting it. Though this by nomeans mean that he can generate it without the wind or is unharmed by it, thus there is only so much he can manage. Infinite Sword: For him to make use of his Infinite-One Sword style to its full effect Grevil would have to make use of his mothers enchanted sword. He would have to concentrate on his magical energy, building said energy wouldn't take entirely to long but his concentration once starting the incantation has to be unfaltering. Once the incantation have been completed, an illusionary fire that doesn't emit any heat spreads out to form a boundary and wall for the bounded field. The bright light fills the vision of those present, and manifests an open, barren desert with monolithic black gears gyrating in the distance of the sky. It is a kingdom of rubble littered with countless swords anchored in the ground like grave markers in a wasteyard. It contains all of the raw materials and sorcery needed for the formation of the weapons, and it records and analyzes all weapons and defensive armaments encountered for future use.
I was taught by my father about a few things: Metal/Mechanical working(Such as tending to his armor and weapons and skilled enough to create the four blades he use), Cooking, Hunting(That means skinning, preping the hunt to be cook, tracking...etc), Controlling his wolf within, highly trained senses, Survival Skill, Acrobatics, Basic first aid, Languages(He understand a few languages from reading other races history but the language of the elves is one he can fluently speak.)
My life's story is somewhat short, there isn't much to tell: Grevil was thought to be a miracle child as it was believed that his mother could not bare children for she and his father had been trying for many years up until he was born. His mother was an elite battlemage who was the creator of the Infinite Sword technique and a member of the Queens three protectors while his father was a prestige royal guard of the kingdom so his future was almost set in stone as his father wished for his son to follow in his foot step in protecting the kingdom and more importantly the royals yet his mother only wished her son to grow up strong and follow his passion. His training started when he was seven years of age, the beast within him was strong and wild so when ever he would get anger the beast would attempt to take over. Grevil was put through hard labor with chores, he had to study every day and expand his knowledge with each passing day. Years of this strenuous training both mentally and physically he turned out to be a prodigy, at the age of 17 he was amongst the villages top hunters, a fierce battlemage and very intelligent. He had took an interest to the technology they learned from studying the history of other races, when he was eighteen and it came time for him to take his place in the military force but he wished to learn more about the technologies in the outside world and thus decided to travel. He was told that he wouldn't be able to return to his home Kingdom as the law stated but he wanted to travel to expand his knowledge and experience new things and so having proved he had enough control over the beast within he left on his journey with his mothers blessings and his father stubborn about it but ultimately he gave Grevil his blessing and off he went.
About two years passed since he had left his home, despite them saying he could not return he planned to go back anyways once he felt he learned enough but before he did he had more learn. It wasn't long after those two years that Dal'vuun was resurrected with legions of undead creatures, immediately becoming worried for his home he decided to cut his journey short and made his way back home. Over the course of making his way back home Grevil encounter many of this undead army and fought his way through every obstacle that presented itself, once he had reached his home he found it covered with the undead but there was obviously a large scale battle there. Grevil would sneak his way into the kingdom to confirm if his people had all been killed or if some of them escaped and if that was the case he had hoped his mother, father, and the royal family was among them. Searching the kingdom in stealth he found nothing that lead him to believe any of them were dead and only hoped they found refuge somewhere, on his way out he gathered a few things for his search of them but in doing so he was discovered and had to fight his way out of his own kingdom, Grevil was determine to find those that may had survived yet he was obsessed with killing all the undead and Dal'vuun himself when he get the chance.
I feel a puppeteer pulling at my strings: Celestin Selone
Character Name: Kage-maru no Fukai Mori (Kage for short)
Race: Human
Age: 24
Personality: Distant, Determined, Cautious
Class: Thief / Assassin
Equipment: Tatsumasa, his wakizashi (type of short sword), a mortar and pestle, vials, secateurs, finger-flints (small stones wrapped around the fingers to create a spark when snapped), a flask of water, and a supply of small shark-tooth daggers (throwing knives).
Powers: Teleportation (when he has an abundance of energy), Silver Tongue, Assassination, and Speed burst.
Power Description: His teleportation is instantaneous but cannot be used in rapid succession or very frequently, as this will result in a sharp decrease in his energy. His Speed Burst technique amplifies his speed and agility for one minute by allowing his muscles to overstrain themselves. This is used for quick escapes, but cannot be used very often, or it will result in his muscles being destroyed.
His Silver Tongue ability allows him to coerce people into liking him and cutting better deals with him in the market. It also helps him to gather information with little suspicion, or to gain a more favourable side with someone, especially someone of the opposite gender.
His Assassination ability allows him to kill an opponent stealthily and instantly only as long as he does not raise suspicion with any of the members of the group he is targeting. If successful, he can then immediately teleport behind his next foe and kill him as well. After two people, he must then either fight normally or hide once again.
Skills: Well-versed in Jui-jitsu and sword fighting, and is very stealthy.
Bio: Kage-maru is a reserved man, trained in the way of the ninja by a remote group of Thieves, so he considers them family. He did not like the idea of taking from others, but did it as a necessity to survive. After he had reached the age of 18, he had left to live alone in the forest on the outskirts of the main town. This is when he had come across an ancient sword, Tatsumasa, which was fabled to be made from a dragon's fang. He lived off the land and trained daily, until strange, vile creatures had begun to emerge and plague the forest. Wishing to discover their origin, and putting an end to the evil he sensed building, he set off from his makeshift home in the forest on a mission.
Username: Planeswalker Kraj
Character Name: Grace Wood
Race: Human
Age: 24
Personality: Cunning, Kind at times, Observant, Distant, Cautious, Curious
Class: Thief
Equipment: Sword, Bow, Arrows, 2 Daggers, Cloak, Hunting Knife, Waterskin, Dried food (enough for 3 days)
Powers:Cheap Shot, Mutilate, Stun Lock, Shadow Blades
Power Description: Cheap Shot - Every thief plays dirty, Grace has a way of distacting her opponent and then either tripping their feetfrom under them or punching their abdomen to gain the upper hand, Mutilate - Grace uses this finishing move to decapitate her opponent with both daggers, Stun Lock - When in a tight spot, aim for their neck with the hilt of your weapon for a good stun! Shadow Blades - Grace's daggers become a blur right in front of you when she spins them round and round slashing your body accordingly.
Skills: Stealth, Camouflage, Agility, Flexibility
Bio: Grace Wood wasnt always a thief. She was going to become a Soldier but was betrayed by a man she trusted the most, her mentor Gale Sherman. He had framed her for the murder of a noble which immediately had her sentenced to death. Fortunately, from her training, she was able to escape the knights and other soldiers who were after her. It wasnt until a mysterious assassin approached her and told her he had orders to kill her but could see a certain potential in her. He somehow knew that Grace was framed and taught her the ways of thieves. With anger in her heart, Grace learned quickly and soon had her revenge on Gale, took his sword, and willingly took up the name of a professional thief.
Username: sakura-schan
