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3,300 | 72 | 109 | 119 | 740 | As Kidd listened to the spider-human mutant with a pair of weary eyes while pointing the wrench towards him, his trembling arm flinched at the mention of a mother spider wanting him dead and how his new comrades are in evident danger. A long pause of silence from the Furlyne while Patches went back to the comms to relay another important advice to the exploration team. Could he trust such a suspicious looking being? But he seemed to be supporting the team with his useful information about their target... The arm with the wrench lowers itself as the boy spoke, keeping a careful eye on him.
"Alright. Fine. Since you're generously helpin' us and all, I guess I can trust ya. A little bit. But what I don't get is, what's in it for you? Why are ya helpin' us out?" | Name (& pronunciation): Kidd (KI-D) (Previously classified only as Prisoner #0715, new proper name given by mentor)
Date of Birth (& age): June 10, 42 years old (21 in human time measurement)
Place of Birth: Home planet of the Furlynes
Gender: Male
Species: Furlynes
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 52 kg
Personality:
The "straight man" of the group, which is not to be taken literally, specifically pertaining to the person who retorts to a dumb remark made by another. Due to being a Furlynes, he is usually reluctant towards beings of the other races, with the exemption of the former head technician of the military base he worked at, thus his retort against them are blunt if not sarcastic. While being such a character, he can be quite mischievous when time for being serious isn't called for, a trait he kept from his past on his home planet. "Geek" doesn't exactly suit his character but the Furlynes is pretty cunning and clever, in the long past used as his tools for his thievery, now put to good use on the ship as an assistant technician/mechanic which he now takes pride in. But the geek part is somewhat evident when he scolds crew members for destroying components of the ship, vital or not.
Likes: Aroma of freshly brewed coffee Warm mug of milk Taking naps in calm, serene environment Challenging mechanical repairs Feeling of newly polished tools
Dislikes: Being compared to a mere Earth cat Noise/Intrusion interrupting his work Crew members that frequently destroy the ship Busted mechanical equipment he cannot fix with his current skills and knowledge People bad mouthing towards his late mentor
Ambitions:
To be able to achieve further in the mechanical and technical field, even more than his mentor, the former technician of the ship.
To advance the features of the current ship that even his mentor would be proud of.
Strengths: Swift movement speed due to his light weight Mechanical and technical literacy
Weaknesses: Heavy physical activities that can be strenuous to the body, since he has a fairly thin build Feeling helpless after admitting he cannot repair specific damaged machinery
Fears: Being captured and put into custody Losing his memento of his mentor, a rusty old wrench
Interests: Machinery and technology Space aircrafts and their composition
History:
Being born to a pair of Furlyne parents who were in an unfortunate situation financially, the infant was abandoned on the streets only to be sheltered by various shop keepers of the public market, where he had been left by his parents. The Furlyne boy grew up with different names from each of the caretakers, none to his liking so he stuck with neither. He was a mischievous type of child, causing little troubles here and there, stealing small things that got him nothing but more trouble even with his fast feet. Seeing that this would not work for him in the future, he sought out a way to not be caught. And there it was, the infamous bunch of thieves of the town.
Since he was not welcome in the shop keepers' households anymore due to his bad habit of stealing, he moved into the thieves' hideout at the outskirts of town. But these were not common thieves, they had the skills and smarts―or rephrased as sneakiness- of an above average thief. This was where the Furlyne teen learned to quickly move with actual tactic instead of raw movement and how to handle a dagger or knife, but not on actual live beings. All of the thieves' brotherhood days ended for him when one day, he was framed for killing someone when in fact, he was too afraid of thrusting the dagger into someone fatally. The bloodied dagger was grasped in his hand as he was caught, left behind by his 'brothers'.
After a few to couple of years being locked up behind bars, he was given a number of choices for jobs to choose from, all of which were military related and he was to be heavily under surveillance. It was by chance that he took up the job of apprentice technician and met his mentor, the head technician of the base. He was skeptical at the middle aged human male, mostly because he hasn't exactly experienced co-existing with beings of the other races and was he even capable of subduing him, an experienced thief? The man didn't seem to be wary of him as an ex-convict nor a being of another species, what he cared about was the boy being able to get his job done but there was a problem. He had NO idea whatsoever about these so-called 'machinery'. He was a boy literally living on the streets, there was no way he could have learned anything of the sort unless he saw one in front of him.
It took quite a long while before all the basic knowledge about machinery and technology were crammed into his brain, the Furlyne grew fond of him over the passed time, being given a proper name he actually appreciated (since the mentor couldn't call him kid all the time which was ironic to his given name), a sense of actual trust from the human, and all the machinery they were able to build and repair together. But alas, the mentor's age eventually caught up to him and led him to rest in a natural cause. Kidd, the male Furlyne, vowed to keep his teachings alive by continuing his work as a technician with his head held high.
Currently, now that everything has gone to hell on Earth, where the military he was serving was located at, Kidd was accused as a spy now that the military has been corrupted. Escape was futile as he was captured and now on his way to a death row.
Romance: Yes?
Sexual preference: No specific preference, but slightly hesitant to involve himself with other races in such a way.
Role on the ship: Technician/Mechanic
Combat Skills:
Quite a skill in daggers and knives due to the experience as a thief, movement speed to be feared of, and his quick, cunning―sneaky to be precise-, tricks, which includes pick pocketing. |
3,301 | 72 | 110 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Patches
Patches smiled a friendly smile and took on a harmless tone of sarcasm.
"Well you see laddy. When you're a village boy in the big scary city, you tend to look for help when the big baddie comes around. Come running to mommy and daddy if you will
Now I just want to hang out with you folks. Sound good?"
Anastasia-The Finish
Anastasia wanted some of the action as well. The acid was starting to debilitate her and she wanted to help. She ran forward to the head of the beast. Grabbing one in each hand, she tugged on the mandibles as hard as she could. The snapping of exoskeleton rung through everyone's ears, as the mandibles tore off completely. She observed them for a second, enjoying the glistening shell. The spider spazzed around, its remaining legs kicking out and tryinf to lash someone. It let out one least throe of screams, before its legs curled up and it finally died.
"Haha, ahhh shit." Ana collapsed on her butt, the pain of the acid finally taking effect. She ripped of the torso of her suit, observing the acid. While slowed, it was still eating through, twisting into her stomach oh so slowly. She brought up her radio, communicating to the ship.
"Hello? Catboy? We need a pick up. Bring the ship into the main section of the city if you will. Ana turned off her comms and tried to stand up, falling back down. "Hey. Can someone help me up and assist me before the ship gets here?" | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,302 | 72 | 111 | 1,048 | 840 | Alastair
It was a brutal victory made even more brutal when Ana wanted more action and went in for the mandibles, tearing them off completely. Considering she was hit pretty bad with the creatures acid, her feat was incredible, showing off the Russian's iron will. Humans are always quite the surprise. After spazzing about and letting out a last scream, it finally died. He had to say, it endured quite a lot of pain. It had at least something to be proud of as it left for the after life.
After the impressive spurt of willpower, Ana collapsed on her ass as the acid began taking a toll. Laughing it off she called in for the ship before asking for him. Alastair have seen scenes like these quite often in human comics and animes, where right after a hard fought battle the hero helps up the heroine, most often than not carrying her in some form. There was also many other different kinds of scenarios, humans are quite interesting indeed. As a butler he needed to be a gentlemen and serve the crew, this is just one of the duties.
Nodding to himself, he decided upon his course of action. Cutting off Jericho her reached down and picked up Ana. Given the look of her and the others, he wondered what was going on. They had that look he's often seen where a character has done something strange. Had he done something strange? Couldn't be, he was sure he did things correctly. Then again... As he stood there reviewing the situation, he stood there with Ana slung over his shoulder with her head to his back and her ass facing forward, in full view. Ana didn't seem to pleased. | Name: Alastair (Al-la-ster)
Date of Birth: August? 5th?
Place of Birth: Black Hole, Duh.
Gender: ???
Species: Unnamed
Height: 6'0
Weight: How much do you think a mass of black energy would weight?
Personality:
His personality changes depending what 'character' he wishes to portray, though, most of the time he acts as a butler should, dedicated, faithful, strong sense of duty, etc.....or at least tries to. Like expected of his race, due to not really fully understanding human emotions, he tends to act in a passive manner, though he tries, with only comics, books and such to rely upon. Upon study of certain types of humans, he 'picked up' on replying to people, mostly ones who don't do what they're supposed to be doing/not doing their listed job is, in a sarcastic/rude manner.
Likes:
The different variety/character types of Humans (lets just say he likes humanity)
Reading/Books (be it comics/manga, novels, or whatever)
Music (especially of old Asian influence)
Learning new things
Dislikes:
People that act out of character (despite not having a specific character himself)
Freeloaders
Those that don't do what they're supposed to be doing
Ambitions:
"If" he has one, it's probably to discover and read various texts or histories of various cultures, no matter the topic. Whenever asked about anything relating to goals, he always manages to side-step or find a way around the question, either by not answering at all or saying something different each time (like imitating a character's, that he has read, dream).
Strengths:
One Hell Of A Butler - With his extensive knowledge of the way of the butler, or at least what he knows from all that he has read from comics at least, he can cook, clean and well, do chores. Let's just say butler like things. A butler like no other! or something.
He's good with his hands - Like all butlers, being good with ones hands is key. Whether it's cutting or punching something or even throwing things at people, he can do it.
Mighty butler - Other than being a damn fine butler, stemming from the previous one, he excels at fighting. With great physical strength, his fists are his weapon of choice in close quarters combat and kitchen utensils/cutlery for long range.
Weaknesses:
Useless with a gun, he's not too fond of them anyways
While he can cook, he never cooks what people ask of him. The food he cooks and delivers tends to be quite random. Whether he intentionally ignores their food order or never takes the time to learn the names of certain dishes, no one will ever know. Not like anyone hasn't tried.
Fears:
Incomplete Characters
Not going through with a certain character type
Poor character portrayals
Interests:
History
Mythology (especially of Irish, Roman, Greek and Asian)
Foreign Culture (especially the concept of butlers and maids)
Mixing/changing up his character, speech and actions to see the various reactions people give him. Tends to act sarcastic and rude when he does.
Reading
Book collecting
History: Unknown, he just showed up and made it seem natural that he was there.
Romance: No
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Combat Butler
Combat Skills:
Smashing things and using sharp objects.
On a serious note (well it was kind of serious), he's very adaptable (not taking long to adjust to something new), sharp reflexes and has a talent at using weapons, except for guns. Though, when it comes to using knives and all sorts of kitchen utensils (and throwing daggers), he's a master.
Oh, he got crazy strength and likes smashing things, for real. |
3,303 | 72 | 112 | 2,768 | 10,548 | Jericho Joranis|Ruins of Moscow
Jericho's left eyebrow twitched as he looked at the way the Unnamed was holding Ana. And he also regarded the look of pure death Ana was giving the alien. If Jericho had to guess, she was counting the ways she could pull the mass of black energy apart with her bare hands. So he quickly switched on his radio. {And Kidd? You better hurry, because Ana's about ready to kill all of us.} He then turned to the Unnamed and proceeded to quickly explain why she was so unhappy.
"Female humans are mostly very sensitive about what parts of their body a male is looking at. You just exposed her ass to the entirety of the mostly male crew here. For future reference, unless the female is unconscious, carry her like this." He then attempted to demonstrate the married couple's hold in the air. It quickly occurred to him he may be digging himself an early grave the longer he talked and looked at the mass of black energy. It wasn't like she didn't have a nice ass, but if he was gonna look at it, he'd rather have some serious plausible deniability rather than saying it was in his face and he couldn't help it. | Name (& pronunciation): Jericho Joranis
Date of Birth (& age): January 17, 25
Place of Birth: Boise, Idaho, Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 195 lbs
Appearance: Brown hair and eyes, with a lithe and muscular build. His hair is held in a combed back style and he has a scar down his left cheek that he won't tell the origin of.
Personality: He's analyictic and calculating, but also easy going, preferring to play a game of cards over yelling at each other to settle a dispute.
Likes: Music, Card Games, Foods with Kick
Dislikes: Liars, cheaters, foods that are too sweet
Ambitions: To become the best bounty hunter around, but not much else
Strengths:
-Incredibly skilled with his twin pistols and katana
-He's a good liar, which makes sense since he likes to play cards.
-He's a brilliant tactician, able to look at a situation and make a good plan.
-He knows how to cook.
Weaknesses:
-Refuses to use anything other than pistols.
-Because he's such a good liar, it's hard to tell when he's telling the truth.
-Not always the best at keeping a set plan.
-Is over confident at the worst of times.
Mandrill
Fears: Likes to live by the creedo of "Nothing to fear but Fear itself." However, he can be creeped out, especially by bugs of any kind.
Interests: Pistols and swords of all kinds, but his favorite sword is anything resembling a katana.
History: Jericho has been in space most of his life, working with his now dead father to establish a reputation as one of the best and most feared bounty hunters in known space. However, when humanity started to fall apart five years ago, that reputation became a lot more difficult to establish as the surviving humans focused on surviving and the rest of the universe either didn't concern themselves with humanity's sudden and rapid decline or sought for some way to take advantage of it. His father was killed during a skirmish with some Furlyneses. He escaped with a badly damaged ship and his father's body. Over the course of the last few years, he's sought to continue building his reputation, but also looks for the Furlyneses that killed his father.
Romance: Sure
If so, sexual preference: Straight
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Ummmm...N/A?
Combat Skills: Expert marksmen with his pistols, and a hell of a swordsman with his katana. Hand to hand expert, but he's rarely unarmed, even when he sleeps.
Additional Notes: Armor appearance: |
3,304 | 72 | 113 | 2,159 | 3,799 | Valerius | Russia
Valerius was just about done getting up from the side of the spider. As he was walking back to the crew everyone was getting ready to leave. Alastair had already arrived to carry Ana back to the ship, she was in fairly rough shape it looked like. Jericho was trying to demonstrate how to hold Ana and it wasn't going so well...
"Oh right, I think he means... Uhhhh...", Val was doing strange things with his hands, that appeared slightly different... And then he eventually made hand movements that looked like groping.
"No wait, I think that's wrong...", he was going between loads of different sexual gestures and somehow ended up suplexing a random mannequin that came out of nowhere. This was absolute nonsense. He then proceeded to demonstrate several ways to hold different things, like cats, babies, and so on.
"Ah there we go", the end result? He just put on a pair of sunglasses over the hazmat with the text 'dat ass' going along the bottom.
"Okay I can't think of anything", well he can... He's just not complaining about the current situation. | Name: Valerius
Date of Birth (& age): January 25th, aged 25
Place of Birth: Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Personality: Incompetent, absolutely, is what most think about him, but they still rely on him, simply because he's incredibly good at getting a job done even though he's such a good for nothing. He's driven more by the morality behind things to act, doing what is right, it's strange coming from someone who was once a space pirate, but that's how he was taught. Space pirate captain guy was a good guy. As a result he's kind of snarky and a little petty, he'll do some pretty dastardly things from time to time.
Likes: Sweet foods, and junk food, and food. He like food but usually sweets.
Dislikes: Ghosts (you can't hit ghosts)
Ambitions: None
Strengths:
- Close quarters combat he is said to be unmatched.
- Incredible speed, strength and endurance... And skill
- Most effective against humanoid warriors and fighters.
Weaknesses:
- Skilled ranged fighters can give him a hard time.
- He's kind of useless with any other weapon.
- Least effective against monster types.
Fears: That ghosts may be real.
Interests: Finding the perfect confectionery.
History: Born on earth, then became a space pirate, then became a space mercenary for any job. That's a quick summary. The long one is he learned swordsmanship from the space pirates, the captain was a good man, but many years later he would die at the hands of government officials, whom he would later fight. Unfortunately as a result of his recklessness, he became the last of the crew to survive, and his twin red laser blades were destroyed. He didn't serve time as a criminal though, since he managed to escape, and settle down in a random part of space. He worked from then on in random jobs, avoiding criminal activity, as that would attract people of the government. He became low profile enough, until one day he was forced into being hired (or blackmailed) by the military. Some stuff happened and then he was thrown into cryosleep for some reason.
Romance: Maybe...? I dunno.
If so, sexual preference: Dude's straight as an arrow
Military Rank: None (auxiliary captain when he was hired by some forces)
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Captain
Combat Skills:
- Super fast learning capacity: Unique to him is his ability to learn incredibly fast during combat. He once was on a job to destroy a living weapon, and ended up out-learning it, allowing him to best it in combat. If he's not stronger than you when you fight him, he will be once he's done.
- Swordsmanship: He's learned countless different battle styles over his strange encounters over his travels and jobs, but he prefers twin blades. He's known to be able to use any kind of sword, since he's seen almost every single type so far.
- Insane Durability: He's managed to baffle almost every race he's come across because he's gotten up from the most ridiculous wounds and kept fighting.
- The Crimson Scourge: He had signature twin red laser blades when he was a space pirate. Those blades are now destroyed, ever since the end of the pirates he once commandeered. |
3,305 | 72 | 114 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Anastasia
"Get the fuck off of me!"
Ana shoved herself off, falling back down on her ass. She grunted in pain hitting the ground, and winced. That one was gonna hurt. She crawled back and covered her chest.
"You. Stop baring my ass to everyone!Jericho. Help me up now! That's an order!
She pulled up her communicator and spoke into, talking to the ship.
"CAT! ETA ON ARRIVAL FOR THE SHIP? GODDAMN HURRY UP."
Ana weezed from the acid, harmless at this point but still squirming inside her. She had to stop for a few missions. Perhaps work in the medical bay. Of course that meant wearing THAT outfit. Eugh. She shook the though out of her head and waited for help. | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,306 | 72 | 115 | 2,768 | 10,548 | Jericho Joranis|Ruins of Moscow
Jericho stared for the full two seconds that it took Ana to cover her breasts. Never in his life had he seen such a beautiful pair of-
"You. Stop baring my ass to everyone!Jericho. Help me up now! That's an order! He quickly did as she instructed, diverting his eyes away from her beautiful body in order to maintain both his life and his man hood and picked her up in a couple's carry, keeping his face up, but his eyes had a hard time not looking down. He could practically-Right, OK, no more of that. She's a cyborg and more than capable of making you short two or three very important body parts. He turned her away from the others and suddenly found that the side of the building in front of him was very interesting. {Kidd, PLEASE hurry...} | Name (& pronunciation): Jericho Joranis
Date of Birth (& age): January 17, 25
Place of Birth: Boise, Idaho, Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 195 lbs
Appearance: Brown hair and eyes, with a lithe and muscular build. His hair is held in a combed back style and he has a scar down his left cheek that he won't tell the origin of.
Personality: He's analyictic and calculating, but also easy going, preferring to play a game of cards over yelling at each other to settle a dispute.
Likes: Music, Card Games, Foods with Kick
Dislikes: Liars, cheaters, foods that are too sweet
Ambitions: To become the best bounty hunter around, but not much else
Strengths:
-Incredibly skilled with his twin pistols and katana
-He's a good liar, which makes sense since he likes to play cards.
-He's a brilliant tactician, able to look at a situation and make a good plan.
-He knows how to cook.
Weaknesses:
-Refuses to use anything other than pistols.
-Because he's such a good liar, it's hard to tell when he's telling the truth.
-Not always the best at keeping a set plan.
-Is over confident at the worst of times.
Mandrill
Fears: Likes to live by the creedo of "Nothing to fear but Fear itself." However, he can be creeped out, especially by bugs of any kind.
Interests: Pistols and swords of all kinds, but his favorite sword is anything resembling a katana.
History: Jericho has been in space most of his life, working with his now dead father to establish a reputation as one of the best and most feared bounty hunters in known space. However, when humanity started to fall apart five years ago, that reputation became a lot more difficult to establish as the surviving humans focused on surviving and the rest of the universe either didn't concern themselves with humanity's sudden and rapid decline or sought for some way to take advantage of it. His father was killed during a skirmish with some Furlyneses. He escaped with a badly damaged ship and his father's body. Over the course of the last few years, he's sought to continue building his reputation, but also looks for the Furlyneses that killed his father.
Romance: Sure
If so, sexual preference: Straight
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Ummmm...N/A?
Combat Skills: Expert marksmen with his pistols, and a hell of a swordsman with his katana. Hand to hand expert, but he's rarely unarmed, even when he sleeps.
Additional Notes: Armor appearance: |
3,307 | 72 | 116 | 2,159 | 3,799 | Valerius | Russia
"Huuuuh? What's this? Lil' Jerry's redder than my dialogue text?", Val had the most shit-eating smile at the moment as he creeped around the corner of Jericho and Ana's view as the crew waited for the ship to come around. Most of them were still in hazmats, Valerius included.
"Never seen a lady naked before huuuuh? Cherry-boy", with Jericho holding Ana, there really wasn't much he could do and Val knew this.
"This is why you're still a low class actor, no emotional scenes means no Oscars, come on if you don't get past that embarrassment what is to become of your career hmmmm?", at this point even Val knew how annoying he was, but he was enjoying himself, saying all this as he began to lean on Jericho for a moment, before stepping off and a few steps away. | Name: Valerius
Date of Birth (& age): January 25th, aged 25
Place of Birth: Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Personality: Incompetent, absolutely, is what most think about him, but they still rely on him, simply because he's incredibly good at getting a job done even though he's such a good for nothing. He's driven more by the morality behind things to act, doing what is right, it's strange coming from someone who was once a space pirate, but that's how he was taught. Space pirate captain guy was a good guy. As a result he's kind of snarky and a little petty, he'll do some pretty dastardly things from time to time.
Likes: Sweet foods, and junk food, and food. He like food but usually sweets.
Dislikes: Ghosts (you can't hit ghosts)
Ambitions: None
Strengths:
- Close quarters combat he is said to be unmatched.
- Incredible speed, strength and endurance... And skill
- Most effective against humanoid warriors and fighters.
Weaknesses:
- Skilled ranged fighters can give him a hard time.
- He's kind of useless with any other weapon.
- Least effective against monster types.
Fears: That ghosts may be real.
Interests: Finding the perfect confectionery.
History: Born on earth, then became a space pirate, then became a space mercenary for any job. That's a quick summary. The long one is he learned swordsmanship from the space pirates, the captain was a good man, but many years later he would die at the hands of government officials, whom he would later fight. Unfortunately as a result of his recklessness, he became the last of the crew to survive, and his twin red laser blades were destroyed. He didn't serve time as a criminal though, since he managed to escape, and settle down in a random part of space. He worked from then on in random jobs, avoiding criminal activity, as that would attract people of the government. He became low profile enough, until one day he was forced into being hired (or blackmailed) by the military. Some stuff happened and then he was thrown into cryosleep for some reason.
Romance: Maybe...? I dunno.
If so, sexual preference: Dude's straight as an arrow
Military Rank: None (auxiliary captain when he was hired by some forces)
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Captain
Combat Skills:
- Super fast learning capacity: Unique to him is his ability to learn incredibly fast during combat. He once was on a job to destroy a living weapon, and ended up out-learning it, allowing him to best it in combat. If he's not stronger than you when you fight him, he will be once he's done.
- Swordsmanship: He's learned countless different battle styles over his strange encounters over his travels and jobs, but he prefers twin blades. He's known to be able to use any kind of sword, since he's seen almost every single type so far.
- Insane Durability: He's managed to baffle almost every race he's come across because he's gotten up from the most ridiculous wounds and kept fighting.
- The Crimson Scourge: He had signature twin red laser blades when he was a space pirate. Those blades are now destroyed, ever since the end of the pirates he once commandeered. |
3,308 | 72 | 117 | 1,048 | 840 | Alastair
Despite what his intentions were, it seems he was doing something wrong after all. Jericho helped illustrate that fact. "Human females sure are strange things." he nodded in agreement with himself, quite possibly forgetting he said that out loud. Jericho further tried to show Alastair the correct way to hold her with strange arm movements but just looked on at him with confusion. It was then where Val stepped interrupted and offered his own suggestions.
His gestures were quite different from Jericho's but nodded along as he took them in. The gestures were quite familiar to him, he seen them often enough in manga and anime. It was there he decided to try out Val's suggestions, they definitely seemed more true than Jericho's, that's for sure. He went for a groping hold on Ana but, while noting how soft the upper part of her chest was, it didn't seem like that one was right either. The ever present killing aura grew a little thicker. Hmm
He then spent the next several minutes going through Val's strange suggestions with such seriousness that it must've appeared quite comical. After each suggestion, he couldn't help but wonder if all of them were wrong and that they were only making things worse. The killing intent from earlier grew ever stronger and Ana was so quiet. Such strange creatures females are, he mused to himself with his ever present smile. Sure enough, Ana was mad. With a crude yell, she shoved her way off Alastair's shoulders and proceeded to make new orders in a rush.
Walking close to Val, "How odd, Her chest was soft and then hardened." he said to no one in particular, lost in thought. | Name: Alastair (Al-la-ster)
Date of Birth: August? 5th?
Place of Birth: Black Hole, Duh.
Gender: ???
Species: Unnamed
Height: 6'0
Weight: How much do you think a mass of black energy would weight?
Personality:
His personality changes depending what 'character' he wishes to portray, though, most of the time he acts as a butler should, dedicated, faithful, strong sense of duty, etc.....or at least tries to. Like expected of his race, due to not really fully understanding human emotions, he tends to act in a passive manner, though he tries, with only comics, books and such to rely upon. Upon study of certain types of humans, he 'picked up' on replying to people, mostly ones who don't do what they're supposed to be doing/not doing their listed job is, in a sarcastic/rude manner.
Likes:
The different variety/character types of Humans (lets just say he likes humanity)
Reading/Books (be it comics/manga, novels, or whatever)
Music (especially of old Asian influence)
Learning new things
Dislikes:
People that act out of character (despite not having a specific character himself)
Freeloaders
Those that don't do what they're supposed to be doing
Ambitions:
"If" he has one, it's probably to discover and read various texts or histories of various cultures, no matter the topic. Whenever asked about anything relating to goals, he always manages to side-step or find a way around the question, either by not answering at all or saying something different each time (like imitating a character's, that he has read, dream).
Strengths:
One Hell Of A Butler - With his extensive knowledge of the way of the butler, or at least what he knows from all that he has read from comics at least, he can cook, clean and well, do chores. Let's just say butler like things. A butler like no other! or something.
He's good with his hands - Like all butlers, being good with ones hands is key. Whether it's cutting or punching something or even throwing things at people, he can do it.
Mighty butler - Other than being a damn fine butler, stemming from the previous one, he excels at fighting. With great physical strength, his fists are his weapon of choice in close quarters combat and kitchen utensils/cutlery for long range.
Weaknesses:
Useless with a gun, he's not too fond of them anyways
While he can cook, he never cooks what people ask of him. The food he cooks and delivers tends to be quite random. Whether he intentionally ignores their food order or never takes the time to learn the names of certain dishes, no one will ever know. Not like anyone hasn't tried.
Fears:
Incomplete Characters
Not going through with a certain character type
Poor character portrayals
Interests:
History
Mythology (especially of Irish, Roman, Greek and Asian)
Foreign Culture (especially the concept of butlers and maids)
Mixing/changing up his character, speech and actions to see the various reactions people give him. Tends to act sarcastic and rude when he does.
Reading
Book collecting
History: Unknown, he just showed up and made it seem natural that he was there.
Romance: No
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Combat Butler
Combat Skills:
Smashing things and using sharp objects.
On a serious note (well it was kind of serious), he's very adaptable (not taking long to adjust to something new), sharp reflexes and has a talent at using weapons, except for guns. Though, when it comes to using knives and all sorts of kitchen utensils (and throwing daggers), he's a master.
Oh, he got crazy strength and likes smashing things, for real. |
3,309 | 72 | 118 | 119 | 740 | Intently listening to Patches with a hint of skepticism in his eyes, Kidd nodded as Patches finished explaining himself. He somewhat understood when he imagined himself in his shoes, being alone as the only possibly sane one in this area certainly does sound miserable. "If yer not out for any of our blood then sounds good enough to me. Not the boss 'round here though, ya might hafta ask Ana or somethin." Even at this point in time, the Furlyne was not aware of who the actual commander of the ship was.
The speaker system sounded the voice of Ana and the male brunette immediately reacted to the name he was addressed with. "WHO YA CALLIN' A CAT BO-" Bleep. As quick as the voice came on, as quick as it ceased. Kidd scratched the back of his head in irritation just as the speaker system came back on. "I AIN'T TAKIN' YOUR ORDE-- Oh, Jericho, that you? Sorry, thought you were that bossy bitch. I'll see what I can do ta speed her up."
The boy may have never flown a ship before but he knew the technicalities of how to make it fly, it was part of the knowledge required as a ship technician after all. And even if he didn't, there was a manual installed within the database of the main computer like every manufactured ship so no problem there. Just as he instructed the ship to direct itself toward the coordinates of the area where the radar showed them to be at, the speaker system came to life again with a furiously screaming Ana, causing Kidd to cover his feline like ears with his hands from the intense volume. "OWWW. CAN YA SHUT YER LOUD MOUTH. Jeez, that hurt ma ears. She's flyin' as fast as she can within the safety limit alright? We can see all of ya from afar, few minutes to get to ya if I'm guessin' right."
Not too long after, the ship safely lands on the grounds of Moscow. The boy left the comms room and motioned for Patches to follow him to lower the loading bay while in a suit similar to theirs to protect himself from the radiation. As his eyes scanned over at the crew, his eyes squinted as "WTH is going on here" expression was plastered all over his face. Before his lips parted to spout a sarcastic remark, his gaze darted at the burning marks on Ana's body, immediately barking over at the crew behind him. "Get the medic team NOW! One of 'em is heavily injured and needs medical attention!" | Name (& pronunciation): Kidd (KI-D) (Previously classified only as Prisoner #0715, new proper name given by mentor)
Date of Birth (& age): June 10, 42 years old (21 in human time measurement)
Place of Birth: Home planet of the Furlynes
Gender: Male
Species: Furlynes
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 52 kg
Personality:
The "straight man" of the group, which is not to be taken literally, specifically pertaining to the person who retorts to a dumb remark made by another. Due to being a Furlynes, he is usually reluctant towards beings of the other races, with the exemption of the former head technician of the military base he worked at, thus his retort against them are blunt if not sarcastic. While being such a character, he can be quite mischievous when time for being serious isn't called for, a trait he kept from his past on his home planet. "Geek" doesn't exactly suit his character but the Furlynes is pretty cunning and clever, in the long past used as his tools for his thievery, now put to good use on the ship as an assistant technician/mechanic which he now takes pride in. But the geek part is somewhat evident when he scolds crew members for destroying components of the ship, vital or not.
Likes: Aroma of freshly brewed coffee Warm mug of milk Taking naps in calm, serene environment Challenging mechanical repairs Feeling of newly polished tools
Dislikes: Being compared to a mere Earth cat Noise/Intrusion interrupting his work Crew members that frequently destroy the ship Busted mechanical equipment he cannot fix with his current skills and knowledge People bad mouthing towards his late mentor
Ambitions:
To be able to achieve further in the mechanical and technical field, even more than his mentor, the former technician of the ship.
To advance the features of the current ship that even his mentor would be proud of.
Strengths: Swift movement speed due to his light weight Mechanical and technical literacy
Weaknesses: Heavy physical activities that can be strenuous to the body, since he has a fairly thin build Feeling helpless after admitting he cannot repair specific damaged machinery
Fears: Being captured and put into custody Losing his memento of his mentor, a rusty old wrench
Interests: Machinery and technology Space aircrafts and their composition
History:
Being born to a pair of Furlyne parents who were in an unfortunate situation financially, the infant was abandoned on the streets only to be sheltered by various shop keepers of the public market, where he had been left by his parents. The Furlyne boy grew up with different names from each of the caretakers, none to his liking so he stuck with neither. He was a mischievous type of child, causing little troubles here and there, stealing small things that got him nothing but more trouble even with his fast feet. Seeing that this would not work for him in the future, he sought out a way to not be caught. And there it was, the infamous bunch of thieves of the town.
Since he was not welcome in the shop keepers' households anymore due to his bad habit of stealing, he moved into the thieves' hideout at the outskirts of town. But these were not common thieves, they had the skills and smarts―or rephrased as sneakiness- of an above average thief. This was where the Furlyne teen learned to quickly move with actual tactic instead of raw movement and how to handle a dagger or knife, but not on actual live beings. All of the thieves' brotherhood days ended for him when one day, he was framed for killing someone when in fact, he was too afraid of thrusting the dagger into someone fatally. The bloodied dagger was grasped in his hand as he was caught, left behind by his 'brothers'.
After a few to couple of years being locked up behind bars, he was given a number of choices for jobs to choose from, all of which were military related and he was to be heavily under surveillance. It was by chance that he took up the job of apprentice technician and met his mentor, the head technician of the base. He was skeptical at the middle aged human male, mostly because he hasn't exactly experienced co-existing with beings of the other races and was he even capable of subduing him, an experienced thief? The man didn't seem to be wary of him as an ex-convict nor a being of another species, what he cared about was the boy being able to get his job done but there was a problem. He had NO idea whatsoever about these so-called 'machinery'. He was a boy literally living on the streets, there was no way he could have learned anything of the sort unless he saw one in front of him.
It took quite a long while before all the basic knowledge about machinery and technology were crammed into his brain, the Furlyne grew fond of him over the passed time, being given a proper name he actually appreciated (since the mentor couldn't call him kid all the time which was ironic to his given name), a sense of actual trust from the human, and all the machinery they were able to build and repair together. But alas, the mentor's age eventually caught up to him and led him to rest in a natural cause. Kidd, the male Furlyne, vowed to keep his teachings alive by continuing his work as a technician with his head held high.
Currently, now that everything has gone to hell on Earth, where the military he was serving was located at, Kidd was accused as a spy now that the military has been corrupted. Escape was futile as he was captured and now on his way to a death row.
Romance: Yes?
Sexual preference: No specific preference, but slightly hesitant to involve himself with other races in such a way.
Role on the ship: Technician/Mechanic
Combat Skills:
Quite a skill in daggers and knives due to the experience as a thief, movement speed to be feared of, and his quick, cunning―sneaky to be precise-, tricks, which includes pick pocketing. |
3,310 | 72 | 119 | 2,768 | 10,548 | Jericho Joranis|Starchaser
When the ship had touched down, Jericho wasted no time in getting Ana on board and to the medical team, who wheeled her away to treat the acid burns and check for other abnormal effects the damage to her suit had had. Frankly, he was just glad to get her out of his arms and away from him. Not that he didn't enjoy the view, but he once more reminded himself that she could easily make the him he is into the him he no longer is. With a heavy sigh, and resisting the urge to put a round in Valerius's head to make himself feel better, he retired to his bunk, taking off his helmet and setting it on the pillow next to him. One more joke. One more FUCKING joke, and I will shoot off his pinky toes... | Name (& pronunciation): Jericho Joranis
Date of Birth (& age): January 17, 25
Place of Birth: Boise, Idaho, Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 195 lbs
Appearance: Brown hair and eyes, with a lithe and muscular build. His hair is held in a combed back style and he has a scar down his left cheek that he won't tell the origin of.
Personality: He's analyictic and calculating, but also easy going, preferring to play a game of cards over yelling at each other to settle a dispute.
Likes: Music, Card Games, Foods with Kick
Dislikes: Liars, cheaters, foods that are too sweet
Ambitions: To become the best bounty hunter around, but not much else
Strengths:
-Incredibly skilled with his twin pistols and katana
-He's a good liar, which makes sense since he likes to play cards.
-He's a brilliant tactician, able to look at a situation and make a good plan.
-He knows how to cook.
Weaknesses:
-Refuses to use anything other than pistols.
-Because he's such a good liar, it's hard to tell when he's telling the truth.
-Not always the best at keeping a set plan.
-Is over confident at the worst of times.
Mandrill
Fears: Likes to live by the creedo of "Nothing to fear but Fear itself." However, he can be creeped out, especially by bugs of any kind.
Interests: Pistols and swords of all kinds, but his favorite sword is anything resembling a katana.
History: Jericho has been in space most of his life, working with his now dead father to establish a reputation as one of the best and most feared bounty hunters in known space. However, when humanity started to fall apart five years ago, that reputation became a lot more difficult to establish as the surviving humans focused on surviving and the rest of the universe either didn't concern themselves with humanity's sudden and rapid decline or sought for some way to take advantage of it. His father was killed during a skirmish with some Furlyneses. He escaped with a badly damaged ship and his father's body. Over the course of the last few years, he's sought to continue building his reputation, but also looks for the Furlyneses that killed his father.
Romance: Sure
If so, sexual preference: Straight
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Ummmm...N/A?
Combat Skills: Expert marksmen with his pistols, and a hell of a swordsman with his katana. Hand to hand expert, but he's rarely unarmed, even when he sleeps.
Additional Notes: Armor appearance: |
3,311 | 72 | 120 | 2,348 | 2,332 | The Main Deck Of The Starchaser-A couple of hours later
The Starchaser orbited earth. The low hum of the ship was lost in the vacuum of space, its drifting quite silent. Ana stepped onto the bridge where the rest were sitting. Her stomach had been mostly fixed, though the radiation was still a problem. She wore a wetsuit, the stomsch portion cut away to let her wound breathe and air out. On it was a twisted burning mark, going deep. Ana spoke up, breaking the silence.
"Bad news. The medical bay says I am restricted from joining any future combat for the forseeable future. As much as this upsets me, I must give time for my wounds and sickness to heal. In the meantime, I will work the medical bay as head nurse, as I already know enough about medical care. Second thing. In my place, our new friend will be taking up the position. He's already proven himself knowledgable and a good asset to us. He will lead you guys on future missions as well as work in the communications room. That is all. Any questions?"
Ana looked around the room for any sign of questions on their faces, hoping there were none. | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,312 | 72 | 121 | 2,159 | 3,799 | Valerius | Starchaser
Valerius was holding a nurse uniform as Ana asked around about questions. Where did he get this? Well actually, it was one of the older uniforms for the medical bay, he had these ones ordered for the female nurses to boost morale as he said. The crew even then looked at him strangely but the male members didn't seem to mind.
"We have a uniform for women who work in the medical bay", he said. Handing the uniform over to Ana. He could barely hold back a smile. Once she had changed into it, it turned out to be a short-cut dress with headband like a traditional nurse from many many decades ago usually seen in adult films of older hospitals in certain countries. Simply put, it was sexy.
"Hmhm, you look good in it, if I do say so myself", he looked a little proud of himself here. | Name: Valerius
Date of Birth (& age): January 25th, aged 25
Place of Birth: Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Personality: Incompetent, absolutely, is what most think about him, but they still rely on him, simply because he's incredibly good at getting a job done even though he's such a good for nothing. He's driven more by the morality behind things to act, doing what is right, it's strange coming from someone who was once a space pirate, but that's how he was taught. Space pirate captain guy was a good guy. As a result he's kind of snarky and a little petty, he'll do some pretty dastardly things from time to time.
Likes: Sweet foods, and junk food, and food. He like food but usually sweets.
Dislikes: Ghosts (you can't hit ghosts)
Ambitions: None
Strengths:
- Close quarters combat he is said to be unmatched.
- Incredible speed, strength and endurance... And skill
- Most effective against humanoid warriors and fighters.
Weaknesses:
- Skilled ranged fighters can give him a hard time.
- He's kind of useless with any other weapon.
- Least effective against monster types.
Fears: That ghosts may be real.
Interests: Finding the perfect confectionery.
History: Born on earth, then became a space pirate, then became a space mercenary for any job. That's a quick summary. The long one is he learned swordsmanship from the space pirates, the captain was a good man, but many years later he would die at the hands of government officials, whom he would later fight. Unfortunately as a result of his recklessness, he became the last of the crew to survive, and his twin red laser blades were destroyed. He didn't serve time as a criminal though, since he managed to escape, and settle down in a random part of space. He worked from then on in random jobs, avoiding criminal activity, as that would attract people of the government. He became low profile enough, until one day he was forced into being hired (or blackmailed) by the military. Some stuff happened and then he was thrown into cryosleep for some reason.
Romance: Maybe...? I dunno.
If so, sexual preference: Dude's straight as an arrow
Military Rank: None (auxiliary captain when he was hired by some forces)
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Captain
Combat Skills:
- Super fast learning capacity: Unique to him is his ability to learn incredibly fast during combat. He once was on a job to destroy a living weapon, and ended up out-learning it, allowing him to best it in combat. If he's not stronger than you when you fight him, he will be once he's done.
- Swordsmanship: He's learned countless different battle styles over his strange encounters over his travels and jobs, but he prefers twin blades. He's known to be able to use any kind of sword, since he's seen almost every single type so far.
- Insane Durability: He's managed to baffle almost every race he's come across because he's gotten up from the most ridiculous wounds and kept fighting.
- The Crimson Scourge: He had signature twin red laser blades when he was a space pirate. Those blades are now destroyed, ever since the end of the pirates he once commandeered. |
3,313 | 72 | 122 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Anastasia-Onboard the Starchaser
Anastasia sighed. She wanted to kill the captain, but she had no influence. He was the captain and everyone listened to him and only him. She would have to take the hit to her pride in strides, not letting it faze her. The crew sat around. She looked directly at Kidd.
"You. Follow me to my office. Now."
She lead Kidd to her new office. It smelled like a hospital, clean and nothing dirty or lying around. She fell down into her seat, propping her legs up onto the desk. This new outfit was straining her thighs and was quite bothersome. Maybe later she'd make a petition to change it. In front of her was Kidd, still standing. She spoke up first.
"Listen. Why are you still here? You don't need to be. We can take you back to whatever planet you live on. You don't have to be here. You don't have to stay with us. We have enough engineers and we can get by fine. Why not go back to your home. I'm sure whoever you have left is worried sick about you." | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,314 | 72 | 123 | 1,048 | 840 | Alastair - Starchaser
After their battle with the monstrous spider and the situation afterwords, the atmosphere was quite heavy to say the least. Ana's reaction resembled one of those characters he read about that wanted to wipe everyone from existence and Jericho looked like one of those characters that goes on shooting rampages and/or goes around with panties on his head acting like some kind of hero. It was in the comics he read so it had to hold some merit. Hmm.
Few hours later they were back in space and Ana re-emerged on the main deck where everyone was gathered with news. She didn't exactly look fully recovered but it seems it was enough to get her fact on her feet at least. Ana announced that she was to step down from action for awhile so she can heal, which was expected, but then announced that she'd be working as Head Nurse. Which seems like it would benefit the humans quite well so it was good news for them, also she was to be replaced by their new 'friend'. This new 'friend' being one that helped them in the previous battle.
Almost, as if expecting it, Valerius already had a uniform in hand for her to wear. The uniform looked like those he has seen in old human videos detailing some of their mating rituals. It also seems to be a hobby or business for some humans. The others seem to know of it, maybe Ana is into it as well? Maybe, Maybe not. He won't ask. Probably for the best. As Ana lead Kidd to her new office, Alastair went and prepared refreshments for the crew. Given what he knows, humans prefer refreshment of sorts after situations like those. After spending some time getting the drinks and snacks ready, he put them on the tray and went about handing them to the crew.
After going through most of the crew, there was only Kidd and Ana left. With that, he made way to Ana's office, knocking lightly before letting himself in. Kidd looked like he was about to say something but stopped once he noticed Alastair's presence. Despite seemingly interrupted their conversation and having let himself, Alastair paid it no mind as he offered them their refreshments before something caught his eye. Bending down, he took a closer look. "Red...."
Getting Kidd's attention, "The color red seems to be popular among human females, hmm? Although... I've in some books i've read said that the majority of those who wear red undergarments tend to be sluts..." he read that 'sluts who wear red' tend to be quite popular amongst human male partners, given that Ana is wearing red, she looks to be quite popular. Turning to Kidd he finished, "....Is it tru-" he stopped when he noticed a change in the atmosphere around Ana. How strange. Maybe it wasn't? | Name: Alastair (Al-la-ster)
Date of Birth: August? 5th?
Place of Birth: Black Hole, Duh.
Gender: ???
Species: Unnamed
Height: 6'0
Weight: How much do you think a mass of black energy would weight?
Personality:
His personality changes depending what 'character' he wishes to portray, though, most of the time he acts as a butler should, dedicated, faithful, strong sense of duty, etc.....or at least tries to. Like expected of his race, due to not really fully understanding human emotions, he tends to act in a passive manner, though he tries, with only comics, books and such to rely upon. Upon study of certain types of humans, he 'picked up' on replying to people, mostly ones who don't do what they're supposed to be doing/not doing their listed job is, in a sarcastic/rude manner.
Likes:
The different variety/character types of Humans (lets just say he likes humanity)
Reading/Books (be it comics/manga, novels, or whatever)
Music (especially of old Asian influence)
Learning new things
Dislikes:
People that act out of character (despite not having a specific character himself)
Freeloaders
Those that don't do what they're supposed to be doing
Ambitions:
"If" he has one, it's probably to discover and read various texts or histories of various cultures, no matter the topic. Whenever asked about anything relating to goals, he always manages to side-step or find a way around the question, either by not answering at all or saying something different each time (like imitating a character's, that he has read, dream).
Strengths:
One Hell Of A Butler - With his extensive knowledge of the way of the butler, or at least what he knows from all that he has read from comics at least, he can cook, clean and well, do chores. Let's just say butler like things. A butler like no other! or something.
He's good with his hands - Like all butlers, being good with ones hands is key. Whether it's cutting or punching something or even throwing things at people, he can do it.
Mighty butler - Other than being a damn fine butler, stemming from the previous one, he excels at fighting. With great physical strength, his fists are his weapon of choice in close quarters combat and kitchen utensils/cutlery for long range.
Weaknesses:
Useless with a gun, he's not too fond of them anyways
While he can cook, he never cooks what people ask of him. The food he cooks and delivers tends to be quite random. Whether he intentionally ignores their food order or never takes the time to learn the names of certain dishes, no one will ever know. Not like anyone hasn't tried.
Fears:
Incomplete Characters
Not going through with a certain character type
Poor character portrayals
Interests:
History
Mythology (especially of Irish, Roman, Greek and Asian)
Foreign Culture (especially the concept of butlers and maids)
Mixing/changing up his character, speech and actions to see the various reactions people give him. Tends to act sarcastic and rude when he does.
Reading
Book collecting
History: Unknown, he just showed up and made it seem natural that he was there.
Romance: No
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Combat Butler
Combat Skills:
Smashing things and using sharp objects.
On a serious note (well it was kind of serious), he's very adaptable (not taking long to adjust to something new), sharp reflexes and has a talent at using weapons, except for guns. Though, when it comes to using knives and all sorts of kitchen utensils (and throwing daggers), he's a master.
Oh, he got crazy strength and likes smashing things, for real. |
3,315 | 72 | 124 | 119 | 740 | Kidd stared skeptically at the nurse uniform that Ana was wearing and commented on it while he was with the rest of the crew. "Ya sure that's supposed to be a human uniform for the medical unit...? Looks to me like a formal uniform for a hooker or somethin'." Just as he ended his statement in a quiet mumble, the Russian woman grabbed the Furlyne's attention to demand him to follow her to her office. Uh oh, what did she want? Did she hear the hooker part? Whatever the reason, he half heartedly accepted her order and walked a little behind the lady while turning his gaze to the side with an indifferent expression.
Upon arriving at the medical station office, his eyes averted away from hers even as she bluntly spoke of her concern. There was a long awkward silence from the male brunette as he debated whether or not he should be truthful or get away with some made up excuse to make things easier. That thought was interrupted when another being entered the office, it was Alastair, the butler with a tray of tea cups and snacks. Kidd's interest piqued, mostly because the tea he had earlier with the milk suited his taste very much so he didn't mind drinking another. But it was then when the dark blob being pointed out something about red.
"What'cha goin' on about, Alastair? That nurse garment ain't got any--" A flash of red caught his eyes. His cheeks tinted into a faint blush of red, immediately turning his eyes away and raising one of his hand up to the side of his head to block any perripheral vision of what he now cannot unsee. "O-OI, HA-HAVE SOME DECENCY AND LOWER YOUR CROSSED LEGS, WI-WILL YA?!" Now feeling the heavy aura of killing intent, he decided that he should help a fellow crewmate out and let him escape before any violence ensues. "Ooookay, maybe it ain't a good idea to stay here any longer, fella. We appreciate the stuff, I'll be takin' one'a these, thanks Alastair." A cup of tea was picked up from the tray as the butler was lead back to the door to let himself out before Kidd returned to Ana's desk.
Feeling awkward from what had just happened, he figured answering her previous question seriously might not be so appropriate at this time. So instead, the Furlyne went for the straight but short version of the truth. After taking a sip from whatever beverage was in the cup, he parted his lips to answer, his free arm folded on his chest. "Like you, I ain't got no family or a place I can call home. 'cept we Furlynes ain't going extinct, of course. So I figured stickin' around here woulda been worth my time plus I've gotta pay my debt I owe." | Name (& pronunciation): Kidd (KI-D) (Previously classified only as Prisoner #0715, new proper name given by mentor)
Date of Birth (& age): June 10, 42 years old (21 in human time measurement)
Place of Birth: Home planet of the Furlynes
Gender: Male
Species: Furlynes
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 52 kg
Personality:
The "straight man" of the group, which is not to be taken literally, specifically pertaining to the person who retorts to a dumb remark made by another. Due to being a Furlynes, he is usually reluctant towards beings of the other races, with the exemption of the former head technician of the military base he worked at, thus his retort against them are blunt if not sarcastic. While being such a character, he can be quite mischievous when time for being serious isn't called for, a trait he kept from his past on his home planet. "Geek" doesn't exactly suit his character but the Furlynes is pretty cunning and clever, in the long past used as his tools for his thievery, now put to good use on the ship as an assistant technician/mechanic which he now takes pride in. But the geek part is somewhat evident when he scolds crew members for destroying components of the ship, vital or not.
Likes: Aroma of freshly brewed coffee Warm mug of milk Taking naps in calm, serene environment Challenging mechanical repairs Feeling of newly polished tools
Dislikes: Being compared to a mere Earth cat Noise/Intrusion interrupting his work Crew members that frequently destroy the ship Busted mechanical equipment he cannot fix with his current skills and knowledge People bad mouthing towards his late mentor
Ambitions:
To be able to achieve further in the mechanical and technical field, even more than his mentor, the former technician of the ship.
To advance the features of the current ship that even his mentor would be proud of.
Strengths: Swift movement speed due to his light weight Mechanical and technical literacy
Weaknesses: Heavy physical activities that can be strenuous to the body, since he has a fairly thin build Feeling helpless after admitting he cannot repair specific damaged machinery
Fears: Being captured and put into custody Losing his memento of his mentor, a rusty old wrench
Interests: Machinery and technology Space aircrafts and their composition
History:
Being born to a pair of Furlyne parents who were in an unfortunate situation financially, the infant was abandoned on the streets only to be sheltered by various shop keepers of the public market, where he had been left by his parents. The Furlyne boy grew up with different names from each of the caretakers, none to his liking so he stuck with neither. He was a mischievous type of child, causing little troubles here and there, stealing small things that got him nothing but more trouble even with his fast feet. Seeing that this would not work for him in the future, he sought out a way to not be caught. And there it was, the infamous bunch of thieves of the town.
Since he was not welcome in the shop keepers' households anymore due to his bad habit of stealing, he moved into the thieves' hideout at the outskirts of town. But these were not common thieves, they had the skills and smarts―or rephrased as sneakiness- of an above average thief. This was where the Furlyne teen learned to quickly move with actual tactic instead of raw movement and how to handle a dagger or knife, but not on actual live beings. All of the thieves' brotherhood days ended for him when one day, he was framed for killing someone when in fact, he was too afraid of thrusting the dagger into someone fatally. The bloodied dagger was grasped in his hand as he was caught, left behind by his 'brothers'.
After a few to couple of years being locked up behind bars, he was given a number of choices for jobs to choose from, all of which were military related and he was to be heavily under surveillance. It was by chance that he took up the job of apprentice technician and met his mentor, the head technician of the base. He was skeptical at the middle aged human male, mostly because he hasn't exactly experienced co-existing with beings of the other races and was he even capable of subduing him, an experienced thief? The man didn't seem to be wary of him as an ex-convict nor a being of another species, what he cared about was the boy being able to get his job done but there was a problem. He had NO idea whatsoever about these so-called 'machinery'. He was a boy literally living on the streets, there was no way he could have learned anything of the sort unless he saw one in front of him.
It took quite a long while before all the basic knowledge about machinery and technology were crammed into his brain, the Furlyne grew fond of him over the passed time, being given a proper name he actually appreciated (since the mentor couldn't call him kid all the time which was ironic to his given name), a sense of actual trust from the human, and all the machinery they were able to build and repair together. But alas, the mentor's age eventually caught up to him and led him to rest in a natural cause. Kidd, the male Furlyne, vowed to keep his teachings alive by continuing his work as a technician with his head held high.
Currently, now that everything has gone to hell on Earth, where the military he was serving was located at, Kidd was accused as a spy now that the military has been corrupted. Escape was futile as he was captured and now on his way to a death row.
Romance: Yes?
Sexual preference: No specific preference, but slightly hesitant to involve himself with other races in such a way.
Role on the ship: Technician/Mechanic
Combat Skills:
Quite a skill in daggers and knives due to the experience as a thief, movement speed to be feared of, and his quick, cunning―sneaky to be precise-, tricks, which includes pick pocketing. |
3,316 | 72 | 125 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Anastasia-Head Nurse Room
Anastasia sighed. She wasn't getting through to him and it worried her. She kept her legs up and began to address the problems.
"First of all i'm not moving my legs. This position is far too comfortable. Second, I don't think you understand. This isn't about some fun little adventure. This is a life and death situation. Tomorrow you could end up dying on the ground in a pool of blood. I don't care that you owe some shitty debt. That isn't a thing anymore. What is important is your life. You're a young kid with no terrible crimes. All of us on this ship at some point. Xar is a war criminal. Valerius is a former pirate. Jericho is a bounty hunter. And me? I have far too much innocent blood on my hands. So please. Listen to me when I say to consider leaving. I can set you up a new life in relaxation. I can get you a quiet life. Please. Listen to me. I don't want to see another innocent kid's blood spilled. The guilt would be too much for me. I don't want to see your face in a mask of death. Just please. You're just a child compared to us. I don't want to see another dead child.
Tears welled up in Ana's eyes, but she blinked them back before anyone could see. Maybe this time the cat would listen to her and take her advice. | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,317 | 72 | 126 | 119 | 740 | Seeing as the nurse outfitted woman was nowhere near giving up her 'comfortable' position, the feline boy clicked his tongue and continued avoiding his eyes toward the cyborg speaking. Taking sips from the tea brewed by the butler, Kidd listened, all the while thinking about how weirdly concerned the supposed 'strict, cold female human' sounded in her lecture. Did she actually care at all? Or did she just want him off their ship? Kidd couldn't exactly tell from her tone alone, but taking a glance at her expression with her current 'position' was not an option. He didn't desire to sign his death wish this early or in this kind of situation at all.
The boy stayed silent after her piece and took a final sip before responding back, "Ya know, I never took you for the softie type. With all that tough chick get up, couldn't see that comin' from a mile away." He snickered at his own comment for a short moment before continuing. "But ya know what you couldn't have known? I used ta be called Prisoner #0715 and for a good reason. I was accused as a murderer of this one Furlyne, ya see, an innocent, by stander who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." There was a deafening silence for a moment as the Furlyne's gaze fell onto the floor. The image of the bloodied dagger in his hand flashed, an unpleasant reminder of the incident. He may not have been the actual killer, but the guilt remained nevertheless.
"'Nyways, I ain't that much of a goody two shoes ya thought I might have been. But that's not the point, I'm stayin' no matter what ya say. I appreciate the concerns, lady, but I've made up ma mind. Livin' in a plain ole boring, safe life's not too bad but ya know, space 'venturing with you folks sounds way better. Ya ain't the boss of me so that's that." He slammed his open palm on her desk to emphasize his point, but what he forgot was the view of the unmentionable by doing so. The shocked, stunned face lasted for a few seconds before he swung his head away from the view and retreated out of the nurse office, since he had made his point clear. | Name (& pronunciation): Kidd (KI-D) (Previously classified only as Prisoner #0715, new proper name given by mentor)
Date of Birth (& age): June 10, 42 years old (21 in human time measurement)
Place of Birth: Home planet of the Furlynes
Gender: Male
Species: Furlynes
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 52 kg
Personality:
The "straight man" of the group, which is not to be taken literally, specifically pertaining to the person who retorts to a dumb remark made by another. Due to being a Furlynes, he is usually reluctant towards beings of the other races, with the exemption of the former head technician of the military base he worked at, thus his retort against them are blunt if not sarcastic. While being such a character, he can be quite mischievous when time for being serious isn't called for, a trait he kept from his past on his home planet. "Geek" doesn't exactly suit his character but the Furlynes is pretty cunning and clever, in the long past used as his tools for his thievery, now put to good use on the ship as an assistant technician/mechanic which he now takes pride in. But the geek part is somewhat evident when he scolds crew members for destroying components of the ship, vital or not.
Likes: Aroma of freshly brewed coffee Warm mug of milk Taking naps in calm, serene environment Challenging mechanical repairs Feeling of newly polished tools
Dislikes: Being compared to a mere Earth cat Noise/Intrusion interrupting his work Crew members that frequently destroy the ship Busted mechanical equipment he cannot fix with his current skills and knowledge People bad mouthing towards his late mentor
Ambitions:
To be able to achieve further in the mechanical and technical field, even more than his mentor, the former technician of the ship.
To advance the features of the current ship that even his mentor would be proud of.
Strengths: Swift movement speed due to his light weight Mechanical and technical literacy
Weaknesses: Heavy physical activities that can be strenuous to the body, since he has a fairly thin build Feeling helpless after admitting he cannot repair specific damaged machinery
Fears: Being captured and put into custody Losing his memento of his mentor, a rusty old wrench
Interests: Machinery and technology Space aircrafts and their composition
History:
Being born to a pair of Furlyne parents who were in an unfortunate situation financially, the infant was abandoned on the streets only to be sheltered by various shop keepers of the public market, where he had been left by his parents. The Furlyne boy grew up with different names from each of the caretakers, none to his liking so he stuck with neither. He was a mischievous type of child, causing little troubles here and there, stealing small things that got him nothing but more trouble even with his fast feet. Seeing that this would not work for him in the future, he sought out a way to not be caught. And there it was, the infamous bunch of thieves of the town.
Since he was not welcome in the shop keepers' households anymore due to his bad habit of stealing, he moved into the thieves' hideout at the outskirts of town. But these were not common thieves, they had the skills and smarts―or rephrased as sneakiness- of an above average thief. This was where the Furlyne teen learned to quickly move with actual tactic instead of raw movement and how to handle a dagger or knife, but not on actual live beings. All of the thieves' brotherhood days ended for him when one day, he was framed for killing someone when in fact, he was too afraid of thrusting the dagger into someone fatally. The bloodied dagger was grasped in his hand as he was caught, left behind by his 'brothers'.
After a few to couple of years being locked up behind bars, he was given a number of choices for jobs to choose from, all of which were military related and he was to be heavily under surveillance. It was by chance that he took up the job of apprentice technician and met his mentor, the head technician of the base. He was skeptical at the middle aged human male, mostly because he hasn't exactly experienced co-existing with beings of the other races and was he even capable of subduing him, an experienced thief? The man didn't seem to be wary of him as an ex-convict nor a being of another species, what he cared about was the boy being able to get his job done but there was a problem. He had NO idea whatsoever about these so-called 'machinery'. He was a boy literally living on the streets, there was no way he could have learned anything of the sort unless he saw one in front of him.
It took quite a long while before all the basic knowledge about machinery and technology were crammed into his brain, the Furlyne grew fond of him over the passed time, being given a proper name he actually appreciated (since the mentor couldn't call him kid all the time which was ironic to his given name), a sense of actual trust from the human, and all the machinery they were able to build and repair together. But alas, the mentor's age eventually caught up to him and led him to rest in a natural cause. Kidd, the male Furlyne, vowed to keep his teachings alive by continuing his work as a technician with his head held high.
Currently, now that everything has gone to hell on Earth, where the military he was serving was located at, Kidd was accused as a spy now that the military has been corrupted. Escape was futile as he was captured and now on his way to a death row.
Romance: Yes?
Sexual preference: No specific preference, but slightly hesitant to involve himself with other races in such a way.
Role on the ship: Technician/Mechanic
Combat Skills:
Quite a skill in daggers and knives due to the experience as a thief, movement speed to be feared of, and his quick, cunning―sneaky to be precise-, tricks, which includes pick pocketing. |
3,318 | 72 | 127 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Anastasia-Nurse Office
Anastasia sighed. She didn't want to see him die on this journey. She'd have to keep a close eye on and protect him. He still had a full life ahead. She'd need to make sure that continued.
She had to give it to him though. He reminded her of herself when she was younger, before she joined the military and the program. A stubborn ass who didn't listen to anyone. Her mouth opened and she let out a way too loud laugh, hoping no one heard her. That wasn't good for her image.
Anastasia sighed and looked at her small amount of paperwork. Maybe one day Kidd would understand. The horrors of having to gun down an innocent city and raze it still burned in her mind. She shook it out and continued on her work. Lots of paperwork to do, so little time.
Patches-Main Deck
Patches let out a hearty laugh as the two were talking in Anastasia's office. He quickly stopped it and took on a serious face. He spoke out in a commanding voice.
"Noe listen up all of ye. I am the new commander round here, so ye better listen. I will be tougher than my predecessor, and.... and... and..." Patches burst out laughing, trying to not fall on the ground. He grabbed a table, his sides hurting. "Oh me oh my. I can't fucking do it friends. I can't fucking do it."
Patches turned to Jericho and Val."Oi
What a right stuck up cunt she is, am I right? Her heart seems to be in the right place, but christ is she uptight way too much for her own good. She needs some good unwinding is what she needs am I right? Maybe we should grab a drink sometime and teach her how to relax eh? Hahahaha." | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,319 | 72 | 128 | 2,768 | 10,548 | Jericho Joranis|Starchaser Bridge
Jericho threw his hands up and backed away shaking his head, having no intention of chasing tail that might end up making him dickless. "She can be as uptight as she wants, so long as she ain't splittin' my ball sack open or just tearing 'em off. You want to rejoin the dead? Be my guest, but I like being A) alive, and B) a guy, so no thanks." Having said his piece, he headed off down the hall before deciding to stop off and check on their ever so intimidating cyborg maiden of doom. Knocking on her office door, noting that Kidd had headed down towards the engineering area, he opened it slowly. "Alright, so I want to know the full extent of the damage. Because I'm not sure our new friend has the same...motivations that you do for the job."
He waited until she said he could come in to enter, but he also wasn't sure how she was sitting and didn't want to risk seeing more than he needed to. He was positive his...gaze, back in Moscow was going to get him at least lectured. | Name (& pronunciation): Jericho Joranis
Date of Birth (& age): January 17, 25
Place of Birth: Boise, Idaho, Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 195 lbs
Appearance: Brown hair and eyes, with a lithe and muscular build. His hair is held in a combed back style and he has a scar down his left cheek that he won't tell the origin of.
Personality: He's analyictic and calculating, but also easy going, preferring to play a game of cards over yelling at each other to settle a dispute.
Likes: Music, Card Games, Foods with Kick
Dislikes: Liars, cheaters, foods that are too sweet
Ambitions: To become the best bounty hunter around, but not much else
Strengths:
-Incredibly skilled with his twin pistols and katana
-He's a good liar, which makes sense since he likes to play cards.
-He's a brilliant tactician, able to look at a situation and make a good plan.
-He knows how to cook.
Weaknesses:
-Refuses to use anything other than pistols.
-Because he's such a good liar, it's hard to tell when he's telling the truth.
-Not always the best at keeping a set plan.
-Is over confident at the worst of times.
Mandrill
Fears: Likes to live by the creedo of "Nothing to fear but Fear itself." However, he can be creeped out, especially by bugs of any kind.
Interests: Pistols and swords of all kinds, but his favorite sword is anything resembling a katana.
History: Jericho has been in space most of his life, working with his now dead father to establish a reputation as one of the best and most feared bounty hunters in known space. However, when humanity started to fall apart five years ago, that reputation became a lot more difficult to establish as the surviving humans focused on surviving and the rest of the universe either didn't concern themselves with humanity's sudden and rapid decline or sought for some way to take advantage of it. His father was killed during a skirmish with some Furlyneses. He escaped with a badly damaged ship and his father's body. Over the course of the last few years, he's sought to continue building his reputation, but also looks for the Furlyneses that killed his father.
Romance: Sure
If so, sexual preference: Straight
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Ummmm...N/A?
Combat Skills: Expert marksmen with his pistols, and a hell of a swordsman with his katana. Hand to hand expert, but he's rarely unarmed, even when he sleeps.
Additional Notes: Armor appearance: |
3,320 | 72 | 129 | 2,159 | 3,799 | Valerius | Starchaser
These were strange words to see from something that looked like a sci-fi horror movie fodder monster. He was funny though. He's had stranger comrades and clients too, so all Val was doing really was laughing too. With Jericho's response came Val's comment.
"Come on man, this guy's hysterical. You really should open your horizons, maybe make a comedy movie with this guy", before a retort could be made, Jericho had already left. He got Ana's concern for Kidd though. He too has seen many good men and women die for duty, glory, or out of their own good will. Unfortunately, good will alone is easy to take advantage of and break...
"Hm... I really thought a Rush Hour tribute would've been possible... Oh well. So you're Patches? What can you do?", he said, leaning back into his chair. There wasn't much going on right now, just mostly transit between locations. This guy was going to be part of the crew, he had a gut feeling this guy wouldn't leave quietly either, even if no one can hear your scream in space. Besides, he seemed nice. | Name: Valerius
Date of Birth (& age): January 25th, aged 25
Place of Birth: Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Personality: Incompetent, absolutely, is what most think about him, but they still rely on him, simply because he's incredibly good at getting a job done even though he's such a good for nothing. He's driven more by the morality behind things to act, doing what is right, it's strange coming from someone who was once a space pirate, but that's how he was taught. Space pirate captain guy was a good guy. As a result he's kind of snarky and a little petty, he'll do some pretty dastardly things from time to time.
Likes: Sweet foods, and junk food, and food. He like food but usually sweets.
Dislikes: Ghosts (you can't hit ghosts)
Ambitions: None
Strengths:
- Close quarters combat he is said to be unmatched.
- Incredible speed, strength and endurance... And skill
- Most effective against humanoid warriors and fighters.
Weaknesses:
- Skilled ranged fighters can give him a hard time.
- He's kind of useless with any other weapon.
- Least effective against monster types.
Fears: That ghosts may be real.
Interests: Finding the perfect confectionery.
History: Born on earth, then became a space pirate, then became a space mercenary for any job. That's a quick summary. The long one is he learned swordsmanship from the space pirates, the captain was a good man, but many years later he would die at the hands of government officials, whom he would later fight. Unfortunately as a result of his recklessness, he became the last of the crew to survive, and his twin red laser blades were destroyed. He didn't serve time as a criminal though, since he managed to escape, and settle down in a random part of space. He worked from then on in random jobs, avoiding criminal activity, as that would attract people of the government. He became low profile enough, until one day he was forced into being hired (or blackmailed) by the military. Some stuff happened and then he was thrown into cryosleep for some reason.
Romance: Maybe...? I dunno.
If so, sexual preference: Dude's straight as an arrow
Military Rank: None (auxiliary captain when he was hired by some forces)
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Captain
Combat Skills:
- Super fast learning capacity: Unique to him is his ability to learn incredibly fast during combat. He once was on a job to destroy a living weapon, and ended up out-learning it, allowing him to best it in combat. If he's not stronger than you when you fight him, he will be once he's done.
- Swordsmanship: He's learned countless different battle styles over his strange encounters over his travels and jobs, but he prefers twin blades. He's known to be able to use any kind of sword, since he's seen almost every single type so far.
- Insane Durability: He's managed to baffle almost every race he's come across because he's gotten up from the most ridiculous wounds and kept fighting.
- The Crimson Scourge: He had signature twin red laser blades when he was a space pirate. Those blades are now destroyed, ever since the end of the pirates he once commandeered. |
3,321 | 72 | 130 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Patches-Main Deck
Patches inched closer and closer to Val's ears. He got quite close, his miniature mandibles clicking and clacking. He opened his mouth. Emerging from his mouth was the parasite turned symbiote. It too opened it's mouth. t
The voice that came from spoke a slightly higher tone than patches.
"To be honest mate, I don't fucking know."Patches fell back, laughing his head off, almost quite literally. "Sorry friend. I quite had to do that. The idea came to me from an ancient movie and I wanted to see how fun it would be. Seems it was quite fun. Anyhow, enough fucking around. I really don't fucking know though. My super cool powers are a mystery it seems. More super fun adventure for us though huh? Discovery is always the funnest adventure,
."
Anastasia-Nurse Office
The door creaked and Jericho entered like a scared child. Ana sighed. She wasn't that scary. Oh well. Whatever they thought of her was fine. Her legs stayed propped up as she invited him into the room. Comfortability over decency.
She spoke with a comforting tone, a change from her normal voice.
Listen Jericho. I understand your concerns, but i've already tested him and he has aced all his tests. He is a marksman with guns and he is more than capable of close quarters combat. Despite his mental state he can make great decisions from what i've seen. Besides, he saved all of our lives. We have thanks to him for that. On the note of my health, I won't be able to join you guys for any non necessary combat soon. They'll drop me on my ass fast if I try. I'm out. If I get hit again in the gut that'll fuck me over for good. As for radiation, it's all over in my body. The doctors say i'm lucky my organs haven't shut down yet. I say it's my Russian blood. Can't keep us down. Lastly, as for back in Russia, do not worry about it. You did what you had to, even if it was uncomfortable. Now come, sit down. You can hide in here for the time being while we orbit, unless you wan't to go comfort Val and his obssession with you eh?" | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,322 | 72 | 131 | 2,768 | 10,548 | Jericho Joranis|Starchaser Head Nurse Office
"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll stay away from mister Valerius lest I end up shooting him in the face. The actor jokes aren't funny anymore." Entering and averting his eyes from her propped up position, he takes a seat in a corner out of the way and pulls out one of his pistols, reloading the spent ammo and then emptying it and taking the weapon apart to clean it up. As he worked, he looked over at Ana every now and then, trying to gauge just how out of it she was.
It was easy to say that she'd taken the worst of it during the fight with the giant spider. And even if she was Russian, there was a whole hell of a lot that she might show if she thought no one was paying attention. | Name (& pronunciation): Jericho Joranis
Date of Birth (& age): January 17, 25
Place of Birth: Boise, Idaho, Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 195 lbs
Appearance: Brown hair and eyes, with a lithe and muscular build. His hair is held in a combed back style and he has a scar down his left cheek that he won't tell the origin of.
Personality: He's analyictic and calculating, but also easy going, preferring to play a game of cards over yelling at each other to settle a dispute.
Likes: Music, Card Games, Foods with Kick
Dislikes: Liars, cheaters, foods that are too sweet
Ambitions: To become the best bounty hunter around, but not much else
Strengths:
-Incredibly skilled with his twin pistols and katana
-He's a good liar, which makes sense since he likes to play cards.
-He's a brilliant tactician, able to look at a situation and make a good plan.
-He knows how to cook.
Weaknesses:
-Refuses to use anything other than pistols.
-Because he's such a good liar, it's hard to tell when he's telling the truth.
-Not always the best at keeping a set plan.
-Is over confident at the worst of times.
Mandrill
Fears: Likes to live by the creedo of "Nothing to fear but Fear itself." However, he can be creeped out, especially by bugs of any kind.
Interests: Pistols and swords of all kinds, but his favorite sword is anything resembling a katana.
History: Jericho has been in space most of his life, working with his now dead father to establish a reputation as one of the best and most feared bounty hunters in known space. However, when humanity started to fall apart five years ago, that reputation became a lot more difficult to establish as the surviving humans focused on surviving and the rest of the universe either didn't concern themselves with humanity's sudden and rapid decline or sought for some way to take advantage of it. His father was killed during a skirmish with some Furlyneses. He escaped with a badly damaged ship and his father's body. Over the course of the last few years, he's sought to continue building his reputation, but also looks for the Furlyneses that killed his father.
Romance: Sure
If so, sexual preference: Straight
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Ummmm...N/A?
Combat Skills: Expert marksmen with his pistols, and a hell of a swordsman with his katana. Hand to hand expert, but he's rarely unarmed, even when he sleeps.
Additional Notes: Armor appearance: |
3,323 | 72 | 132 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Anastasia-The Start
Anastasia sighed. She saw the man sit in a corner, pull out his gun and start cleaning it. She may have loved fighting, but she didn't want others weapons in her office. She spoke up.
"Mr. Jericho. If you would please, try not to brandish weapons in here. If they see so much as a knife they'll have my ass. Please be careful with that. It'll be a pain trying to explain it. And of co..."
The ship creaked and shuttered, as if hit by debris. That was odd however. They were in a safe space in orbit. Nothing should have hit them. The only thing that could've caused that was... Shit.
She quickly broke her own request to Jericho not to have any weapons in the office. She reached under her desk, grabbing the rather large weapon. It was folded in three. She snapped it together, the entire gun reaching about the size of herself. She sighed again. Now she looked like quite the hypocrite. She spoke up.
"Mr Jericho. Follow me. We're going down to investigate the engine bay. Cover my back. I don't want a hole in my back and my gut. Keep an eye out. We may have a good fight kn our hands."
She booted up her radio to Valerius. "Captain. Take Patches and investigate the front of the ship. Please check the comms and navigation systems. I fear we aren't alone anymore in this orbit. Me and Jericho are going to check the engine. Ana out."
They treaded down the hallway. The engine roome quickly came upon them. She nodded to Jericho. She gave the signal to breach when ready. Her gun was locked, loaded and ready to roll. | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,324 | 72 | 133 | 2,768 | 10,548 | Jericho Joranis|Starchaser-Hall outside the engine room
Jericho had followed Ana as she asked, but he intended to keep her out of any direct combat as much as possible, since he'd rather deal with her than have to adjust to dealing with their spider possessed friend. That still didn't sit will with him, that big baddy back in Russia bringing the dead back to life. Focus, moral issues that animals don't consider can be thought on later. Drawing both pistols versus the one he'd carried down the hall as they moved, he braced himself against the wall and counted to three before sliding the door open and moving inside. And of course, he found himself staring down a group of about ten pirates. "Not my day."
While the pirates were still recovering from having someone find them so quickly, he fired off three quick shots as he dove for cover, the shots taking down three of the ten before they scrambled for cover as well. "We got boarders, Ana! Pirates by the look of things." | Name (& pronunciation): Jericho Joranis
Date of Birth (& age): January 17, 25
Place of Birth: Boise, Idaho, Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 195 lbs
Appearance: Brown hair and eyes, with a lithe and muscular build. His hair is held in a combed back style and he has a scar down his left cheek that he won't tell the origin of.
Personality: He's analyictic and calculating, but also easy going, preferring to play a game of cards over yelling at each other to settle a dispute.
Likes: Music, Card Games, Foods with Kick
Dislikes: Liars, cheaters, foods that are too sweet
Ambitions: To become the best bounty hunter around, but not much else
Strengths:
-Incredibly skilled with his twin pistols and katana
-He's a good liar, which makes sense since he likes to play cards.
-He's a brilliant tactician, able to look at a situation and make a good plan.
-He knows how to cook.
Weaknesses:
-Refuses to use anything other than pistols.
-Because he's such a good liar, it's hard to tell when he's telling the truth.
-Not always the best at keeping a set plan.
-Is over confident at the worst of times.
Mandrill
Fears: Likes to live by the creedo of "Nothing to fear but Fear itself." However, he can be creeped out, especially by bugs of any kind.
Interests: Pistols and swords of all kinds, but his favorite sword is anything resembling a katana.
History: Jericho has been in space most of his life, working with his now dead father to establish a reputation as one of the best and most feared bounty hunters in known space. However, when humanity started to fall apart five years ago, that reputation became a lot more difficult to establish as the surviving humans focused on surviving and the rest of the universe either didn't concern themselves with humanity's sudden and rapid decline or sought for some way to take advantage of it. His father was killed during a skirmish with some Furlyneses. He escaped with a badly damaged ship and his father's body. Over the course of the last few years, he's sought to continue building his reputation, but also looks for the Furlyneses that killed his father.
Romance: Sure
If so, sexual preference: Straight
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Ummmm...N/A?
Combat Skills: Expert marksmen with his pistols, and a hell of a swordsman with his katana. Hand to hand expert, but he's rarely unarmed, even when he sleeps.
Additional Notes: Armor appearance: |
3,325 | 72 | 134 | 2,159 | 3,799 | Valerius | Starchaser
"Yello... Mhm. Mhm. Front of ship. Got it", Valerius jumped up out of his chair and picked his sabers up, strapping them to their usual spot on his belt. He turned to Patches who was making himself comfortable in the corner.
"Hey Patchy, you wanna see the front of the ship?", he called over.
"DO I?!", was his response as he jumped up off his position and began crawling along the walls to the room exit, dropping down and ready to go. The two walked down to the front with jolly conversation. They didn't seem to really notice the pirates until they got to the front. They realized the view from the viewing deck was marred by a pretty big ship with edgy decoration...
"Such horrible taste in decor... Hey Patch- Hm?", as he turned around he could hear the gnashing of flesh as Patch made grotesque work of a few pirates who were coming in from behind. Valerius looked on as he saw the door open, two pirates standing there.
"Alri-...", Patch turned his face towards the pirates with blood over his face.
"Hiya!", without a word, the two pirates closed the door as if they didn't see anything. Yep. Looks like everything was under control at the front...
"Shame, they seemed like such nice people..." | Name: Valerius
Date of Birth (& age): January 25th, aged 25
Place of Birth: Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Personality: Incompetent, absolutely, is what most think about him, but they still rely on him, simply because he's incredibly good at getting a job done even though he's such a good for nothing. He's driven more by the morality behind things to act, doing what is right, it's strange coming from someone who was once a space pirate, but that's how he was taught. Space pirate captain guy was a good guy. As a result he's kind of snarky and a little petty, he'll do some pretty dastardly things from time to time.
Likes: Sweet foods, and junk food, and food. He like food but usually sweets.
Dislikes: Ghosts (you can't hit ghosts)
Ambitions: None
Strengths:
- Close quarters combat he is said to be unmatched.
- Incredible speed, strength and endurance... And skill
- Most effective against humanoid warriors and fighters.
Weaknesses:
- Skilled ranged fighters can give him a hard time.
- He's kind of useless with any other weapon.
- Least effective against monster types.
Fears: That ghosts may be real.
Interests: Finding the perfect confectionery.
History: Born on earth, then became a space pirate, then became a space mercenary for any job. That's a quick summary. The long one is he learned swordsmanship from the space pirates, the captain was a good man, but many years later he would die at the hands of government officials, whom he would later fight. Unfortunately as a result of his recklessness, he became the last of the crew to survive, and his twin red laser blades were destroyed. He didn't serve time as a criminal though, since he managed to escape, and settle down in a random part of space. He worked from then on in random jobs, avoiding criminal activity, as that would attract people of the government. He became low profile enough, until one day he was forced into being hired (or blackmailed) by the military. Some stuff happened and then he was thrown into cryosleep for some reason.
Romance: Maybe...? I dunno.
If so, sexual preference: Dude's straight as an arrow
Military Rank: None (auxiliary captain when he was hired by some forces)
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Captain
Combat Skills:
- Super fast learning capacity: Unique to him is his ability to learn incredibly fast during combat. He once was on a job to destroy a living weapon, and ended up out-learning it, allowing him to best it in combat. If he's not stronger than you when you fight him, he will be once he's done.
- Swordsmanship: He's learned countless different battle styles over his strange encounters over his travels and jobs, but he prefers twin blades. He's known to be able to use any kind of sword, since he's seen almost every single type so far.
- Insane Durability: He's managed to baffle almost every race he's come across because he's gotten up from the most ridiculous wounds and kept fighting.
- The Crimson Scourge: He had signature twin red laser blades when he was a space pirate. Those blades are now destroyed, ever since the end of the pirates he once commandeered. |
3,326 | 72 | 135 | 1,048 | 840 | Alastair - Kitchen
As he was getting kicked from the room, he was going to reply with the ole 'Was it something I've said?' line usually found in shows in comics after a character says something un-agreeable and what not, but missed his chance as he was removed from the room and didn't have time for a rebuttal. Well, with goal done, it was time for him to leave. Deciding to head back towards the kitchen, he made a move to go when he passed by Jericho.
Pausing for a moment, he glanced at him. It was there Alastair was reminded of those scenes in manga where the stories hero or heroine would wait for everyone to leave or wait until no one is around and then go to/meet up with their target of 'affection' in secret when alone. He didn't quite understand human intimacy or whatever, but if what he has seen in manga, it is likely Jericho has gone to meet with Ana to preform the 'Mating Ritual' ceremony. He was curious about it and wanted help understanding it, but decided against it.
Turning his head back around, Alastair proceeded to the kitchen and find himself something to do. Arriving at the kitchen, he started selecting random ingredients and started chopping them with a knife. What he was going to make was anyone's guess, but what the others kitchen didn't know, was that there was a character in one manga who did just that. Randomly taking whatever they could find and making something with it. Unfortunately, he didn't get to finish his future creation as it was interrupted by the sounds of screaming and bodies dropping to the ground.
Looking up, he could see a group of strange men attacking his comrades. The look of these strange group seemed to resembled something out of a comic he read. Given their rough looks and some similar traits, if they had a name it would be Bandits or better yet Pirates, Pirates would probably be more accurate. Space is littered with beings like them, after all. Just as another one of his comrades was about to fall victim to these men, he took the knife that was in his hand and threw it at the man going in for the killing blow, sending the knife straight in-between his eyes.
His action caught the other pirates off guard as they stopped and looked at him. Given the initial shock and surprise, it's safe to assume they haven't come across one like himself before. Though, that quickly became moot when they started looking like Ana. Angry....Huh? Becoming the new focus of their attacks, he rushed forward and targeted their weapons with his knives to give those who are still able to move to escape. Alastair, Getting in close, with his ever present smile, grabbed the nearest man's arm and pulled the pirate in front of him, treating the pirate as a human shield.
Such an action wasn't needed considering their attacks wouldn't killed a being such as himself, but he has seen this situation in manga quite often and has been wanting to try it. As the pirates attacks rained down on his meat shield, he re-called another thing he wanted to try. With a free arm, he grabbed the pirates head and, with some assistance from his lovely knife, ripped it right off, much to the horror of the other pirates. Straight from a panel of a manga, he flashed a chilling grin as he stuffed something in the heads mouth and tossed it at the pirates. Tick Tick. | Name: Alastair (Al-la-ster)
Date of Birth: August? 5th?
Place of Birth: Black Hole, Duh.
Gender: ???
Species: Unnamed
Height: 6'0
Weight: How much do you think a mass of black energy would weight?
Personality:
His personality changes depending what 'character' he wishes to portray, though, most of the time he acts as a butler should, dedicated, faithful, strong sense of duty, etc.....or at least tries to. Like expected of his race, due to not really fully understanding human emotions, he tends to act in a passive manner, though he tries, with only comics, books and such to rely upon. Upon study of certain types of humans, he 'picked up' on replying to people, mostly ones who don't do what they're supposed to be doing/not doing their listed job is, in a sarcastic/rude manner.
Likes:
The different variety/character types of Humans (lets just say he likes humanity)
Reading/Books (be it comics/manga, novels, or whatever)
Music (especially of old Asian influence)
Learning new things
Dislikes:
People that act out of character (despite not having a specific character himself)
Freeloaders
Those that don't do what they're supposed to be doing
Ambitions:
"If" he has one, it's probably to discover and read various texts or histories of various cultures, no matter the topic. Whenever asked about anything relating to goals, he always manages to side-step or find a way around the question, either by not answering at all or saying something different each time (like imitating a character's, that he has read, dream).
Strengths:
One Hell Of A Butler - With his extensive knowledge of the way of the butler, or at least what he knows from all that he has read from comics at least, he can cook, clean and well, do chores. Let's just say butler like things. A butler like no other! or something.
He's good with his hands - Like all butlers, being good with ones hands is key. Whether it's cutting or punching something or even throwing things at people, he can do it.
Mighty butler - Other than being a damn fine butler, stemming from the previous one, he excels at fighting. With great physical strength, his fists are his weapon of choice in close quarters combat and kitchen utensils/cutlery for long range.
Weaknesses:
Useless with a gun, he's not too fond of them anyways
While he can cook, he never cooks what people ask of him. The food he cooks and delivers tends to be quite random. Whether he intentionally ignores their food order or never takes the time to learn the names of certain dishes, no one will ever know. Not like anyone hasn't tried.
Fears:
Incomplete Characters
Not going through with a certain character type
Poor character portrayals
Interests:
History
Mythology (especially of Irish, Roman, Greek and Asian)
Foreign Culture (especially the concept of butlers and maids)
Mixing/changing up his character, speech and actions to see the various reactions people give him. Tends to act sarcastic and rude when he does.
Reading
Book collecting
History: Unknown, he just showed up and made it seem natural that he was there.
Romance: No
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Combat Butler
Combat Skills:
Smashing things and using sharp objects.
On a serious note (well it was kind of serious), he's very adaptable (not taking long to adjust to something new), sharp reflexes and has a talent at using weapons, except for guns. Though, when it comes to using knives and all sorts of kitchen utensils (and throwing daggers), he's a master.
Oh, he got crazy strength and likes smashing things, for real. |
3,327 | 72 | 136 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Anastasia- Channeling the Inner Rage
Anastasia fell in behind Jericho as he breached the door. She threw her gun as hard as she could at one of the seven remaining pirates. It hurtled, shattering the skull of the pirate and sending him into the nearby wall, splattering the brains against the steel. She grabbed another one nearby, shattering his legs with her own so he couldn't escape. She let out a loud roar, and grabbed his lower mandible with her right hand and his upper skull with her right. She tugged as hard as she could, screaming while pulling it apart. It only took seconds before the audible creaks of the jaw became apparent. The pirate tried screaming, but he was too preoccupied with receiving a wider opening in his mouth. The snaps came quick, the jaw unhinging and hanging by only the skin of his head. The motors whirred in her mechanical arms and she pulled harder. Within milliseconds, the two parts of the jaw ripped apart, his mandible shattering against the floor and his upper half coming from his head and shattering against the wall, next to the already dead pirate.
Anastasia looked at the next one, and pointed him out, looking at the fear in his face. She grabbed him before he could run and shoved her hand down his throat. Grasping at what she could grab, she held tight and yanked upwards. Out came his stomach, along with a gratuitous amount of blood, all spraying upwards. She discarded the body and the unneeded organs, Looking around while Jericho finished off the rest remaining in the engine rooms. She called out.
"Kidd! Kidd are you here?"
She kept looking around for him. | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,328 | 72 | 137 | 2,768 | 10,548 | Jericho Joranis|Engine Room
Jericho was too busy exchanging fire with the remaining four pirates to really pay attention to the express details of what Ana was doing, and silently, from the amount of bone crunching sounds coming from over there, he was grateful. However, the four pirates lacked Jericho's common sense and looked towards the source of the sickening sounds, and that was the opening that Jericho needed. Rolling over his cover, he holsters both his pistols and draws his katana as he closes with the first pirate, the laser edge springing to life as it leaves the sheath to slice through the man from shoulder to hip, leaving the two halves smoking as they fall to the ground. He moves to close with the second one, but realizes that he won't make it before they guy recovers. So he draws one pistol and slides towards him, firing three shots. The first two hit the man's assault rifle as he brought it to bear, knocking it free of his grip. The third hit his right shoulder, stumbling him back as Jericho closed the rest of the distance.
Bringing the sword to his side, Jericho slices through the pirate's gut, cleaving him in two like his buddy before. The top half falls forward and the legs continue with a backwards fall. Two down, two to go. Another assault rifle and a shotgun force the bounty hunter back into cover. They likely weren't going to let him get close enough to use his sword again, so he sheathed it and drew the other pistol, trying to figure out how he was going to get at them. Then he remembered he packed smoke grenades on him.
"Poppin' smoke!" Pulling one free of it's place on his belt, he tossed it into the middle of the area between him and the pirates and, after a couple of seconds, a thick smoke cloud was released. The pirates, unable to see their enemy, eased their way out of cover as Jericho leapt on top of his then up on the ceiling. The one with the shotgun looked around frantically.
"Where'd he go, Bill? I can't see anything?" The one with the assault rifle, Bill, was looking and sounding just as frantic.
"I don't know, Jeb, I can't see anything either. Just keep yo-" Bill suddenly fell silent and Jeb turned towards where his voice had been coming from. But the smoke was keeping him from seeing much.
"B-Bill? You there? Please tell me you stopped talkin' cause you saw him." Jeb moved towards his companion, turning circles as he walked. At least, until he heard the sound of a laser edge activate behind him.
"You fellas picked the wrong ship to hit." As the pirate tried to turn and get a shot off, the bounty hunter rammed his katana's tip through the man's head and tore the edge out his face, letting the body slump as the smoke started to clear up. "All clear." | Name (& pronunciation): Jericho Joranis
Date of Birth (& age): January 17, 25
Place of Birth: Boise, Idaho, Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 195 lbs
Appearance: Brown hair and eyes, with a lithe and muscular build. His hair is held in a combed back style and he has a scar down his left cheek that he won't tell the origin of.
Personality: He's analyictic and calculating, but also easy going, preferring to play a game of cards over yelling at each other to settle a dispute.
Likes: Music, Card Games, Foods with Kick
Dislikes: Liars, cheaters, foods that are too sweet
Ambitions: To become the best bounty hunter around, but not much else
Strengths:
-Incredibly skilled with his twin pistols and katana
-He's a good liar, which makes sense since he likes to play cards.
-He's a brilliant tactician, able to look at a situation and make a good plan.
-He knows how to cook.
Weaknesses:
-Refuses to use anything other than pistols.
-Because he's such a good liar, it's hard to tell when he's telling the truth.
-Not always the best at keeping a set plan.
-Is over confident at the worst of times.
Mandrill
Fears: Likes to live by the creedo of "Nothing to fear but Fear itself." However, he can be creeped out, especially by bugs of any kind.
Interests: Pistols and swords of all kinds, but his favorite sword is anything resembling a katana.
History: Jericho has been in space most of his life, working with his now dead father to establish a reputation as one of the best and most feared bounty hunters in known space. However, when humanity started to fall apart five years ago, that reputation became a lot more difficult to establish as the surviving humans focused on surviving and the rest of the universe either didn't concern themselves with humanity's sudden and rapid decline or sought for some way to take advantage of it. His father was killed during a skirmish with some Furlyneses. He escaped with a badly damaged ship and his father's body. Over the course of the last few years, he's sought to continue building his reputation, but also looks for the Furlyneses that killed his father.
Romance: Sure
If so, sexual preference: Straight
Military Rank: N/A
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Ummmm...N/A?
Combat Skills: Expert marksmen with his pistols, and a hell of a swordsman with his katana. Hand to hand expert, but he's rarely unarmed, even when he sleeps.
Additional Notes: Armor appearance: |
3,329 | 72 | 138 | 119 | 740 | Once the engine room fell silent of anything but the 'not so panicking anymore' chatters of the other tied up engineers, a small compartment of one of the machinery in the room opened itself. Pop goes the feline boy from his hiding spot, checking if all the violent racket was over. A sharp screwdriver was tightly gripped in his trembling hands, a make-do trusty weapon of a technician. He waved his head around to check the prenises for any remaining pirates to find Ana and Jericho.
"Boy am I glad to see ya two, thought we were gonna be goners when those filthy pirates barged in like they owned the place! Serves them right but ack, the bloody mess, I can't get used ta them." The Furlyne covered his mouth with his hand to force in whatever might have gone up his throat before turning back to Ana, his gaze averting to the side as he spoke. "I guess I shoulda apologize for ma attitude back there. But I ain't changin' my mind about stayin', ya got that? | Name (& pronunciation): Kidd (KI-D) (Previously classified only as Prisoner #0715, new proper name given by mentor)
Date of Birth (& age): June 10, 42 years old (21 in human time measurement)
Place of Birth: Home planet of the Furlynes
Gender: Male
Species: Furlynes
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 52 kg
Personality:
The "straight man" of the group, which is not to be taken literally, specifically pertaining to the person who retorts to a dumb remark made by another. Due to being a Furlynes, he is usually reluctant towards beings of the other races, with the exemption of the former head technician of the military base he worked at, thus his retort against them are blunt if not sarcastic. While being such a character, he can be quite mischievous when time for being serious isn't called for, a trait he kept from his past on his home planet. "Geek" doesn't exactly suit his character but the Furlynes is pretty cunning and clever, in the long past used as his tools for his thievery, now put to good use on the ship as an assistant technician/mechanic which he now takes pride in. But the geek part is somewhat evident when he scolds crew members for destroying components of the ship, vital or not.
Likes: Aroma of freshly brewed coffee Warm mug of milk Taking naps in calm, serene environment Challenging mechanical repairs Feeling of newly polished tools
Dislikes: Being compared to a mere Earth cat Noise/Intrusion interrupting his work Crew members that frequently destroy the ship Busted mechanical equipment he cannot fix with his current skills and knowledge People bad mouthing towards his late mentor
Ambitions:
To be able to achieve further in the mechanical and technical field, even more than his mentor, the former technician of the ship.
To advance the features of the current ship that even his mentor would be proud of.
Strengths: Swift movement speed due to his light weight Mechanical and technical literacy
Weaknesses: Heavy physical activities that can be strenuous to the body, since he has a fairly thin build Feeling helpless after admitting he cannot repair specific damaged machinery
Fears: Being captured and put into custody Losing his memento of his mentor, a rusty old wrench
Interests: Machinery and technology Space aircrafts and their composition
History:
Being born to a pair of Furlyne parents who were in an unfortunate situation financially, the infant was abandoned on the streets only to be sheltered by various shop keepers of the public market, where he had been left by his parents. The Furlyne boy grew up with different names from each of the caretakers, none to his liking so he stuck with neither. He was a mischievous type of child, causing little troubles here and there, stealing small things that got him nothing but more trouble even with his fast feet. Seeing that this would not work for him in the future, he sought out a way to not be caught. And there it was, the infamous bunch of thieves of the town.
Since he was not welcome in the shop keepers' households anymore due to his bad habit of stealing, he moved into the thieves' hideout at the outskirts of town. But these were not common thieves, they had the skills and smarts―or rephrased as sneakiness- of an above average thief. This was where the Furlyne teen learned to quickly move with actual tactic instead of raw movement and how to handle a dagger or knife, but not on actual live beings. All of the thieves' brotherhood days ended for him when one day, he was framed for killing someone when in fact, he was too afraid of thrusting the dagger into someone fatally. The bloodied dagger was grasped in his hand as he was caught, left behind by his 'brothers'.
After a few to couple of years being locked up behind bars, he was given a number of choices for jobs to choose from, all of which were military related and he was to be heavily under surveillance. It was by chance that he took up the job of apprentice technician and met his mentor, the head technician of the base. He was skeptical at the middle aged human male, mostly because he hasn't exactly experienced co-existing with beings of the other races and was he even capable of subduing him, an experienced thief? The man didn't seem to be wary of him as an ex-convict nor a being of another species, what he cared about was the boy being able to get his job done but there was a problem. He had NO idea whatsoever about these so-called 'machinery'. He was a boy literally living on the streets, there was no way he could have learned anything of the sort unless he saw one in front of him.
It took quite a long while before all the basic knowledge about machinery and technology were crammed into his brain, the Furlyne grew fond of him over the passed time, being given a proper name he actually appreciated (since the mentor couldn't call him kid all the time which was ironic to his given name), a sense of actual trust from the human, and all the machinery they were able to build and repair together. But alas, the mentor's age eventually caught up to him and led him to rest in a natural cause. Kidd, the male Furlyne, vowed to keep his teachings alive by continuing his work as a technician with his head held high.
Currently, now that everything has gone to hell on Earth, where the military he was serving was located at, Kidd was accused as a spy now that the military has been corrupted. Escape was futile as he was captured and now on his way to a death row.
Romance: Yes?
Sexual preference: No specific preference, but slightly hesitant to involve himself with other races in such a way.
Role on the ship: Technician/Mechanic
Combat Skills:
Quite a skill in daggers and knives due to the experience as a thief, movement speed to be feared of, and his quick, cunning―sneaky to be precise-, tricks, which includes pick pocketing. |
3,330 | 72 | 139 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Anastasia-Blast It Out of the Sky
The pirates were cleared out of the back. Good. All that was left was to clear the corpses, but they could do that later. Ana shook her metal limbs, splattering the blood and viscera from her arms onto the ground, making a nice sloshing sound. She pointed at Kidd.
"Kidd. Follow me. Neither of us are in shape to do any fighting. Not anymore anyways. Jericho. Check the bottom cargo bay for any more pirates. Make sure our supplies are still good as well."
Ana tapped on her radio, connecting to Val.
"Val, are there anymore pirates on board at your end? If not, divert power from engines and power up weapons to blow them out of the sky. We can salvage whatever they drop after we blow it up. Understood? Good. I'm taking the engineers down to my office. I'll be up there shortly."
Anastasia-Blast It Out of the Sky
Anastasia finished putting the crew into her office. Kidd and the rest of the engineers. They were safe and the door was sealed. She picked up her legs to increase the pace with her gun slung around her back. She reached the front of the ship, addressing Val.
"Val. What's the status on the rest of the pirates? Have they all been killed? Have you powered down the engines and put power into the guns yet?" | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,331 | 72 | 140 | 2,159 | 3,799 | Valerius | Starchaser
"So over there is the Orion's Belt, apparently it used to have more stars based on some books, but now it's missing a few. Then here is another constellation, I forgot what it was called",
"That's the Aquila constellation captain",
"Oh right, Aquila", Val and Patches were just sitting in the front deck with two of the invading pirates sitting between them, there was a noticeable feeling of fear simply emanating from the two pirates. From the area around them you can see slashed corpses and absolutely destroyed bodies courtesy of Patches. It appears that some more pirates came in and thought in larger numbers they could take these two on, well they were wrong and the last two decided to give up. After awhile, Ana called over the communications.
"All dead? Power to the guns...? Oh right, the guns...", he turned to Patches who was still speaking to the pirates.
"Now see, over there is the Aquarius",
"Hey Patches, let's power up the guns",
"Oh? We going to blast that ugly pirate ship to smithereens? Smithereens, that's what you people say right?",
"Yeah, but I prefer 'to the next Monday'", the two got up and just left the two pirates there, fear-struck, talking as they left.
"Next Monday? How does that work? Why Monday?", Patches hit the switch to open the door as Val stepped through.
"I thought it'd be like hell, you know, no one likes Mondays",
"Oh yeah, I totally get that. Now, every Monday that damn queen spider would always...", and thus the door shut behind them.
"These people are monsters..."
"Jake, I'm... Absolutely convinced that... One of them really is a... Monster..." | Name: Valerius
Date of Birth (& age): January 25th, aged 25
Place of Birth: Earth
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Personality: Incompetent, absolutely, is what most think about him, but they still rely on him, simply because he's incredibly good at getting a job done even though he's such a good for nothing. He's driven more by the morality behind things to act, doing what is right, it's strange coming from someone who was once a space pirate, but that's how he was taught. Space pirate captain guy was a good guy. As a result he's kind of snarky and a little petty, he'll do some pretty dastardly things from time to time.
Likes: Sweet foods, and junk food, and food. He like food but usually sweets.
Dislikes: Ghosts (you can't hit ghosts)
Ambitions: None
Strengths:
- Close quarters combat he is said to be unmatched.
- Incredible speed, strength and endurance... And skill
- Most effective against humanoid warriors and fighters.
Weaknesses:
- Skilled ranged fighters can give him a hard time.
- He's kind of useless with any other weapon.
- Least effective against monster types.
Fears: That ghosts may be real.
Interests: Finding the perfect confectionery.
History: Born on earth, then became a space pirate, then became a space mercenary for any job. That's a quick summary. The long one is he learned swordsmanship from the space pirates, the captain was a good man, but many years later he would die at the hands of government officials, whom he would later fight. Unfortunately as a result of his recklessness, he became the last of the crew to survive, and his twin red laser blades were destroyed. He didn't serve time as a criminal though, since he managed to escape, and settle down in a random part of space. He worked from then on in random jobs, avoiding criminal activity, as that would attract people of the government. He became low profile enough, until one day he was forced into being hired (or blackmailed) by the military. Some stuff happened and then he was thrown into cryosleep for some reason.
Romance: Maybe...? I dunno.
If so, sexual preference: Dude's straight as an arrow
Military Rank: None (auxiliary captain when he was hired by some forces)
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship: Captain
Combat Skills:
- Super fast learning capacity: Unique to him is his ability to learn incredibly fast during combat. He once was on a job to destroy a living weapon, and ended up out-learning it, allowing him to best it in combat. If he's not stronger than you when you fight him, he will be once he's done.
- Swordsmanship: He's learned countless different battle styles over his strange encounters over his travels and jobs, but he prefers twin blades. He's known to be able to use any kind of sword, since he's seen almost every single type so far.
- Insane Durability: He's managed to baffle almost every race he's come across because he's gotten up from the most ridiculous wounds and kept fighting.
- The Crimson Scourge: He had signature twin red laser blades when he was a space pirate. Those blades are now destroyed, ever since the end of the pirates he once commandeered. |
3,332 | 72 | 141 | 2,348 | 2,332 | Anastasia-Starchaser
Anastasia kicked the metal door open, stomping on the bridge, her metal legs clanking on the floor. No pirates were left, all slaughtered. She laughed, none of them stood a chance. The blood was splattered all over the floor. She walked briskly to the weapons chair.
"This is how you do it. Watch."
She sat down in the chair and powered up the weapons. The hum soothed her, and she focused. One shot, two shot, three shot. She unloaded laser after laser after laser on the ship and poke holes in it like cheese, watching it start to twist in an odd way. The ship lit up, and exploded, the scraps and dead bodies floating in space. She laughed again. The next order of business was to gather up the main part of the crew and talk to them again.
Anastasia-Bridge of the Starchaser
Ana paced back and forth in front of the crew. Her face had a somber tone, after the discoveries they made on the ship.
"We have a few casualties on our ship now. We found some of our crew, mostly engineers and doctors, dead. Their organs were strung up around the ship, paraded like decorations. We have two choices as of now.We can continue on with our previous objectives, making contact with the supposed last bustling city on earth, or we can head back to Eden, rest, and recruit some more crew. It's a sad day today, but we can make it better. I'll let you decide captain. Would you prefer to immediately relax or would you like to finish our objective and then relax. The rest of you can speak up as well. We have all the time to decide." | Name (& pronunciation): Anastasia
Date of Birth (& age): 2280, 25 years old
Place of Birth: Russia
Gender: Female
Species:Human
Height: 195 cm, 6'5"
Weight: 200 lbs, 92 kg
Personality:Anastasia is a very serious person, not allowing crew to fall off track and get distracted. She makes sure everyone does their duty and not get lazy about work.
Likes: Battle, Work, Her homeland.
Dislikes: Slackers, people who abandon their loyalties.
Ambitions: To find out the cause of humanity's impending extinction.
Strengths: Her melee skills, Ship weapons.
Weaknesses: Accusations of being disloyal, her strict code of conduct.
Fears: Not achieving her goals, being accused of being weaker for being a female.
Interests: nothing.
History:Anastasia is the only female in the Earth based Super Soldier Program, being elected by the higher ups in the Russian military. She was laughed at all through training, but earned everyone's respect and honor simply through her hard work alone.
Romance: (Yes or No)
If so, sexual preference: Bisexual.
Military Rank: Rogue Agent
If not military rank, what is your role on the ship:
Combat Skills:Melee, energy blasts. |
3,333 | 73 | 0 | 1,128 | 79 | King Levarticus III wasn't happy. Every single one of the Five Knights were dead. So why wasn't there a sword with ANY of them??? He was currently pacing in his throne room, his black armor clinking at the joints as he did so. The frustrated king finally told the guard at the door to fetch the royal soothsayer. He was getting impatient as the woman walked into the room. She was a full head and shoulders shorter than him, and was hunched over with an old grey hooded cloak covering her.
"You called, your Lordship?" She asked, her voice scratchy and betraying her old age. King Levarticus sat at his throne and nodded slightly. "Yes. I assume the reason you are late is you were checking the future to see if I was angry at you?"
The old woman gulped. She had of course been late because of her aging body not being what it used to be, but she couldn't give him that for an answer. "Y-yes M'lord." She lied, hoping that he would not be angered by this lie. He noticed, but decided not to press the issue further. "Whatever the case, I wish to know the location of the Swords. Can you or can't you show me anything pertaining to them?"
"Sir, with all due respect, I am a soothsayer. I only tell the future, I cannot see locations I have never been to!" The woman stuttered out fearfully.
"Well then..." King Levarticus III sighed and snapped his fingers. A large man in pique physical condition with a large sword stepped out from the shadows and proceeded to behead the old woman. "Pity... She was three days away from retirement." the man said, then laughed heartlessly as he wiped his sword clean. "But you Majesty, I have heard rumors tell that there is a cave in Harocrint that no one has ever escaped once entering. something about a beast of unimaginable strength guarding it's treasure if the barkeep whom told my men was right. Of course I killed the fool, but we don't know how many people he told before he died. Perhaps we should send a search party? Might I suggest Lady Valis?"
The King listened intently to his Second in Command. "I take it Lady Valis has a battalion ready to depart then?"
"You know me too well. Everything is ready for her departure. Shall I give the word?"
"By all means. Hire another Soothsayer. And tell Lady Valis... I will not accept failure." | Name: King Levarticus III of the Kravenfriht Empire.
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown, as he has survived longer than thought humanly possible.
Nation of birth: Kravenfriht
Appearance: A man obsessed with black armor, he wears a dark and foreboding piece of it on every inch of himself when in public, and his eyes are blood red at the iris. In a more modern world, he would be regarded as looking like a metal version of the Dark Knight (ironically). see image below:
Personality: Cold and Calculating, it would do you well to not have him shout at you, but it's worse when he's so mad he whispers. He will order his servants to do anything to accomplish his goals, even kill their comrades, and disobedience is not tolerated among his Personal Guard, even if the order is to kill a friend.
Valuable possessions: His Sword of the Knight of Five of Kravenfriht
Short History: As a child, he was looked down on and told he would never amount to anything. Naturally this lead to him wanting to prove everyone wrong. He enlisted in the army at an early age and once he got close to the King of Kravenfriht, he slaughtered him, then took command of the kingdom. He didn't stop there, making sure to allow no one to surpass him, he researched the Knight of Five of Kravenfriht's weakness and exploited it in order to kill him and obtain the Sword he possessed, then demanded absolute servitude after conquering the five Nations with well placed sneak attacks. his terms are simple. Serve him, or the trade routes to your Nation are cut off. permanently.
Sword Power 1: Longevity of life. no one knows for how long, or if this is permanent
Sword Power 2: Enhanced Durability. no ordinary unarmed combatant has ever beat him.
Sword Power 3: Unknown to anyone but his (current) head of the army (he goes through several a year)
Sword appearance: |
3,334 | 73 | 1 | 1,118 | 5,649 | Angelo whistled a tune as he walked through the plains enjoying his walk towards the treasure. Angelo was at the tavern when the barkeep was talking about a great treasure he didn't really care about a guardian protecting it but that simply meant that the treasure was worth taking! Angelo was simply enjoying himself as he wondered around looking for some treasure and apparently it came out of the mouth of a barkeep. Angelo remembered his family back home and he started to remember an old song they used to sing down the mines about dealing with a drunk miner. It was Angelo favorite song...
Angelo was walking through the plains carrying his lance and wearing his fathers black single sleeve coat simply enjoying his journey to where he was told the treasure would be, where was the point in going after treasure if he couldn't enjoy the journey itself... | Name: Angelo Ortega
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Nation of birth: Fravkoan
Personality: a joker of sorts always able to make a smart mouthed comment on most things. He also hates rules and doesn't listen to authority figures whatsoever. He is a rebel and listens to those who he considers worthy of his respect despite his normal rebel attitude he is actually very loyal when he puts his trust in someone it just rarely happens. He uses humor as a way to defect others so he can keep his pain under the surface and he is a sucker for a cute girl especially those with an innocent look about them...
Valuable possessions: A gold cross necklace that he got from his parents and he got his fathers black single sleeve coat
Short History of Character: Angelo was born in Fravkoan and as such has not been blind to thievery. he has seen the worst of pickpockets that try to kill their marks and he has seen thieves that could take all your possessions just by smiling at them. Where he lived being a thief meant being in power to take what one wants. His father was thief retired into being a gold miner while his mother worked at an inn as a serving girl. Angelo had a happy life until his life went to hell as his father died in a mine collapse and soon after his mother died of disease once Angelo was alone he had to steal to survive and since then he has honed his skills.
Sword Power 1:} lightning affinity
Sword Power 2:} can transform into a lance
Sword Power 3:} energy saver ability, allows the sword to store electrical energy. If their is a lightning storm then the lightning is conducted into the blade for later use. |
3,335 | 73 | 2 | 511 | 963 | Jodha Mariam Kunwari
Amer was quiet in the mornings. The chatter and laughter of the villagers were not present, the only noise to resonate through the fields of the sleepy little hamlet being that of the birdsong and the quiet tilling of the fields for the planting season. These types of days were those that Jodha Mariam Kunwari cherished the most. No violence, no struggle, just simply peace and quiet as everyone busied themselves toiling away for the benefit of their home. Sitting on the porch of the council estate, warm green eyes (like the plains of grass that surrounded her village) tracking the figures of her nephews at work, the woman allowed herself a quiet chuckle of satisfaction at seeing the children she used to help care for develop into manhood.
Her duties as a defender were a few years away now, but she always listened, waiting for the sound of gallops on the wind. Their conflicts with the nomads were far from over, though definitely less violent than in ages past, but she always stayed alert, cautious for any attack at would strike at her beloved home. Jodha was an advisor now, helping coordinate the local militia against the raids, but her life seemed quite a bit more peaceful than she had expected. Would they finally discover a resolution to the conflict? She didn't know.
The olive-skinned woman yawned lightly. The heat of the sun was already making her feel drowsy.
Not a good sign for someone who needed to be in top form at all times.
But it was a nice day. | Name: Jodha Mariam Kunwari of Amer
Gender: Female
Age: 32
Nation of Birth: Harocrint
Appearance: A woman a number of years into the prime of her life, Jodha is not particularly remarkable in her appearance, but exudes an aura of warmth that resonates well with the light fairness of her visage. She is olive-skinned and in possession of chocolate brown locks that have been tied back into a neat ponytail, and two simple, emerald earrings (similar in shade to the irises of her kindly eyes) adorn her earlobes, the only real eye catchers for the modest-seeming, lightly-groomed woman. Standing at a height of one metre ninety, she towers over a number of her compatriots, especially with a fit body honed from years of work on farmsteads and in her local militia. It is a build that is only lightly emphasised by her preferences in simple clothes, which consist usually of a dull orange qamis tunic, beige shalwar trousers and from time to a flowing green scarf. Due to her former employment with the militia, she has made sure to sew for herself more resistant clothing, having also implemented mail into her outfit in case of danger.
Personality: A warm and kindly figure, it is altruism and love for her fellows that drives Jodha in her actions; always seeking to assist and support those she can. She will always be willing to lend an ear to the needy, always ready to empathise and care. Indeed, the collected woman is a constant bastion of maturity and patience, a gentle soul for all her friends. The Harocrint-born woman is a person who takes to life in a relaxed manner, happily engaging in activities with bright enthusiasm. Few things can shake at her almost-maternal demeanour, but if driven to anger, she can be incredibly intense, burning with a rage fuelled by her determination to do right by her morals and friends. Her sense of humour is quite expansive, but her jokes can be especially embarrassing to listen to, especially with how bad they are.
History: The second-born of the head of the small village of Amer, Jodha spent much of her youth undergoing a rather extensive education under the tutelage of local imam, who helped her develop strong administrative skills and furthered her curiosity into the nature of the world, teachings that befitted her position and allowed her to support her family in the running of the village council. For a time, this was essentially her life: doing farm work by day and studying by night, a simple routine that would not be interrupted until the age of sixteen. It was during her first years as an adult that the famine came, bringing widespread suffering to the western plains of Harocrint. A drought had laid low crops across the country, and desertification seemed to increase in the border regions. These factors brought the western plains into conflict, with the sedentary villages soon finding themselves fighting off raids by pastoral clans in a struggle for fertile soil. Jodha's village, alongside numerous others, established a militia to defend themselves, and she found herself joining up with one, fighting to defend the land her family had toiled upon for centuries. It would be during these conflicts that she distinguished herself as more than just an administrator, and when the ethnic tensions began to boil down a few years later, she was granted the position of the local militia's second-in-command, serving as a liaison between villages in its sphere of influence. It was a duty she performed with much vigour, and even now considers to hold considerable influence with the local militia as a trusted advisor.
Possessions:
Hatchet
Lion Emblem of the Militia
Holy Book
Water Canteen
Sword:
{Sword Power 1} As a blade modelled after the "spine-splitter", it is capable of dividing anything into two upon contact as long as the wielder wishes that such an act is performed.
{Sword Power 2} It is also capable of distinguishing between ethical absolutes, providing its wielder with the wisdom to discern the true motives of other people and whether or not said motives and the actions undertaken to fulfil them is right or wrong.
{Sword Power 3} Said to possess a celestial nature, the sword also provides its wielder with the ability to communicate telepathically with other humans. |
3,336 | 74 | 0 | 1,181 | 437 | Charles Hodges
My name is Charles Hodges. And if I've done my job right you’ve likely never heard of me, and most never will, sadly. Today was the day and Agares was not doing me any good as I made sure all parts of my expansive manor were secure and intact. A lovely Egyptian spell I had found while in Egypt had made this humble abode into quite the marvel. What they called a ‘Perpetual Dimensions’ spell had made his small London flat into an almost unrealistically deep mansion. Some rooms fell off and some doors opened into nothing but a wall. There was a pool, four libraries, two tennis courts, a zoo and roughly 400 rooms. It had taken me years to build up this place and now, Mages and Magicians from Gods know where, about to trample through it. It’s for the best you insolent bastard. Demons should not be the only people you talk to. I opened my mouth to comment on what sounded like an almost pleasant comment out of Agares when she cut me off.
Don’t get it fucked up, Human. She said in that old man's husky voice, going back to her usual ways of being a complete bitch. Not all Demons were mean just most of them had their particular quirks or problems that had to be dealt with. I’d sooner see one of these shits behead you than see you breath another day. But as of now, I'm content with you not losing your mind while I'm trapped in it. That's it. I laughed as she said that in the husky voice.”Just lay off the Camels for me there Agares, I’d miss you oh so dearly.” I said letting the sarcasm seep in. I looked around for a servant Imp and found one near a door sucking on the knob.
“Hey, you little bastard.” I said and the Imp stood straight up and looked to me for an order. “Suscipiant liciti, utrum accipiam vos ad me velim et ad inferos” The Imp disappeared in a cloud of smoke and I wiped the blood from the prick I had just made on my finger. Agares chimed in as always What did you send that poor little imp to find? You know you don't have to be so dramatic with you spells a simple ‘quid me vis’ and the imp would have done the same thing. I laughed at that. Agares hated Latin… that amused me. How could I torture her any other way than speaking a language, a language Demon hated. “He's finding my cigarettes i seem to have lost them.” If a Demon in your head can smack its own forehead, that is what she did. The doorbell rang. | Name: Charles Hodges
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Personality: Rough around the edges, dosen't like to talk that much. His solitary life has led to him not liking people that much and many find his company a bit weird but his knowledge is where he shines. The constant Voice of Agares haunts him always and has driven him a bit mad. As he says 'though to some madness is just societies label of genius they're afraid of.'. He love the outdoors and nature and can talk for hours about Botany and mythical creatures one can find here and there.
Country of Origin: England
History: Charles was born to a prestigious family and raised in New York City until his 15th birthday when his Father passed and he was left an orphan. He soon travel to London and found a place in the academic societies there. One day he got a slip of paper with an odd language he later found out was Greek, on it. Being a man who prided himself on his knowledge he followed the instruction on the paper, his first taste of Magic. He spent his days trying to figure out how it worked and how to master it.
Method of Magic: Blood Magic: when Charles Hodges cuts into his arms and blood flows from his veins there he draws power from it. Only his blood and expelled lifeforces into his Magic will have an effect. Trying to use someone else blood will poison his own leading to his eventual down fall it is the same with all Blood Magic Users and most dont live long tough there incantations and wards are some of the most powerful, any spell or summons will require his blood.
Demon Servants: Agares. Several minor Demons.
Other: His house is a place of wonder, hes spent a lot of the last six years perfecting it. It has massive libraries and the inside is bigger than it looks from the outside... |
3,337 | 74 | 1 | 355 | 686 | Zayn's feet touchdown on the rooftop of a tall building. His attire stood out like a sore thumb. The wind was almost silent however, almost scared to move in his presence. "Look at all these worms." Zayn had spoke, to which a man in white joined him, almost out of thin air, "What gives you the right to drag me around boy? Where are we going!?" The voice of Pride was that of anger. Zayn simply kept quiet, he knew it would turn into a fight if he spoke. He raised his right hand, closed hand except for his middle and index finger pointed up against his face, "Me ni miemasen" Zayn's body had faded into the wind, travelling through the open skies before stopping at an old apartment. The address he was given. Zayn's face turned to anger quickly when no one came to greet him so he knocked on the door angrily, pissed off he had to knock. | Name: Zayn Haben
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Personality: Zayn is highly proud of his own existence and deems everyone else below him unworthy of setting his eyes upon him. He doesn't like to be around those unworthy and will often have a fit. Because of his pride, he often fights with his servant, Pride and it leads to extensive fighting.
Country of Origin: Australia
History: Zayn grew up knowing he was different from the world. He couldn't put his finger on it. When he was eight years old Zayn got into a fight with a school bully, what the world doesnt know is how it ended with the bully almost killed. Zayn had somehow done the impossible. He didn't know what it was at first until his parents gave him the talk, well the one about magic and demon summoning. From that day Zayn left school and went in search for his perfect demon. Finally, at the age of 12 the ritual was ready. However in the middle of the ritual his parents came rushing in, their souls being sucked away in an instant, gone, dead. Then out he popped, Pride, the perfect demon and leader of the seven deadly sins. All it cost was Zayn's blood from his left arm and his parents soul. He held his family close, angry at his lost Zayn didn't know what to do. Pride, raised the kid from then on, teaching him how to control his magic and to treat others as weak until proven otherwise.
Method of Magic:
Magic in which the user releases seals which release various effects utilizing æther. Most spells, however, are not named after the output formula number, and the effects of the seals can be either offensive or defensive. This magic is believed to be the parent magic of Generation Magic, as certain Izanagi Magic Seal spells were believed to be the first way to give æther a concrete structure.
However, the most astonishing trait of the Izanagi Magic Seals is its ability to combine the two forms of æther present in Emanation Magic and Generation Magic. This allows certain spells to have an appearance (through the light released from the magic power in the spell) but have the traits of voids.
Izanagi Magic Seals are difficult to perform, because of the strain it has on magic reserves. While many spells can be performed in weaker variations, spells like Amatsu-Mikaboshi or Zōka Sanshin consume a large extent of magic power and can only be executed in one form, thus there is no possible way to use those spells without greatly deplenishing magic reserves.
Tempest Pyre: Kagutsuchi (暴風雨の火カグツチ lit. Tempest Pyre: Earth Lord)- Zayn's most powerful Izanagi Magic Seal spell which summons a seal that engulfs the area in a large scale violet inferno.
God Spear: Tenkei (神のやり天沼矛 lit. Heavenly Jeweled Spear of the God)- Zayn summons several rotating seals which send a large spear of light down upon the foe, causing a devastating explosion.
Nefarious World: Yomi (極悪非道な世界黄泉 lit. Nefarious World: Underworld)- Zayn summons a large seal which creates a massive shockwave of dark energy.
Fortune of Protection: Gama (保護運寿老人 lit. Fortune of Protection: Jiroujin) - Zayn summons a large seal in front of himself which creates energy that branches out like an opening fan, to protect him from incoming attacks.
Fortune of Hunger: Hotei (空腹の運布袋 lit. Fortune of Hunger: Budai)- Zayn summons several seals around his foe in order to sap their magical power and transfer it to himself.
Fortune of the Warrior: Bishamon (戦士の運毘沙門 lit. Fortune of the Warrior: Tamonten)- Zayn summons several magical seals which bombard his enemy with a continuum of magic blasts with devastating power.
Demon Servants: Pride, One of the 7 deadly sins.
Other: Haben, is 'Pride' in african american. Pride, in lore, is said to be one of the strongest, most powerful of Demons. Source for magic. |
3,338 | 74 | 2 | 1,181 | 437 | Charles Hodges
I quickly made my way to the door as the imp slipped the goods into my pocket. Which fu- “Please, just for a moment can we not with this bulocs!” I said gripping the doorknob, putting on as much of a smile as I could muster, though in the mirror it looked rather painful. It was.
I opened the door and cool London air blew in as I pulled out a smoke. “Zayn, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, I’ve heard… well not so much actually.” I motioned for him to come in pointing to the jacket rack. “I had to talk to a particularly crazy aboriginal with the shrunken head of some french queen he kept going on about to even catch wind of you. And of course Pride.” I gave the demon my best if disdainful respectful nod. Pride had a temper not to be Fucked with? Sure, for lack of a better wording, fucked with. I lead him into the main room a huge room full of historical art and a very long dining table. Three Imps scurried away as I opened the two broad, elegantly carved doors leading to the dining room. My left hand itched, it seemed someone wanted to play. My hand turned to sand as I whispered the spell, it fell to the floor and the sand piled up revealing Agares in all her glory.
“How longs it been?” I said wiggling my earlobe… finally silence. Agares looked at me and turned to her old Hawk Face.
“Stuck in your fucking head?” He said limping over to me “I don't know maybe two years laddy,” His face pinched up “If i could cut your balls off and hang them in my viewing room, I would.” She turned back into her usual beautiful self and greeted Pride.
“I own your viewing room” I said turning to Zayn, “How was your trip?" [/color/ | Name: Charles Hodges
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Personality: Rough around the edges, dosen't like to talk that much. His solitary life has led to him not liking people that much and many find his company a bit weird but his knowledge is where he shines. The constant Voice of Agares haunts him always and has driven him a bit mad. As he says 'though to some madness is just societies label of genius they're afraid of.'. He love the outdoors and nature and can talk for hours about Botany and mythical creatures one can find here and there.
Country of Origin: England
History: Charles was born to a prestigious family and raised in New York City until his 15th birthday when his Father passed and he was left an orphan. He soon travel to London and found a place in the academic societies there. One day he got a slip of paper with an odd language he later found out was Greek, on it. Being a man who prided himself on his knowledge he followed the instruction on the paper, his first taste of Magic. He spent his days trying to figure out how it worked and how to master it.
Method of Magic: Blood Magic: when Charles Hodges cuts into his arms and blood flows from his veins there he draws power from it. Only his blood and expelled lifeforces into his Magic will have an effect. Trying to use someone else blood will poison his own leading to his eventual down fall it is the same with all Blood Magic Users and most dont live long tough there incantations and wards are some of the most powerful, any spell or summons will require his blood.
Demon Servants: Agares. Several minor Demons.
Other: His house is a place of wonder, hes spent a lot of the last six years perfecting it. It has massive libraries and the inside is bigger than it looks from the outside... |
3,339 | 74 | 3 | 355 | 686 | Zayn | London Apartment
With:
Theme: Hero
Zayn gave the man a blank stare, How dare this worm track ME down, ME!? That's it, I'll sho- Pride stepped in front of Zayn, giving him a look. Pride turned to Charles, "Charles. I am Pride, leader of the seven deadly sins. This... IS NOT A WELCOME FIT FOR ME!" Pride's eye turned a dark red, his fuse about to explode. Crap... Zayn walked into the room, slightly tugging at Pride. Once inside Zayn finally had a look at the building, it was massive inside, completely different inside. "This spell is Egyptian, no? But anyway Charles, I pride myself on being hard to track. So for you going to a lot of trouble for me, I assumed something is up. Why do you call for me and my Demon?" | Name: Zayn Haben
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Personality: Zayn is highly proud of his own existence and deems everyone else below him unworthy of setting his eyes upon him. He doesn't like to be around those unworthy and will often have a fit. Because of his pride, he often fights with his servant, Pride and it leads to extensive fighting.
Country of Origin: Australia
History: Zayn grew up knowing he was different from the world. He couldn't put his finger on it. When he was eight years old Zayn got into a fight with a school bully, what the world doesnt know is how it ended with the bully almost killed. Zayn had somehow done the impossible. He didn't know what it was at first until his parents gave him the talk, well the one about magic and demon summoning. From that day Zayn left school and went in search for his perfect demon. Finally, at the age of 12 the ritual was ready. However in the middle of the ritual his parents came rushing in, their souls being sucked away in an instant, gone, dead. Then out he popped, Pride, the perfect demon and leader of the seven deadly sins. All it cost was Zayn's blood from his left arm and his parents soul. He held his family close, angry at his lost Zayn didn't know what to do. Pride, raised the kid from then on, teaching him how to control his magic and to treat others as weak until proven otherwise.
Method of Magic:
Magic in which the user releases seals which release various effects utilizing æther. Most spells, however, are not named after the output formula number, and the effects of the seals can be either offensive or defensive. This magic is believed to be the parent magic of Generation Magic, as certain Izanagi Magic Seal spells were believed to be the first way to give æther a concrete structure.
However, the most astonishing trait of the Izanagi Magic Seals is its ability to combine the two forms of æther present in Emanation Magic and Generation Magic. This allows certain spells to have an appearance (through the light released from the magic power in the spell) but have the traits of voids.
Izanagi Magic Seals are difficult to perform, because of the strain it has on magic reserves. While many spells can be performed in weaker variations, spells like Amatsu-Mikaboshi or Zōka Sanshin consume a large extent of magic power and can only be executed in one form, thus there is no possible way to use those spells without greatly deplenishing magic reserves.
Tempest Pyre: Kagutsuchi (暴風雨の火カグツチ lit. Tempest Pyre: Earth Lord)- Zayn's most powerful Izanagi Magic Seal spell which summons a seal that engulfs the area in a large scale violet inferno.
God Spear: Tenkei (神のやり天沼矛 lit. Heavenly Jeweled Spear of the God)- Zayn summons several rotating seals which send a large spear of light down upon the foe, causing a devastating explosion.
Nefarious World: Yomi (極悪非道な世界黄泉 lit. Nefarious World: Underworld)- Zayn summons a large seal which creates a massive shockwave of dark energy.
Fortune of Protection: Gama (保護運寿老人 lit. Fortune of Protection: Jiroujin) - Zayn summons a large seal in front of himself which creates energy that branches out like an opening fan, to protect him from incoming attacks.
Fortune of Hunger: Hotei (空腹の運布袋 lit. Fortune of Hunger: Budai)- Zayn summons several seals around his foe in order to sap their magical power and transfer it to himself.
Fortune of the Warrior: Bishamon (戦士の運毘沙門 lit. Fortune of the Warrior: Tamonten)- Zayn summons several magical seals which bombard his enemy with a continuum of magic blasts with devastating power.
Demon Servants: Pride, One of the 7 deadly sins.
Other: Haben, is 'Pride' in african american. Pride, in lore, is said to be one of the strongest, most powerful of Demons. Source for magic. |
3,340 | 74 | 4 | 1,181 | 437 | Charles Hodges
Charles laughed at Pride and Agares jaw ticked. “I don't adhere to Demons, I control them…” I said looking at Pride then Agares who murmured to Pride about this one having a mouth or something, harder to keep the Demon shut up when she wasn't dirtying my mind. Zayn was getting straight to the point, no time for pleasantries, eh? Good that's how I like it. “I called you here because I understand you control it,” I said pointing toward Pride “... and it is a powerful foe for any Mage. And well, Agares is an obedient but unpleasant example as you’ll find out. Others will be here, you don't have to talk to them or anything, painstakingly I do have to do that however.” I took a deep drag of my Cigarette and exhaled. “If they have questions I can easily answer them though I must ask where did you learn your Magics?” I took a seat at the table crossing my legs and ashing my smoke. “Of course you can go back to wherever you came from if you don't want to stay, I would understand. Though…” I took another drag of the cigarette. “You may want to stay for the ending? I have a little story to tell about a particularly naughty Mage I need help dealing with, ‘save the world’ and all that good jazz as it goes.” I exhaled. | Name: Charles Hodges
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Personality: Rough around the edges, dosen't like to talk that much. His solitary life has led to him not liking people that much and many find his company a bit weird but his knowledge is where he shines. The constant Voice of Agares haunts him always and has driven him a bit mad. As he says 'though to some madness is just societies label of genius they're afraid of.'. He love the outdoors and nature and can talk for hours about Botany and mythical creatures one can find here and there.
Country of Origin: England
History: Charles was born to a prestigious family and raised in New York City until his 15th birthday when his Father passed and he was left an orphan. He soon travel to London and found a place in the academic societies there. One day he got a slip of paper with an odd language he later found out was Greek, on it. Being a man who prided himself on his knowledge he followed the instruction on the paper, his first taste of Magic. He spent his days trying to figure out how it worked and how to master it.
Method of Magic: Blood Magic: when Charles Hodges cuts into his arms and blood flows from his veins there he draws power from it. Only his blood and expelled lifeforces into his Magic will have an effect. Trying to use someone else blood will poison his own leading to his eventual down fall it is the same with all Blood Magic Users and most dont live long tough there incantations and wards are some of the most powerful, any spell or summons will require his blood.
Demon Servants: Agares. Several minor Demons.
Other: His house is a place of wonder, hes spent a lot of the last six years perfecting it. It has massive libraries and the inside is bigger than it looks from the outside... |
3,341 | 74 | 5 | 355 | 686 | Zayn | London Apartment
With:
Theme: Hero
Zayn turned to Pride who gave a simple nodding to agree to the terms. Zayn sat opposite him and Zayn's sword became obvious. It was two handed mammoth of a sword and it was strange as to how Zayn could conceal it so easily. Zayn pulled his sword and sat it down next to him. "Me? I learnt it at a very young age. So young I almost killed a kid. Summoning this Demon took more then an arm from me. It took both my parents lives. So Pride raised me as his own, and I've sent my life since that point in time, training my magic. Well... Magic and swordsmanship. Tell me, Charlie. Have you heard the rumor of some female who summoned... Lucifer?" Zayn let the question float in the air for a second before continuing, "I was tracking her down to see if it was true when I got your invite. Now if I amto stay, Pride and I demand the biggest room." | Name: Zayn Haben
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Personality: Zayn is highly proud of his own existence and deems everyone else below him unworthy of setting his eyes upon him. He doesn't like to be around those unworthy and will often have a fit. Because of his pride, he often fights with his servant, Pride and it leads to extensive fighting.
Country of Origin: Australia
History: Zayn grew up knowing he was different from the world. He couldn't put his finger on it. When he was eight years old Zayn got into a fight with a school bully, what the world doesnt know is how it ended with the bully almost killed. Zayn had somehow done the impossible. He didn't know what it was at first until his parents gave him the talk, well the one about magic and demon summoning. From that day Zayn left school and went in search for his perfect demon. Finally, at the age of 12 the ritual was ready. However in the middle of the ritual his parents came rushing in, their souls being sucked away in an instant, gone, dead. Then out he popped, Pride, the perfect demon and leader of the seven deadly sins. All it cost was Zayn's blood from his left arm and his parents soul. He held his family close, angry at his lost Zayn didn't know what to do. Pride, raised the kid from then on, teaching him how to control his magic and to treat others as weak until proven otherwise.
Method of Magic:
Magic in which the user releases seals which release various effects utilizing æther. Most spells, however, are not named after the output formula number, and the effects of the seals can be either offensive or defensive. This magic is believed to be the parent magic of Generation Magic, as certain Izanagi Magic Seal spells were believed to be the first way to give æther a concrete structure.
However, the most astonishing trait of the Izanagi Magic Seals is its ability to combine the two forms of æther present in Emanation Magic and Generation Magic. This allows certain spells to have an appearance (through the light released from the magic power in the spell) but have the traits of voids.
Izanagi Magic Seals are difficult to perform, because of the strain it has on magic reserves. While many spells can be performed in weaker variations, spells like Amatsu-Mikaboshi or Zōka Sanshin consume a large extent of magic power and can only be executed in one form, thus there is no possible way to use those spells without greatly deplenishing magic reserves.
Tempest Pyre: Kagutsuchi (暴風雨の火カグツチ lit. Tempest Pyre: Earth Lord)- Zayn's most powerful Izanagi Magic Seal spell which summons a seal that engulfs the area in a large scale violet inferno.
God Spear: Tenkei (神のやり天沼矛 lit. Heavenly Jeweled Spear of the God)- Zayn summons several rotating seals which send a large spear of light down upon the foe, causing a devastating explosion.
Nefarious World: Yomi (極悪非道な世界黄泉 lit. Nefarious World: Underworld)- Zayn summons a large seal which creates a massive shockwave of dark energy.
Fortune of Protection: Gama (保護運寿老人 lit. Fortune of Protection: Jiroujin) - Zayn summons a large seal in front of himself which creates energy that branches out like an opening fan, to protect him from incoming attacks.
Fortune of Hunger: Hotei (空腹の運布袋 lit. Fortune of Hunger: Budai)- Zayn summons several seals around his foe in order to sap their magical power and transfer it to himself.
Fortune of the Warrior: Bishamon (戦士の運毘沙門 lit. Fortune of the Warrior: Tamonten)- Zayn summons several magical seals which bombard his enemy with a continuum of magic blasts with devastating power.
Demon Servants: Pride, One of the 7 deadly sins.
Other: Haben, is 'Pride' in african american. Pride, in lore, is said to be one of the strongest, most powerful of Demons. Source for magic. |
3,342 | 74 | 6 | 1,181 | 437 | Charles Hodges
Charles laughed again… this was getting scary stop laughing Charles. “Janet? Whatever do you need her for? Good Mage but weak in the moral fibers, can’t fight much but she's a smart one. Last I heard she was in antarctica doing some sort of ritual there, she was supposed to be here but said she couldn’t. I don't know how that whole lucifer thing panned out for her, rather greedy that demon, she gave him her son and nothing, that alone is enough to drive anyone mad. I hear they have some sort of pact though she’s never told me of it. Strange Magic on that little girl. Hard to believe she's only 16, eh? And you’ll come to see that your room if it's the biggest is just like 24 others so don't feel to special, there are 23 just as big…” I stood up snapping an Imp into the room with a quick incantation. “Show Mr. Zayn to his room so he may do what he wishes with so much room. I warn you though asking for one of those rooms you're bound to get lost I use them as villas, you see. Never have to leave home. Your welcome to whichever you like just don't get to deep so i don't have to send an Imp after you. Maybe a tour once you get settled, no other guest have arrived yet.” I said turning to him. | Name: Charles Hodges
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Personality: Rough around the edges, dosen't like to talk that much. His solitary life has led to him not liking people that much and many find his company a bit weird but his knowledge is where he shines. The constant Voice of Agares haunts him always and has driven him a bit mad. As he says 'though to some madness is just societies label of genius they're afraid of.'. He love the outdoors and nature and can talk for hours about Botany and mythical creatures one can find here and there.
Country of Origin: England
History: Charles was born to a prestigious family and raised in New York City until his 15th birthday when his Father passed and he was left an orphan. He soon travel to London and found a place in the academic societies there. One day he got a slip of paper with an odd language he later found out was Greek, on it. Being a man who prided himself on his knowledge he followed the instruction on the paper, his first taste of Magic. He spent his days trying to figure out how it worked and how to master it.
Method of Magic: Blood Magic: when Charles Hodges cuts into his arms and blood flows from his veins there he draws power from it. Only his blood and expelled lifeforces into his Magic will have an effect. Trying to use someone else blood will poison his own leading to his eventual down fall it is the same with all Blood Magic Users and most dont live long tough there incantations and wards are some of the most powerful, any spell or summons will require his blood.
Demon Servants: Agares. Several minor Demons.
Other: His house is a place of wonder, hes spent a lot of the last six years perfecting it. It has massive libraries and the inside is bigger than it looks from the outside... |
3,343 | 74 | 7 | 1,181 | 437 | Riley let out a bit of a huff and rubbed their hands together feeling rather cold. The whole place had been making them feel rather off edge, probably because it was a new setting for them entirely. Sticking to the back alleys had hopefully been the right choice and likely was since Riley was not ‘himself’ currently and instead something else for comfort. It was rather relieving when Riley approached what they assumed to be apartment but was rather unsure. Riley quickly tried knocking at the door and sitting down limply in front of it. Briefly muttering to themselves. “Hopefully this is the right place, all the cranes that it took to get here..”
If someone had come to answer the door they would be met with a cartoonish looking polar bear creature, rather resembling a teddy bear of some sort. It was currently around 3’5” and wearing baggy clothing (Sweat pants and a hoodie) as well as a backpack. A wide and practiced grin printed across its face as it tried to look from the corner of its eye whether or not someone had opened the door and came to it. There was a small wish for having some more methods to prepare but none had come directly to mind. Especially not in a somewhat tired and hungry state. Perhaps something should have been grabbed along the way. "It is..or should be here.." A quiet whisper ran through Riley's mind. | Name: Charles Hodges
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Personality: Rough around the edges, dosen't like to talk that much. His solitary life has led to him not liking people that much and many find his company a bit weird but his knowledge is where he shines. The constant Voice of Agares haunts him always and has driven him a bit mad. As he says 'though to some madness is just societies label of genius they're afraid of.'. He love the outdoors and nature and can talk for hours about Botany and mythical creatures one can find here and there.
Country of Origin: England
History: Charles was born to a prestigious family and raised in New York City until his 15th birthday when his Father passed and he was left an orphan. He soon travel to London and found a place in the academic societies there. One day he got a slip of paper with an odd language he later found out was Greek, on it. Being a man who prided himself on his knowledge he followed the instruction on the paper, his first taste of Magic. He spent his days trying to figure out how it worked and how to master it.
Method of Magic: Blood Magic: when Charles Hodges cuts into his arms and blood flows from his veins there he draws power from it. Only his blood and expelled lifeforces into his Magic will have an effect. Trying to use someone else blood will poison his own leading to his eventual down fall it is the same with all Blood Magic Users and most dont live long tough there incantations and wards are some of the most powerful, any spell or summons will require his blood.
Demon Servants: Agares. Several minor Demons.
Other: His house is a place of wonder, hes spent a lot of the last six years perfecting it. It has massive libraries and the inside is bigger than it looks from the outside... |
3,344 | 74 | 8 | 576 | 94 | Riley sitting upon the doorstep of sorts noticed someone standing near the door. It seemed that the person had rather, already recognized them as a being rather than just a doll so that was a sign. A sign showing that this definitely appeared to be the right place. It seem the person gave out there own name immediately so that was rather welcoming. It, being Riley in this case rather stood up slowly and was being motioned to be lead inside. Riley rather took a slow approach to this and was uncomfortable of giving up his indentity quite yet. It may have been rude but it felt 'safer' to do so. "Well, umm.. for now I hope you don't mind calling me Kuma! Sorry for the improper introduction, just a bit.. on edge for a while." The creature's voice would likely come off sounding as young as a child and perhaps a bit robotic in more of a practiced manner. He would try to take a few slow steps toward the building before quickly slipping in. | Name: Leander Hastings
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Personality/History: Leander is cunning and calculating. He grew up a normal kid until he lost his parents at a young age in a home invasion. Ever since he had been fascinated with death. He is sociable enough in public but tends to weird people out with his body language, pretty awkward. After schooling he joined the British military as a surgeon and combat medic. He was eventually captured behind enemy lines. After a narrow escape, he never returned to his superiors, and is still considered dead. Most recently his "dear" grandmother had fallen prey to a failed ritual of his. He can show love and compassion to people he truly cares about, but others, particularly ones he doesnt like, he oh so easily begins to view them as projects or pieces of meat. Something is most definitely wrong with him in the head, of that there is no doubt. Magic will have that effect. Considering his hobbies include dissecting animals and dead people, he is fairly well assimilated to normal life, choosing to hide out and jump from motel to motel in downtown London. His only real goal is to further his knowledge of death and do his best to connect the two someday, in hopes of forming a bridge between life and death, to further prevent his loved ones from leaving him forever.
Country of Origin: England
Method of Magic: Necromancy. Leander is fascinated with death. His rituals involve animals and people of all kinds, and hopes to one day successfully sacrifice a live person in order to raise a demon of death. Loss of life is what powers his magic.
Demons: Lesser demons, none worth mentioning. He uses them to further his studies, and over the years has worked to where he is at, dangerously close to using a live sacrifice to summon a truly powerful demon of death.
Other: While he mainly uses animals and people he has no ties to, his most recent failed experience with his grandmother was a revelation. Distant though it was, the connection with his grandmother made the experiment all the more powerful. He fears that to summon the demon he requires to bridge the gap between life and death and see his parents again, he will have to sacrifice somebody he loves. |
3,345 | 74 | 9 | 2,259 | 996 | Nicolai
Nicolai nods to the fledgling necromancer, and collects his modest fee. After saying their farewells he leaves and begins to wander the streets of London with a vague idea that he is supposed to be somewhere, but just cant think of where it was. He paused to get his barrings, as he looked around he noticed a pair of glowing eyes in the shadows of an alley. Nicolai sighed as the creature moved into the light, it was a drooling and grotesque ghoul.
"Ahriman, will you knock it off..."
"Come on Nic, this will be fun. can you reach the party before the Ghoul catches you?"
Nicolai watches the Ghoul as it begins to slowly approach him. It is an illusion, it couldn't do him any actual harm but it would seem to hurt him until Ahriman was satisfied. Nicolai could force the illusion away but Ahriman would push back, he wouldn't give up on this cruel game. Nicolai begins to walk quickly down the street hoping that it was in the right direction. While he walked a Figure appeared walking next to him clad in red. Ahriman wasn't actually there either, simply an illusion cast from within Nicolai's mind. Out of frustration Nicolai begins reciting an elaborate conjuration ritual, he put nothing behind it so that he wouldn't summon a lesser deity into the streets of London. He was certainly not going to make that mistake again.
"Nicolai, Nicolai, Nicolai... you realize you are going the wrong way don't you?... No, well then. Ill give you a hand, Its not any fun if my Ghoul catches you without a fighting chance... alright, three blocks south and four east from here."
Nicolai listened, and glanced behind him. The Ghoul was closer, matching his pace and then some so that his there was a time limit on the game. He didn't have long but he should make it to this shindig before the game was up. Once he was about a block away he realized where he was actually supposed to be, some apartment for a gathering of mages. As rounded a corner and noticed the door to the apartment close, he hurried up towards the apartment hearing the ghoul only a few steps behind him. The moment he reached the door the sound of the ghoul vanished abruptly.
"Well done, you should probably knock it would be impolite to just wait outside."
Nicolai hesitated but knocked anyway, as his knuckles hit the door Ahriman vanished and Nicolai stood on the doorstep alone. | Name: Morgan Riley
Age: 16
Gender: Gender Fluid tends to lean toward male
Appearance: Morgan is roughly around five feet and four inches tall. The complexion is a smooth almond brown. The general frame is wide around the hips and abdomen area as he mostly appears fat or chubby normally although his legs are filled with muscle. The hair has been died a dark red and goes to either side of the head in a short Dido hairstyle. The eye color is a dark brown.
As for clothing Morgan can often be found in a t-shirt and a pair of black sweat pants with a large lavender hoodie that does down a few inches past the hips. Often preferring comfortable clothing and occasionally wearing more feminine outfits from time to time whether in a different form or not.
On occasion he appears as a small cartoonish looking polar bear creature in seemingly military outfit for the heck of it. It’s based off an old cartoon character and is often used to sneak around or into certain places.
Personality: Morgan tends to be a bit curious about small things now and then such as how a certain spell works, what makes a clock tick, and how would one create their own new language. Leading to a slow approach and look into things. In cases where things appear overly threatening to encounter or something quite dangerous to appear Morgan will tend to overreact or prepare to perhaps extremes. On the other hand toying with people often in a slight manner over something as simple as what their name might be or what they truly looked like can be rather fun. Being in quiet places with a handful of non-hostile people seems to be a rare and wonderful opportunity to indulge in whenever possible.
Country of Origin: United States of America
History: Morgan was born into a seemingly upper middle class family in Jacksonville, Florida. For the most part his life had been utterly fine if not a bit crazy during spring breaks because of various college students partying it up. It was not until three years ago or so that his mother got divorced and remarried to a man who had practiced magic to some degree himself mostly around illusions of some sort or another. Morgan had begun asking about practicing some magic as well and had been messing around with a fantasy language as well at the time. Quickly toying around with transformation at first before rather picking it up. About a year ago Morgan’s parents had come down with a disease or more or less a curse that was supposed to kill them slowly over five years (Morgan’s Dad takes the blame for angering other magicians). Morgan looked through some other spell and summoning books and carefully summoned Marbas using all kinds of magical circles around one another that were mentioned to bring safety and put on a bunch of silver rings just in case. Immediately requesting Marbas to take human form and the magical circles seem to quite save him. Asking Marbas about the secret about how to be able to cure his parents Morgan was told to become a better magical user in order to draw upon more power including Marbas’ to cure and cause diseases and to form a pact with Marbas to achieve such and head out toward England hopefully for better instructors. A couple of days of building up the gall and removing his left eye (with the help of some anesthetic) to help form the pact, Morgan drops out of school and sneaks on a plane ride to England.
Method of Magic: Transformation magic. Morgan’s magic more or less draws from constant rituals of change at the moment. Changing the state of something physical into something else and magic grows rather more powerful with the more drastic the change. The methods often used for ritual are folding origami lions and cooking rose petals and eggs seems to be the most replenishing. The magic is more based upon changing one thing into another such as Morgan turning himself into an animal or seemingly into an inanimate object or the appearance of a fictional creature or person. It is also possible to turn another person or being into something or someone else.
It often requires more rituals to build up magic in the case of turning another person or creature into something else but has not yet been attempted and will likely need practice. It could also possibly work on inanimate objects taking the physical form of something or someone else but this has yet to be seen or tested.
Demon Servants: Marbas (Might try and change this later on for a servant hellhound for a 'lesser' demon, but can't think clear enough at the moment)
Other: |
3,346 | 74 | 10 | 1,181 | 437 | Charles Hodges
The bear walked in a bit warily, and was quickly escorted into the dining room where Agares was waiting to tell him… maybe that wasn’t right. At any note, I really had hoped for more of a turn out than this, was this the best he could do against the forces of Evil that were currently at work stitching the fabrics of Fate. Changing it to their every whim. My eyes glazed over as I recited a spell, to any onlooker it would appear as though my eyes had turned into small galaxies. I sifted through the goings on of Ms. Downey on Baker street, then a man in Peru being beaten by a drug addled youth. I shook my head, dispelling the tiny lights in my eyes along with the spell. For some reason I could never find him… hell I didn’t even know who he was.
But he was. And that was all that mattered, not for the first time he felt a tug on the scales of the universe. Felt the Dark Army being built as one by one more Demons were obtained by a single Mage. Whatever it was it rivaled the God’s in power. And this was all I had to work with. I looked around the room seeing Agares standing there. “Someone knocked you know…” She said hands on hips. “Two times in fact.” I stood up quickly pushing the Demon out of my way and pulling the door open. Cold air blew in and two figures stood there.
“My name is Hodges! Who may you be.” I said the with the best smile i could muster. | Name: Charles Hodges
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Personality: Rough around the edges, dosen't like to talk that much. His solitary life has led to him not liking people that much and many find his company a bit weird but his knowledge is where he shines. The constant Voice of Agares haunts him always and has driven him a bit mad. As he says 'though to some madness is just societies label of genius they're afraid of.'. He love the outdoors and nature and can talk for hours about Botany and mythical creatures one can find here and there.
Country of Origin: England
History: Charles was born to a prestigious family and raised in New York City until his 15th birthday when his Father passed and he was left an orphan. He soon travel to London and found a place in the academic societies there. One day he got a slip of paper with an odd language he later found out was Greek, on it. Being a man who prided himself on his knowledge he followed the instruction on the paper, his first taste of Magic. He spent his days trying to figure out how it worked and how to master it.
Method of Magic: Blood Magic: when Charles Hodges cuts into his arms and blood flows from his veins there he draws power from it. Only his blood and expelled lifeforces into his Magic will have an effect. Trying to use someone else blood will poison his own leading to his eventual down fall it is the same with all Blood Magic Users and most dont live long tough there incantations and wards are some of the most powerful, any spell or summons will require his blood.
Demon Servants: Agares. Several minor Demons.
Other: His house is a place of wonder, hes spent a lot of the last six years perfecting it. It has massive libraries and the inside is bigger than it looks from the outside... |
3,347 | 74 | 11 | 576 | 94 | Riley simply and slowly followed as they were escorted into the dining room. Riley seemed briefly surprised and curious about Agares presence inside the room but decided not to say anything yet. They felt rather unsure of how to greet the other being physically in the room besides their escort. Riley's tilted their head and scratched at its left cheek with a small curiosity rising from the uncertainty. It certainly did not seem proper to give out a simple, hello or hi in this situation. It would briefly bother him for a moment.
Riley's escort having his eyes filled with stars rather literally was something else of interest. They quickly tried to divert their attention upon such and stepped back a little in order to prepare for a dash. It seemed that the demon was somewhat, sassy but not overwhelming at the moment. It seemed Riley's escort went to answer the door and that more people were arriving.
"Bowing slightly and adding 'your grace' would be the fitting greeting." A voice whispered and perhaps somewhat complained in the depths of Riley's mind. Riley quickly followed the instruction, bowing forward as to tilt his back and so on forward. "Um, um..Hello, Your Grace..?" Riley tried to say but it may have come off in an uncertain manner. Seeing as Riley was still somewhat unsure if that was proper at this moment. "Would you happen to have a kitchen I could use? Your Grace?" Riley tried adding the title of sorts toward the end having not phrased it into the flow of the question. | Name: Leander Hastings
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Personality/History: Leander is cunning and calculating. He grew up a normal kid until he lost his parents at a young age in a home invasion. Ever since he had been fascinated with death. He is sociable enough in public but tends to weird people out with his body language, pretty awkward. After schooling he joined the British military as a surgeon and combat medic. He was eventually captured behind enemy lines. After a narrow escape, he never returned to his superiors, and is still considered dead. Most recently his "dear" grandmother had fallen prey to a failed ritual of his. He can show love and compassion to people he truly cares about, but others, particularly ones he doesnt like, he oh so easily begins to view them as projects or pieces of meat. Something is most definitely wrong with him in the head, of that there is no doubt. Magic will have that effect. Considering his hobbies include dissecting animals and dead people, he is fairly well assimilated to normal life, choosing to hide out and jump from motel to motel in downtown London. His only real goal is to further his knowledge of death and do his best to connect the two someday, in hopes of forming a bridge between life and death, to further prevent his loved ones from leaving him forever.
Country of Origin: England
Method of Magic: Necromancy. Leander is fascinated with death. His rituals involve animals and people of all kinds, and hopes to one day successfully sacrifice a live person in order to raise a demon of death. Loss of life is what powers his magic.
Demons: Lesser demons, none worth mentioning. He uses them to further his studies, and over the years has worked to where he is at, dangerously close to using a live sacrifice to summon a truly powerful demon of death.
Other: While he mainly uses animals and people he has no ties to, his most recent failed experience with his grandmother was a revelation. Distant though it was, the connection with his grandmother made the experiment all the more powerful. He fears that to summon the demon he requires to bridge the gap between life and death and see his parents again, he will have to sacrifice somebody he loves. |
3,348 | 75 | 0 | 589 | 2,821 | Lantern Year 1: The First Story
The monster stalked toward its prey, fearless of the cowering creatures before it. Its maw and claws were already bloody from the others like them that it had slain, though it was still hungry. It would kill these last morsels, and haul the lot of them back to its den before it could feast. Though it was mighty, there would soon be others drawn by the bloodscent, and it did not wish to be forced to fend them off.
In the lantern light, the monster became visible. A great, white lion, its soft fur streaked with human blood. Its shimmering mane glimmered in the low light, and its eyes seemed to glow red in the darkness. Sharp teeth jutted from its maw at odd angles, and rather than front paws it seemed to possess a pair of clawed human hands. It prowled forward, toward the small group of humans, utterly unafraid.
Perhaps through some unseen instinct, perhaps at complete random, it struck at the fittest among them; the muscular, bearded man. Only able to barely evade the lion's blindingly-fast claws, the man's loincloth was torn, and shallow marks scratched across his chest. Even so, the man was still standing, and was ready to retaliate against his predator. As were all of his fellows, each armed with a shard of stone that they clutched in their desperate desire to survive. | I'll be putting the settlement record here eventually, just gimme a bit. |
3,349 | 75 | 1 | 1,033 | 567 | The large man in the large loincloth gripped his sharp shard of stone tight and eyes the beast with dire severity in his eyes. His body shook with rage as he circled the beast until he was at its flank, as it focused it's attentions on the bearded one.
It was large. Too large. The blood spatters on its fur left him with a slight feeling of hesitation as he ceased stepping forward. It only lasted a moment, but this was a situation where a moment meant death.
With a deep breath, he advanced, moving his huge bulk toward the beast with determination. He dived for its back legs, trying to tie it up with his arms and to get a few jabs off with his stone, to distract it at least, if not injure it. | Name:
--
Sex:
Male
Appearance:
Soft build with substantial muscle hidden beneath his slight chub. Chiseled face and square jaw hidden beneath chubby cheeks and neck fat. Stands at 6 and a half feet, wide shoulders, large hands and feet, and round belly. Dark brown skin, icy blue eyes. Curly black hair.
Personality:
Spiteful, reclusive, hardened. One to stick to the sidelines at the beginning of an encounter and measure an opponent up before jumping in with almost malicious penchant for violence. Has a taste for cruelty. Otherwise fond of a good joke but can sometimes go too far.
Regards the weak with slight disdain but will play favorites if given time. Has a soft side that rarely shows.
Fighting Arts:
--
Disorders:
--
Weapon Proficiency:
--
Abilities:
--
Gear:
Very Large Loincloth
Founding Stone |
3,350 | 75 | 2 | 1,413 | 768 | The clean shaven man clicked his tongue and backed away. The beast had come up out of nowhere and he wasn't all too pleased with their odds. He wanted to run away from the thing, thinking that it would be the best idea. He supposed that their numbers increased their chance of victory, but it also increased the chance of injury.
The clean shaven man had a decision to make. The beast had already attacked one of them so he could run away and save himself, or risk his own life to help the others fight it off. But as the large man ran to help their companion, he realised that he didn't have time to think about it.
He ran towards the beast and jumped towards it, aiming to land on the top of the raging animal. Perhaps he could do some damage from there, and discourage it from continuing its assault. | Name: --
Sex: Male
Appearance
A diamond shaped face with strong jaws unfortunately hidden by his dark grey beard reaching 5 cm in length while also connecting to his moustache which doesn't stand out that much. Sharp dark grey eyes and a light skin color.
He has a buffed mesomorph body and a strong physique to compliment the looks.
Personality
The first to lunge at the enemy in any battle. With or without intention he acts as a leader, making tough decisions when everyone else is in doubt while fully taking responsibility for it. Although he is the first to attack the enemy, he does so while taking into consideration all the factors, obviously having a plan first and if it's the only choice left. He has a knack for collecting trinkets and items he may find that pique his interest.
Fighting Arts
--
Disorders
--
Weapon Proficiency
--
Abilities
--
Gear
Loincloth
Founder Stone |
3,351 | 75 | 3 | 589 | 2,821 | Seemingly out of nowhere a ferocious white fured lion appeared. The predator slowly approaching his soon to be triple-mac-humans. Out of the 3 of them the beast lunged for him. He understood the beast, he was more of a threat then the others. In different circumstances he would be honored, but this wasn't one of those times.
He was hurt but he was far from done. As the nightmare spawn focused on him, the others were already on the move. To give them time he feinted attacks and backed a way quickly to evade the beast's attacks.
If the beast turned attention away from him and focused another, he would perform a blitz attack for its balls(if it had any) or plunge the rock deep in its rectum. | I'll be putting the settlement record here eventually, just gimme a bit. |
3,352 | 75 | 4 | 1,413 | 768 | That'd gone as badly as he'd imagined it would, although it hadn't ended as badly for him as it did his larger companion. Things were looking bad, even with a new ally joining the fray, and it could still get worse.
The clean shaven man lay quietly on the floor as he bled from his torso. Fortunately for him it didn't seem like the lion was interested in finishing his meal yet. He was definitely hurting, particularly in his chest area, and blood was beginning to pool around him as he lay there. He glanced at his companion's prone form, torn and bloodied levels beyond his own body. Was this how they were to die? Mauled by a feral beast in dark tunnels so far away from anything?
A grim determination soon pierced through the dazed fog that clouded his consciousness and the clean shaven man's grip tightened on the sharp rock, his only weapon. He got up onto his hands and knees, head spinning from blood loss, and quietly dragged himself behind the lion. If they were going to be eaten anyway it was better to go down swinging.
The clean shaven man made a desperate lunge at the beast's back leg, making up for his lack in strength with sheer will, the drive to at least wound the monster that had tormented them so. If this was a way to leave his mark on their small world then he would wholeheartedly give his life for it. | Name: --
Sex: Male
Appearance
A diamond shaped face with strong jaws unfortunately hidden by his dark grey beard reaching 5 cm in length while also connecting to his moustache which doesn't stand out that much. Sharp dark grey eyes and a light skin color.
He has a buffed mesomorph body and a strong physique to compliment the looks.
Personality
The first to lunge at the enemy in any battle. With or without intention he acts as a leader, making tough decisions when everyone else is in doubt while fully taking responsibility for it. Although he is the first to attack the enemy, he does so while taking into consideration all the factors, obviously having a plan first and if it's the only choice left. He has a knack for collecting trinkets and items he may find that pique his interest.
Fighting Arts
--
Disorders
--
Weapon Proficiency
--
Abilities
--
Gear
Loincloth
Founder Stone |
3,353 | 75 | 5 | 1,033 | 567 | The dark-skinned male pushed himself up, large hands covering a stone face each. The throw has shaken his balance, but it had also roused his temper further. The lion was throwing them about like toys and death was looming ever closer as one after another they were batted down like flies.
One of his compatriots flew back with a spray of crimson, his eye destroyed by the beasts swipe. The blow he had inflicted was the most progress they had made, severing the lion's most sensitive organs from its body. The success instilled the large man with hope. Hope and determination to survive.
He saw the lion advancing toward the to most injured of their group and knew it was his chance at intervention. With a roar of anger, the large man lumbered headfirst into a charge, his stone held at the ready to dig into the lion's body and try to sever something essential like a tendon or a ligament. He would tackle it with all his might, in tandem with his ally going for the back leg, to save the others from a fate most unpleasant. | Name:
--
Sex:
Male
Appearance:
Soft build with substantial muscle hidden beneath his slight chub. Chiseled face and square jaw hidden beneath chubby cheeks and neck fat. Stands at 6 and a half feet, wide shoulders, large hands and feet, and round belly. Dark brown skin, icy blue eyes. Curly black hair.
Personality:
Spiteful, reclusive, hardened. One to stick to the sidelines at the beginning of an encounter and measure an opponent up before jumping in with almost malicious penchant for violence. Has a taste for cruelty. Otherwise fond of a good joke but can sometimes go too far.
Regards the weak with slight disdain but will play favorites if given time. Has a soft side that rarely shows.
Fighting Arts:
--
Disorders:
--
Weapon Proficiency:
--
Abilities:
--
Gear:
Very Large Loincloth
Founding Stone |
3,354 | 75 | 6 | 589 | 2,821 | The claw swiped for his face and as fast as he thought he backed away the slash came upon his face, forever marking it with a claw mark and a dead eye. The man backed away, dragging on the floor while yelling in pain but luckily the lion had lost interest in him as it decided to turn for another soon-to-be-victim. The bearded man was in agonizing pain and bleeding from both attacks that the beast had inflicted upon him.
As the beast turned away from him he saw the other 2 people lunging for the animal. While the monster was focused on them, he would once again go and attack it from behind, this time focusing on the tail. The tail being an extension of the Chimera's spine, it would surely lose its balance once separated. Maybe even make its attacks miss.
With this plan in mind he cautiously circled around the beast, ready to attack with his trusted sharp rock that had never left his hand since the confrontation began. He would put all his focus on this attack, not letting his destroyed eye make him miss. | I'll be putting the settlement record here eventually, just gimme a bit. |
3,355 | 75 | 7 | 1,033 | 567 | The small feeling of a hard-won victory that the dark-skinned man felt as the stone bit into the lion's flesh once again was a sweet sensation but sadly shortlived. He gripped his stone tight and reared back for another blow, channeling all his anger into his arm.
But as the manlike clutches of the lion closed around him and the claws bit into his pillowy sides, his concentration broke and he clung to his stone, his sole weapon under the watchful eye of the stone faces, for dear life.
As the lion dropped him to the ground and he felt the hot lines of pain that the lion's grip had left on his flanks and back, he grit his teeth hard to the point that they threatened to crack. He would not die here as this beast's toy.
He was dizzy, and bruised. He was weakening. But still, he roared at the beast, bloody stone in his hand as he took his chance and leapt forward. He would go straight for its eyes and throat. Blind it and they might stand a chance of survival. Even if that meant he would end up with a nasty bite or two. | Name:
--
Sex:
Male
Appearance:
Soft build with substantial muscle hidden beneath his slight chub. Chiseled face and square jaw hidden beneath chubby cheeks and neck fat. Stands at 6 and a half feet, wide shoulders, large hands and feet, and round belly. Dark brown skin, icy blue eyes. Curly black hair.
Personality:
Spiteful, reclusive, hardened. One to stick to the sidelines at the beginning of an encounter and measure an opponent up before jumping in with almost malicious penchant for violence. Has a taste for cruelty. Otherwise fond of a good joke but can sometimes go too far.
Regards the weak with slight disdain but will play favorites if given time. Has a soft side that rarely shows.
Fighting Arts:
--
Disorders:
--
Weapon Proficiency:
--
Abilities:
--
Gear:
Very Large Loincloth
Founding Stone |
3,356 | 75 | 8 | 1,413 | 768 | The wound was shallow, but it was there. The clean shaven man staggered to his feet as the lion pounced away. The beast had another man in its jaws but he didn't look too badly injured, about as much as the clean shaven man himself, perhaps. They were hanging on surprisingly well and the addition of another person would certainly help.
The clean shaven man looked to where their new ally had thrown their rock, a little aside from the rest of the group. It wasn't in convenient grabbing distance, but he made his way towards it while also moving towards the lion. The wounds he'd received were a painful reminder not to jump in with no plan, so he made preparations to grab the rock if he could or jump back into the fray should the opportunity present itself. | Name: --
Sex: Male
Appearance
A diamond shaped face with strong jaws unfortunately hidden by his dark grey beard reaching 5 cm in length while also connecting to his moustache which doesn't stand out that much. Sharp dark grey eyes and a light skin color.
He has a buffed mesomorph body and a strong physique to compliment the looks.
Personality
The first to lunge at the enemy in any battle. With or without intention he acts as a leader, making tough decisions when everyone else is in doubt while fully taking responsibility for it. Although he is the first to attack the enemy, he does so while taking into consideration all the factors, obviously having a plan first and if it's the only choice left. He has a knack for collecting trinkets and items he may find that pique his interest.
Fighting Arts
--
Disorders
--
Weapon Proficiency
--
Abilities
--
Gear
Loincloth
Founder Stone |
3,357 | 75 | 9 | 589 | 2,821 | After his attack the beast quickly turned back and luckily for the bearded man it targeted the dark skinned man next to him. His pain up until now had been nulled by the anger from his wounds, the lost of his eye and seeing the beast still raring to go with no visible signs of just dropping dead. The woman who threw the rock clearly was of no use anymore. She threw, propably, her only weapon which left her useless and defenseless. That fact just added more responsibility on the bearded man. He wasn't only fighting for himself, he was also fighting for the entire party.
As the lion lay on his belly he started moving, circling the lion from the side one step at a time while never breaking eye contact with the beast. He circled the monster from the opposite side the clean shaven man took, effectively surrounding the beast from all sides. He planned to aim for the side of the beast, plunge the rock with all his might in the beast's belly and drag it in an attempt to spill its insides. Suddenly the dark skinned man got up with a roar and lunged to meet the beast face on. This was his cue as the bearded man also rushed the beast from the side. | I'll be putting the settlement record here eventually, just gimme a bit. |
3,358 | 75 | 10 | 1,033 | 567 | The dark-skinned man howled in pain as the jaws of the lion clamped down on his abdomen and pierced his skin. Deep within he felt a pain like hot nails searing their way into his gut. The warmth spread to his chest before emerging from his throat with a cough, as thick, dark blood.
His bearded companion fared better than he had, wedging his stone nicely in the beast's side and evaded the lion's blind swipe. It seemed that his wild charge had impaired it's vision somewhat. Good. Damn the beast. He wanted to tear into it with his bare hands, but a man's strength was not enough.
He laid prone, agony racking his body as the lion withdrew it's teeth from him and turned to one of the others. The woman, screaming shrill for all to hear, leapt upon it and tore it's ear off its head. As she cheered and held it up, the large man celebrated with her, giving a weak chuckle.
They were making progress but not enough and not quick enough. Alone they were weak but their power was in their numbers. The large man groaned as his wound flared with pain, and pulled himself toward his rock once more. It was slick with bright blood, from the lion's superficial wounds. He raised it at the others and bellowed, gesturing to the lion. He would use the dwindling reserves of his strength to move when they did, in hopes of a multifaceted attack. And when he did, he would be going for its gut just as it did.
And when he did, he would dig deep. | Name:
--
Sex:
Male
Appearance:
Soft build with substantial muscle hidden beneath his slight chub. Chiseled face and square jaw hidden beneath chubby cheeks and neck fat. Stands at 6 and a half feet, wide shoulders, large hands and feet, and round belly. Dark brown skin, icy blue eyes. Curly black hair.
Personality:
Spiteful, reclusive, hardened. One to stick to the sidelines at the beginning of an encounter and measure an opponent up before jumping in with almost malicious penchant for violence. Has a taste for cruelty. Otherwise fond of a good joke but can sometimes go too far.
Regards the weak with slight disdain but will play favorites if given time. Has a soft side that rarely shows.
Fighting Arts:
--
Disorders:
--
Weapon Proficiency:
--
Abilities:
--
Gear:
Very Large Loincloth
Founding Stone |
3,359 | 75 | 11 | 1,413 | 768 | As the woman went towards the lion, the clean shaven man made his decision. He rushed forward, also charging towards the lion. In theory, while the lion was occupied with the woman, he could at least get in range to damage it, although coming out alive was another matter entirely. The lion managed to shake the woman off, which shrunk the clean shaven man's window of opportunity. Nevertheless, he charged forward. His body felt numb and he felt a little cold as his life faded slowly, but there was no time to dress his wounds.
The clean shaven man put on a burst of speed as the woman was sent flying away, ducking underneath the lion's razor sharp fangs. As he slid under the beast he brought his stone up and thrust it upwards with all of his strength, into the area under the lion's head just before its mane, behind the great beast's jaw. | Name: --
Sex: Male
Appearance
A diamond shaped face with strong jaws unfortunately hidden by his dark grey beard reaching 5 cm in length while also connecting to his moustache which doesn't stand out that much. Sharp dark grey eyes and a light skin color.
He has a buffed mesomorph body and a strong physique to compliment the looks.
Personality
The first to lunge at the enemy in any battle. With or without intention he acts as a leader, making tough decisions when everyone else is in doubt while fully taking responsibility for it. Although he is the first to attack the enemy, he does so while taking into consideration all the factors, obviously having a plan first and if it's the only choice left. He has a knack for collecting trinkets and items he may find that pique his interest.
Fighting Arts
--
Disorders
--
Weapon Proficiency
--
Abilities
--
Gear
Loincloth
Founder Stone |
3,360 | 75 | 12 | 589 | 2,821 | Pleased to see his strike deal damage the bearded man quickly retreated just in time to dodge the lion's claws. The beast was half blind by the dark man's previous hit, a key element in their chances of survival.
Seeing everyone around him, all the injuries, all the blood but they still had fight in them, the will to live drove them on and it also fired him up. This was their chance, they couldn't just keep dragging this. This has to end now!
Cautiously the bearded man circled around the beast, trying to keep an even distance between the others so they once again surrounded the beast. Suddenly the shaven man decided to charge, right after the girl was thrown away. At this the bearded man also leaped into action. He took a running attack while holding the sharp rock with both hands. He would hopefully strike the beast's heart with this last hit that he would put all his strengthength into. As soon as the other would slide under the beast, the bearded man would crash to the beasts side with all his might, maybe knocking it down. Then it would continue to twist and push the rock deeper until it stroke through it's heart. | I'll be putting the settlement record here eventually, just gimme a bit. |
3,361 | 75 | 13 | 1,413 | 768 | The euphoria of their victory over the beast had long since faded over their wanderings, softened by the reality that would see them die should their wounds be left untreated. Even for the clean shaven man, the one who struck the last blow, the triumphant feeling he'd gained from landing the strike had turned to a gnawing doubt. He only managed to strike that blow because of the others distracting the beast, and he hadn't exactly sacrificed as much as the others did either. He didn't feel like he deserved it, although the fact of the matter was, the beast was dead and he'd struck the finishing blow.
The clean shaven man trudged along with the group, holding his torso where the beast's fangs had penetrated his flesh. His wounds weren't as bad as the bearded man, who'd received a wound he would likely never recover from. And he still had his stone, unlike the woman, whose stone had shattered on contact with the rocky walls around the area where they'd fought the beast. Overall, he was one of the luckier of the group. They'd all expended a lot taking it down but some came out with more than others. And while took everything they could get, it wouldn't last for that long.
The clean shaven man's stomach rumbled. He hadn't had a decent meal in a long time, a feature he was sure that he shared with the rest of the group. The blood loss also left his body cold, and their lanterns could only do so much to help. What they needed was somewhere to rest, so they could make use of their spoils. But as he mused on his misfortunes, a light flickered into view ahead and he saw an answer to his prayers.
As they drew closer to the pillar of lanterns the clean shaven man began to feel more comforted by their presence, more safe. It was as if the light of the lanterns warded off more than the darkness, like the pillar's luminance was a barrier against the danger of the tunnels. And as his body bathed fully in the warm light, he suddenly realised that he was thinking in ways he'd never thought of before. The light had seemingly turned the gears in his head, like it had been a key to a locked door that opened a new world for the clean shaven man.
But what would he do with it? What could he do with it? As the strange but familiar thoughts swirled in his head, he wondered if it would be best to reveal it. He didn't know what would happen. But the light of the lanterns melted his doubts and loosened his tongue.
He opened his mouth and spoke.
"...Hungry..." He said. | Name: --
Sex: Male
Appearance
A diamond shaped face with strong jaws unfortunately hidden by his dark grey beard reaching 5 cm in length while also connecting to his moustache which doesn't stand out that much. Sharp dark grey eyes and a light skin color.
He has a buffed mesomorph body and a strong physique to compliment the looks.
Personality
The first to lunge at the enemy in any battle. With or without intention he acts as a leader, making tough decisions when everyone else is in doubt while fully taking responsibility for it. Although he is the first to attack the enemy, he does so while taking into consideration all the factors, obviously having a plan first and if it's the only choice left. He has a knack for collecting trinkets and items he may find that pique his interest.
Fighting Arts
--
Disorders
--
Weapon Proficiency
--
Abilities
--
Gear
Loincloth
Founder Stone |
3,362 | 75 | 14 | 1,033 | 567 | The largest of the group held his heaving belly as it slowly tricked with worryingly dark blood. His pudgy face was set into a stony, agitated glare out at the soft light growing in the distance. Needing to be helped in walking made him spit blood onto the stone faces in disgust. His weakness had nearly cost him his life, nevermind the lives of the others. He felt like he could feel the air filling the wound at his flank left by the lion's maw, and the ebb of blood in tune to his heartbeat was beginning to wear on his will.
He was too hurt to help carrying the beast with them, but he made sure to give it a few good stomps in the skull before they left. For good measure. The light of the lanterns they held began to be overpowered by the light in the distance and for a moment, the scenery seemed to wave and warp as he passed his eyes over it. He had lost a lot of blood, and he was tired beyond limits he ever knew he had.
The congregation of lanterns had attracted a gathering of other humans like him. All dark-eyed and gape-mouthed. They made him sick to look at. Frightened. Weak. Just as he was, but he refused to accept the similarities. Instead he lifted himself from his supporter, his vision was too bleary to see whether it was the woman or one of the other men, but he pushed them away to stand on his own.
But when the clean-shaven man opened his mouth not to grunt, but to speak, the large man shot an angry glare. What was this noise? This... speech? His mind felt fuller. His mouth moved to its own will and he growled out in a voice that sounded more feral than man.
"Pain. Hunger. Eat." | Name:
--
Sex:
Male
Appearance:
Soft build with substantial muscle hidden beneath his slight chub. Chiseled face and square jaw hidden beneath chubby cheeks and neck fat. Stands at 6 and a half feet, wide shoulders, large hands and feet, and round belly. Dark brown skin, icy blue eyes. Curly black hair.
Personality:
Spiteful, reclusive, hardened. One to stick to the sidelines at the beginning of an encounter and measure an opponent up before jumping in with almost malicious penchant for violence. Has a taste for cruelty. Otherwise fond of a good joke but can sometimes go too far.
Regards the weak with slight disdain but will play favorites if given time. Has a soft side that rarely shows.
Fighting Arts:
--
Disorders:
--
Weapon Proficiency:
--
Abilities:
--
Gear:
Very Large Loincloth
Founding Stone |
3,363 | 75 | 15 | 589 | 2,821 | The woman, one of the least injured among them, shared the burden of dragging the beast with the clean-shaven man, carrying it in shifts. They eventually reached the pillar of lanterns, and began to discuss their situation in short, clipped sentences. While the men discussed their pain, their hunger, and their triumph over the lion, the woman rested her hand on the warm lantern hoard, contemplating it aura of safety it radiated.
"Here... Home." She said, words rising unsteadily from her lips. "Kill again... come home here." | I'll be putting the settlement record here eventually, just gimme a bit. |
3,364 | 76 | 0 | 501 | 259 | All the world was engulfed in fog, a bank that blotted out stars, so thick that your hand could scarcely be seen a foot from your face, and one by one, scattered across nations and realms, the Six would find their continued journey through the blinding haze to be foolish. As suddenly as it emerged it would suddenly fade, retreating into the distance on a chill wind that howled through the leafless woods and barren fields. There was no sense of shift, no strange pulling or tearing sensation. No dizziness or disorientation, just a sudden change - one moment, the familiar. The next, fog, and as it faded, the unknown.
Around them was a wasteland gripped in winter. The remains of ancient battles long since passed littered the landscape, from broken siege machines now rotted and covered in vines to crumbling palisades and the stripped bones of long dead warriors. Looming ahead were titanic walls, once gleaming white now pockmarked with scars, spiderwebs of cracks around craters, and huge scorch marks. Atop the walls could be seen the tiny shapes of sentries moving between the ramparts, with small towers every few hundred feet bristling with ballistae. Beyond it they could see curtain walls and the massive spires of a fortress in the heart of the city.
The first thing Lily Beckett noticed was the sudden, bitter cold, her first reaction to draw her cloak tight, only to be caught staring around, wide-eyed at the sudden change, a shock that only grew as she noted she was not alone.
"Lammy? Eranah? What in Torm's name?" She furrowed her brow at the three strangers - and stranger seemed an apt descriptor of them. If it had ben their other companions from their quest it would have made a modicum of sense.
Over their head came a cawing, a legion of crows flying over them into that forboding city. The wind began to howl. | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,365 | 76 | 1 | 1,500 | 564 | Victor plunged his sword through the last goblin standing. The poor creature howled in pain and dropped its small dagger. It gripped the blade of Victor's sword trying to remove the blade from its chest. Victor put his boot up to the goblins chest and kicks him away to pull his sword free. The goblin died screaming in pain. Victor looked around him seeing the dead corpses of five goblins. A lone wolf walks up to Victor and spoke. A normal person would have been startled by this, but this wolf was his spirit companion. "Good work. These goblins won't be attacking any more of the villager's livestock."
"Indeed, now we take these goblin's head back and get the reward." Victor replied.
Victor moved to behead the goblins but suddenly a fog rolled in. It grew in its thickness until Victor could barely see the tip of his blade. He raised his sword in defense of a coming attack. He could not tell where even his spirit companion was. Without warning, the temperature took a nose dive. The change in temperature alerted Victor making him even more tense. The fog dissipated as quickly as it came. Victor found himself in unfamiliar lands. Scanning the area for threats, he spots a group of people not far from him. He looked them up and down trying to read if they were a treat. Quickly, he pulls out a cloth and wipes the goblin blood off his blade. With a clear sword he calls out to group, "Greetings, strangers. I am Victor Ultimara. Are you friend or foe? And By the Moons, Where in the Abyss am I?" | Name: Eranah
Gender: Female
Age: While appearing to be about 24, she has lived innumerable lifetimes and has simply ceased counting the years she has actually existed.
Race: Deva
Class: Cleric
Abilities: The area where she most excels is healing and aiding others. The gifts granted to her by The One Who Endures encompass both his boundless compassion and fiery wrath. With magic to heal and buff others while also having spells at her disposal which would tear enemies asunder or make them more open to the attacks of others for the pain and suffering they have brought to this world. She is also incredibly intelligent and wise, excelling at understanding even the most difficult concepts of scholasticism due in large part to her effective immortality. In order to better connect with her god she has also learned the arts of diplomacy and empathy with all living things. Learning how to use a kind word and open arms to heal the wounds which rest below the surface.
Alignment: Lawful Good (In this case the law being followed is not that of the world but instead of The Lord on the Rack Ilmater)
Appearance: Standing tall at 6'3" and thin at 165 lbs she is by no means outside the norm of her species. White lines form intricate symbols across the entirety of her body, her skin blue with eyes of pure white. Despite these features many humans would consider her very beautiful as would be expected of a Deva. Her hair kept at a medium length it's color pure white to match the symbols covering her body.
Personality: She is kind and generous to a fault. Keeping only those positions required to aid her in her mission. Her duty and honor is to live up to the ideals of The Crying God. To aid those who are in need and punish those who bring great suffering upon others. It is this which defines her and works for the time she has been "alive". Every action and word carefully chosen to further the alleviation of suffering from those who bring it upon others. She also shares many traits that exist among the Deva, enjoying the creation of art and following the angelic motifs of said art.
Inventory: Aside from the standard Adventuring kit she keeps only chainmail armor for her own defense and the symbol of Ilmater (the white hands bound with a blood red cord). Knowing the power of Ilmater can carry her through even the worst of troubles. She also keeps some supplies for drawing including paper and writing/drawing implements. All of her clothes are fine clothing, looking much nicer than the standard clothes expected of an adventurer. She wishes to be presentable at all times and takes great care to maintain cleanliness.
History: She has spent most of her time on this plane as a wandering healer and priest. Doing all she can to aid the sick, dying, poor, and oppressed. Her works are numerous but often small, healing a farmer, providing gold to the poor, sharing food with the hungry, and on occasion freeing slaves from their cruel masters. She also has been known to provide counseling to humans and aid to wounded animals. The only people she will attack are those who would harm others, and even then she knows to stay her hand from needless slaughter. It is often hard for her to focus on the world around her in cities as the amount of suffering can become unbearable, driving her to need others around her to keep her from simply moving from person to person in order to render aid. She can give the appearance of being unfocused and cryptic in some of the things she says, all she aims to do though is help. |
3,366 | 76 | 2 | 290 | 1,247 | As Eranah and her companions were transported she couldn't help the worry that hit here. It was however swiftly replaced with biting cold, doing all she could to warm herself up in her chainmail armor she looked over to her companions.
"By Ilmater, I hate being randomly transported." The Deva said, sitting down briefly in the snow as she caught her bearings. Victor walking up had her doing little more than standing up. Ilmater's symbol not at all hidden on the chest of her armor as she faced him.
"Greetings, we are no foes of yours. As for where we are, your guess would be as good as ours. I am Eranah." She replied, giving a small bow. | Name: Lilly The Silly Jester
Age: Ageless (But has been sentient for about twenty years now)
Sex: Female Persona
Race: Wandering Scarecrow
Class: Jester
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Appearance: A tall woman made out of straw, there are strands of rope that act as hair, Lilly always wears a mask that resembles a smiling woman with sharp teeth below that she wears a Red,Blue,Yellow jester outfit with bells and all. but the most noticeable feature of her outfit is her gloves, Boots and cape which only reaches her thighs, there made out of lantern silk so they gives off an ethereal light-blue glow
Equipment: A simple Dagger with a chain attached to the hilt, she also has a wrist mounted hidden Crossbow
Skills: Perform (Act and String Instruments), Tumble, Intimidate, Gather Information. Balance Harlequin’s Mask (Ex): As long as a Jester’s face is painted, masked, or adorned in the manner of a harlequin or other comedic figure, he is immune to compulsion effects.
Poison Use (Ex): A Jester may prepare, apply, and use poison without any chance of poisoning himself.
Ignore Components: A Jester may cast spells from the Jester list without using material components, unless they cost more than or equal to 1000 gp. This has no effect on any spells that a Jester casts from any other spell-list.
Power Slide (Ex): If a Jester takes damage from an attack, he may allow himself to be flung backwards, thereby lessening the impact. He may make a balance check with a DC equal to the damage inflicted and if she succeeds, he suffers only half damage. This is a skill check, not a Saving Throw, so abilities such as Evasion do not apply. He is moved away from the source of damage by 5' for every 5 points of damage (or part there of) negated in this way. If there is not enough space for him to move, he suffers a d6 of damage for each square not moved. If he passes through an occupied square provoking AoO, the Jester would have to make a tumble check to avoid any attacks of opportunity, following the rules of tumble.
Slapstick (Ex): any successful sneak attack also inflict a -2 Dex penalty to an enemy for one round.
Tricky Hands (Sp): the Jest has mastered Sleight of Hand and may produce any non-magical weapon from thin air as a quick action. Any enemy that can see your hands get to roll a Spot Check versus your Sleight of Hand, if they succeed this ability fails
Prat Fall (Ex): any time a Jester strikes an enemy with a sneak attack, the Jester can make a free Trip attack that does not provoke an Attack of Opportunity. This ability cannot be used on any one enemy more than once a round. The Jester may not be tripped if this fails, and it may be used with ranged sneak attacks. The Jester may substitute his Dexterity modifier for his Strength modifier for the opposed test to trip his foe.
Natural Abilities: Living Construct (Has no need for food, sleep or even breathing ) Sentinel Watcher (as stated above she doesn’t sleep so instead she becomes inactive for four hours but is fully aware of surroundings) Horror Gaze (She stares into her enemy’s eyes, Which fills them with so much fear that they freeze in place (Cannot be activated while wearing her mask)
Magic/Spells: Touch of Idiocy (With a Single touch Lilly can reduce her opponent’s Mental Facilities)
Hideous Laughter (This spell afflicts the subject with uncontrollable laughter. It collapses into gales of manic laughter, falling prone. The subject can take no actions while laughing, but is not considered helpless. After the spell ends, it can act normally.)
Shrink Item (self-explanatory)
Additional Information: She keeps her Instruments in her pocket
Personality: Lilly is armed with eternal curiosity which might cause problems to those around her, as she has a short attention span and as such will focus on one thing then quickly have her attention stolen by something else. Another thing as jester she is someone who constantly jokes around even in life or death situations she also surprisingly naïve on how the world function
Backstory: Some twenty years ago Lilly was scarecrow created by an evil elf wizard, to act as hindrance to Heroes but she never fulfilled this role because her master died before the heroes arrival, her master died thanks to a miscast so when heroes arrived all they found was dead wizard and a wandering Scarecrow, so with their jobs essentially done the heroes quickly grabbed whatever treasure could be found and this included her (she was taken by an ogre jester) she was essentially adopted by the ogre who thought her how to be jester |
3,367 | 76 | 3 | 1,551 | 217 | A blanket of fog was nothing new to the Druid, Lammy. Just another weird case of weather. It only got weirder as the fog never seemed to dissipate, and in fact, thickened to the point of impairment. The hawk perched on his shoulder would groan if she could. "SCREEE! (What in the seven hells is this?)" Sheeva complained, causing her companion to shrug. "Beats me. Think you can get atop it, find us a way out?" He suggested. With a compliant nod, she took off the best she could, taking to the skies to find an end to this fog. Though, even through ascension, the fog was impossibly thick.
And then, just like that, the fog disappeared. With nary a kiss goodbye or a "see you later". Lammy barely had the time to process all that was happening. Beside the instant weather change and depressing landscape, he also had to take into account the familiar cast of characters now standing alongside him. "Lammy? Eranah? What in Torm's name?" It was a familiar voice saying familiar names. Suffice to say, Lammy was a little excited.
"Lily?!" He spun towards the lady paladin, encasing her in a eager hug. He would've lifted her off her feet and spun her around if he could, but plate armor is heavy, and she was quite densely built for someone of her stature. A simple hug would have to do. "How are- What's been- You are-" There was a lot the boy wanted to say, and it all tried coming out at once. His face was growing so hot, he couldn't even tell it was cold out. So he took a step back, and took a deep breath. He looked past her, just briefly, and the cold, grim setting finally started to settle in. "...Where are we?" He asked simply, surveying the landscape.
Sheeva began to descend once the fog lifted. Equally confused as her partner, she began to return to him, only to realize he wasn't alone. "Familiar faces..." she thought, quite grimly. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,368 | 76 | 4 | 204 | 1,057 | Syeira did not like this. She did not like it at all. The mist was most unnatural. Mist most often occurred in the evenings and did not often survive the light of day. Mists did not suddenly spring into existence in the depths of night and here she was encompassed within them even into the witching hour. The lantern hanging from the metal rod over her head seemed completely unable to pierce the oppressive shroud which, in turn, forced her to horse to slow down to a plodding pace without her having to draw upon the reigns.
The crimson haired gur also noted that something else had changed. The great conifers that had been her honour guard down the highway had shed their needles and were now little more than bony claws stretching out to rake her flesh. The shadows had grown, eerily presenting themselves as darker patches of mist. It gave her the impression she was surrounded by ghastly shades eager to consume her very soul.
It was strange. Reason told her that she had not truly traveled so far, that she must be entering a bog or marsh but her other senses said different. She somehow felt that something magical had happened and she feared she had been somehow drawn into the lands of the unseelie or banished into the nine hells of Baator to be set upon by the devils there. None of these were pleasant thoughts and she nervously fondled the small skulls hanging at her waist.
The wagon bounced along the highway, the springs supporting the large wooden wheels squeaking gently and finally she found herself clear of the forest. At first she thought she had arrived and then she was startled to see her breath misting before her and a chill to the air. This alarmed her for there was never a mist in winter. The cold leached the moisture from the air. Yet, still there was mist. It was retreating, rolling away in all directions but it was there.
Syeira's green eyes gazed over what appeared to be the frozen remnants of an ancient battle. A mere of dead men, coated in rime, surrounded the shattered carcass of a citadel. She pulled her green cloak around her, golden coins lining it clinking together as she closed it over her bare belly to keep out the cold. Slowly she continued, twitching the reigns of the horse that had come to a stop, clearly as dumbfounded as she. Together they plodded forwards through the field of frozen corpses, wondering where in Faerun she could possibly be. | Syeira
Age: 26
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Class: Wizard
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Equipment: Syeira is a roving Gypsy with a Vardo wagon, a wooden walled wagon that is her home. Inside it are all the common implements one might expect including pots and pans. Attached to the top is a keg of water, several bags and small chests containing food and supplies.
Skills and Abilities: In addition to having access to several spells Syeira is a herbalist and crafter of potions.
Personality: Syeira has a scathing, dry personality. She has seen the worst of humanity. She's been chased out of towns at pitchfork point. She's been beaten and robbed and worse. As a result she has a rather low opinion of others. She usually keeps cynical nature hidden to customers who come to her seeking their fortunes read or to have a potion made effecting a sweet and trustworthy young woman.
While Neutral Evil, Syeira is not particularly murderous nor is she likely to blithely betray trusted comrades. Trust, after all, is a valuable commodity. She is, however, a coward and a shuckster. She has no qualms performing confidence jobs, rooking customers with dubious potions or otherwise making a quick bit of coin at someone's expense. Her personal favourite is a cure for common colds that works in just three to five days. It's amazing how often she sells those.
Backstory: Syeira was an orphan child, her father was a caravan merchant who getted her on the local strumpet. When her mother died only two years later, Syeira was left an orphan with no one to care for her. When the Gur came through and performed for the entertainment of the small settlement they refused to pay as was promised by the town villein and instead offered them the child as trade in lieu of payment.
The Gur were shocked, as slavery was something not seen in the Western Heartlands of Faerun, at least not outside of Waterdeep where Calishite caliphs and pashas often conducted business. Still, they took the child. For it was thought by their matriarch that it would greatly please their patron goddess Selune who was, by nature, a protector.
Thus Syeira group up with the Gur as one of them. She did stand out amongst them, with the Gur's dusky skin and dark hair, which was both a blessing and a curse for some of their number always saw her as an outsider and an outsider learning their secrets. She developed a number of thiefly skills for fleecing crowds when she was young but as she grew older she was often remarked for her insight which involved her learning to be a fortune teller. Occassionally, she would even glimpse strange images and was claimed to have "the sight".
Unfortunately, later in life as she reached her late teens, she incurred the lust of son of the group's "Big Man" and given his deluded notions of position, coupled with drink and the bawdy suggestions of his peers took to having his way with her in front of them. She, of course, responded by plunging a blade into his chest and nearly killed him... though not for lack of trying, having thrust into him thrice before being pulled from him kicking and screaming.
This event had dire consequences. It split the very clan apart in deeming the proper means to proceed and eventually it was determined that, for the good of the clan, she should depart for she would ever be a wedge, a schism in their group, forever setting them against one another. |
3,369 | 76 | 5 | 501 | 259 | Lammy, I'm happy to see you too. Lily said as the druid yanked her into a tight hug - hell, by the feel of it he'd have been crushing her ribs if she wasn't wearing armor. In other circumstances she'd probably have been a little more evocative in the joy she felt at seeing him again, and Eranah. But as it was a chill was running down her spine that robbed the moment of anything resembling happiness.
The first thing was the emptiness. Not just around them, the fields of death around the decaying city, something internal, like a spot in her heart that she hadn't even been consciously aware of, a point of warmth and light had suddenly been snuffed out. And yet her powers still coursed through her - reaching her hand down to half-draw Faith's Fire and seeing the pale flames begin to kindle along the blade was confirmation enough of that. That did little enough to comfort her, though.
"Eranah, do you feel it too?" If the Cleric did it would confirm Lily's fears - that wherever they were, they were beyond the sight and touch of their Gods, even if they could still draw upon their powers.
After Eranah replied Lily glanced around at the group. "We're not safe out here. Old battlefields like this are almost always haunted, and I see no signs this ground has been consecrated. Certainly no one has taken the time to lay the dead to rest properly." The Paladin grimaced. That city set off all her 'bad place' and 'don't want to go there' instincts, but they needed information, shelter, a place to start, and she saw no other options. "That city - look, it's not ruins. You can see men atop the walls, intact banners still flying. It must still be inhabited. We should make our way there, maybe someone there can explain why we've been brought here." | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,370 | 76 | 6 | 1,500 | 564 | Victor bowed his head slightly and respectfully in response to Eranah's gesture. At least, he was not among enemies, though he was still unwilling to assume these were friends. Immediately after Eranah answered his question, one in the group approached him spinning in such a merry way it repulsed him on principle but also got his interest. He moved his sword out of the way so she did not impale herself. She stopped before him and introduced herself and offered her hand in greetings. Victor carefully sheaths his sword without taking his eyes of this lady jester. Victor then extended his right hand and shook her hand firmly, "It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Lily. I cannot say I am ever happy to meet merry folk like yourself. They detract and distract from the seriousness and cruelty that is the reality of Life."
Victor looks past the jester before him at the rest of the group. Very interesting combination of souls. He could sense they were just as confused as they were. The lady knight however seemed to be the one to take command. Of course a paladin would be the one to take command. He looked at the walls of the city for the first time once she mentioned it. There was something about the walls that had told Victor not to look at them before. Now, he could not ignore them. He replied to the Paladin, "Wise choice, Fair lady. I have no idea how old these siege craft are. it is possible they are from a battle that just occurred yesterday. In that case, perhaps they are unwilling or unable to consecrated this ground yet. War has a way of reorganizing priorities." He spoke with confidence which he hoped would win him acceptance in the group. However, if he was to be honest, He was very worried. This land and its city were just wrong. Plus, his spirit companion was nowhere to be found. | Name: Eranah
Gender: Female
Age: While appearing to be about 24, she has lived innumerable lifetimes and has simply ceased counting the years she has actually existed.
Race: Deva
Class: Cleric
Abilities: The area where she most excels is healing and aiding others. The gifts granted to her by The One Who Endures encompass both his boundless compassion and fiery wrath. With magic to heal and buff others while also having spells at her disposal which would tear enemies asunder or make them more open to the attacks of others for the pain and suffering they have brought to this world. She is also incredibly intelligent and wise, excelling at understanding even the most difficult concepts of scholasticism due in large part to her effective immortality. In order to better connect with her god she has also learned the arts of diplomacy and empathy with all living things. Learning how to use a kind word and open arms to heal the wounds which rest below the surface.
Alignment: Lawful Good (In this case the law being followed is not that of the world but instead of The Lord on the Rack Ilmater)
Appearance: Standing tall at 6'3" and thin at 165 lbs she is by no means outside the norm of her species. White lines form intricate symbols across the entirety of her body, her skin blue with eyes of pure white. Despite these features many humans would consider her very beautiful as would be expected of a Deva. Her hair kept at a medium length it's color pure white to match the symbols covering her body.
Personality: She is kind and generous to a fault. Keeping only those positions required to aid her in her mission. Her duty and honor is to live up to the ideals of The Crying God. To aid those who are in need and punish those who bring great suffering upon others. It is this which defines her and works for the time she has been "alive". Every action and word carefully chosen to further the alleviation of suffering from those who bring it upon others. She also shares many traits that exist among the Deva, enjoying the creation of art and following the angelic motifs of said art.
Inventory: Aside from the standard Adventuring kit she keeps only chainmail armor for her own defense and the symbol of Ilmater (the white hands bound with a blood red cord). Knowing the power of Ilmater can carry her through even the worst of troubles. She also keeps some supplies for drawing including paper and writing/drawing implements. All of her clothes are fine clothing, looking much nicer than the standard clothes expected of an adventurer. She wishes to be presentable at all times and takes great care to maintain cleanliness.
History: She has spent most of her time on this plane as a wandering healer and priest. Doing all she can to aid the sick, dying, poor, and oppressed. Her works are numerous but often small, healing a farmer, providing gold to the poor, sharing food with the hungry, and on occasion freeing slaves from their cruel masters. She also has been known to provide counseling to humans and aid to wounded animals. The only people she will attack are those who would harm others, and even then she knows to stay her hand from needless slaughter. It is often hard for her to focus on the world around her in cities as the amount of suffering can become unbearable, driving her to need others around her to keep her from simply moving from person to person in order to render aid. She can give the appearance of being unfocused and cryptic in some of the things she says, all she aims to do though is help. |
3,371 | 76 | 7 | 501 | 259 | Eranah had exactly had a moment to do a bit of introspection. But once Lily pointed it out, she could feel it. There was always a bit of what Lily must now have been feeling, being a Deva, she had lived in the realm of Ilmater, as such entering the human world always caused a bit of a pit and feeling of disconnect. However this was something orders more intense. She was not only disconnected directly from the realm of Ilmater, it was a disconnect from any feeling of his presence at all. It was troubling, and in no small extent distressing. Her eyes growing a little wider and her breathing picking up as she tried to keep her composure for at least the sake of the others.
"Yes, I feel it too. The gods are not with us. They likely can neither hear nor see us." It was then she looked onto the broken battlefield, the lingering pain she felt in the area mirroring her own internal distress.
"I don't think going to the city is a good idea, but without anything better it seems to be our only option." She kept her eye to the sentries on the wall though, watching for any sign of attack or alarm. | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,372 | 76 | 8 | 1,551 | 217 | I'll go. Lammy was quick to volunteer. He had to push the millions of questions to the back of his mind for the moment, as there was a more important task at hand. But, one thought did manage to slip from his tongue. "Whew, it's a little nippy out here, innit?" He mumbled and shivered, his bare feet crunching down into the thin layer of snow. Had he known he would've been traveling into colder climates, he would've at least brought a cloak or something.
"Had half a mind to turn into a polar bear or something warmer, but I don't want these guys getting the wrong idea. I'd imagine a big white beast barreling towards your walls won't paint the best image." He mentioned with a anxious chuckle, making a quick turn towards the cold establishment on the horizon. "Wanna take the high road, Sheev?" He asked his mighty hawk companion. Naturally, she wasn't entirely sure that was a good idea at the moment.
"CHI-weirk? (You don't think that might be a bad idea?")" She questioned. She wasn't too keen to the thought of being shot down. "You should be fine, girl. I didn't see those guys shoot down any of the crows that flew by. I'll be right behind you." He reassured the hawk. She was still a little unsure of the plan, but willing to comply with her companions wishes. She took to the skies, leaving the dopey druid down below.
"Alright, i'm going. Don't hesitate to like, follow behind me or anything." He glanced towards the newer faces of the impromptu group. "I won't bite...not in this form, anyway." They were interesting looking folk, he'd have to remind himself to formally introduce himself to them whenever there was time. With one last confirming nod, began a careful walk towards the city. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,373 | 76 | 9 | 501 | 259 | Lily smiled at Lammy - not her Paladin's Smile, all larger than life heroism, pure confidence and chaste beauty, no, this was her private smile, muted and a little shy. "Knew you'd have it, Lammy. I'll be right with you." She took to following him. "Well, if they don't play nice you could try turning into that giant bear you figured out and just smashing the door in." | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,374 | 76 | 10 | 204 | 1,057 | Syeira's horse plodded along placidly. The vardo wagon jostled and bounced about at the whim of the ice crusted ruts that comprised this frozen road. The horse did not seem perturbed in the least the frozen corpses. In truth, they did not irk her overly but her horse was quite oblivious. There was no point in going back as she strongly suspected, given the sudden change in season, that going back would not return her thence she came. Fate decreed this for some reason. Be it the will of the gods or something else it had been decided for her. Thus she continued forward.
In time she approached a number of what seemed to be adventurers. At least, that's what an eclectic group of warriors, clergy and who knew what else evoked in her mind. They seemed newly met, certainly not a cohesive group from the way they held themselves apart from one another.
"Hail travelers," she greeted them, waving one hand decorated in circles and symbols in henna ink, "I do believe I am lost. By Waukeen's coin, pray someone tell me where we are?" | Syeira
Age: 26
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Class: Wizard
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Equipment: Syeira is a roving Gypsy with a Vardo wagon, a wooden walled wagon that is her home. Inside it are all the common implements one might expect including pots and pans. Attached to the top is a keg of water, several bags and small chests containing food and supplies.
Skills and Abilities: In addition to having access to several spells Syeira is a herbalist and crafter of potions.
Personality: Syeira has a scathing, dry personality. She has seen the worst of humanity. She's been chased out of towns at pitchfork point. She's been beaten and robbed and worse. As a result she has a rather low opinion of others. She usually keeps cynical nature hidden to customers who come to her seeking their fortunes read or to have a potion made effecting a sweet and trustworthy young woman.
While Neutral Evil, Syeira is not particularly murderous nor is she likely to blithely betray trusted comrades. Trust, after all, is a valuable commodity. She is, however, a coward and a shuckster. She has no qualms performing confidence jobs, rooking customers with dubious potions or otherwise making a quick bit of coin at someone's expense. Her personal favourite is a cure for common colds that works in just three to five days. It's amazing how often she sells those.
Backstory: Syeira was an orphan child, her father was a caravan merchant who getted her on the local strumpet. When her mother died only two years later, Syeira was left an orphan with no one to care for her. When the Gur came through and performed for the entertainment of the small settlement they refused to pay as was promised by the town villein and instead offered them the child as trade in lieu of payment.
The Gur were shocked, as slavery was something not seen in the Western Heartlands of Faerun, at least not outside of Waterdeep where Calishite caliphs and pashas often conducted business. Still, they took the child. For it was thought by their matriarch that it would greatly please their patron goddess Selune who was, by nature, a protector.
Thus Syeira group up with the Gur as one of them. She did stand out amongst them, with the Gur's dusky skin and dark hair, which was both a blessing and a curse for some of their number always saw her as an outsider and an outsider learning their secrets. She developed a number of thiefly skills for fleecing crowds when she was young but as she grew older she was often remarked for her insight which involved her learning to be a fortune teller. Occassionally, she would even glimpse strange images and was claimed to have "the sight".
Unfortunately, later in life as she reached her late teens, she incurred the lust of son of the group's "Big Man" and given his deluded notions of position, coupled with drink and the bawdy suggestions of his peers took to having his way with her in front of them. She, of course, responded by plunging a blade into his chest and nearly killed him... though not for lack of trying, having thrust into him thrice before being pulled from him kicking and screaming.
This event had dire consequences. It split the very clan apart in deeming the proper means to proceed and eventually it was determined that, for the good of the clan, she should depart for she would ever be a wedge, a schism in their group, forever setting them against one another. |
3,375 | 76 | 11 | 501 | 259 | Lily regarded the new traveler. "Well met, friend. I suspect we're in the same situation - let me guess, you were traveling, and a cloud of fog rose up around you. When it cleared you found yourself in this strange place?" Lily indicated their own band with a tilt of her head. "The same happened to us, we only arrived here moments ago. I am Lily Beckett, Knight of the Triad and Paladin of Torm. We're headed for that scarred city, it looks to still be inhabited. Hopefully someone there can answer our questions." | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,376 | 76 | 12 | 204 | 1,057 | The crimson haired lady, adjusted her coin lined emerald hued hood so that those below could better see her. It was a simple gesture that implied openness and honesty. Nobody ever trusted someone that hid her face inside a hood all the time. She was pale of complexion which caused the henna lines on her face and leather headband with its semiprecious stones to stand out in stark contrast.
Oh wonderful, Syeira thought to herself, a paladin. Worse still, the woman had a surname which likely meant noble lineage; That or pretentious nature. Still, there were none better to protect thieves, scalawags and confidence women. The greatest ally of villainy they were as you had to actually perform an act of ill nature before them before they swept into action. As a result, though she was not overly fond of their prattling about gods and duty, she had to admit she did feel a bit safer given the hellish landscape that surrounded them.
"Syeira-," she replied, breath misting before her ruby painted lips. She would have offered her hand save for the fact she was leaning down from atop the wooden walled wagon. "-and you are quite correct. The mists were subtle but even a fool could not miss the sudden shift from the month of Kythorn to Alturiak in the span of moments"
Syeira adjusted the blanket she had wrapped around her body which was beginning to fall and tucked it back into place.
"You speek sooth noble knight," she then added, "I shall join you, if you would have me, upon this short dallying trip." | Syeira
Age: 26
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Class: Wizard
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Equipment: Syeira is a roving Gypsy with a Vardo wagon, a wooden walled wagon that is her home. Inside it are all the common implements one might expect including pots and pans. Attached to the top is a keg of water, several bags and small chests containing food and supplies.
Skills and Abilities: In addition to having access to several spells Syeira is a herbalist and crafter of potions.
Personality: Syeira has a scathing, dry personality. She has seen the worst of humanity. She's been chased out of towns at pitchfork point. She's been beaten and robbed and worse. As a result she has a rather low opinion of others. She usually keeps cynical nature hidden to customers who come to her seeking their fortunes read or to have a potion made effecting a sweet and trustworthy young woman.
While Neutral Evil, Syeira is not particularly murderous nor is she likely to blithely betray trusted comrades. Trust, after all, is a valuable commodity. She is, however, a coward and a shuckster. She has no qualms performing confidence jobs, rooking customers with dubious potions or otherwise making a quick bit of coin at someone's expense. Her personal favourite is a cure for common colds that works in just three to five days. It's amazing how often she sells those.
Backstory: Syeira was an orphan child, her father was a caravan merchant who getted her on the local strumpet. When her mother died only two years later, Syeira was left an orphan with no one to care for her. When the Gur came through and performed for the entertainment of the small settlement they refused to pay as was promised by the town villein and instead offered them the child as trade in lieu of payment.
The Gur were shocked, as slavery was something not seen in the Western Heartlands of Faerun, at least not outside of Waterdeep where Calishite caliphs and pashas often conducted business. Still, they took the child. For it was thought by their matriarch that it would greatly please their patron goddess Selune who was, by nature, a protector.
Thus Syeira group up with the Gur as one of them. She did stand out amongst them, with the Gur's dusky skin and dark hair, which was both a blessing and a curse for some of their number always saw her as an outsider and an outsider learning their secrets. She developed a number of thiefly skills for fleecing crowds when she was young but as she grew older she was often remarked for her insight which involved her learning to be a fortune teller. Occassionally, she would even glimpse strange images and was claimed to have "the sight".
Unfortunately, later in life as she reached her late teens, she incurred the lust of son of the group's "Big Man" and given his deluded notions of position, coupled with drink and the bawdy suggestions of his peers took to having his way with her in front of them. She, of course, responded by plunging a blade into his chest and nearly killed him... though not for lack of trying, having thrust into him thrice before being pulled from him kicking and screaming.
This event had dire consequences. It split the very clan apart in deeming the proper means to proceed and eventually it was determined that, for the good of the clan, she should depart for she would ever be a wedge, a schism in their group, forever setting them against one another. |
3,377 | 76 | 13 | 1,551 | 217 | I see no reason to disallow you from joining us. Eranah, cleric of The One Who Endures. She said, preferring to go with the longer version of the name this time, the symbol on her chest standing out as she looked over their newest companion. Her Deva heritage in no way hidden or concealed.
"We should only be so lucky that this trip is short. Though I doubt luck is on our side to begin with in this case." She commented as they all continued to the city, deciding to take a closer look at the dead outside the city. Trying to figure out how they might have died. While likely by battle there were many ways one could die in a siege, whether disease or the defenders riding out to defeat their attackers, each method was unique. It might also reveal something about the makeup of this nation, even if she didn't know its name. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,378 | 76 | 14 | 54 | 1,340 | The air hung heavy with wafts of smoke from those puffing away on smoldering pipes in the large tavern in the city by the sea. The smell of salt mixed with that of mead, and ale and the road. Boisterous patrons rambled on about this and that and the clinking sound of plate and pint rung into the air.
A single strum of a lute echoed over the chaos and and slowly the tavern quieted down. It was rare to hear such silence in the place but over the last days word had spread of the voice that sung each night. It drew the patrons in and let the ale and coin flow freely. Hearing the note they knew it was time. Over in a small corner there was a single small bench where two people sat.
The first was a handsome clean shaven dark haired man with obsidian eyes dressed in similarly dark garb. He sat there with a weathered lute an a cheshire grin playing on his features. The other no one could tell, for they had a cloak covering their form and the mantle drawn to hide their visage.
Tilting his head to the side he seemed to whisper something against the others ear, the other nodding and he began. The notes came slowly in a melancholy
fashion, his voice was deep and rich as it began to fall into the air as he sung.
"Final sign of veracity in the open palm of your enemy. Going down, down, down is a sign of my own demise. Indoctrination leads to lethal dedication to a torment of hopeless cries," he sung alone as he strummed away, his fingers working elegantly over the strings.
"There's no reason to believe that I will be on my way. See your future in decay but you won't hear me when I say; so come on," the other figure began to sing as the man let his lips fall silent. A velvety feminine voice rung out over the crowd.
"Hear me, see me what I tried to find was emancipation of the human mind. Hear me, see me, put your life on the line. A confirmation of your strife if you leave everything behind," they sung together as the notes went silent from the lute, their voices melding in harmony.
"Like a drop of blood in the open sea revelation hides a tenacity," he sung alone as he began to play once again before their voices melded once again.
"Going down, down down is a sign of our own demise. Indoctrination leads to lethal dedication. No world order to analyze," the sung together.
"There's no reason to believe that I would be on my way. See your future in decay but you won't hear me when I say: so come on," the woman sung alone as she gently pulled the hood of her mantle back revealing soft golden hair and pale olive sun kissed skin.
"Hear me, see me, what I tried to find was emancipation of a human mind. Hear me, see me, put your line. A confirmation on your strife," the woman sang along as the speed of the lutes strumming increased.
"Feel me, hear me, while I try to say liberation was my only way. Here's my reason I tried to decide if restoration of my pride will leave everything behind," the woman sang as her voice rose in fervor, the lute falling slowly silent as she stood.
"Here me, see me what I tried to find was emancipation of a human mind. Hear me, see me, put your life on the line; a confirmation of your strife. You leave everything behind," they chorused together before falling silent.
The room held silent for a moment before cheering and asking for more. The woman shook her head and gathered her items, slinging her bow across her back and pushing out of the tavern into the dark night. The man that had sung with her sat there watching her before turning and gathering his own items. As he stepped outside she was gone and nothing remained but a dense fog rolling out.
His dark eyes went frantic as he searched. Yelling her name. "Sana!"
----
The fog slowly faded from around Sana and she growled under her breath through gritted teeth as she looked around.
"Not again!" she yelled as she drew her bow and nocked an arrow into place from her quiver. Shaking her head she glanced about before making her way towards the only sign of life left within sight. "I am getting sick of fogs whisking me around all of creation!" | Name: Sana Rawn
Age: 31
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Race: Human
Class: Marksman/Gypsy(Bard)
Appearance/Clothing:
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 125 lbs
Hair color, texture, length, style: Dirty ash blonde with layers from ears to shoulders. Her hair is usually worn with shorter layers crimped and pulled back with a few loose strands around her face, the longer layers are curled under and left loose falling to her shoulders.
Eye look, shape & color: Milk Chocolate with amber specks, round eyes with a slight slant at the outer corners.
Skin Tone: Tanned with olive undertones.
Body Type: Toned body over all with very defined arm muscles.
Voice/Accent: Her voice has a tad deeper intonation than most women and is slightly raspy. Sana has a stunningly beautiful voice when she sings but it is something that she rarely does.
Clothing:
Warm Weather - She wears a very simple halter top made of tanned leather that tied around the back of her neck and is trimmed in a deep brown rawhide. She wears a matching shorts that is slit on each side of her thighs as to not to hinder her movements. Her boots are a soft suede material that come up to just below her knees and lace up the entire way, soft soles, no heels. She wears a sheer mantle that flows to the ground and is trimmed in the same material as her halter top, usually pulled over her arms to hide their definition.
Moderate to Cold Weather –
Outfit:
Cloak:
Gypsy Clothing -
Skills: Agility, acrobatics, gymnastics, ambidextrous, riding, fletching; excellent marksman with a bow and skilled dagger thrower. Knows some close combat fighting, using her bow in a staff like manner. When weaponless Sana will use her knowledge of acrobatics and gymnastics, combined with her agility, to attack and defend herself.
Natural Abilities: None - Human
Magic/Spells: Sana knows many bard songs but is unaware of which ones she can actually cast. Below is a list of songs she has been able to cast successfully so far.
Trust Me: Beauty From Pain - An inspire trust spell that is activated when she sings. Spell has a 75% chance of working on one target in the line of sight. Effect lasts 20 minutes - can cast once a day
Courageous Heal: Everything Burns - A triple effect spell activated when she sings. It hits all allys in a fight. It heals up to moderate wounds, gives a +2 to attack hits and +2 to damage. Does not work on Sana and drains her terribly after casting. Plus to damage and to hit lasts 5 rounds. (Side effect is due to the nature of the spell it will make those that it hits feel more courageous during the casting.) - Can cast once every three days.
Beacon: Flashlight - This song brings about a pillar of light that breaks through low light, darkness and obscured vision. (Such as mist, fog, smoke and rain). It has no special effect other than being able to be seen from up to a mile away no matter the level of light or density of obscurity. Cannot be seen through rock or stone but will follow a path until it reaches the sky if possible. The song itself will carry with the light and can be heard as far as the light can be seen. The light will continue as long as the song continues and fade once it stops. The end verse can continue to be repeated to last as long as the singer can sing. It can be cast once a day but if it is an extended version of the song it takes away from the next days ability. Each time it is extended, it takes another day to recharge it.
Masquerade: Burn With Me - During the course of the song Sana is able to completely change the look and voice of herself and up to one more party member. The illusion is true even if touched and lasts 24 hours, it can be dispersed by break illusion spells or if the person it is cast on speaks the words "The Masquerade Is Over" - Can be cast once every 12 hours
Winter Storm: Cold But I'm Still Here - This is currently Sanas only true attack spell. During casting the temperature of an area that spans out in a 60 foot radius around her will begin to cool down, the ground will frost over as well as other materials that normally would in such conditions. Using her hand movements she can direct up to five beams of ice from her palms during the song to strike opponents or other applications as she made need.(such as a wall of ice or to freeze a lake to be able to walk on) - she may contain her five beams to the end of the song and let it out as a single attack that will form a wall of ice three feet thick and ten feet high in a circle with a 30 foot diameter. Ice attacks will melt as normal for air temp. Wall will last until she stops singing as long as it isn't destroyed. (She may repeat the song until she cannot sing anymore to keep the wall up but may not do anything else but sing.) - can be cast once a week.
Additional Information:
Significant Other: Hugh Van Halder - Does not know where he is anymore
Sister: Ramara Rawn - presumed dead
Cousin: Ariana Rawn
Sana is scarred now with a line from her right ear to her jaw on her face, small puncture scars on her right shoulder from a hound bite and a burn scar from the right side of her neck at her jaw line, that front side of her chest, down her arm to the elbow and her back to the bottom of her shoulder blade.
Armor: An arm cuff that is enchanted with Barkskin.
Weapons: She carried one small dagger that is used for cutting up meat before cooking for the most part though is works as a throwing dagger if need be. Nothing special about it, the blade is 6 inches of plain steel while the hilt is carved oak. Her other and main weapon is a Recurve Bow that was hand carved for her; she uses cedar arrows that resist warping. She possesses a Silver Dagger found in the chest of a Liches Layer as well as a second quiver of silver arrows provided to her by the Elven Army of Corellan Larethian.
Possessions: Clothing, weapons, pack, dried fruits and meats, water skin, rope, fletching items, rags, needle, threads, horse, grooming items, tent, chain with her parents wedding bands on it that she wears around her neck.
Personality: Sana in the past has been known to be rather quiet and untrusting, hard to get close to. She preferred to be left alone and detests asking for help; a very stubborn woman who preferred to do things alone than in a group. Though since meeting Hugh she has softened some and come to accept things. Now a days she doesn’t mind the group setting so much but prefers to be alongside Hugh during most situations. She can be rather outspoken at times but has a good heart and tends to help people in need even without being asked. Handing over items that one may need without a word and just walking away. If she does get mad though she will lash out either verbally or physically and when a new comer approaching she will draw and stand ready to strike them down if provoked.
History: She comes from a wandering band of gypsy that she left long ago for she refused to become what they wanted her to be. Another dancer and entertainer for the group. She was a tom boy growing up who preferred to spend time with a bow and arrow than a person. Though she never sought the way of her people she is very defensive of them and knows their ways. Skilled in song, dance, showmanship. Nothing traumatic happened during her childhood or growing up but being the typical teenager, hated what her parents wanted for her and in the end left those she knew for a world she wanted to know.
After she reached maturity she decided to leave the home and family she knew and set out on her own. Over the years she has worked in various towns trading furs from animals she has killed on her journeys and worked mercenary from time to time as wars broke out, utilizing her skills as a marksman.
During a journey through the desert when she was grouped with adventurers she met an older and kind hearted man by the name of Hugh whom she found herself drawn to. She was captured by a Lich and taken off to be sacrificed, if it had not been for Hugh she would have been slaughtered on the granite sacrificial tomb she was tied to. Though she has never out right stated that she loves him, it is more than evident in the way she acts around him and carries herself now.
Sana traveled with Hugh for a long time. During an adventure she was snatched by a traveling fog that divided up her, as well as some others in the group she was adventuring with. When this happened, Hugh left the group but before Sana was taken. She is unaware of him walking away and has no idea why because of this. Since she was dropped off by the fog she had worked to get back with the adventuring party to find Hugh once again, thinking he is still with them.
Previous Rp: Sands Of Blood, Cinder Sickness |
3,379 | 76 | 15 | 501 | 259 | The rag-tag group of travelers soon arrived at the city gates. Up close the walls didn't look a lot better than they did at a distance, spiderwebbed with huge cracks, portions of the wall appearing to be piles of rubble poured in to fill gaps. The towers, bristling with ballistae and onagers at a distance could be seen to be in disrepair up close, many of them visibly damaged or warped. The gates were open, a handful of guards loitering around it in mail armor that ill-fitted them, leaning against posts or idly poking at the moat with old, water-warped spears. One of them looked up at the group, revealing a face that looked to be no more than fourteen summers.
"Oi!" The others looked up from their various means of dawdling and came to something resembling a military manner - a bunch of boys who looked about like they hadn't quite finished nursing. "Dolsie, go fetch sergeant!"
"Gads balls, Siemann!" One of them ran into the city, presumably Dolsie, returning a minute or so later with a tired-looking old man with a hammer hanging from his belt. He wore no armor, only a surcoat bearing arms - a black tower with a golden ring around it on a field of gray.
"Visitors? To Falstaff? You must've lost your way, no one comes to Falstaff." The Sergeant's hair was thin and gray, and his face was heavily lined and gaunt, he looked as though one good push and he'd drop dead. | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,380 | 76 | 16 | 54 | 1,340 | Pulling the hood of her mantle up and her cloak tight she meandered her way quickly and quietly towards the settlement. The silver string of her bow pulled half taunt with an arrow nocked into place she kept it low but at the ready.
The last several long moments of her life had been a world wind of confusion and when she had just began to believe that she was close to locating what she had been searching for another fog had whisked her away to places unknown. She was beginning to think she was as cursed as the rest of her troop.
Seeing a group ahead she lowered the bow more but tightened her grip on the wood. She had no exactly had the best of luck in the last days and she would rather slaughter by mistake at this point than let live those that should die. She was not about to let her trust come easily these days.
"Where is this?" she asked quickly in a firm voice as her amber dotted chocolate eyes danced over the group before her. | Name: Sana Rawn
Age: 31
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Race: Human
Class: Marksman/Gypsy(Bard)
Appearance/Clothing:
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 125 lbs
Hair color, texture, length, style: Dirty ash blonde with layers from ears to shoulders. Her hair is usually worn with shorter layers crimped and pulled back with a few loose strands around her face, the longer layers are curled under and left loose falling to her shoulders.
Eye look, shape & color: Milk Chocolate with amber specks, round eyes with a slight slant at the outer corners.
Skin Tone: Tanned with olive undertones.
Body Type: Toned body over all with very defined arm muscles.
Voice/Accent: Her voice has a tad deeper intonation than most women and is slightly raspy. Sana has a stunningly beautiful voice when she sings but it is something that she rarely does.
Clothing:
Warm Weather - She wears a very simple halter top made of tanned leather that tied around the back of her neck and is trimmed in a deep brown rawhide. She wears a matching shorts that is slit on each side of her thighs as to not to hinder her movements. Her boots are a soft suede material that come up to just below her knees and lace up the entire way, soft soles, no heels. She wears a sheer mantle that flows to the ground and is trimmed in the same material as her halter top, usually pulled over her arms to hide their definition.
Moderate to Cold Weather –
Outfit:
Cloak:
Gypsy Clothing -
Skills: Agility, acrobatics, gymnastics, ambidextrous, riding, fletching; excellent marksman with a bow and skilled dagger thrower. Knows some close combat fighting, using her bow in a staff like manner. When weaponless Sana will use her knowledge of acrobatics and gymnastics, combined with her agility, to attack and defend herself.
Natural Abilities: None - Human
Magic/Spells: Sana knows many bard songs but is unaware of which ones she can actually cast. Below is a list of songs she has been able to cast successfully so far.
Trust Me: Beauty From Pain - An inspire trust spell that is activated when she sings. Spell has a 75% chance of working on one target in the line of sight. Effect lasts 20 minutes - can cast once a day
Courageous Heal: Everything Burns - A triple effect spell activated when she sings. It hits all allys in a fight. It heals up to moderate wounds, gives a +2 to attack hits and +2 to damage. Does not work on Sana and drains her terribly after casting. Plus to damage and to hit lasts 5 rounds. (Side effect is due to the nature of the spell it will make those that it hits feel more courageous during the casting.) - Can cast once every three days.
Beacon: Flashlight - This song brings about a pillar of light that breaks through low light, darkness and obscured vision. (Such as mist, fog, smoke and rain). It has no special effect other than being able to be seen from up to a mile away no matter the level of light or density of obscurity. Cannot be seen through rock or stone but will follow a path until it reaches the sky if possible. The song itself will carry with the light and can be heard as far as the light can be seen. The light will continue as long as the song continues and fade once it stops. The end verse can continue to be repeated to last as long as the singer can sing. It can be cast once a day but if it is an extended version of the song it takes away from the next days ability. Each time it is extended, it takes another day to recharge it.
Masquerade: Burn With Me - During the course of the song Sana is able to completely change the look and voice of herself and up to one more party member. The illusion is true even if touched and lasts 24 hours, it can be dispersed by break illusion spells or if the person it is cast on speaks the words "The Masquerade Is Over" - Can be cast once every 12 hours
Winter Storm: Cold But I'm Still Here - This is currently Sanas only true attack spell. During casting the temperature of an area that spans out in a 60 foot radius around her will begin to cool down, the ground will frost over as well as other materials that normally would in such conditions. Using her hand movements she can direct up to five beams of ice from her palms during the song to strike opponents or other applications as she made need.(such as a wall of ice or to freeze a lake to be able to walk on) - she may contain her five beams to the end of the song and let it out as a single attack that will form a wall of ice three feet thick and ten feet high in a circle with a 30 foot diameter. Ice attacks will melt as normal for air temp. Wall will last until she stops singing as long as it isn't destroyed. (She may repeat the song until she cannot sing anymore to keep the wall up but may not do anything else but sing.) - can be cast once a week.
Additional Information:
Significant Other: Hugh Van Halder - Does not know where he is anymore
Sister: Ramara Rawn - presumed dead
Cousin: Ariana Rawn
Sana is scarred now with a line from her right ear to her jaw on her face, small puncture scars on her right shoulder from a hound bite and a burn scar from the right side of her neck at her jaw line, that front side of her chest, down her arm to the elbow and her back to the bottom of her shoulder blade.
Armor: An arm cuff that is enchanted with Barkskin.
Weapons: She carried one small dagger that is used for cutting up meat before cooking for the most part though is works as a throwing dagger if need be. Nothing special about it, the blade is 6 inches of plain steel while the hilt is carved oak. Her other and main weapon is a Recurve Bow that was hand carved for her; she uses cedar arrows that resist warping. She possesses a Silver Dagger found in the chest of a Liches Layer as well as a second quiver of silver arrows provided to her by the Elven Army of Corellan Larethian.
Possessions: Clothing, weapons, pack, dried fruits and meats, water skin, rope, fletching items, rags, needle, threads, horse, grooming items, tent, chain with her parents wedding bands on it that she wears around her neck.
Personality: Sana in the past has been known to be rather quiet and untrusting, hard to get close to. She preferred to be left alone and detests asking for help; a very stubborn woman who preferred to do things alone than in a group. Though since meeting Hugh she has softened some and come to accept things. Now a days she doesn’t mind the group setting so much but prefers to be alongside Hugh during most situations. She can be rather outspoken at times but has a good heart and tends to help people in need even without being asked. Handing over items that one may need without a word and just walking away. If she does get mad though she will lash out either verbally or physically and when a new comer approaching she will draw and stand ready to strike them down if provoked.
History: She comes from a wandering band of gypsy that she left long ago for she refused to become what they wanted her to be. Another dancer and entertainer for the group. She was a tom boy growing up who preferred to spend time with a bow and arrow than a person. Though she never sought the way of her people she is very defensive of them and knows their ways. Skilled in song, dance, showmanship. Nothing traumatic happened during her childhood or growing up but being the typical teenager, hated what her parents wanted for her and in the end left those she knew for a world she wanted to know.
After she reached maturity she decided to leave the home and family she knew and set out on her own. Over the years she has worked in various towns trading furs from animals she has killed on her journeys and worked mercenary from time to time as wars broke out, utilizing her skills as a marksman.
During a journey through the desert when she was grouped with adventurers she met an older and kind hearted man by the name of Hugh whom she found herself drawn to. She was captured by a Lich and taken off to be sacrificed, if it had not been for Hugh she would have been slaughtered on the granite sacrificial tomb she was tied to. Though she has never out right stated that she loves him, it is more than evident in the way she acts around him and carries herself now.
Sana traveled with Hugh for a long time. During an adventure she was snatched by a traveling fog that divided up her, as well as some others in the group she was adventuring with. When this happened, Hugh left the group but before Sana was taken. She is unaware of him walking away and has no idea why because of this. Since she was dropped off by the fog she had worked to get back with the adventuring party to find Hugh once again, thinking he is still with them.
Previous Rp: Sands Of Blood, Cinder Sickness |
3,381 | 76 | 17 | 1,551 | 217 | Lammy's anxiousness melted a bit as the group approached the city's walls, what once seemed imposing and fearsome looked quite pitiful up close. The soldiers watching the wall were nothing more than bewildered children, surprised to see equally confused individuals approach their moat. Their weapons were old, and damaged, and looked like they could fall apart at any second. "Someone should look into ironwood for this army..." Lammy pondered as he watched one of the kids summon for their superior. And then he had to look on as their commander approached them. The druid had to admit, the man moved kinda fast for someone his age.
"You must've lost your way, no one comes to Falstaff." The Sergeant mentioned. Given the pitiful state of affairs the city seemed to be in, Lammy could understand why. "This was the nearest thing resembling civilization, so we didn't have much of a choice-" Sheeva flapped down in this moment, landing at her usual perch. "Chiiiweirk chiweirk! (Y'know, I don't know why I was so scared of these soldiers. Ha, These kids couldn't hurt me even with good weapons!)" The red-tailed hawk would've scoffed if she could've.
"So...Falstaff? Is that like, the name of the town...or the whole country?" Lammy questioned with hesitation. "I'm also wondering if the fog teleportation is a typical thing for you guys, or if the lot of us were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Just as he mentioned the foggy phenomena, another individual entered the scene, her bow at the ready.
"Where is this?" She interrupted. Sheeva's head cocked towards the girl, curious at the mystery archer's urgent demeanor. "Falstaff, apparently." Lammy mumbled back quickly, before turning his attention back to the elderly Sergeant. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,382 | 76 | 18 | 204 | 1,057 | After inviting the wildling boy up atop her wagon Syeira encouraged the young man to fetch another throw blanket and then turned her attention to following the others. Rather, her horse seemed quite content to follow the others. It was a follower by instinct. He was a reliable horse with a good deal of endurance but lacked the spirit to be of use to a warrior's steed.
Even as they approached Syeira was thinking, drawing conclusions, tossing them aside and then formulating new theories as more information presented itself. Obviously there had been a great battle here but none remained to deal with the aftermath. Further, the city was guarded by the old instead of more youthful soldiers while children, who should be working, were running about. This led Syeira to believe that those of middle age, had either gone off to war or had otherwise gone missing. Otherwise their parents would likely be employing them in other endeavours. Her final hypothesis was that the middle aged men had all gone off to war.
Then her small wildling companion began to blurt out questions in a most unsubtle manner before a woman with a nocked arrow presented herself. A knocked arrow was rather rude but she rather imagined her new companions, being so just and chivalrous, would handle the situation without her intervention. Still, in the case of things didn't go well she readied a few spells, bringing them to the tip of her tongue. | Syeira
Age: 26
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Class: Wizard
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Equipment: Syeira is a roving Gypsy with a Vardo wagon, a wooden walled wagon that is her home. Inside it are all the common implements one might expect including pots and pans. Attached to the top is a keg of water, several bags and small chests containing food and supplies.
Skills and Abilities: In addition to having access to several spells Syeira is a herbalist and crafter of potions.
Personality: Syeira has a scathing, dry personality. She has seen the worst of humanity. She's been chased out of towns at pitchfork point. She's been beaten and robbed and worse. As a result she has a rather low opinion of others. She usually keeps cynical nature hidden to customers who come to her seeking their fortunes read or to have a potion made effecting a sweet and trustworthy young woman.
While Neutral Evil, Syeira is not particularly murderous nor is she likely to blithely betray trusted comrades. Trust, after all, is a valuable commodity. She is, however, a coward and a shuckster. She has no qualms performing confidence jobs, rooking customers with dubious potions or otherwise making a quick bit of coin at someone's expense. Her personal favourite is a cure for common colds that works in just three to five days. It's amazing how often she sells those.
Backstory: Syeira was an orphan child, her father was a caravan merchant who getted her on the local strumpet. When her mother died only two years later, Syeira was left an orphan with no one to care for her. When the Gur came through and performed for the entertainment of the small settlement they refused to pay as was promised by the town villein and instead offered them the child as trade in lieu of payment.
The Gur were shocked, as slavery was something not seen in the Western Heartlands of Faerun, at least not outside of Waterdeep where Calishite caliphs and pashas often conducted business. Still, they took the child. For it was thought by their matriarch that it would greatly please their patron goddess Selune who was, by nature, a protector.
Thus Syeira group up with the Gur as one of them. She did stand out amongst them, with the Gur's dusky skin and dark hair, which was both a blessing and a curse for some of their number always saw her as an outsider and an outsider learning their secrets. She developed a number of thiefly skills for fleecing crowds when she was young but as she grew older she was often remarked for her insight which involved her learning to be a fortune teller. Occassionally, she would even glimpse strange images and was claimed to have "the sight".
Unfortunately, later in life as she reached her late teens, she incurred the lust of son of the group's "Big Man" and given his deluded notions of position, coupled with drink and the bawdy suggestions of his peers took to having his way with her in front of them. She, of course, responded by plunging a blade into his chest and nearly killed him... though not for lack of trying, having thrust into him thrice before being pulled from him kicking and screaming.
This event had dire consequences. It split the very clan apart in deeming the proper means to proceed and eventually it was determined that, for the good of the clan, she should depart for she would ever be a wedge, a schism in their group, forever setting them against one another. |
3,383 | 76 | 19 | 501 | 259 | Fog? The sergeant said. He was already a pale, half-dead looking kind of guy, but hearing that made him go a little paler and a little more dead looking. "Reckon you'd best step inside. We ain't had Mist-taken since, my Gran were a lass." He pointed at the boys. "Let 'em through, lads. If'n the Lord Above wants them here ain't much the likes of us can do to stop them."
Lily didn't feel much like contesting that point - they had equal numbers and quite frankly she had a feeling she could take on all of them single-handedly without a fight. These were stableboys, not soldiers.
The Sergeant led them inside as the Boy-Soldiers stepped aside, watching them past before going back to generally lying about, chattering amongst themselves. The Sergeant shook his head. "It weren't so long ago that we had men of iron guarding those gates, and boys like that would've been doing what boys that age should be, properly apprenticed or chasing gals, or whatever you young folk do." He glanced at the younger members of the group. "Beggin' your pardon, of course."
"Falstaff's the city. County of Fairhaven. Course, ain't so fair these days...ain't much of a haven, neither." | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,384 | 76 | 20 | 54 | 1,340 | Sana grumbled to herself, that really didn't tell her anything but inside was better than outside as far as she was concerned at this point. She slowly stepped into the building and glanced around, her bow and nocked arrow still held low. She had made the mistake of grouping up with people in the middle of no where before and it biting her in the backend. She was not about to make that mistake again. She didn't care if they were good people or not, any one of them could be driven to do things they normally wouldn't have under the right circumstances. She had and it had lended to her having a very distasteful nickname among the lat group she had been traveling with.
Leaning back against a wall she blew a heavy huff and sent her bangs flying out of her face as she listened to those speaking around her. She wasn't going to play the leader or speaker this time, she had no desire to get to know these people. She just wanted to get out of here are quickly as possible. She hadn't even introduced herself and figured there was no reason to at this point. | Name: Sana Rawn
Age: 31
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Race: Human
Class: Marksman/Gypsy(Bard)
Appearance/Clothing:
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 125 lbs
Hair color, texture, length, style: Dirty ash blonde with layers from ears to shoulders. Her hair is usually worn with shorter layers crimped and pulled back with a few loose strands around her face, the longer layers are curled under and left loose falling to her shoulders.
Eye look, shape & color: Milk Chocolate with amber specks, round eyes with a slight slant at the outer corners.
Skin Tone: Tanned with olive undertones.
Body Type: Toned body over all with very defined arm muscles.
Voice/Accent: Her voice has a tad deeper intonation than most women and is slightly raspy. Sana has a stunningly beautiful voice when she sings but it is something that she rarely does.
Clothing:
Warm Weather - She wears a very simple halter top made of tanned leather that tied around the back of her neck and is trimmed in a deep brown rawhide. She wears a matching shorts that is slit on each side of her thighs as to not to hinder her movements. Her boots are a soft suede material that come up to just below her knees and lace up the entire way, soft soles, no heels. She wears a sheer mantle that flows to the ground and is trimmed in the same material as her halter top, usually pulled over her arms to hide their definition.
Moderate to Cold Weather –
Outfit:
Cloak:
Gypsy Clothing -
Skills: Agility, acrobatics, gymnastics, ambidextrous, riding, fletching; excellent marksman with a bow and skilled dagger thrower. Knows some close combat fighting, using her bow in a staff like manner. When weaponless Sana will use her knowledge of acrobatics and gymnastics, combined with her agility, to attack and defend herself.
Natural Abilities: None - Human
Magic/Spells: Sana knows many bard songs but is unaware of which ones she can actually cast. Below is a list of songs she has been able to cast successfully so far.
Trust Me: Beauty From Pain - An inspire trust spell that is activated when she sings. Spell has a 75% chance of working on one target in the line of sight. Effect lasts 20 minutes - can cast once a day
Courageous Heal: Everything Burns - A triple effect spell activated when she sings. It hits all allys in a fight. It heals up to moderate wounds, gives a +2 to attack hits and +2 to damage. Does not work on Sana and drains her terribly after casting. Plus to damage and to hit lasts 5 rounds. (Side effect is due to the nature of the spell it will make those that it hits feel more courageous during the casting.) - Can cast once every three days.
Beacon: Flashlight - This song brings about a pillar of light that breaks through low light, darkness and obscured vision. (Such as mist, fog, smoke and rain). It has no special effect other than being able to be seen from up to a mile away no matter the level of light or density of obscurity. Cannot be seen through rock or stone but will follow a path until it reaches the sky if possible. The song itself will carry with the light and can be heard as far as the light can be seen. The light will continue as long as the song continues and fade once it stops. The end verse can continue to be repeated to last as long as the singer can sing. It can be cast once a day but if it is an extended version of the song it takes away from the next days ability. Each time it is extended, it takes another day to recharge it.
Masquerade: Burn With Me - During the course of the song Sana is able to completely change the look and voice of herself and up to one more party member. The illusion is true even if touched and lasts 24 hours, it can be dispersed by break illusion spells or if the person it is cast on speaks the words "The Masquerade Is Over" - Can be cast once every 12 hours
Winter Storm: Cold But I'm Still Here - This is currently Sanas only true attack spell. During casting the temperature of an area that spans out in a 60 foot radius around her will begin to cool down, the ground will frost over as well as other materials that normally would in such conditions. Using her hand movements she can direct up to five beams of ice from her palms during the song to strike opponents or other applications as she made need.(such as a wall of ice or to freeze a lake to be able to walk on) - she may contain her five beams to the end of the song and let it out as a single attack that will form a wall of ice three feet thick and ten feet high in a circle with a 30 foot diameter. Ice attacks will melt as normal for air temp. Wall will last until she stops singing as long as it isn't destroyed. (She may repeat the song until she cannot sing anymore to keep the wall up but may not do anything else but sing.) - can be cast once a week.
Additional Information:
Significant Other: Hugh Van Halder - Does not know where he is anymore
Sister: Ramara Rawn - presumed dead
Cousin: Ariana Rawn
Sana is scarred now with a line from her right ear to her jaw on her face, small puncture scars on her right shoulder from a hound bite and a burn scar from the right side of her neck at her jaw line, that front side of her chest, down her arm to the elbow and her back to the bottom of her shoulder blade.
Armor: An arm cuff that is enchanted with Barkskin.
Weapons: She carried one small dagger that is used for cutting up meat before cooking for the most part though is works as a throwing dagger if need be. Nothing special about it, the blade is 6 inches of plain steel while the hilt is carved oak. Her other and main weapon is a Recurve Bow that was hand carved for her; she uses cedar arrows that resist warping. She possesses a Silver Dagger found in the chest of a Liches Layer as well as a second quiver of silver arrows provided to her by the Elven Army of Corellan Larethian.
Possessions: Clothing, weapons, pack, dried fruits and meats, water skin, rope, fletching items, rags, needle, threads, horse, grooming items, tent, chain with her parents wedding bands on it that she wears around her neck.
Personality: Sana in the past has been known to be rather quiet and untrusting, hard to get close to. She preferred to be left alone and detests asking for help; a very stubborn woman who preferred to do things alone than in a group. Though since meeting Hugh she has softened some and come to accept things. Now a days she doesn’t mind the group setting so much but prefers to be alongside Hugh during most situations. She can be rather outspoken at times but has a good heart and tends to help people in need even without being asked. Handing over items that one may need without a word and just walking away. If she does get mad though she will lash out either verbally or physically and when a new comer approaching she will draw and stand ready to strike them down if provoked.
History: She comes from a wandering band of gypsy that she left long ago for she refused to become what they wanted her to be. Another dancer and entertainer for the group. She was a tom boy growing up who preferred to spend time with a bow and arrow than a person. Though she never sought the way of her people she is very defensive of them and knows their ways. Skilled in song, dance, showmanship. Nothing traumatic happened during her childhood or growing up but being the typical teenager, hated what her parents wanted for her and in the end left those she knew for a world she wanted to know.
After she reached maturity she decided to leave the home and family she knew and set out on her own. Over the years she has worked in various towns trading furs from animals she has killed on her journeys and worked mercenary from time to time as wars broke out, utilizing her skills as a marksman.
During a journey through the desert when she was grouped with adventurers she met an older and kind hearted man by the name of Hugh whom she found herself drawn to. She was captured by a Lich and taken off to be sacrificed, if it had not been for Hugh she would have been slaughtered on the granite sacrificial tomb she was tied to. Though she has never out right stated that she loves him, it is more than evident in the way she acts around him and carries herself now.
Sana traveled with Hugh for a long time. During an adventure she was snatched by a traveling fog that divided up her, as well as some others in the group she was adventuring with. When this happened, Hugh left the group but before Sana was taken. She is unaware of him walking away and has no idea why because of this. Since she was dropped off by the fog she had worked to get back with the adventuring party to find Hugh once again, thinking he is still with them.
Previous Rp: Sands Of Blood, Cinder Sickness |
3,385 | 76 | 21 | 204 | 1,057 | May I ask what happened here? I saw the signs of some sort of battle, but I'd like to know more if you can help with that. Eranah said as she walked in, struggling to keep herself from going from person to person. The archer was clearly in a bad place mentally, though from what exactly she had no idea. The pain of others less adept in concealing it crying out to her and drowning out most else. She stood firm however, there would be plenty of time for her to work with the others later. For now, getting a grasp of at least the basic situation was more pressing. | Syeira
Age: 26
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Class: Wizard
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Equipment: Syeira is a roving Gypsy with a Vardo wagon, a wooden walled wagon that is her home. Inside it are all the common implements one might expect including pots and pans. Attached to the top is a keg of water, several bags and small chests containing food and supplies.
Skills and Abilities: In addition to having access to several spells Syeira is a herbalist and crafter of potions.
Personality: Syeira has a scathing, dry personality. She has seen the worst of humanity. She's been chased out of towns at pitchfork point. She's been beaten and robbed and worse. As a result she has a rather low opinion of others. She usually keeps cynical nature hidden to customers who come to her seeking their fortunes read or to have a potion made effecting a sweet and trustworthy young woman.
While Neutral Evil, Syeira is not particularly murderous nor is she likely to blithely betray trusted comrades. Trust, after all, is a valuable commodity. She is, however, a coward and a shuckster. She has no qualms performing confidence jobs, rooking customers with dubious potions or otherwise making a quick bit of coin at someone's expense. Her personal favourite is a cure for common colds that works in just three to five days. It's amazing how often she sells those.
Backstory: Syeira was an orphan child, her father was a caravan merchant who getted her on the local strumpet. When her mother died only two years later, Syeira was left an orphan with no one to care for her. When the Gur came through and performed for the entertainment of the small settlement they refused to pay as was promised by the town villein and instead offered them the child as trade in lieu of payment.
The Gur were shocked, as slavery was something not seen in the Western Heartlands of Faerun, at least not outside of Waterdeep where Calishite caliphs and pashas often conducted business. Still, they took the child. For it was thought by their matriarch that it would greatly please their patron goddess Selune who was, by nature, a protector.
Thus Syeira group up with the Gur as one of them. She did stand out amongst them, with the Gur's dusky skin and dark hair, which was both a blessing and a curse for some of their number always saw her as an outsider and an outsider learning their secrets. She developed a number of thiefly skills for fleecing crowds when she was young but as she grew older she was often remarked for her insight which involved her learning to be a fortune teller. Occassionally, she would even glimpse strange images and was claimed to have "the sight".
Unfortunately, later in life as she reached her late teens, she incurred the lust of son of the group's "Big Man" and given his deluded notions of position, coupled with drink and the bawdy suggestions of his peers took to having his way with her in front of them. She, of course, responded by plunging a blade into his chest and nearly killed him... though not for lack of trying, having thrust into him thrice before being pulled from him kicking and screaming.
This event had dire consequences. It split the very clan apart in deeming the proper means to proceed and eventually it was determined that, for the good of the clan, she should depart for she would ever be a wedge, a schism in their group, forever setting them against one another. |
3,386 | 76 | 22 | 1,551 | 217 | Course, ain't so fair these days...ain't much of a haven, neither. As the Sergeant led the group into the city, Sheeva was being pretty catty for a bird. "SQUAWWWW! (No kidding, gramps. This place is a dump.)" She mentioned casually. Lammy sighed at the situation, and her comment. He scanned the solemn, desolate landscape, devoid of people or general upkeep.
"Wait a second, 'Mist-taken'?" The query came completely out of left field, blurted out by the dingy druid himself. "So this has happened before? We're not the first?" He kinda felt like he just adding to the list of questions that would no doubt stack up on the Sergeant. "What happened to the last ones?" He asked. Even if the last incursion happened decades ago, he figured whatever happened was still pretty significant, seeing as there were stories told about it. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,387 | 76 | 23 | 501 | 259 | War. The Sergeant said. "Finally ended round three years back, reckon all the men on both sides were dead enough that they couldn't fight anymore. Just one day they stopped throwing stones and walked away, back to where they come from." The Sergeant led them through the crumbling city - it seemed a ghost town, most of the buildings boarded shut and hardly a soul to be seen. "As for why we had the war, you'd best be askin' the Lord, and he's not one to take guests."
"As fer Mist-taken - har, it's like a pun - you'd best be asking Crissie Hopestone, she's...in charge around here, more or less." He pointed ahead at a sign on one of the few buildings still in good shape. "That's her place, the Scarlet Jester's. Was a lot more lively, once." | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,388 | 76 | 24 | 54 | 1,340 | Sana followed the group in silence, her arrow eventually being let loose from the string and it dropping back into its quiver. The bow in turn being slung along her back, letting it rest in its place once again. Her face was emotionless as it always had been and what ever thoughts people had of her were drawn from an over bearing arrogance that they thought they could read someone just by their looks. A fatal trait she had seen far to many adventurers acquire over the years.
"Okay, I guess I'll be the one to ask the important question," she quipped in finally. "How do we get the hell out of here?" she asked at the one informing people about the place they were stuck in. Granted she felt she probably wasn't going to get the answer she hoped for. Something along the lines of second star to the right and straight on until morning. | Name: Sana Rawn
Age: 31
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Race: Human
Class: Marksman/Gypsy(Bard)
Appearance/Clothing:
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 125 lbs
Hair color, texture, length, style: Dirty ash blonde with layers from ears to shoulders. Her hair is usually worn with shorter layers crimped and pulled back with a few loose strands around her face, the longer layers are curled under and left loose falling to her shoulders.
Eye look, shape & color: Milk Chocolate with amber specks, round eyes with a slight slant at the outer corners.
Skin Tone: Tanned with olive undertones.
Body Type: Toned body over all with very defined arm muscles.
Voice/Accent: Her voice has a tad deeper intonation than most women and is slightly raspy. Sana has a stunningly beautiful voice when she sings but it is something that she rarely does.
Clothing:
Warm Weather - She wears a very simple halter top made of tanned leather that tied around the back of her neck and is trimmed in a deep brown rawhide. She wears a matching shorts that is slit on each side of her thighs as to not to hinder her movements. Her boots are a soft suede material that come up to just below her knees and lace up the entire way, soft soles, no heels. She wears a sheer mantle that flows to the ground and is trimmed in the same material as her halter top, usually pulled over her arms to hide their definition.
Moderate to Cold Weather –
Outfit:
Cloak:
Gypsy Clothing -
Skills: Agility, acrobatics, gymnastics, ambidextrous, riding, fletching; excellent marksman with a bow and skilled dagger thrower. Knows some close combat fighting, using her bow in a staff like manner. When weaponless Sana will use her knowledge of acrobatics and gymnastics, combined with her agility, to attack and defend herself.
Natural Abilities: None - Human
Magic/Spells: Sana knows many bard songs but is unaware of which ones she can actually cast. Below is a list of songs she has been able to cast successfully so far.
Trust Me: Beauty From Pain - An inspire trust spell that is activated when she sings. Spell has a 75% chance of working on one target in the line of sight. Effect lasts 20 minutes - can cast once a day
Courageous Heal: Everything Burns - A triple effect spell activated when she sings. It hits all allys in a fight. It heals up to moderate wounds, gives a +2 to attack hits and +2 to damage. Does not work on Sana and drains her terribly after casting. Plus to damage and to hit lasts 5 rounds. (Side effect is due to the nature of the spell it will make those that it hits feel more courageous during the casting.) - Can cast once every three days.
Beacon: Flashlight - This song brings about a pillar of light that breaks through low light, darkness and obscured vision. (Such as mist, fog, smoke and rain). It has no special effect other than being able to be seen from up to a mile away no matter the level of light or density of obscurity. Cannot be seen through rock or stone but will follow a path until it reaches the sky if possible. The song itself will carry with the light and can be heard as far as the light can be seen. The light will continue as long as the song continues and fade once it stops. The end verse can continue to be repeated to last as long as the singer can sing. It can be cast once a day but if it is an extended version of the song it takes away from the next days ability. Each time it is extended, it takes another day to recharge it.
Masquerade: Burn With Me - During the course of the song Sana is able to completely change the look and voice of herself and up to one more party member. The illusion is true even if touched and lasts 24 hours, it can be dispersed by break illusion spells or if the person it is cast on speaks the words "The Masquerade Is Over" - Can be cast once every 12 hours
Winter Storm: Cold But I'm Still Here - This is currently Sanas only true attack spell. During casting the temperature of an area that spans out in a 60 foot radius around her will begin to cool down, the ground will frost over as well as other materials that normally would in such conditions. Using her hand movements she can direct up to five beams of ice from her palms during the song to strike opponents or other applications as she made need.(such as a wall of ice or to freeze a lake to be able to walk on) - she may contain her five beams to the end of the song and let it out as a single attack that will form a wall of ice three feet thick and ten feet high in a circle with a 30 foot diameter. Ice attacks will melt as normal for air temp. Wall will last until she stops singing as long as it isn't destroyed. (She may repeat the song until she cannot sing anymore to keep the wall up but may not do anything else but sing.) - can be cast once a week.
Additional Information:
Significant Other: Hugh Van Halder - Does not know where he is anymore
Sister: Ramara Rawn - presumed dead
Cousin: Ariana Rawn
Sana is scarred now with a line from her right ear to her jaw on her face, small puncture scars on her right shoulder from a hound bite and a burn scar from the right side of her neck at her jaw line, that front side of her chest, down her arm to the elbow and her back to the bottom of her shoulder blade.
Armor: An arm cuff that is enchanted with Barkskin.
Weapons: She carried one small dagger that is used for cutting up meat before cooking for the most part though is works as a throwing dagger if need be. Nothing special about it, the blade is 6 inches of plain steel while the hilt is carved oak. Her other and main weapon is a Recurve Bow that was hand carved for her; she uses cedar arrows that resist warping. She possesses a Silver Dagger found in the chest of a Liches Layer as well as a second quiver of silver arrows provided to her by the Elven Army of Corellan Larethian.
Possessions: Clothing, weapons, pack, dried fruits and meats, water skin, rope, fletching items, rags, needle, threads, horse, grooming items, tent, chain with her parents wedding bands on it that she wears around her neck.
Personality: Sana in the past has been known to be rather quiet and untrusting, hard to get close to. She preferred to be left alone and detests asking for help; a very stubborn woman who preferred to do things alone than in a group. Though since meeting Hugh she has softened some and come to accept things. Now a days she doesn’t mind the group setting so much but prefers to be alongside Hugh during most situations. She can be rather outspoken at times but has a good heart and tends to help people in need even without being asked. Handing over items that one may need without a word and just walking away. If she does get mad though she will lash out either verbally or physically and when a new comer approaching she will draw and stand ready to strike them down if provoked.
History: She comes from a wandering band of gypsy that she left long ago for she refused to become what they wanted her to be. Another dancer and entertainer for the group. She was a tom boy growing up who preferred to spend time with a bow and arrow than a person. Though she never sought the way of her people she is very defensive of them and knows their ways. Skilled in song, dance, showmanship. Nothing traumatic happened during her childhood or growing up but being the typical teenager, hated what her parents wanted for her and in the end left those she knew for a world she wanted to know.
After she reached maturity she decided to leave the home and family she knew and set out on her own. Over the years she has worked in various towns trading furs from animals she has killed on her journeys and worked mercenary from time to time as wars broke out, utilizing her skills as a marksman.
During a journey through the desert when she was grouped with adventurers she met an older and kind hearted man by the name of Hugh whom she found herself drawn to. She was captured by a Lich and taken off to be sacrificed, if it had not been for Hugh she would have been slaughtered on the granite sacrificial tomb she was tied to. Though she has never out right stated that she loves him, it is more than evident in the way she acts around him and carries herself now.
Sana traveled with Hugh for a long time. During an adventure she was snatched by a traveling fog that divided up her, as well as some others in the group she was adventuring with. When this happened, Hugh left the group but before Sana was taken. She is unaware of him walking away and has no idea why because of this. Since she was dropped off by the fog she had worked to get back with the adventuring party to find Hugh once again, thinking he is still with them.
Previous Rp: Sands Of Blood, Cinder Sickness |
3,389 | 76 | 25 | 1,551 | 217 | I don't think he'd know the answer to that... Lammy trailed off unsurely, wondering if the sour archer was really paying attention. He clearly made mention of someone who could provide better insight to the body snatching weather anomaly. "Okay...Crissie Hopestone..." The druid meandered verbally, staring down the establishment this experienced "Mist-taken" owned. "Well, guess she's our only lead so far. Might as well check this place out, see what info she's got." He gave the Sergeant a thankful shoulder pat. "Thanks for all your help, elder." The druid replied with gratefulness. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,390 | 76 | 26 | 501 | 259 | 'fraid the boy's right, lass. I ain't even rightly sure where you are, much less how to get you back there.
The inside of the Scarlet Jester was a depressing sight - it was in theory a tavern, immaculately kept, not a cobweb or speck of dust to be seen. Small, round tables dotted the floor, with chairs settled atop them. Seated at one of them was a woman, with heavily lined pale skin and brown hair that was thick with gray. She looked up at the door as they entered, her eyes despondent and tired. Getting a look at them, she seemed to brighten a bit.
"Welcome to the Scarlet Jester." She got to her feet with a muttered curse as her knees and back audibly popped. "It isn't often we get travelers around here, how can I help you?"
Looking around the Jester, it looked to have been a happening place once - the bar was large and still fairly well stocked, and the walls were dotted with the heads of great beasts and monsters. Behind the bar, over where the tender would stand, was an ornate sword, lightly curved with flowing letters inscribed on the blade. The hilt was bound in blue fabric, and a tassel of the same color hung from the pommel.
"And you'd be travelers who'd make a stir even if we got a hundred a day." She said as she looked them over. | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,391 | 76 | 27 | 501 | 259 | And you must be Miss Hopestone. We were hoping you might be able to tell us about why or how exactly we ended up here. I wouldn't assume you know how to get us back home, but any information would be helpful. Eranah asked as she watched the woman, a look of minor concern crossing her features as the woman cursed, hearing the joints pop. She clearly must have been in some level of pain. She couldn't help herself. Reaching out and laying a hand on the woman's shoulder. In the back of her mind she figured there was not time like the present to see if her powers still worked, but it was only a very small thought.
Focusing a bit she quickly worked to ease the pain and hopefully even help her ease of movement in a longer term. It wouldn't be permanent, there was nothing to stop old age from taking its course in the end. However, if she could even give the woman an hour or two of being able to move around somewhat easier it would be worth it. As soon as she was done the hand left the woman's shoulder as her expression remained concerned, but less so than before. | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,392 | 76 | 28 | 1,551 | 217 | Lammy let himself in, helping himself to one of the seats as the hostess informed the crew on the situation. Sounded like she didn't know of a way to get out of this dimension either. Not without risking a life, at least. Naturally, this upset the druid, making him sigh as he began to slump into his chair. His expression stayed neutral, but the somber thoughts were there. "Now I actually regret not going back home with Amaya last week." He thought. Alongside that, there only seemed to be added stakes to the already bleak situation. "Can't go out after dark. Don't trust the people that could get us home." Just to get a good gauge on time, Lammy meandered over to the door, just to take a look outside. "Yup. S'grey and winter-y out. Still kinda light out, though." He mumbled. It looked like evening would be upon the land before they knew it. He gave thought to searching for the Vistani right now, while they had the chance. The thought of never returning to his family made him really anxious.
As he returned to the group, the hostess Hopestone offered Eranah a drink. Made the druid realize he hadn't had a drink since he shared one with his father on his 21st birthday. Gave him brief thought towards the passage of time. "Geez, has it really been that long already?" He sat back down. "Can I get a drink too? Something to get my mind off of all this. Something not too magic-y either." Lammy asked with another tired sigh. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,393 | 76 | 29 | 501 | 259 | I'd offer you some Aldarian white if I could. She poured each of them a small glass of amber colored liquid.
Lily sniffed it, then took a sip, almost immediately rocking back on her heels, her eyes watering. It had a taste like lamp oil - she'd tasted it once, long story - that someone had mixed some cinnamon into, and then somehow fermented. It was an experience she wasn't likely to forget any time soon. "What the hell -is- that?" She said, her voice hoarse.
"I have no idea what they call it. I like to call it a Vagrant Resurrection." Hopestone said with a grin. "A mouthful of it can just about raise a man from the dead."
"I can believe that." Lily rasped out, setting the glass back down on the bar. "Nine Hells." | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,394 | 76 | 30 | 1,551 | 217 | Lammy gave his thanks as a full glass of libation slid towards him. Ready to down it all in one miserable gulp, he paused, looking on as Lily took her sip first. He cracked a bit of a grin as she voiced her opinion on just how strong the stuff was. It was her voice that made him realize that the predicament he was in could've been a lot worse. He could've been stuck here without any help and with no familiar faces. Instead, he was sharing drinks with some of his greatest friends and his strongest companion. What optimism that had withered away in his moment of despair, had began to restore itself just a bit.
He looked into the amber liquid, sloshing it around in its little glass. "Vagrant Resurrection, eh?" He stared it down another second, then threw his head back and forced it down. It was a hopeful gulp, rather than a miserable one. "I...immediately regret doing that!" He struggled to reply as he coughed. Felt as if his body was on fire. And as he lifted his head towards the ceiling, and burped up a small ball of flame, the expression seemed to be quite literal. "Huh. That...usually doesn't happen." Usually when he was breathing fire, it was on purpose...and usually coming out of his hands. Might've been a side effect gained from the practice he undertook with his sister.
He slid the glass back to their hostess. "Please ma'am, might I have another? Preferably with a chaser?" He asked. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,395 | 76 | 31 | 501 | 259 | Eranah hadn't wanted to be rude when she received the shot.
"Thank you, and it is nothing. I am a cleric after all." With that she threw the shot back...and immediately it threatened to come right back up. Holding it down with a series of coughs such that she actually hunched forward she tried to keep the burning in her throat and gut down. She couldn't even speak for a good while as it merely burned and her body wanted nothing more than to get rid of every trace of it.
"Now I know suffering." She said quietly once she caught her breath, straightening up again with her eyes growing wider as Lammy asked for a second shot. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she knew that it would be rude to not follow his example.
"One for myself as well please." | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,396 | 76 | 32 | 1,551 | 217 | Contained in a much taller cup than the shot glass containing liquid flame, Lammy decided to take up the beer first before tackling that liquor again. A bit more refreshing than the devilwater, he didn't hesitate to take a few generous gulps of the stuff. He did slow however, as he watched Lily show a bit of fear. It was clear he wasn't as connected to the gods as she was (he was a casual worshipper, at best), but he could imagine how such news could impact an individual who relied on such an otherworldly entity as their main source of power. As Crissie offered the group lodging at the Jester, and Lily spoke up, he offered comfort the best way he currently could. "You gonna be okay?" He was quiet as he asked, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,397 | 76 | 33 | 501 | 259 | If Lammy were anyone else - with the possible exception of Eranah - her response would have been to flash a bright smile and a reassuring nod. She was a Paladin, it was her duty to be resolute and unshaken no matter how bad things got. To be brave even when no one else was. Paladins were as much about inspiring people to be better as they were about directly fighting the darkness that threatened the world.
But she had been to Hell and back with Lammy, very nearly literally. She lowered her voice, not wanting to loudly declare her fear to the world in general. "I don't know, Lammy." She said. "Torm has been the foundation on which I built my life. When all's quiet I could feel his hand upon me, guiding me to the right path." She tugged off her gauntlet, then rested her hand on his, wanting to feel the touch directly rather than through the shell of steel around her. "At least..." She trailed off, her cheeks blushing red, then continued a moment later. "I'm glad you're here. I'd hate to face this alone." | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
3,398 | 76 | 34 | 1,551 | 217 | From there it was clear she needed a little more reassurance. She was falling into the same despair pit Lammy was slowly crawling out of. "Well," He moved in closer, wrapping an arm around her. "You can still feel my hand, right?" His free hand slid to her bare one, his voice kept as low as hers. "Maybe we could guide each other in the mean time?" That sounded like a bit of a flirt, so the druid went in for the save before his face got hot. "You and me and Eranah and that mopey archer, probably. We'll all help find a way out of here." He added. "We might not see our families or hear our gods for awhile. In the meantime, we could get drunk and enjoy each other's company. Catch up now, attend to business come morning." The thought ran through his mind a second time. He was glad he was going through this trial with friends. | Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.
Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.
Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.
At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.
Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.
Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.
It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.
...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.
That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more. |
3,399 | 76 | 35 | 501 | 259 | It was at that point the full reality of the situation hit her. Without so much as a word Eranah stood up and went to stand outside. Moving to the side of the building she sat against the side of the building. Inside she was downright petrified and sobbing but outwordly she only looked up to the sky. She knew she would be ok eventually, but never before had she been separated from both home and the strength knowing she would inevitably return provide. She may die, but always she returned to the astral sea, reborn to serve Ilmater again as many times as was needed. Now, in a place removed from the gods themselves, she had no way to be sure. The ending of all that she was was a possibility. It was the worst possible thing she could imagine. | - Name: Lily Beckett
- Age: 22
- Race: Human
- Class: Paladin
- Abilities: As a knight Lily is physically strong, an excellent rider, and a superb swordsman, with ancillary training with polearms and bows. As a Paladin Lily is capable of channeling holy energy through her body to heal the living or harm the undead, focus her spiritual might through her holy symbol to repel evil forces, and focus the energies of righteousness through her sword to smite evil. The holy power coursing through her body grants her protection from many mystical attacks on her body and mind, and renders her immune to all known diseases and curses. Lily has been granted a limited ability to focus the power of Torm as spells, enabling her to perform blessings or ward an individual or small area against evil.
As an agent of Gods anathema to the Demiplane of Dread - even if they don't even know it exists - Lily carries a portion of their light with her. She is actively - albeit unknowingly - hateful to the plane itself. This is not a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Lily.
While she technically has the ability to sense Evil, since her arrival in the Demiplane of Dread the ability has been made useless - while she is still capable of sensing Evil the sheer omnipresence of it within the plane makes attempting to sense Evil a bit like trying to detect light by staring directly at the Sun. You'll find it, sure, but you'll also burn out your retinas. Attempting to sense evil is both agonizing and pointless for her.
- Alignment: Lawful Good
- Appearance:
Lily stands at roughly 5'10, and has a lean, athletic build that is corded with muscle. Her hair is black and worn long, usually simply gathered together under her helm in battle. Her eyes are gray, and while she is well-calloused she has no scars, suggesting easy access to healing magic. About her shoulders she wears a hooded, travel-stained cloak of deep, dark red.
- Personality: Lily is a Paladin, although not with all that implies. She lives her life by a simple code, dedicated to the Triad, the gods Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm - although Torm is her patron, and has her deepest devotion. The code she abides by is a simple one:
A Paladin is a speaker and seeker of Truth. A Paladin does not prejudge, but instead keeps an open mind. A Paladin never shirks from speaking the truth under any circumstance.
A Paladin is the arbiter of Justice. A Paladin will never allow the guilty to escape their Just punishment, nor the innocent to be trampled by injustice.
A Paladin is Sacrificing. The Paladin will give up everything they have, even their lives in the defense of the innocent.
A Paladin is Courageous, and does not shirk from battle with darkness but instead seeks it out and ends it.
A Paladin is Compassionate, and is kind to those around them, whether they appreciate it or not.
A Paladin is Merciful, and takes life only when there is no other choice.
A Paladin is Faithful, to their Masters and to their peers. A Paladin can always be called upon, and will never abandon those in need.
A Paladin is Humble, and does not seek personal glory or the adulation of others.
Outside of the tenets of this code, Lily is a simple person - not stupid, she is quite learned and intelligent, but she is not subtle or cunning. She has a habit of believing the best of people who too often don't deserve it. She approaches every aspect of her life the way she approaches her labors as a Paladin - directly and relentlessly. She is, however, smart and wise enough to grasp that not everyone who is good at heart should be forced to abide by her way of life, say, by having her reject the promised reward for a task simply because she has no use for treasure.
- Inventory: Lily's most important possession is her sword Faith's Fire, a two-handed longsword that at will burns with blue-white flames that are antithetical to the forces of Evil. With it she wields a suit of well-forged plate armor, similarly unadorned but nevertheless well cared for, if dented, scratched, and generally battered. The armor does bear a minor enchantment in that it is self-fastening, enabling Lily to quickly don and remove it in moments without assistance, rather than the minutes she would need even with a squire. In battle she adds a visored barbute. The gauntlets are special as well - each has been anointed by a Priest of Torm, and through them Lily can focus her Paladin capabilities. She also carries a similarly enchanted but much smaller and more maneuverable holy symbol on a silver chain around her neck, a simple circle of metal with a gauntlet etched upon it.
Over her armor she has a simple, unadorned red cloak, unmagical but warm and protective from rain.
Aside from her battle gear, she carries a light traveling pack holding rations, water, a small vial of blessed water, Tormite Holy Scripture, flints and tinder, fifty feet of rope, a grappling hook, and a utility knife.
- History: Lily doesn't really know where she comes from, beyond probable Illuskan ancestry judging by her coloration. Twenty years ago she was found on the doorstep of the Temple of the Triad in Waterdeep, a crying infant in a basket. In a city like Waterdeep this wasn't a terribly uncommon incident, although people usually had the courtesy to hand the baby to a Priest. Being a temple dedicated to three of the most noble and heroic Gods they weren't complete dicks, and so took the child in, fostering her with a humble Tormite Priest by the name of Gabriel, who raised her as his own.
Although little more than an apprentice priest, Gabriel was treated with great respect, and as Lily grew she soon discovered why. Gabriel was better known as Sir Gabriel Beckett, Knight and Paladin of the Tormtar, a legendary hero who had guarded the Sword Coast for decades. Upon learning this young Lily was inspired, and hounded the old knight to teach her the ways of the Paladin. Despite his reticence to see the girl he had come to call daughter take up the heavy burden of the Paladin he did not deny her, and her training began.
To Lily's surprise the training involved much less sparring and much more deep contemplation and study. Gabriel and her would spend many hours, deep into the night discussing the nature of evil, and how to fight it. Gabriel taught her to use her sword as a last resort, to battle evil with her mind and heart, to offer peace before battle and mercy in victory, even to the wicked who seemed truly vile. "We are Paladins, not judges. Our place is not to lay judgment, but to prevent further evil. "
At seventeen she began to shift from pure training to minor missions for the Temple, culminating in a series of quests she would begin at twenty years of age - plunging into a deep catacomb with an army to disrupt an undead horde forming, a year-long crusade against Devilish powers rising in the High Moor - where she met and befriended the Druid Lammy LaSalle and the priestess Eranah. After their parting she traveled alone for many months, battling against evil in the world, rooting out murderers and necromancers among the small villages.
Her fervor drew notice of darkness, and the Mists reached for her. |
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