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44,702 | 1,216 | 87 | 1,457 | 3,004 | Rowan nodded his head for yes at Melody's question.
"Hot food sounds good." Rowan rummaged through his pack till he pulled out a trusty drying pan frying pan and spun it a couple of times in his hand.
"Requests?" | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,703 | 1,216 | 88 | 377 | 25,995 | Niesha shook her head, "I'll eat just about anything" she said, briefly wondering why a tent was being set up. They still had time to get to the town, didn't they? But she didn't say anything. Maybe they didn't, how was she to know?
She watched the others with their Pokemon, and wondered if she was doing something wrong. She didn't want to simply use her Pokemon because they were there, but there seemed to be a willingness to help. Was she a bad trainer?
She shifted uncomfortably, looking to Solias, who was approaching Doof Doof curiously | Name: Niesha
Age:16
Gender: female
Description: I'll find something soon
Pokemon:
1. chimchar, Male, Named Solias
2. Pichu egg |
44,704 | 1,216 | 89 | 452 | 3,241 | I've always enjoyed breakfast at any time of day, myself. If not, then I'm not particular. Cliff fans the fire carefully when the wind dies, and shields it when the wind kicks up. Frouline return and lays her last bundle on the pile. Cliff looks at her and considers something. He separates a portion of the fuel and looks at Frouline. "Frouline, could you produce a mist for me?" The pokemon looks uncertain for a moment before giving it a shot. At first it's just a small stream of water, but with a little bit of effort, the stream slowly picks up pressure and changes shape. "Hmm... Try adding breath instead of pressure." Frouline stops and looks at him, thinking for a second about what she's doing and then trying it out. The stream sputters and struggles, with mild success but nothing that could really be called a mist. "Almost..." After a little bit, Frouline seems a little tuckered from the extra effort, and Cliff smiles. "That's alright. You can rest."
Cliff turns back to the fire, looking up at Rowan. "Just hurry up, before we need more wood." | Name: Cliff
Age: 17
Description: Cliff is a rather plain young man, with the makings of a goatee growing in on his chin. He wears sunglasses with small, circular red lenses and a collared shirt. He wears cargo pants or shorts. In cold weather, he wears flannel-lined jeans. He stands at 5'8".
Pokemon:
Oshawott, Female, named Frouline |
44,705 | 1,216 | 90 | 2,737 | 141 | Ok we'll cook up an assortment of things and then we can use the tent to keep the sun off our heads while we eat, or we can call it a day here, up to you guys melody said in her usual bright chirpy voice | Name - Melody Valanche
Age - 16
Bio - A cheerful, carefree girl who loves nothing more than hanging out with her dear Piplup 'EMP'. She stands at 5"1' with slightly tan skin and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She has shoulder length black hair with bright green eyes with a brown ring around the pupil, her voice is high and almost musical. She wears a large white hoodie with pale, apple green patches on the shoulders and a pair of knee length white shorts, a pale green satchel hangs at her hip. Emp can normally be seen riding in said satchel.
Family -
She lives with her mother, Laura, who is a housewife and retired psychic gym leader who once tutored Sabrina, she has a male and female pair of Alakazams and a Chimecho left from her training days, and her father, Julius, who is a scientist specialising in the study of pokeballs, he isn't as big a fan of pokemon as his wife and daughter however he is always seen with his trusty Azumarill by his side, he rescued her as an Azurill when she was chased by a flock of Staraptors and they've been inseparable ever since, he is also the one that gave Melody her Abra so that she could follow in her mothers footsteps.
Pokemon -
-"Emp" the Piplup, can be somewhat mischievous, fiercely protective of Melody and other Pokemon
-Pound
-Peck
-Bubble
-
-"Rei" the Abra, quiet and sleeps a lot
-Teleport
-Confusion
-Miracle Eye
-
-
-
-
- |
44,706 | 1,216 | 91 | 1,457 | 3,004 | Rowan nodded as he placed the dryingfrying pan just above the fire and went back to his pack while waiting for it to heat up.
He came back with some sausages and bacon and threw them into the now hot pan. He sat back and kept a close eye on them while they cooked, not really paying attention to much else. | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,707 | 1,216 | 92 | 377 | 25,995 | Niesha set her food out, figuring they could eat it if they wanted, and rose, gently placing the egg back in her pack, staring at it wistfully, wondering when it would hatch. She looked about to see if there was anything she could do to help, feeling useless.
"Is there anything I can do?" She asked | Name: Niesha
Age:16
Gender: female
Description: I'll find something soon
Pokemon:
1. chimchar, Male, Named Solias
2. Pichu egg |
44,708 | 1,216 | 93 | 2,737 | 141 | Melody turned to Niesha "I think we've got it under control, there wasnt really much to do" She giggled "But we could always sit and talk, you know, get to know each other better while we wait for the food to be finished." She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and readjusted her hat before sitting down beside Niesha | Name - Melody Valanche
Age - 16
Bio - A cheerful, carefree girl who loves nothing more than hanging out with her dear Piplup 'EMP'. She stands at 5"1' with slightly tan skin and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She has shoulder length black hair with bright green eyes with a brown ring around the pupil, her voice is high and almost musical. She wears a large white hoodie with pale, apple green patches on the shoulders and a pair of knee length white shorts, a pale green satchel hangs at her hip. Emp can normally be seen riding in said satchel.
Family -
She lives with her mother, Laura, who is a housewife and retired psychic gym leader who once tutored Sabrina, she has a male and female pair of Alakazams and a Chimecho left from her training days, and her father, Julius, who is a scientist specialising in the study of pokeballs, he isn't as big a fan of pokemon as his wife and daughter however he is always seen with his trusty Azumarill by his side, he rescued her as an Azurill when she was chased by a flock of Staraptors and they've been inseparable ever since, he is also the one that gave Melody her Abra so that she could follow in her mothers footsteps.
Pokemon -
-"Emp" the Piplup, can be somewhat mischievous, fiercely protective of Melody and other Pokemon
-Pound
-Peck
-Bubble
-
-"Rei" the Abra, quiet and sleeps a lot
-Teleport
-Confusion
-Miracle Eye
-
-
-
-
- |
44,709 | 1,216 | 94 | 1,457 | 3,004 | Rowan simply poked at the bacon and sausages in deep thought as he waited for them to be cooked. He flipped the bacon over and turning the sausages over.
He sighed and glanced over at the others when he heard the word 'talk'. Get to know each other better huh? Suppose if they were going to be travelling together they should know a bit more about each other.
He now waited to see who would go first while keeping an eye on the food so it wouldn't burn. | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,710 | 1,216 | 95 | 377 | 25,995 | Niesha have a shrug, watching the Pokemon. "There's not really much to know. I just moved here with my parents, got Solias and been chilling for a week or so, waiting to start out" she said softly, and then because she was hungry, she grabbed one of her sandwiches, and began to eat, "I'm kinda an open book. If I get excited about something's, it's a good bet I like it" she said with another shrug, taking a sip of water | Name: Niesha
Age:16
Gender: female
Description: I'll find something soon
Pokemon:
1. chimchar, Male, Named Solias
2. Pichu egg |
44,711 | 1,216 | 96 | 452 | 3,241 | Cliff carefully tends the fire, keeping the heat moderate for Rown's cooking. "Tell me if you want more heat."
He looks up at the chatting girls, smiling softly to himself. Well, at least these two were off to a friendly start. "I'm rather mellow myself, I suppose. I get excited sometimes, though." | Name: Cliff
Age: 17
Description: Cliff is a rather plain young man, with the makings of a goatee growing in on his chin. He wears sunglasses with small, circular red lenses and a collared shirt. He wears cargo pants or shorts. In cold weather, he wears flannel-lined jeans. He stands at 5'8".
Pokemon:
Oshawott, Female, named Frouline |
44,712 | 1,216 | 97 | 2,737 | 141 | Melody smiled and nodded as she listened to Cliff and Niesha, before starting her own story. "My family used to travel a lot when I was little, because mom was always training her psychic type pokemon for the gym and dad was always trying to test out new pokeballs, we settled down in Twinleaf Town and I've been best friends with Rowan since then. We just got our Pokemon a few days ago and now we're gonna try to beat the Sinnoh League" she beamed and patted Emps head. | Name - Melody Valanche
Age - 16
Bio - A cheerful, carefree girl who loves nothing more than hanging out with her dear Piplup 'EMP'. She stands at 5"1' with slightly tan skin and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She has shoulder length black hair with bright green eyes with a brown ring around the pupil, her voice is high and almost musical. She wears a large white hoodie with pale, apple green patches on the shoulders and a pair of knee length white shorts, a pale green satchel hangs at her hip. Emp can normally be seen riding in said satchel.
Family -
She lives with her mother, Laura, who is a housewife and retired psychic gym leader who once tutored Sabrina, she has a male and female pair of Alakazams and a Chimecho left from her training days, and her father, Julius, who is a scientist specialising in the study of pokeballs, he isn't as big a fan of pokemon as his wife and daughter however he is always seen with his trusty Azumarill by his side, he rescued her as an Azurill when she was chased by a flock of Staraptors and they've been inseparable ever since, he is also the one that gave Melody her Abra so that she could follow in her mothers footsteps.
Pokemon -
-"Emp" the Piplup, can be somewhat mischievous, fiercely protective of Melody and other Pokemon
-Pound
-Peck
-Bubble
-
-"Rei" the Abra, quiet and sleeps a lot
-Teleport
-Confusion
-Miracle Eye
-
-
-
-
- |
44,713 | 1,216 | 98 | 1,457 | 3,004 | Rowan sat there silently as he listened to their stories. He didn't want to talk about himself, but he probably didn't have much of a choice.
"I pretty much raised myself, my parents are pretty busy. Meet Melody a few years back and been best friends since, got Twig a couple of days ago and plan on defeating the sinnoh league." Rowan said briefly as he didn't look up from the pan. The food was almost done. | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,714 | 1,216 | 99 | 377 | 25,995 | I don't particularly care about the league, to be honest Niesha said "I'll participate, but I kinda want to focus on looking after Pokemon. On helping them be the best they can. Sort of like a breeder, a tender, but different. Each Pokemon had their own nature, no two Pokemon are alike. They have their own likes and dislikes, they are super smart, and...well they are a lot like humans. Just cause they look alike doesn't make them the same. Solias hear is quite serious, but is also a little laid back.
Your frouline seems quite jolly, energetic. Emp seems helpful, eager to please. Twig seems a little bit more complicated. Kinda a mixture of them all, but mostly I think he is just wise. I guess we shall see" Niesha mused, "but I got side tracked. I want to be able to see a Pokemon, to know a Pokemon and to work with Pokemon." | Name: Niesha
Age:16
Gender: female
Description: I'll find something soon
Pokemon:
1. chimchar, Male, Named Solias
2. Pichu egg |
44,715 | 1,216 | 100 | 452 | 3,241 | I don't feel that strongly about the league, either, but I think it could be fun to give it a try. Cliff glances in at the food, seeing it almost done. "I'm not sure what I want to do. I love having Frouline around, and I like working with her, but I don't know where I want to go with her." He places his hand on Frouline's head and rubs behind her ears and such. He looked up at Niesha, somewhat impressed. "You have a sharp eye for Pokemon. So you want to look after them... like a daycare, or... uh... some people keep Pokemon as pets, right? An obedience school? Some trainers have trouble getting some of their pokemon to listen." | Name: Cliff
Age: 17
Description: Cliff is a rather plain young man, with the makings of a goatee growing in on his chin. He wears sunglasses with small, circular red lenses and a collared shirt. He wears cargo pants or shorts. In cold weather, he wears flannel-lined jeans. He stands at 5'8".
Pokemon:
Oshawott, Female, named Frouline |
44,716 | 1,216 | 101 | 2,737 | 141 | Melodys eyes gleamed as she listened to the others "Wow thats so cool, I never thought of it that way" She continued petting Emp and let Rei out if his pokeball to sit and enjoy some food with them. | Name - Melody Valanche
Age - 16
Bio - A cheerful, carefree girl who loves nothing more than hanging out with her dear Piplup 'EMP'. She stands at 5"1' with slightly tan skin and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She has shoulder length black hair with bright green eyes with a brown ring around the pupil, her voice is high and almost musical. She wears a large white hoodie with pale, apple green patches on the shoulders and a pair of knee length white shorts, a pale green satchel hangs at her hip. Emp can normally be seen riding in said satchel.
Family -
She lives with her mother, Laura, who is a housewife and retired psychic gym leader who once tutored Sabrina, she has a male and female pair of Alakazams and a Chimecho left from her training days, and her father, Julius, who is a scientist specialising in the study of pokeballs, he isn't as big a fan of pokemon as his wife and daughter however he is always seen with his trusty Azumarill by his side, he rescued her as an Azurill when she was chased by a flock of Staraptors and they've been inseparable ever since, he is also the one that gave Melody her Abra so that she could follow in her mothers footsteps.
Pokemon -
-"Emp" the Piplup, can be somewhat mischievous, fiercely protective of Melody and other Pokemon
-Pound
-Peck
-Bubble
-
-"Rei" the Abra, quiet and sleeps a lot
-Teleport
-Confusion
-Miracle Eye
-
-
-
-
- |
44,717 | 1,216 | 102 | 1,457 | 3,004 | Rowan continued sitting silently as he had stopped listening to everyone at this stage. He was caught up in his own thoughts, so caught up that he didn't notice the food was starting to burn till he smelled some smoke.
Looking down as he snapped out of his daze he casually removed the frying pan from the fire and offered some slightly crispy bacon and sausages to the others. | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,718 | 1,216 | 103 | 377 | 25,995 | No, I want to be able to tell people how to look after their pokemon. to help injuried pokemon, and to basically...care for them Niesha said, pleased to be told she had a sharp eye. It meant she was doing a good job so far.
She looked over as Rowan offered the hot food he had, and she shrugged, taking some. Why not? Food was food. | Name: Niesha
Age:16
Gender: female
Description: I'll find something soon
Pokemon:
1. chimchar, Male, Named Solias
2. Pichu egg |
44,719 | 1,216 | 104 | 2,737 | 141 | Melody gingerly picked some food from the hot frying pan as well, nibbling on it and sharing small pieces with her pokemon | Name - Melody Valanche
Age - 16
Bio - A cheerful, carefree girl who loves nothing more than hanging out with her dear Piplup 'EMP'. She stands at 5"1' with slightly tan skin and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She has shoulder length black hair with bright green eyes with a brown ring around the pupil, her voice is high and almost musical. She wears a large white hoodie with pale, apple green patches on the shoulders and a pair of knee length white shorts, a pale green satchel hangs at her hip. Emp can normally be seen riding in said satchel.
Family -
She lives with her mother, Laura, who is a housewife and retired psychic gym leader who once tutored Sabrina, she has a male and female pair of Alakazams and a Chimecho left from her training days, and her father, Julius, who is a scientist specialising in the study of pokeballs, he isn't as big a fan of pokemon as his wife and daughter however he is always seen with his trusty Azumarill by his side, he rescued her as an Azurill when she was chased by a flock of Staraptors and they've been inseparable ever since, he is also the one that gave Melody her Abra so that she could follow in her mothers footsteps.
Pokemon -
-"Emp" the Piplup, can be somewhat mischievous, fiercely protective of Melody and other Pokemon
-Pound
-Peck
-Bubble
-
-"Rei" the Abra, quiet and sleeps a lot
-Teleport
-Confusion
-Miracle Eye
-
-
-
-
- |
44,720 | 1,216 | 105 | 1,457 | 3,004 | Now that Melody and Niesha had taken some food, Rowan now turned to Cliff and offered him some. He also decided to take some bacon; AND EAT IT! | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,721 | 1,216 | 106 | 452 | 3,241 | How compassionate of you. Cliff smiles softly at Niesha, accepting the offered bacon and munching on it happily. "That's a fine goal. I'm sure I'll figure out what I want to do. What about you two? I mean, yeah, you want to take on the league, but does that mean your goals are to become pokemon masters?" | Name: Cliff
Age: 17
Description: Cliff is a rather plain young man, with the makings of a goatee growing in on his chin. He wears sunglasses with small, circular red lenses and a collared shirt. He wears cargo pants or shorts. In cold weather, he wears flannel-lined jeans. He stands at 5'8".
Pokemon:
Oshawott, Female, named Frouline |
44,722 | 1,216 | 107 | 377 | 25,995 | Niesha fell silent to wait for the others to reply, happily Munching on her food, she glanced about them, before looking at the Pokemon, content. One of Nieshas dreams was to own a good amount of land and have lots of Pokemon. She'd get it one day. Looking to the others she waited for them to speak | Name: Niesha
Age:16
Gender: female
Description: I'll find something soon
Pokemon:
1. chimchar, Male, Named Solias
2. Pichu egg |
44,723 | 1,216 | 108 | 2,737 | 141 | "Pretty much" Melody chirped, "I want to keep training and I want Emp to become the strongest pokemon there is and then we'll travel the world together." She smiled. | Name - Melody Valanche
Age - 16
Bio - A cheerful, carefree girl who loves nothing more than hanging out with her dear Piplup 'EMP'. She stands at 5"1' with slightly tan skin and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She has shoulder length black hair with bright green eyes with a brown ring around the pupil, her voice is high and almost musical. She wears a large white hoodie with pale, apple green patches on the shoulders and a pair of knee length white shorts, a pale green satchel hangs at her hip. Emp can normally be seen riding in said satchel.
Family -
She lives with her mother, Laura, who is a housewife and retired psychic gym leader who once tutored Sabrina, she has a male and female pair of Alakazams and a Chimecho left from her training days, and her father, Julius, who is a scientist specialising in the study of pokeballs, he isn't as big a fan of pokemon as his wife and daughter however he is always seen with his trusty Azumarill by his side, he rescued her as an Azurill when she was chased by a flock of Staraptors and they've been inseparable ever since, he is also the one that gave Melody her Abra so that she could follow in her mothers footsteps.
Pokemon -
-"Emp" the Piplup, can be somewhat mischievous, fiercely protective of Melody and other Pokemon
-Pound
-Peck
-Bubble
-
-"Rei" the Abra, quiet and sleeps a lot
-Teleport
-Confusion
-Miracle Eye
-
-
-
-
- |
44,724 | 1,216 | 109 | 1,457 | 3,004 | (Did no-one get the reference? :( )
Rowan sat there chewing contently on the bacon. He was unsure what to do now, but he did notice that the sun had begun to set.
Well. That was quick, last Rowan had checked it was still afternoon. Suddenly it was almost night! | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,725 | 1,216 | 110 | 377 | 25,995 | Niesha looked up at the setting sun. Well, they hadn't made it as far as she thought they would by now, but..."we could continue on. The next town isn't so far away, we could be there in an hour or so" she said, looking at the ofhers | Name: Niesha
Age:16
Gender: female
Description: I'll find something soon
Pokemon:
1. chimchar, Male, Named Solias
2. Pichu egg |
44,726 | 1,216 | 111 | 2,737 | 141 | Melody stretched and yawned "We could continue on, personally im in favour of a nap though" she giggled | Name - Melody Valanche
Age - 16
Bio - A cheerful, carefree girl who loves nothing more than hanging out with her dear Piplup 'EMP'. She stands at 5"1' with slightly tan skin and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She has shoulder length black hair with bright green eyes with a brown ring around the pupil, her voice is high and almost musical. She wears a large white hoodie with pale, apple green patches on the shoulders and a pair of knee length white shorts, a pale green satchel hangs at her hip. Emp can normally be seen riding in said satchel.
Family -
She lives with her mother, Laura, who is a housewife and retired psychic gym leader who once tutored Sabrina, she has a male and female pair of Alakazams and a Chimecho left from her training days, and her father, Julius, who is a scientist specialising in the study of pokeballs, he isn't as big a fan of pokemon as his wife and daughter however he is always seen with his trusty Azumarill by his side, he rescued her as an Azurill when she was chased by a flock of Staraptors and they've been inseparable ever since, he is also the one that gave Melody her Abra so that she could follow in her mothers footsteps.
Pokemon -
-"Emp" the Piplup, can be somewhat mischievous, fiercely protective of Melody and other Pokemon
-Pound
-Peck
-Bubble
-
-"Rei" the Abra, quiet and sleeps a lot
-Teleport
-Confusion
-Miracle Eye
-
-
-
-
- |
44,727 | 1,216 | 112 | 1,457 | 3,004 | Rowan looked towards the tent they had set up and sighed. It would've been a waste to set it up just to take it down now.
"Might as well. Quick rest, then travel at night." Rowan stated briefly with another sigh. | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,728 | 1,216 | 113 | 452 | 3,241 | Travel at night? Well, I guess if it's nearby. Cliff looked at Melody appraisingly. She wanted to nap here? Well... "We'll set down here for an hour or two, then. Hurry up and get your nap in. The sooner we get to town, the sooner we can sleep in beds at the Pokemon Center." | Name: Cliff
Age: 17
Description: Cliff is a rather plain young man, with the makings of a goatee growing in on his chin. He wears sunglasses with small, circular red lenses and a collared shirt. He wears cargo pants or shorts. In cold weather, he wears flannel-lined jeans. He stands at 5'8".
Pokemon:
Oshawott, Female, named Frouline |
44,729 | 1,216 | 114 | 377 | 25,995 | Its not anymore dangerous to travel at night then it is to travel during the day. We just have to be more careful not to trip and break out necks. And there are pokemon that only come out at night, so...it will be great to see them! Niesha said brightly, settling back, but she was more then ready to go, to get started, wanting to see if she could hunt up any night time pokemon | Name: Niesha
Age:16
Gender: female
Description: I'll find something soon
Pokemon:
1. chimchar, Male, Named Solias
2. Pichu egg |
44,730 | 1,216 | 115 | 2,737 | 141 | Alright then its settled Melody crawled into the tent followed by Emp "Good night" sha called from inside, pulling out a pillow from her bag but didnt worry about a blanket as it wasnt cold. She lay down with Emp held close and began to drift off to sleep. | Name - Melody Valanche
Age - 16
Bio - A cheerful, carefree girl who loves nothing more than hanging out with her dear Piplup 'EMP'. She stands at 5"1' with slightly tan skin and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She has shoulder length black hair with bright green eyes with a brown ring around the pupil, her voice is high and almost musical. She wears a large white hoodie with pale, apple green patches on the shoulders and a pair of knee length white shorts, a pale green satchel hangs at her hip. Emp can normally be seen riding in said satchel.
Family -
She lives with her mother, Laura, who is a housewife and retired psychic gym leader who once tutored Sabrina, she has a male and female pair of Alakazams and a Chimecho left from her training days, and her father, Julius, who is a scientist specialising in the study of pokeballs, he isn't as big a fan of pokemon as his wife and daughter however he is always seen with his trusty Azumarill by his side, he rescued her as an Azurill when she was chased by a flock of Staraptors and they've been inseparable ever since, he is also the one that gave Melody her Abra so that she could follow in her mothers footsteps.
Pokemon -
-"Emp" the Piplup, can be somewhat mischievous, fiercely protective of Melody and other Pokemon
-Pound
-Peck
-Bubble
-
-"Rei" the Abra, quiet and sleeps a lot
-Teleport
-Confusion
-Miracle Eye
-
-
-
-
- |
44,731 | 1,216 | 116 | 1,457 | 3,004 | Rowan nodded in agreement as he emptied the contents of the frying pan into a tupperware container he had in his backpack. The leftover food had cooled long enough and now Rowan got up and dusted himself off.
He had a water bottle in one hand, and the frying pan in the other as he walked five or so metres away from everyone else. He stopped and opened the water bottle before pouring some of the contents into the frying pan. He couldn't properly clean the pan at this stage but he could at least wash it off. | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,732 | 1,216 | 117 | 1,457 | 3,004 | Dec 2015 13:58 2 yrs ago | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,733 | 1,216 | 118 | 377 | 25,995 | Neisha didn't particularly feel like napping, so instead she took out a journal, beginning to write in it. She felt like it was important to take down what had happened on her journey, and she painstaking drew in images of the pokemon she had seen so far, wanting them to be good. Yes, she had a pokedex, but she thought that it would be beneficial to her to make her own notes.
It was some time later when she heard a rhythmic thumping. Frowning, she glanced about, and then leaped to her pack, taking out the egg, which was making some noises | Name: Niesha
Age:16
Gender: female
Description: I'll find something soon
Pokemon:
1. chimchar, Male, Named Solias
2. Pichu egg |
44,734 | 1,216 | 119 | 452 | 3,241 | Cliff naps with Frouline sprawled out on his stomach. He gives her lazy scratches under her chin as he dozes, ir behind her ears, eliciting pleased little murmurs from the pokemon. | Name: Cliff
Age: 17
Description: Cliff is a rather plain young man, with the makings of a goatee growing in on his chin. He wears sunglasses with small, circular red lenses and a collared shirt. He wears cargo pants or shorts. In cold weather, he wears flannel-lined jeans. He stands at 5'8".
Pokemon:
Oshawott, Female, named Frouline |
44,735 | 1,216 | 120 | 1,457 | 3,004 | After Melody had a nap for a couple of hours and everyone had a quick rest, Rowan nudged Melody gently with his foot.
"Wake up." | Name: Rowan Rin
Age: 15
Description: Cool, calm and levelheaded who has a massive sweet tooth. He stands at 5"8' with pale, easily burned skin. He has shaggy, almost mop-like white hair with dark red eyes and sounds devoid of most emotions. He wears a dark brown long sleeved undershirt with a lighter brown hooded sweater and a snow white jacket with a pair of brown trousers and he carries a dark brown camping pack.
Pokemon:
1. Twig (Turtwig), quiet and lazy
-Tackle
-Razor Leaf
-Leech Seed
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. |
44,736 | 1,217 | 0 | 842 | 79 | The smell of salt on the cool morning air is the first thing Aquilan can make sense of. The chatter of seagulls and faint ache of muscle pains from the extended stay in the sea crept its way into his dulled mind. Suddenly, all feelings would return as a wave of cool water would come crashing down upon him. The water was chilled, filling his clothing once more as his red and black hair floated in the wave’s pause. His mouth felt dry, and much like this wave that woke him up, his memories flooded his mind as the cool water flowed back to the ocean. His time in the academy, his time in the dungeon, his travels and studies as well as what he surely thought was his death. He was now fully awake as he lay on his back in the clothing he was wearing during his voyage. His sword was strangely rested upon his breast, as though someone had placed it there to keep it from being buried beneath the sand. It was very hard to do more than blink, and even then his eyes still burned. The sun would rise quickly before his mind would return from his memories. A shadow passed over the sun, a shadow far thicker than any seagull. A heavy sliding noise was followed by the sound of wood hitting wood. A small boat had ran ashore as the tide left the beach.
Zarriia awoke to the sound of seagulls and crashing waves. The storm was not a dream, she had infact been aboard a ship lost to the sea. Thankfully, she was capable of stealing one of the small dinghies tied to the side of the massive cargo ship. She had a 31 gallon barrel of water and a covered crate of rations that were more than enough to last her for two weeks. The sail was in tatters as her eyes came into focus. Her mind begged her to close her eyes again, to let sleep take her back beneath its fold. Sadly, the impact of hitting the beach wished otherwise. The drow was jostled from her bench, saved from falling in the small amount of water within the boat by the barrel. Her mouth felt like a desert, her tongue like a piece of cotton. The salty air had done a number on her. She was now fully awake despite her body's protest. Her boat was in still water behind a large sandbar. It slowly started to lean as the water drained out of the large basin.
Zarriia could see inland on the beach. There was a large low profile ship that looked to have been beached years ago. The metal decking and rust as well as the lack of any mast or sails hinted at a dwarven design. Further off in the distance stood an imposing cliff that was easily over six hundred feet tall. As the sun rose behind her, its light would catch a shimmer on the beach before her. There appeared to be an elven man laying on his back slightly off to the right of her little craft. His lips were blistered from what she could see, hinting that he had been at sea without the luxury of hiding himself from the sun. He appeared to be awake, however he did not look to be in good health. His pointed ears were jutting out from beneath his long black hair. Zarriia might have mistaken him for a Nillian if it were not for his elven ears and the light red streaks that patterned his hair. | Character Name: (first and last.)
Gender:
Height:
Age:
Race:
Birth continent: (Avalon or Titan.)
Description: (Pictures work as well.)
Personality:
History/backstory:
Ect:
Modify and send to me as you see fit! |
44,737 | 1,217 | 1 | 1,319 | 1,807 | Rats. Rats with wings to laugh at the rats on the sea. It made a almost poetic and sadistic sense to a unknown god beyond the far dark reaches of the abyss. Jostled by the joke of a boat she gripped the barrel and crate cursing in the Drowish tongue. Zarriia swore again upon seeing the massive cliff side that was more a wall for a prison. She had seen prison walls and this had death and despair written all over it. Checking her weapons to be assured of their being in place and of her own safety. It was more than comforting to feel the familiar weight of armor and weapons against her darkened skin. Her pale hair didn't show the crystals of salt that was most assuredly there. Opening the barrel of water enough to drink a good few gulps of the water, satisfying her thirst. It was so very needed, the water spreading relief against her parched throat. Closing the lid back and making it tight against the oncoming mist of salt water. Her eyes stung as she spat on her hands rubbing the salt from them and her eyes.
The splash of her boots hitting the water seemed overly loud to her ears, and most likely the elf heard. But that was not her concern as of now. He was merely a elf, she was drow. Survival was her priority and she had the supplies and thus the power in the arrange of things. Water, food, and weapons as far as she knew was hers to hold and he was on the short end of the stick. Hauling the small dinghie onto the shore of the beach. Better to have it grounded than to let her rations and water sink and be spoiled. As she worked on securing her boat, she kept a sharp eye and ear for any danger. Especially that of the cliff and elf. Two dangers and unknown elements. If she was smart she would take a dagger and subdue the elf. But she wasn't like the other Drow, to cause him harm would do her no good. Not as of yet. So she would spare him, for the moment. Her first job was survival, then the rest would fall into place as it always had. | Character Name: Zarriia Ma'doc
Gender: Female
Height: Five foot six inches
Age: 200
Race: Drow
Birth continent: Avalon
Description: A sleek Drow. her skin is ashen grey with golden yellow eyes that would remind one of a bird of prey or some great cat. Her silver hair often is pulled back in a braid and coiled into a bun. With the typical build of a female Drow, narrow hips, thin waist. Slim and lethal. She keeps her chest bound by a corset. For her armor she wears a light mixture of metal and plate. A dark cloak with a deep hood to conceal her from watching eyes. She wears several pouches and small bags for trinkets on her belt.
"I must look my best, not to impress but to define. That beauty is best served deadly."
Personality: A diplomat, and survivalist. She will do what she must to survive, but she understands the need for respect to gods and other beings. Namely those of a greater and more lethal power than herself. She will avoid trouble if she can, as a survivalist, but if there is a good pay out Zarria will risk it. She also will not get involve in another's problems, less there is some pay out. But as a Ma'doc, she had a true love of history and learning. Uncovering the hidden truths. But she will balance the worth of history against her life and depending on her outlook, she could very well set her life aside.
"History, glorious history. Lost, forgotten. Waiting to be revived."
History/backstory: Born to a Drow family complete with matron and all typical things, Zarriia had a good education in the ways of the world. Her family is very philosophical and thus she was raised to be a diplomat. Complete with the subterfuge (Thievery, spying, and backstabbing) of the Drow. She learned the Courtly Graces of manners as to not get her head lopped off by Drow Empresses of Priestess. Her mother, Quarriia was rather big on manners and being the best. It didn't help she has younger sisters looking to dispose of her to get closer to a spot as the next Matron for the family. However, not close to being the first born she enjoys traveling rather than sitting about and waiting for a dagger in the back. Her father, mated to her mother till his untimely death by a jealous lover fifty years ago, taught her sword, bow, and spear. Insisting that if she was to travel it would be needed. Leaving home to escape the scandal and out of comradely for her departed farther.
Now traveling for the sheer joy of new horizons and to uncover lost legacies along the way. Zarriia was stunned to learn exactly how hated the Drow were on Titan and so quickly learned a Titan accent, shrouding herself in robes in the more populated areas of Titan, taking the disguise of a scholar. On the road or in places were some thorny armor wouldn't go amiss she keeps the mask of her armor up to conceal her Drowish heritage. Zarriia spent the last fifty years exploring Titan and learning about this new and previously unknown land. But trouble struck when she was forced to leave town quickly after a bit too public brawl broke out in a tavern. Taking a ship, the Drow meant to head North. Intent on more exploration but her ship was caught in a freak storm of nature and tossed about viciously. Now washed up on a beach and thankfully with her weapons and armor intact, she looks upon the legendary Crator Island and prays to Lloth that the legends are worse than reality.
"My father's dead, my mother lies, my brothers die, and my sisters smile and stab each other while pretending family love. Typical Drow."
Ect: Basic Equipment: Short bow, quiver of Bodkin arrows (25). Drowish short sword, 10 drowish daggers |
44,738 | 1,217 | 2 | 1,305 | 1,314 | Quil opened his eyes and immediately squinted against the brightness of the sun. He was on his back, his armor and the tunic he wore underneath wet from the sea. He felt cold and exhausted and felt the urge to just close his eyes again. I'm supposed to be dead, after all. He thought tiredly. Just then, a wave rolled in and drenched him with cold sea water and jolted his mind fully awake.
Memories from the night before came flooding back.
He was on a ship with unmarked sails and a hired crew the night before. Two male elves wearing uniforms from Elswin Academy of Magic were on board too. The two elves were his escorts in the mission given to him by Thalandil. They were to explore Crator Island and bring back anything valuable or worth studying.
"I am sure you will be successful in this endeavor, Aquilan. And I have hopes that you would be able to bring back something worthy of the Academy." Thalandil had said when he presented Quil with the dragon scale armor.
Thalandil's words were artificial in Quil's ears. The mission was a one way ticket. No one ever came back from Crator Island. No, this wasn't a mission. It was an exile.
As he tried to accept his fate, one of the hired crew, a human, came over to talk to him. It was a long talk about the church and how it could help him with whatever concern or trouble he might have. Maybe it was that lost look Quil had that brought the man to talk to him. Whatever it was, it gave him a little insight and a little hope on how he could separate himself from the phoenix soul that resides in him.
If he could make it back alive, that is.
The thought lingered in his head until the ship hit turbulent sea waters and the crew began muttering about how Crator Island was responsible for the sudden change. Before he could do anything to assist the crew, the two Elswin elves hoisted him up over the edge and dropped him into the roiling water.
As the waves crashed violently over Quil and pulled him underneath into the darkness, all he could do was close his eyes and surrender to it. A certain death.
But now, here he was, lying under the sun's unforgiving rays, half dead but still very much alive.
He rolled to his side, the sword that had been lying in his chest rattled in its scabbard as it fell onto the wet sand beside him. Quil coughed, his throat sore and his lips cracked from being exposed to both sea and sun for who knows how long. He tried to swallow but found that his mouth was parchment dry.
Where am I?
Your death would have served a greater purpose than you ending up in this island. came an elegant female voice in Quil's head. A voice he knew very well.
"You've always wanted me dead, Lady." Quil croaked out, his throat scratchy from dehydration. No matter how many centuries they spent together, the phoenix never spoke her name and so he settled to calling her 'Lady.' "I apologize for disappointing you." He muttered.
A splashing sound to his left made Quil sit up, his hand automatically grabbing the sword in its scabbard by his side, now partially buried in the wet sand. A sudden burst of adrenalin brought him up to his feet. A female drow was standing on the beach, securing her small boat.
His first instinct was self preservation. He looked around. A wide expanse of sand and sea, a beached ship and an impossibly tall cliff. And then, a drow. Everything spelled danger. His heart accelerated its pace, pumping phoenix fire into his veins. It warmed him but at the same time burned out the adrenalin from his system. He swayed on his feet and staggered forward. The small waves lapping against his boots began to sizzle and boil. | Name: Aquilan Reluvethel
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2
Age: 415
Race: Elf
Birth Continent: Titan
Description:
Quil appears to be like any other male elf. He has fair complexion, regal stature, a heart shaped face with an aristocratic nose and of course, pointed ears that are characteristic of his race. But what sets him apart from the whole elven population is his red eyes and red streaked black hair.
He wears a black dragon scale armor hidden beneath a blood red cloak.
Personality:
Quil is reserved and quiet. He prefers to keep to himself and avoid interaction with other people be it humans, dwarves or elves. He rarely smiles and can be described as stoic and emotionless. Due to what he had gone through in his early years and due to losing his family, he had learned that he only has himself to depend on. And because of this, he is hard to trust others as he also doesn't expect people to trust him. When spoken to, he would answer as briefly as possible or not at all.
History/Backstory:
Quil is the last descendant of the long line of Reluvethel elves, a race of elves that has exceptionally potent healing capabilities and elemental affinity. These elves were commonly employed as healers or as enhancers. Enhancers are elves who harness the elements to help with agriculture, industry and the Academies.
Quil used to look like most Reluvethel elves when he was younger. His hair had been pure black and his eyes had been clear blue. What changed his appearance was an event that would unfold at a later age.
At an early age, Quil had manifested excellent affinity with fire and had several times attracted a rare phoenix to himself while he had been training with his father in the woods. Lafarallin Lathlaerin, the head of Elswin Academy of Magic, had witnessed this and formed a hypothesis in his head. He convinced Kelvhan Reluvethel, Quil's father, to have his son sent to the Academy for study and to be able to hone his elemental skills that he may be an Enhancer when he comes of age.
With Kelvhan's consent, Quil was sent to Elswin and progressed steadily under the tutelage of Lafarallin. But the older elf had something else in mind. His true intention was to fuse the phoenix to the elf, in the hopes of granting the young elf a greater power. His reasons for this was unknown but Quil would later conclude that Lafarallin had interest in politics and that he was one of the old elf's experiment to further his own ambitions.
Eventually, Lafarallin's hypothesis proved true. He was successful in fusing the elf with the phoenix but not without consequences. Quil's appearance changed. His veins, filled with flame from the creature, gave him a more potent healing ability and greater control over fire. But with this enhancement, he became unstable mentally. The creature had not fused with him as Lafarallin had thought. It was as different entity and it was not pleased in being trapped in another's body. Quil could hear its thoughts, he could feel its anger, its frustration. He could feel it trying to get out, trying to find a way to separate itself from the elf. The constant struggle for control took its toll and eventually made his enhanced abilities unstable. In a moment of weakness, Quil unleashed a wave of flame so strong that he managed to burn down most of Lafarallin's associates. Lafarallin soon ordered Quil be imprisoned in a cell built under the Academy. Fearing that his experiment would be discovered, he commissioned assassins to annihilate all Reluvethel elves.
Centuries imprisoned with only four walls as company gave Quil more than enough time to meditate and he soon found peace with the creature inside of him. The old elf Lafarallin eventually passed away leaving his son, Thalandil, to continue his studies. Thalandil took a chance and released Quil experimentally into society. Exposed to people so suddenly, Quil bordered on instability again. And so before he could wreak havoc, Thalandil decided to send Quil to Crator Island with the order to find out everything he can about its secrets in exchange for his freedom. Crator Island would be the perfect place to exile Quil. If Quil manages to succeed, then it would bring glory to the Academy, Thalandil and his father's name forever immortalized in history. But if Quil perished in the island, then it would just benefit the Academy to be rid of an experiment the King had no knowledge of.
The transport was perilous as the waters near the island roiled and bubbled in fury. The ship carrying Quil was tossed around until it was almost capsized. The ships crew, afraid for their lives, tossed Quil into the unforgiving water and left him to fare for his own. Dragged down into the dark blue depths, Quil surrendered himself to the darkness.
But he found himself washed up on the beach of the very island he was ordered to explore.
Etc: Quil's only weapon is a plain sword he would later temper and imbue with fire. |
44,739 | 1,217 | 3 | 842 | 79 | The air was slightly chilled as the two figures on the beach would notice each other. Be it from an unseen breeze, or the rush of adrenaline accompanied with spotting a stranger on the shores of a cursed island that was now their prison. Zarriia would quickly pick up on the movement caused by this elf as Quil got to his feet. The drow could see and hear the water as it evaporated from Quil's boots and clothing. There was no doubt about this man having an magical affinity.
Aquilan would see that this drow did not seem to concern herself with him, rather her small boat which appeared to have supplies aboard. He would witness her drink from a barrel, the sight of fresh water reminding him of just how thirsty he was. Aquilan would also note that this drow had a bow and several small daggers about her veiled appearance. From the quality, she was either a nobleman's daughter or a proficient killer. Given her drowish culture, she may very well be both. Either way, her back was presented at the distance of 30 yards for the short while she pulled the boat into the sand. | Character Name: (first and last.)
Gender:
Height:
Age:
Race:
Birth continent: (Avalon or Titan.)
Description: (Pictures work as well.)
Personality:
History/backstory:
Ect:
Modify and send to me as you see fit! |
44,740 | 1,217 | 4 | 1,319 | 1,807 | Sweeping the long braid that was reminiscent of pale moonlight over one shoulder. The pins having fallen out during the scramble for the small boat that had saved her wretched life. Her boat secure and thirst sated, she turned to face the elf with a ease and relaxation that belonged in a local tavern or home. Not on a beach littered with debris, and especially not with soar cliff walls that promised a demise Zarriia did not care to think about. Loosening her sword, she felt comfort from the steel that wrapped about her. Her golden eyes narrowed in thought. While magic was useful and certainly a danger. It also could become a crutch. She had seen it among her sisters, among the Priestess of Lloth. A well placed dagger, or bit of poison would easily bring down a mage. It was simply a bit more trickier. More cunning would be needed.
Though she was ready to fight if it was needed, she didn't offer violence as she walked to stand five yards from the surface elf. Her one hand resting on the pommel of her sword lazily. Her feet in a stance to lunge or dodge should he appear a threat, and the boiling water was a good indication he could well be one if he chose to. Something she didn't want nor need to tangle with as of this moment. They were in a dangerous situation and Zarriia was well aware that two worked better than one. Now to see where the elf stood on the matter.
Gold eyes took the elf in, each detail noted as she stood for a few long moments. He was not a bad looking for a surface elf. So she spoke, her voice neutral, but direct. "It seems we're in the same boat, or rather out of our respective boats." She let her lips quirk, her mask lowered as she didn't feel like tasting salt. Her gear would need washed and cleaned before she felt home in it again. "Don't think you'll get any of my supplies, lest you have a bargain to offer. Of course I'm presuming you understand the situation of stranded on a island with cliffs such as those?" Her stance was loose, but she was ready too move. Some surface elves could be so very testy and if this one was then she would have to deal with him for better or worse. She would not let another's idiocy chance her life. He could very well stab her in sleep, or come up when she was wounded or winded. He represented a risk, though one that needed taking. | Character Name: Zarriia Ma'doc
Gender: Female
Height: Five foot six inches
Age: 200
Race: Drow
Birth continent: Avalon
Description: A sleek Drow. her skin is ashen grey with golden yellow eyes that would remind one of a bird of prey or some great cat. Her silver hair often is pulled back in a braid and coiled into a bun. With the typical build of a female Drow, narrow hips, thin waist. Slim and lethal. She keeps her chest bound by a corset. For her armor she wears a light mixture of metal and plate. A dark cloak with a deep hood to conceal her from watching eyes. She wears several pouches and small bags for trinkets on her belt.
"I must look my best, not to impress but to define. That beauty is best served deadly."
Personality: A diplomat, and survivalist. She will do what she must to survive, but she understands the need for respect to gods and other beings. Namely those of a greater and more lethal power than herself. She will avoid trouble if she can, as a survivalist, but if there is a good pay out Zarria will risk it. She also will not get involve in another's problems, less there is some pay out. But as a Ma'doc, she had a true love of history and learning. Uncovering the hidden truths. But she will balance the worth of history against her life and depending on her outlook, she could very well set her life aside.
"History, glorious history. Lost, forgotten. Waiting to be revived."
History/backstory: Born to a Drow family complete with matron and all typical things, Zarriia had a good education in the ways of the world. Her family is very philosophical and thus she was raised to be a diplomat. Complete with the subterfuge (Thievery, spying, and backstabbing) of the Drow. She learned the Courtly Graces of manners as to not get her head lopped off by Drow Empresses of Priestess. Her mother, Quarriia was rather big on manners and being the best. It didn't help she has younger sisters looking to dispose of her to get closer to a spot as the next Matron for the family. However, not close to being the first born she enjoys traveling rather than sitting about and waiting for a dagger in the back. Her father, mated to her mother till his untimely death by a jealous lover fifty years ago, taught her sword, bow, and spear. Insisting that if she was to travel it would be needed. Leaving home to escape the scandal and out of comradely for her departed farther.
Now traveling for the sheer joy of new horizons and to uncover lost legacies along the way. Zarriia was stunned to learn exactly how hated the Drow were on Titan and so quickly learned a Titan accent, shrouding herself in robes in the more populated areas of Titan, taking the disguise of a scholar. On the road or in places were some thorny armor wouldn't go amiss she keeps the mask of her armor up to conceal her Drowish heritage. Zarriia spent the last fifty years exploring Titan and learning about this new and previously unknown land. But trouble struck when she was forced to leave town quickly after a bit too public brawl broke out in a tavern. Taking a ship, the Drow meant to head North. Intent on more exploration but her ship was caught in a freak storm of nature and tossed about viciously. Now washed up on a beach and thankfully with her weapons and armor intact, she looks upon the legendary Crator Island and prays to Lloth that the legends are worse than reality.
"My father's dead, my mother lies, my brothers die, and my sisters smile and stab each other while pretending family love. Typical Drow."
Ect: Basic Equipment: Short bow, quiver of Bodkin arrows (25). Drowish short sword, 10 drowish daggers |
44,741 | 1,217 | 5 | 1,305 | 1,314 | Quil studied the Drow. It was clear that she was not magically affiliated by the way she carried herself and the way she moved made. He noticed the bow and arrow as well as the knives. Definitely a danger to him. While physically, he can defend himself, (he was after all trained by his father in combat) having the phoenix inhabiting his body made him unstable. He can control a fraction of the fire power inside him but most times it bursted out and caused him damage more than it helped. If he didn't get things under control, he might actually die before he could even do anything or without even setting a foot out of the beach they were in.
"A bargain, perhaps?" Quil rasped out, the words clawing at his dried throat. He coughed several times before he continued. "I need only enough water--" he cleared his throat. "--to wet my throat. I don't have much to offer--" he swallowed and then coughed. "--as I don't have supplies like you do but I can at least dry your clothes and gear." The water around him continued to sizzle, the salt that had formed from the dried up sea water on his armor falling back to the water like powder. | Name: Aquilan Reluvethel
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2
Age: 415
Race: Elf
Birth Continent: Titan
Description:
Quil appears to be like any other male elf. He has fair complexion, regal stature, a heart shaped face with an aristocratic nose and of course, pointed ears that are characteristic of his race. But what sets him apart from the whole elven population is his red eyes and red streaked black hair.
He wears a black dragon scale armor hidden beneath a blood red cloak.
Personality:
Quil is reserved and quiet. He prefers to keep to himself and avoid interaction with other people be it humans, dwarves or elves. He rarely smiles and can be described as stoic and emotionless. Due to what he had gone through in his early years and due to losing his family, he had learned that he only has himself to depend on. And because of this, he is hard to trust others as he also doesn't expect people to trust him. When spoken to, he would answer as briefly as possible or not at all.
History/Backstory:
Quil is the last descendant of the long line of Reluvethel elves, a race of elves that has exceptionally potent healing capabilities and elemental affinity. These elves were commonly employed as healers or as enhancers. Enhancers are elves who harness the elements to help with agriculture, industry and the Academies.
Quil used to look like most Reluvethel elves when he was younger. His hair had been pure black and his eyes had been clear blue. What changed his appearance was an event that would unfold at a later age.
At an early age, Quil had manifested excellent affinity with fire and had several times attracted a rare phoenix to himself while he had been training with his father in the woods. Lafarallin Lathlaerin, the head of Elswin Academy of Magic, had witnessed this and formed a hypothesis in his head. He convinced Kelvhan Reluvethel, Quil's father, to have his son sent to the Academy for study and to be able to hone his elemental skills that he may be an Enhancer when he comes of age.
With Kelvhan's consent, Quil was sent to Elswin and progressed steadily under the tutelage of Lafarallin. But the older elf had something else in mind. His true intention was to fuse the phoenix to the elf, in the hopes of granting the young elf a greater power. His reasons for this was unknown but Quil would later conclude that Lafarallin had interest in politics and that he was one of the old elf's experiment to further his own ambitions.
Eventually, Lafarallin's hypothesis proved true. He was successful in fusing the elf with the phoenix but not without consequences. Quil's appearance changed. His veins, filled with flame from the creature, gave him a more potent healing ability and greater control over fire. But with this enhancement, he became unstable mentally. The creature had not fused with him as Lafarallin had thought. It was as different entity and it was not pleased in being trapped in another's body. Quil could hear its thoughts, he could feel its anger, its frustration. He could feel it trying to get out, trying to find a way to separate itself from the elf. The constant struggle for control took its toll and eventually made his enhanced abilities unstable. In a moment of weakness, Quil unleashed a wave of flame so strong that he managed to burn down most of Lafarallin's associates. Lafarallin soon ordered Quil be imprisoned in a cell built under the Academy. Fearing that his experiment would be discovered, he commissioned assassins to annihilate all Reluvethel elves.
Centuries imprisoned with only four walls as company gave Quil more than enough time to meditate and he soon found peace with the creature inside of him. The old elf Lafarallin eventually passed away leaving his son, Thalandil, to continue his studies. Thalandil took a chance and released Quil experimentally into society. Exposed to people so suddenly, Quil bordered on instability again. And so before he could wreak havoc, Thalandil decided to send Quil to Crator Island with the order to find out everything he can about its secrets in exchange for his freedom. Crator Island would be the perfect place to exile Quil. If Quil manages to succeed, then it would bring glory to the Academy, Thalandil and his father's name forever immortalized in history. But if Quil perished in the island, then it would just benefit the Academy to be rid of an experiment the King had no knowledge of.
The transport was perilous as the waters near the island roiled and bubbled in fury. The ship carrying Quil was tossed around until it was almost capsized. The ships crew, afraid for their lives, tossed Quil into the unforgiving water and left him to fare for his own. Dragged down into the dark blue depths, Quil surrendered himself to the darkness.
But he found himself washed up on the beach of the very island he was ordered to explore.
Etc: Quil's only weapon is a plain sword he would later temper and imbue with fire. |
44,742 | 1,217 | 6 | 842 | 79 | The sun was now filling the beach with a clear light as it fully rose above the horizon. As the two talked, their senses would slowly press about them. With every waking second of conversation each of the two would notice more details about the beach as well as each other.
The beach itself was indeed covered in drift wood, meaning that starting a fire would, or rather should, be easy. The wrecked dwarven ship looked to be very solid despite its rust and age. It could offer them shelter should they manage to cooperate. Several other ships were buried in the sand of the beach. Most of them capsized and buried further inland towards this massive looming cliff. The cliff itself looked to be natural despite its very unnatural height. The ship had a large hole in the left side, the side facing them. This hole was even with the sands, and would allow anyone to walk within the bowels of the ship.
Zarriia would notice that this elf seemed to be in no position to harm her other than for his own survival, and that he could very well dry out her rather damp clothing. If anything, he could start a fire for them to cook fish on should they manage to catch any. Aquilan would notice that this woman was unnaturally calm. It would seem that she was very used to dangers and bad situations, not only that but her bow could be used to fish. Whatever supplies were in that boat would not last forever.
The choice was now theirs to make. | Character Name: (first and last.)
Gender:
Height:
Age:
Race:
Birth continent: (Avalon or Titan.)
Description: (Pictures work as well.)
Personality:
History/backstory:
Ect:
Modify and send to me as you see fit! |
44,743 | 1,217 | 7 | 1,319 | 1,807 | She watched with a cold detachment, as if his magery and position did not bother her. In fact, the magery bothered Zarriia plenty, she had witness and partaken in more than one sacrifices and mages more often than not seemed to enjoy them more than they should. Of course it could just be a Drowish thing, but it was a risk she was willing to take. "Fine. Dry them and you'll have your water." Hopefully he had enough control as to not cook her. Or destroy her much needed gear.
Noting the boat and firewood, she turned her gaze back to the elf. There would be wood and shelter for the night at least, tomorrow she reasoned she would find more secure lodgings. A dwarven ship might hold items of use, most likely kegs of ale and such. Dwarves and their drinking. It nade for a good tavern visit other than that it was far too difficult. "I'll even extend the deal. Share of the supplies, and you follow my orders." Zarriia tilted her head to the side, grinning openly and relaxed. | Character Name: Zarriia Ma'doc
Gender: Female
Height: Five foot six inches
Age: 200
Race: Drow
Birth continent: Avalon
Description: A sleek Drow. her skin is ashen grey with golden yellow eyes that would remind one of a bird of prey or some great cat. Her silver hair often is pulled back in a braid and coiled into a bun. With the typical build of a female Drow, narrow hips, thin waist. Slim and lethal. She keeps her chest bound by a corset. For her armor she wears a light mixture of metal and plate. A dark cloak with a deep hood to conceal her from watching eyes. She wears several pouches and small bags for trinkets on her belt.
"I must look my best, not to impress but to define. That beauty is best served deadly."
Personality: A diplomat, and survivalist. She will do what she must to survive, but she understands the need for respect to gods and other beings. Namely those of a greater and more lethal power than herself. She will avoid trouble if she can, as a survivalist, but if there is a good pay out Zarria will risk it. She also will not get involve in another's problems, less there is some pay out. But as a Ma'doc, she had a true love of history and learning. Uncovering the hidden truths. But she will balance the worth of history against her life and depending on her outlook, she could very well set her life aside.
"History, glorious history. Lost, forgotten. Waiting to be revived."
History/backstory: Born to a Drow family complete with matron and all typical things, Zarriia had a good education in the ways of the world. Her family is very philosophical and thus she was raised to be a diplomat. Complete with the subterfuge (Thievery, spying, and backstabbing) of the Drow. She learned the Courtly Graces of manners as to not get her head lopped off by Drow Empresses of Priestess. Her mother, Quarriia was rather big on manners and being the best. It didn't help she has younger sisters looking to dispose of her to get closer to a spot as the next Matron for the family. However, not close to being the first born she enjoys traveling rather than sitting about and waiting for a dagger in the back. Her father, mated to her mother till his untimely death by a jealous lover fifty years ago, taught her sword, bow, and spear. Insisting that if she was to travel it would be needed. Leaving home to escape the scandal and out of comradely for her departed farther.
Now traveling for the sheer joy of new horizons and to uncover lost legacies along the way. Zarriia was stunned to learn exactly how hated the Drow were on Titan and so quickly learned a Titan accent, shrouding herself in robes in the more populated areas of Titan, taking the disguise of a scholar. On the road or in places were some thorny armor wouldn't go amiss she keeps the mask of her armor up to conceal her Drowish heritage. Zarriia spent the last fifty years exploring Titan and learning about this new and previously unknown land. But trouble struck when she was forced to leave town quickly after a bit too public brawl broke out in a tavern. Taking a ship, the Drow meant to head North. Intent on more exploration but her ship was caught in a freak storm of nature and tossed about viciously. Now washed up on a beach and thankfully with her weapons and armor intact, she looks upon the legendary Crator Island and prays to Lloth that the legends are worse than reality.
"My father's dead, my mother lies, my brothers die, and my sisters smile and stab each other while pretending family love. Typical Drow."
Ect: Basic Equipment: Short bow, quiver of Bodkin arrows (25). Drowish short sword, 10 drowish daggers |
44,744 | 1,217 | 8 | 1,305 | 1,314 | The phoenix was probably observing the exchange of words as it remained silent in Quil's mind. It didn't bother the elf one bit, her silence gave him time to be himself and to claim his thoughts as his alone. At the drow's consent, Quil stepped forward and crossed the distance between them, his movements slowed by both hunger and thirst. He reached out a hand tentatively, making small movements as not to look threatening. She was definitely a danger to him but at least not for the moment. At the moment, he needed her to survive.
Quil gently laid a hand on the Drow's shoulder. A warm feeling instantly spread through the Drow's body as her clothes and armor dried up, powdered salt falling back onto the sand. He removed his hand from her shoulder as soon as she was completely dry. He stepped back and began looking around. Driftwood littered the beach. It would be an easy task to keep warm throughout the night. Not that he needed it. He was warm enough with the phoenix fire running through his veins. His eyes fell on her bow and arrow. Fish would be easy to catch with the sharp tipped weapons...if she was willing to use them for that purpose. The capsized ship wasn't the most comfortable but it would provide shelter for the meantime. And finally, the daunting cliff. His mind conjured up images of ships smashing on it.
He turned his attention back to the Drow and at the new offer she extended to him. On a normal day, he would have laughed at her offer. He was done following orders. He was free now...
His eyes flicked back to the cliff.
Well, free... in a way...
"Fine." Quil finally agreed. His eyes settled onto her small boat. "Would you mind...? Water?" He rasped. | Name: Aquilan Reluvethel
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2
Age: 415
Race: Elf
Birth Continent: Titan
Description:
Quil appears to be like any other male elf. He has fair complexion, regal stature, a heart shaped face with an aristocratic nose and of course, pointed ears that are characteristic of his race. But what sets him apart from the whole elven population is his red eyes and red streaked black hair.
He wears a black dragon scale armor hidden beneath a blood red cloak.
Personality:
Quil is reserved and quiet. He prefers to keep to himself and avoid interaction with other people be it humans, dwarves or elves. He rarely smiles and can be described as stoic and emotionless. Due to what he had gone through in his early years and due to losing his family, he had learned that he only has himself to depend on. And because of this, he is hard to trust others as he also doesn't expect people to trust him. When spoken to, he would answer as briefly as possible or not at all.
History/Backstory:
Quil is the last descendant of the long line of Reluvethel elves, a race of elves that has exceptionally potent healing capabilities and elemental affinity. These elves were commonly employed as healers or as enhancers. Enhancers are elves who harness the elements to help with agriculture, industry and the Academies.
Quil used to look like most Reluvethel elves when he was younger. His hair had been pure black and his eyes had been clear blue. What changed his appearance was an event that would unfold at a later age.
At an early age, Quil had manifested excellent affinity with fire and had several times attracted a rare phoenix to himself while he had been training with his father in the woods. Lafarallin Lathlaerin, the head of Elswin Academy of Magic, had witnessed this and formed a hypothesis in his head. He convinced Kelvhan Reluvethel, Quil's father, to have his son sent to the Academy for study and to be able to hone his elemental skills that he may be an Enhancer when he comes of age.
With Kelvhan's consent, Quil was sent to Elswin and progressed steadily under the tutelage of Lafarallin. But the older elf had something else in mind. His true intention was to fuse the phoenix to the elf, in the hopes of granting the young elf a greater power. His reasons for this was unknown but Quil would later conclude that Lafarallin had interest in politics and that he was one of the old elf's experiment to further his own ambitions.
Eventually, Lafarallin's hypothesis proved true. He was successful in fusing the elf with the phoenix but not without consequences. Quil's appearance changed. His veins, filled with flame from the creature, gave him a more potent healing ability and greater control over fire. But with this enhancement, he became unstable mentally. The creature had not fused with him as Lafarallin had thought. It was as different entity and it was not pleased in being trapped in another's body. Quil could hear its thoughts, he could feel its anger, its frustration. He could feel it trying to get out, trying to find a way to separate itself from the elf. The constant struggle for control took its toll and eventually made his enhanced abilities unstable. In a moment of weakness, Quil unleashed a wave of flame so strong that he managed to burn down most of Lafarallin's associates. Lafarallin soon ordered Quil be imprisoned in a cell built under the Academy. Fearing that his experiment would be discovered, he commissioned assassins to annihilate all Reluvethel elves.
Centuries imprisoned with only four walls as company gave Quil more than enough time to meditate and he soon found peace with the creature inside of him. The old elf Lafarallin eventually passed away leaving his son, Thalandil, to continue his studies. Thalandil took a chance and released Quil experimentally into society. Exposed to people so suddenly, Quil bordered on instability again. And so before he could wreak havoc, Thalandil decided to send Quil to Crator Island with the order to find out everything he can about its secrets in exchange for his freedom. Crator Island would be the perfect place to exile Quil. If Quil manages to succeed, then it would bring glory to the Academy, Thalandil and his father's name forever immortalized in history. But if Quil perished in the island, then it would just benefit the Academy to be rid of an experiment the King had no knowledge of.
The transport was perilous as the waters near the island roiled and bubbled in fury. The ship carrying Quil was tossed around until it was almost capsized. The ships crew, afraid for their lives, tossed Quil into the unforgiving water and left him to fare for his own. Dragged down into the dark blue depths, Quil surrendered himself to the darkness.
But he found himself washed up on the beach of the very island he was ordered to explore.
Etc: Quil's only weapon is a plain sword he would later temper and imbue with fire. |
44,745 | 1,217 | 9 | 842 | 79 | After moving over to assist the drow, Quil would spot what he asked for. The barrel was upright in the small dingy the drow had arrived in. It was plainly visible from where Aquilan now stood. As he looked at the cliff he would notice that it was no longer as bleak as it was only moments ago. The light of the morning sun was now casting a faint warmth over the both of them as it reached it’s full strength just above the horizon. The cliff face was glowing in the light of the morning sun as the gentle rays bounces off of the many rocks and smoothed slabs of Granite. The even tones almost made the cliff look beautiful. This beauty, however, faded as fast as it had appeared.
Zarriia would hear this man accept her offer without much protest, it was obvious the he needed water. After Zarriia’s cloths were dried, she would feel comfortably warm. This feeling, however, was ruined as she started to feel the salt within her boots. Regardless of this minor detail, she would catch the elf looking her over the same way she had him. His expression was hard to read as his face was dry and his lips were cracked. He wouldn’t be useful no matter what he did if he was not given water soon. Zarria would notice the cliff in the light of the sun as well, the reflected rays removed nearly all of the shadows on the beach. It would be a breathtaking sight in any other situation. Though as the minute passed, so to did the light of the sun.
It would seem that this beach was void of any life aside from seagulls and the two elven bloods. There is not so much as a single skull to mark the death of the men that had been on any of these massive shipwrecks. There were also no smaller craft to be seen. The only ships that were ashore were ones that would never float again. Some of which may not even stay above the new sea of sand that they now rested upon as they rotted away. The only ship that appeared to be hospitable was the dwarven ship they could see resting as though it was made to sail through sand. | Character Name: (first and last.)
Gender:
Height:
Age:
Race:
Birth continent: (Avalon or Titan.)
Description: (Pictures work as well.)
Personality:
History/backstory:
Ect:
Modify and send to me as you see fit! |
44,746 | 1,217 | 10 | 1,319 | 1,807 | The hawk eyed Drow nodded her head slowly as she stepped to the side, leaving the way open towards the boat and her supplies. Walking with sure and swift strides towards the ruin of the Dwarven ship, Zarriia called back over her shoulder. "Don't get greedy, it's got to last us both." Her smile was a feral grin that promised nothing good. "Or I may have to reduce the numbers." The threat in that statement clear and deadly as any of the knives she carried. If he wasted even a morsel she'd gut him. Torture him, enjoy him. Her blood sung with glee at the thought. While she wasn't needlessly blood thirsty, Zarriia was a drow and as such she enjoyed the letting of blood. It fascinated her and thrilled her as few other things did.
Observing the ship she loosened her daggers and sword. Prepared for any attack that may take her by surprise. Her feet moving to more easily balance herself, or spring away should the ship be unstable. Ready for the worst was her motto, and reap the best. Nothing bad could happen when you expected only the worst. With her keen eye, Zarriia was always keen to get the best. Often it was no matter the cost especially when hunting history or things of her amusements. Reaching the ship she peered into the darkness, carefully scoping for any threat or attack. Her hand on her sword hilt. | Character Name: Zarriia Ma'doc
Gender: Female
Height: Five foot six inches
Age: 200
Race: Drow
Birth continent: Avalon
Description: A sleek Drow. her skin is ashen grey with golden yellow eyes that would remind one of a bird of prey or some great cat. Her silver hair often is pulled back in a braid and coiled into a bun. With the typical build of a female Drow, narrow hips, thin waist. Slim and lethal. She keeps her chest bound by a corset. For her armor she wears a light mixture of metal and plate. A dark cloak with a deep hood to conceal her from watching eyes. She wears several pouches and small bags for trinkets on her belt.
"I must look my best, not to impress but to define. That beauty is best served deadly."
Personality: A diplomat, and survivalist. She will do what she must to survive, but she understands the need for respect to gods and other beings. Namely those of a greater and more lethal power than herself. She will avoid trouble if she can, as a survivalist, but if there is a good pay out Zarria will risk it. She also will not get involve in another's problems, less there is some pay out. But as a Ma'doc, she had a true love of history and learning. Uncovering the hidden truths. But she will balance the worth of history against her life and depending on her outlook, she could very well set her life aside.
"History, glorious history. Lost, forgotten. Waiting to be revived."
History/backstory: Born to a Drow family complete with matron and all typical things, Zarriia had a good education in the ways of the world. Her family is very philosophical and thus she was raised to be a diplomat. Complete with the subterfuge (Thievery, spying, and backstabbing) of the Drow. She learned the Courtly Graces of manners as to not get her head lopped off by Drow Empresses of Priestess. Her mother, Quarriia was rather big on manners and being the best. It didn't help she has younger sisters looking to dispose of her to get closer to a spot as the next Matron for the family. However, not close to being the first born she enjoys traveling rather than sitting about and waiting for a dagger in the back. Her father, mated to her mother till his untimely death by a jealous lover fifty years ago, taught her sword, bow, and spear. Insisting that if she was to travel it would be needed. Leaving home to escape the scandal and out of comradely for her departed farther.
Now traveling for the sheer joy of new horizons and to uncover lost legacies along the way. Zarriia was stunned to learn exactly how hated the Drow were on Titan and so quickly learned a Titan accent, shrouding herself in robes in the more populated areas of Titan, taking the disguise of a scholar. On the road or in places were some thorny armor wouldn't go amiss she keeps the mask of her armor up to conceal her Drowish heritage. Zarriia spent the last fifty years exploring Titan and learning about this new and previously unknown land. But trouble struck when she was forced to leave town quickly after a bit too public brawl broke out in a tavern. Taking a ship, the Drow meant to head North. Intent on more exploration but her ship was caught in a freak storm of nature and tossed about viciously. Now washed up on a beach and thankfully with her weapons and armor intact, she looks upon the legendary Crator Island and prays to Lloth that the legends are worse than reality.
"My father's dead, my mother lies, my brothers die, and my sisters smile and stab each other while pretending family love. Typical Drow."
Ect: Basic Equipment: Short bow, quiver of Bodkin arrows (25). Drowish short sword, 10 drowish daggers |
44,747 | 1,217 | 11 | 1,305 | 1,314 | Aquilan was not a greedy man and he knew the importance of keeping the precarious alliance for now. He ignored the Drow's threat and crossed the small distance between himself and her small supply boat. The first gulp of water soothed his dry throat. He took one more as his eyes strayed towards the cliff. The cliff was almost beautiful to look at had it not been for that daunting feeling of being trapped. He slowly put the water barrel back down, his mind trying to make sense of the situation he suddenly found himself the moment he woke up.
Perhaps being trapped in this god forsaken place isn't such a bad thing. I have nothing to look forward to back in Elswin and nothing to go home to, he found himself thinking grimly.
And what of your plans to seek out the Church's assistance with this predicament forced upon us? came the proud voice in his head.
Quil almost laughed out loud. It was ironic, this concept of him being able to make it back to Elswin alive. Hadn't he heard about the dangers the island holds when he was still a child? No one ever made it back once they stepped foot on Crator Island. It was common knowledge. "Well, Lady, I have no great confidence in my chances of survival in an unknown terrain like this one. Even you thought that death would have served me better than finding myself stuck here," he responded.
There was a long pause that Quil assumed to mean that the phoenix was weighing her options. To have Quil die may mean her death too. Their souls have been so intertwined with each other that the elf's death may be her death as well. If she wanted to be free from this mortal trap, she would have to cooperate with the elf so that he may seek other ways of separating them.
I shall lend you my power, came the phoenix's steady and sure voice.
Quil sighed. "I suppose I should thank you for it. But lending me your power would not ensure our survival. But, I thank you all the same," he said as he stepped out of the small boat and headed towards the only inhabitable looking ship wreck on the beach. | Name: Aquilan Reluvethel
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2
Age: 415
Race: Elf
Birth Continent: Titan
Description:
Quil appears to be like any other male elf. He has fair complexion, regal stature, a heart shaped face with an aristocratic nose and of course, pointed ears that are characteristic of his race. But what sets him apart from the whole elven population is his red eyes and red streaked black hair.
He wears a black dragon scale armor hidden beneath a blood red cloak.
Personality:
Quil is reserved and quiet. He prefers to keep to himself and avoid interaction with other people be it humans, dwarves or elves. He rarely smiles and can be described as stoic and emotionless. Due to what he had gone through in his early years and due to losing his family, he had learned that he only has himself to depend on. And because of this, he is hard to trust others as he also doesn't expect people to trust him. When spoken to, he would answer as briefly as possible or not at all.
History/Backstory:
Quil is the last descendant of the long line of Reluvethel elves, a race of elves that has exceptionally potent healing capabilities and elemental affinity. These elves were commonly employed as healers or as enhancers. Enhancers are elves who harness the elements to help with agriculture, industry and the Academies.
Quil used to look like most Reluvethel elves when he was younger. His hair had been pure black and his eyes had been clear blue. What changed his appearance was an event that would unfold at a later age.
At an early age, Quil had manifested excellent affinity with fire and had several times attracted a rare phoenix to himself while he had been training with his father in the woods. Lafarallin Lathlaerin, the head of Elswin Academy of Magic, had witnessed this and formed a hypothesis in his head. He convinced Kelvhan Reluvethel, Quil's father, to have his son sent to the Academy for study and to be able to hone his elemental skills that he may be an Enhancer when he comes of age.
With Kelvhan's consent, Quil was sent to Elswin and progressed steadily under the tutelage of Lafarallin. But the older elf had something else in mind. His true intention was to fuse the phoenix to the elf, in the hopes of granting the young elf a greater power. His reasons for this was unknown but Quil would later conclude that Lafarallin had interest in politics and that he was one of the old elf's experiment to further his own ambitions.
Eventually, Lafarallin's hypothesis proved true. He was successful in fusing the elf with the phoenix but not without consequences. Quil's appearance changed. His veins, filled with flame from the creature, gave him a more potent healing ability and greater control over fire. But with this enhancement, he became unstable mentally. The creature had not fused with him as Lafarallin had thought. It was as different entity and it was not pleased in being trapped in another's body. Quil could hear its thoughts, he could feel its anger, its frustration. He could feel it trying to get out, trying to find a way to separate itself from the elf. The constant struggle for control took its toll and eventually made his enhanced abilities unstable. In a moment of weakness, Quil unleashed a wave of flame so strong that he managed to burn down most of Lafarallin's associates. Lafarallin soon ordered Quil be imprisoned in a cell built under the Academy. Fearing that his experiment would be discovered, he commissioned assassins to annihilate all Reluvethel elves.
Centuries imprisoned with only four walls as company gave Quil more than enough time to meditate and he soon found peace with the creature inside of him. The old elf Lafarallin eventually passed away leaving his son, Thalandil, to continue his studies. Thalandil took a chance and released Quil experimentally into society. Exposed to people so suddenly, Quil bordered on instability again. And so before he could wreak havoc, Thalandil decided to send Quil to Crator Island with the order to find out everything he can about its secrets in exchange for his freedom. Crator Island would be the perfect place to exile Quil. If Quil manages to succeed, then it would bring glory to the Academy, Thalandil and his father's name forever immortalized in history. But if Quil perished in the island, then it would just benefit the Academy to be rid of an experiment the King had no knowledge of.
The transport was perilous as the waters near the island roiled and bubbled in fury. The ship carrying Quil was tossed around until it was almost capsized. The ships crew, afraid for their lives, tossed Quil into the unforgiving water and left him to fare for his own. Dragged down into the dark blue depths, Quil surrendered himself to the darkness.
But he found himself washed up on the beach of the very island he was ordered to explore.
Etc: Quil's only weapon is a plain sword he would later temper and imbue with fire. |
44,748 | 1,217 | 12 | 842 | 79 | No darkness filled this mighty ship’s hold as Zarriia peered into the hull breach. Another hole could be seen on the opposite side of the ship, as though something not much larger than herself had gone completely through this armored dwarven ship. Crates filled the room, however it appeared that the innards of the ship were very badly damaged. The rooms and hold space in the bow of the ship were inaccessible. As Zarriia stood in the entrance of this ship, she could tell one thing was very off about this wreck- About all of these wrecks. These ships had not crashed via wave, no they had fallen. These ships had fallen from the sky, while it is likely this dwarven vessel may be an airship, the sail bearing vessels that were around them on the beach had no means of getting where they were. A natural tide would have ground the wrecks to splinters years ago. Not to mention that this ship was not filled with seawater despite the innards being slightly lower than the sand. The floor was cracked and bent as sand seemed to have forced it’s way from beneath the boards. This ship would offer shelter, however there were still two very easily accessible holes for which man and varmint alike may enter. Aside from these details, the only other thing present was a large crate and several barrels that looked to be well aged. These crates and barrels are still tied to the pallet that had been loaded onto the ship in port. With luck, they may be full of much needed supplies or tools.
Aquilan would place the barrel down to speak to the drow only to see that she was no longer near him. The silence with which Zarriia moved was unsettling, though the sand would help with this no doubt. His eyes had no problem spotting her, however. Zarriia had already started toward the dwarven ship with weapons ready. One could hope she was eager to find shelter, however the smart man would know this drow was craving a fight. Either way, she was taking the risk of going first. As he followed, he would note that at least one tale of drowish women were true, they are rather pleasing to look at.
To Aquilan, the dwarven ship was without a doubt meant for the skies. He could tell simply from it’s lack of sails that the ship was an early model much like the ones sent in the first explorations of the Western sea. How it managed to suffer such a strange hull breach was indeed quite the mystery, as this bend in its hull was not beneath the ship, but in its side just beneath the top deck. To his knowledge, this ship would have three decks beneath the first, however as he followed the drow and could see within the ship he would see that the other decks were inaccessible. The ship was likely missing it’s entire bottom half given the consistency of the sand. | Character Name: (first and last.)
Gender:
Height:
Age:
Race:
Birth continent: (Avalon or Titan.)
Description: (Pictures work as well.)
Personality:
History/backstory:
Ect:
Modify and send to me as you see fit! |
44,749 | 1,217 | 13 | 1,319 | 1,807 | The drow woman frowned at the holes in mild concern. She would have preferred one way in and a wall she could get about at her back. But as this was what she had, it would do for the first night. Night would fall and far too quickly for Zarriia's liking. They would need firewood, which seemed plentiful, and something to block the back of the whole. Sizing them up her brow furrowed as she worked out whether the small boat she came in could be put on it's side or propped against the ship to perhaps limit the light of the fire and make a rough wall. But she kept her steps light and weapons at the ready as she moved over to the supplies in the dwarven ship to pry lids off of the barrels and crate to see what laid inside.
As she moved and worked carefully, there was no need to get a asp in the face, or some deadly trap, Zarriia was prepared to jump away or 'hit the deck'. Her lips twitched at the humor in that thought, though she didn't let the elf see it. Best he think her ruthless, cold and deadly. Safer for her, and better to keep him quelled. Speaking with a authoritative tone, she purred adding a sultry inflection on her voice. "Do be a dear and get fire wood and bring out supplies over here. Night will be upon us soon, and I'd rather not attract unwanted attention." Sharp eyes cast over her shoulder at Aquilla, "Lest you think these fell by sheer happen stance?" | Character Name: Zarriia Ma'doc
Gender: Female
Height: Five foot six inches
Age: 200
Race: Drow
Birth continent: Avalon
Description: A sleek Drow. her skin is ashen grey with golden yellow eyes that would remind one of a bird of prey or some great cat. Her silver hair often is pulled back in a braid and coiled into a bun. With the typical build of a female Drow, narrow hips, thin waist. Slim and lethal. She keeps her chest bound by a corset. For her armor she wears a light mixture of metal and plate. A dark cloak with a deep hood to conceal her from watching eyes. She wears several pouches and small bags for trinkets on her belt.
"I must look my best, not to impress but to define. That beauty is best served deadly."
Personality: A diplomat, and survivalist. She will do what she must to survive, but she understands the need for respect to gods and other beings. Namely those of a greater and more lethal power than herself. She will avoid trouble if she can, as a survivalist, but if there is a good pay out Zarria will risk it. She also will not get involve in another's problems, less there is some pay out. But as a Ma'doc, she had a true love of history and learning. Uncovering the hidden truths. But she will balance the worth of history against her life and depending on her outlook, she could very well set her life aside.
"History, glorious history. Lost, forgotten. Waiting to be revived."
History/backstory: Born to a Drow family complete with matron and all typical things, Zarriia had a good education in the ways of the world. Her family is very philosophical and thus she was raised to be a diplomat. Complete with the subterfuge (Thievery, spying, and backstabbing) of the Drow. She learned the Courtly Graces of manners as to not get her head lopped off by Drow Empresses of Priestess. Her mother, Quarriia was rather big on manners and being the best. It didn't help she has younger sisters looking to dispose of her to get closer to a spot as the next Matron for the family. However, not close to being the first born she enjoys traveling rather than sitting about and waiting for a dagger in the back. Her father, mated to her mother till his untimely death by a jealous lover fifty years ago, taught her sword, bow, and spear. Insisting that if she was to travel it would be needed. Leaving home to escape the scandal and out of comradely for her departed farther.
Now traveling for the sheer joy of new horizons and to uncover lost legacies along the way. Zarriia was stunned to learn exactly how hated the Drow were on Titan and so quickly learned a Titan accent, shrouding herself in robes in the more populated areas of Titan, taking the disguise of a scholar. On the road or in places were some thorny armor wouldn't go amiss she keeps the mask of her armor up to conceal her Drowish heritage. Zarriia spent the last fifty years exploring Titan and learning about this new and previously unknown land. But trouble struck when she was forced to leave town quickly after a bit too public brawl broke out in a tavern. Taking a ship, the Drow meant to head North. Intent on more exploration but her ship was caught in a freak storm of nature and tossed about viciously. Now washed up on a beach and thankfully with her weapons and armor intact, she looks upon the legendary Crator Island and prays to Lloth that the legends are worse than reality.
"My father's dead, my mother lies, my brothers die, and my sisters smile and stab each other while pretending family love. Typical Drow."
Ect: Basic Equipment: Short bow, quiver of Bodkin arrows (25). Drowish short sword, 10 drowish daggers |
44,750 | 1,217 | 14 | 1,305 | 1,314 | Quil's sharp eyes shifted from admiring the drow to the dwarven ship. The wreck, he noted was actually an airship and not a sea faring vessel. The hull was intact in most parts but the breach just beneath the top deck was probably what caused it to crash. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out from where he was standing the emblem that was painted on the hull. The paint was faded but it was still visible. It looked familiar but Quil couldn't quite place where he had seen it before. Dismissing the thought for the meantime, he turned his attention to where he was going. He was at the hull breach's edge when he heard the Drow's commanding voice.
"No, I do not think that this ship ran aground by coincidence," he commented as his eyes fell on the hole opposite the one he came in from. "Something shot it out of the sky from the way its damages look. Of course, I can always be wrong," he said before turning away to do as she commanded. He did, after all, promised to do as she said.
Gathering firewood was an easy task as there was plenty lying round. It took Quil only several minutes to have enough firewood gathered and pull the small supply boat to where the wreck was. | Name: Aquilan Reluvethel
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2
Age: 415
Race: Elf
Birth Continent: Titan
Description:
Quil appears to be like any other male elf. He has fair complexion, regal stature, a heart shaped face with an aristocratic nose and of course, pointed ears that are characteristic of his race. But what sets him apart from the whole elven population is his red eyes and red streaked black hair.
He wears a black dragon scale armor hidden beneath a blood red cloak.
Personality:
Quil is reserved and quiet. He prefers to keep to himself and avoid interaction with other people be it humans, dwarves or elves. He rarely smiles and can be described as stoic and emotionless. Due to what he had gone through in his early years and due to losing his family, he had learned that he only has himself to depend on. And because of this, he is hard to trust others as he also doesn't expect people to trust him. When spoken to, he would answer as briefly as possible or not at all.
History/Backstory:
Quil is the last descendant of the long line of Reluvethel elves, a race of elves that has exceptionally potent healing capabilities and elemental affinity. These elves were commonly employed as healers or as enhancers. Enhancers are elves who harness the elements to help with agriculture, industry and the Academies.
Quil used to look like most Reluvethel elves when he was younger. His hair had been pure black and his eyes had been clear blue. What changed his appearance was an event that would unfold at a later age.
At an early age, Quil had manifested excellent affinity with fire and had several times attracted a rare phoenix to himself while he had been training with his father in the woods. Lafarallin Lathlaerin, the head of Elswin Academy of Magic, had witnessed this and formed a hypothesis in his head. He convinced Kelvhan Reluvethel, Quil's father, to have his son sent to the Academy for study and to be able to hone his elemental skills that he may be an Enhancer when he comes of age.
With Kelvhan's consent, Quil was sent to Elswin and progressed steadily under the tutelage of Lafarallin. But the older elf had something else in mind. His true intention was to fuse the phoenix to the elf, in the hopes of granting the young elf a greater power. His reasons for this was unknown but Quil would later conclude that Lafarallin had interest in politics and that he was one of the old elf's experiment to further his own ambitions.
Eventually, Lafarallin's hypothesis proved true. He was successful in fusing the elf with the phoenix but not without consequences. Quil's appearance changed. His veins, filled with flame from the creature, gave him a more potent healing ability and greater control over fire. But with this enhancement, he became unstable mentally. The creature had not fused with him as Lafarallin had thought. It was as different entity and it was not pleased in being trapped in another's body. Quil could hear its thoughts, he could feel its anger, its frustration. He could feel it trying to get out, trying to find a way to separate itself from the elf. The constant struggle for control took its toll and eventually made his enhanced abilities unstable. In a moment of weakness, Quil unleashed a wave of flame so strong that he managed to burn down most of Lafarallin's associates. Lafarallin soon ordered Quil be imprisoned in a cell built under the Academy. Fearing that his experiment would be discovered, he commissioned assassins to annihilate all Reluvethel elves.
Centuries imprisoned with only four walls as company gave Quil more than enough time to meditate and he soon found peace with the creature inside of him. The old elf Lafarallin eventually passed away leaving his son, Thalandil, to continue his studies. Thalandil took a chance and released Quil experimentally into society. Exposed to people so suddenly, Quil bordered on instability again. And so before he could wreak havoc, Thalandil decided to send Quil to Crator Island with the order to find out everything he can about its secrets in exchange for his freedom. Crator Island would be the perfect place to exile Quil. If Quil manages to succeed, then it would bring glory to the Academy, Thalandil and his father's name forever immortalized in history. But if Quil perished in the island, then it would just benefit the Academy to be rid of an experiment the King had no knowledge of.
The transport was perilous as the waters near the island roiled and bubbled in fury. The ship carrying Quil was tossed around until it was almost capsized. The ships crew, afraid for their lives, tossed Quil into the unforgiving water and left him to fare for his own. Dragged down into the dark blue depths, Quil surrendered himself to the darkness.
But he found himself washed up on the beach of the very island he was ordered to explore.
Etc: Quil's only weapon is a plain sword he would later temper and imbue with fire. |
44,751 | 1,217 | 15 | 842 | 79 | The sun was already at an angle in the sky as the time passed.
Zarriia would be startled as two doves fled their roost from one of the nearby beams that had separated from the decking above. The lids of the barrels were easy enough to split, revealing what looked and smelled like dwarven ale. She would have no idea if the stuff was sour or not, but it was something worth finding. If nothing else, the barrel would offer a easy place to store rainwater. The several tied down crates were harder to get into. Telling Aquilan to gather firewood, she would set to work. The rope holding down the crates was still very strong, which means that it would be a waste to cut it. Maneuvering the ropes to the edges of the crates, she was able to pry the lid off of one of the crates in the time it took Aquilan to gather a healthy bundle of firewood and move the small boat up the beach.
Aquilan would set out to gathering driftwood and planks to prepare for whatever night may hold. He spent very little time picking up the light wooden planks that were littered about the beach, however a strange ship managed to catch his eye. This boat was made out of ironwood, making it’s hull glow a different color in the rising sun’s light. The symbol of a dove in flight was visible on the upside down ship’s bow just before the sandline. Something about the ship seemed to cause him pause. Though there was little time for exploring at the moment. He moved on after dropping off the firewood to move the dinghy up the beach where the drow had requested. Aquilan would note that this boat was a lot heavier than it looked. Dragging it up the beach proved to be a slight challenge, however it was doable without too much exertion. After dragging the boat up the beach, he would not the drow has managed to open one of the unravaged crates.
Inside of this crate was a sight that would normally be appalling to Zarriia. Dwarven military rations. The crate was packed with them, more than enough to last her and the elf for the greater part of two weeks should they eat nothing else. Not to mention there were two more crates tied down with this one. | Character Name: (first and last.)
Gender:
Height:
Age:
Race:
Birth continent: (Avalon or Titan.)
Description: (Pictures work as well.)
Personality:
History/backstory:
Ect:
Modify and send to me as you see fit! |
44,752 | 1,217 | 16 | 1,319 | 1,807 | The Drow glanced up at the doves before dismissing them as not a threat. They were merely doves, but doves meant food. Tempting as it was to string her bow and hunt, it wasn't the time. Not yet. They had supplies, and if worst came to worst she'd resort to eating the elf. It was a horrible thing to do but it was a matter of survival. Zarriia was nothing if not a survivor. The ale would be useful, though not as a drink. It would not be worth while. Better to use it as a weapon, or fuel if it resorted to that. Wedging the ropes off she steadily worked it off the lid, pulling it off quickly. Her sword was ready to attack any threat or deflect it.
Letting the ropes remain on the other two she replace the lids and began to dig a pit of the fire. Adjusting it so it was higher on the side with a clear veiw of the beach. "Put the wood for the fire in there. Stack the rest in the boat to help weigh it down." She looked at the spare entrance, checking both the time and weather as she did so. "Don't drink the ale, may be of use later. Three boxes of rations." Her voice gave a deep chuckle. "You have a affinity with fire. Something comes up, dump ale on them and set it on fire." She grinned with a violent glee. "Sounds like a warm bonfire." | Character Name: Zarriia Ma'doc
Gender: Female
Height: Five foot six inches
Age: 200
Race: Drow
Birth continent: Avalon
Description: A sleek Drow. her skin is ashen grey with golden yellow eyes that would remind one of a bird of prey or some great cat. Her silver hair often is pulled back in a braid and coiled into a bun. With the typical build of a female Drow, narrow hips, thin waist. Slim and lethal. She keeps her chest bound by a corset. For her armor she wears a light mixture of metal and plate. A dark cloak with a deep hood to conceal her from watching eyes. She wears several pouches and small bags for trinkets on her belt.
"I must look my best, not to impress but to define. That beauty is best served deadly."
Personality: A diplomat, and survivalist. She will do what she must to survive, but she understands the need for respect to gods and other beings. Namely those of a greater and more lethal power than herself. She will avoid trouble if she can, as a survivalist, but if there is a good pay out Zarria will risk it. She also will not get involve in another's problems, less there is some pay out. But as a Ma'doc, she had a true love of history and learning. Uncovering the hidden truths. But she will balance the worth of history against her life and depending on her outlook, she could very well set her life aside.
"History, glorious history. Lost, forgotten. Waiting to be revived."
History/backstory: Born to a Drow family complete with matron and all typical things, Zarriia had a good education in the ways of the world. Her family is very philosophical and thus she was raised to be a diplomat. Complete with the subterfuge (Thievery, spying, and backstabbing) of the Drow. She learned the Courtly Graces of manners as to not get her head lopped off by Drow Empresses of Priestess. Her mother, Quarriia was rather big on manners and being the best. It didn't help she has younger sisters looking to dispose of her to get closer to a spot as the next Matron for the family. However, not close to being the first born she enjoys traveling rather than sitting about and waiting for a dagger in the back. Her father, mated to her mother till his untimely death by a jealous lover fifty years ago, taught her sword, bow, and spear. Insisting that if she was to travel it would be needed. Leaving home to escape the scandal and out of comradely for her departed farther.
Now traveling for the sheer joy of new horizons and to uncover lost legacies along the way. Zarriia was stunned to learn exactly how hated the Drow were on Titan and so quickly learned a Titan accent, shrouding herself in robes in the more populated areas of Titan, taking the disguise of a scholar. On the road or in places were some thorny armor wouldn't go amiss she keeps the mask of her armor up to conceal her Drowish heritage. Zarriia spent the last fifty years exploring Titan and learning about this new and previously unknown land. But trouble struck when she was forced to leave town quickly after a bit too public brawl broke out in a tavern. Taking a ship, the Drow meant to head North. Intent on more exploration but her ship was caught in a freak storm of nature and tossed about viciously. Now washed up on a beach and thankfully with her weapons and armor intact, she looks upon the legendary Crator Island and prays to Lloth that the legends are worse than reality.
"My father's dead, my mother lies, my brothers die, and my sisters smile and stab each other while pretending family love. Typical Drow."
Ect: Basic Equipment: Short bow, quiver of Bodkin arrows (25). Drowish short sword, 10 drowish daggers |
44,753 | 1,217 | 17 | 1,305 | 1,314 | Quil silently complied with the Drow's commands, his mind on the ironwood wreck on the beach. The insignia on it was strangely familiar to him the way the dwarven emblem was. But he couldn't quite figure out where he had seen it or why it even mattered.
Because it symbolizes the civilization you desire to return to, the ellegant voice in his head declared.
Is that it? Is that the only reason why I think it's familiar somehow? Quil thought back. Normally, he would have spoken out aloud but he was in close proximity of the drow and he didn't want her to know of his unique situation. He dumped firewood into the pit that the drow had made and the rest into the dinghy. When the phoenix didn't answer, he thought to ask another question. Do you recognize the signs?
A haughty voice answered. I do not concern myself with mortal made symbols.
Quil sighed just as the drow's sharp voice cut through his thougts. "You have a affinity with fire. Something comes up, dump ale on them and set it on fire." He looked towards the barrel filled with dwarven ale and shrugged his shoulder. He was never really fond of dwarven ale anyway. "As you wish," was all he said.
He paused as he quickly reassessed his situation. A drow that would no doubt kill him if she wanted. A phoenix that offered her help but at the same time probably wanted nothing more than to see him dead so she can be free. The leader of the Academy that sent him to the island under the pretense of a scientific mission but in truth wanted him dead. An island that shows no mercy and brought death upon anyone unlucky enough to set foot on its shores. Everything seemed to point to death. Wonderful, he thought sullenly.
Surviving may greatly depend on working together with his dark skinned kin. "My name is Aquilan. May I know yours?" he asked in a polite tone of voice. | Name: Aquilan Reluvethel
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2
Age: 415
Race: Elf
Birth Continent: Titan
Description:
Quil appears to be like any other male elf. He has fair complexion, regal stature, a heart shaped face with an aristocratic nose and of course, pointed ears that are characteristic of his race. But what sets him apart from the whole elven population is his red eyes and red streaked black hair.
He wears a black dragon scale armor hidden beneath a blood red cloak.
Personality:
Quil is reserved and quiet. He prefers to keep to himself and avoid interaction with other people be it humans, dwarves or elves. He rarely smiles and can be described as stoic and emotionless. Due to what he had gone through in his early years and due to losing his family, he had learned that he only has himself to depend on. And because of this, he is hard to trust others as he also doesn't expect people to trust him. When spoken to, he would answer as briefly as possible or not at all.
History/Backstory:
Quil is the last descendant of the long line of Reluvethel elves, a race of elves that has exceptionally potent healing capabilities and elemental affinity. These elves were commonly employed as healers or as enhancers. Enhancers are elves who harness the elements to help with agriculture, industry and the Academies.
Quil used to look like most Reluvethel elves when he was younger. His hair had been pure black and his eyes had been clear blue. What changed his appearance was an event that would unfold at a later age.
At an early age, Quil had manifested excellent affinity with fire and had several times attracted a rare phoenix to himself while he had been training with his father in the woods. Lafarallin Lathlaerin, the head of Elswin Academy of Magic, had witnessed this and formed a hypothesis in his head. He convinced Kelvhan Reluvethel, Quil's father, to have his son sent to the Academy for study and to be able to hone his elemental skills that he may be an Enhancer when he comes of age.
With Kelvhan's consent, Quil was sent to Elswin and progressed steadily under the tutelage of Lafarallin. But the older elf had something else in mind. His true intention was to fuse the phoenix to the elf, in the hopes of granting the young elf a greater power. His reasons for this was unknown but Quil would later conclude that Lafarallin had interest in politics and that he was one of the old elf's experiment to further his own ambitions.
Eventually, Lafarallin's hypothesis proved true. He was successful in fusing the elf with the phoenix but not without consequences. Quil's appearance changed. His veins, filled with flame from the creature, gave him a more potent healing ability and greater control over fire. But with this enhancement, he became unstable mentally. The creature had not fused with him as Lafarallin had thought. It was as different entity and it was not pleased in being trapped in another's body. Quil could hear its thoughts, he could feel its anger, its frustration. He could feel it trying to get out, trying to find a way to separate itself from the elf. The constant struggle for control took its toll and eventually made his enhanced abilities unstable. In a moment of weakness, Quil unleashed a wave of flame so strong that he managed to burn down most of Lafarallin's associates. Lafarallin soon ordered Quil be imprisoned in a cell built under the Academy. Fearing that his experiment would be discovered, he commissioned assassins to annihilate all Reluvethel elves.
Centuries imprisoned with only four walls as company gave Quil more than enough time to meditate and he soon found peace with the creature inside of him. The old elf Lafarallin eventually passed away leaving his son, Thalandil, to continue his studies. Thalandil took a chance and released Quil experimentally into society. Exposed to people so suddenly, Quil bordered on instability again. And so before he could wreak havoc, Thalandil decided to send Quil to Crator Island with the order to find out everything he can about its secrets in exchange for his freedom. Crator Island would be the perfect place to exile Quil. If Quil manages to succeed, then it would bring glory to the Academy, Thalandil and his father's name forever immortalized in history. But if Quil perished in the island, then it would just benefit the Academy to be rid of an experiment the King had no knowledge of.
The transport was perilous as the waters near the island roiled and bubbled in fury. The ship carrying Quil was tossed around until it was almost capsized. The ships crew, afraid for their lives, tossed Quil into the unforgiving water and left him to fare for his own. Dragged down into the dark blue depths, Quil surrendered himself to the darkness.
But he found himself washed up on the beach of the very island he was ordered to explore.
Etc: Quil's only weapon is a plain sword he would later temper and imbue with fire. |
44,754 | 1,217 | 18 | 842 | 79 | The sky was absent of clouds as the sun was perhaps two hours away from being directly overhead. Time passed quickly as they scavenged the beach, work no doubt distracting the two elves from the horrid thoughts of death… well, perhaps distracting Aquilan. The fire pit took a while to make as Zarriia had to cut away pieces of the floor so that the wood beneath the fire would not catch flame and burn their shelter to the ground. The sand beneath offered the mound required to stack against the wooden floor. The slight slant to the floor offered an open view of this fire pit to the beach, though not a single ship had washed ashore or passed by during their time so far. As Zarriia filled the firepit with wood and situated the inside of the ship so that they could use it as a shelter, Aquilan would take note of just how desperate his situation was. He had worked to stack the driftwood and planks in the boat to block the other entrance as the drow had previously instructed, making only one entrance to this ship in which a fire pit had been erected near. The deck had a large grated door which would be opened when cargo would be loaded, meaning that the smoke would not be trapped within the hull. This shelter seemed to be quite perfect, however there was a new feeling that overtook both of the elves just as Zarriia would respond to Aquilian’s request for her name. A feeling that something was watching them. | Character Name: (first and last.)
Gender:
Height:
Age:
Race:
Birth continent: (Avalon or Titan.)
Description: (Pictures work as well.)
Personality:
History/backstory:
Ect:
Modify and send to me as you see fit! |
44,755 | 1,217 | 19 | 1,319 | 1,807 | The sun was yet rising, the day was young and filled with possibilities. Zarriia looked at the imposing cliff side and frowned with a puzzled expression. "My name is Aquilan. May I know yours?" The words broke her concentration upon the dunes of sand and the many scraps of boats. They would need better shelter, a steady source of food. And various other things. Glancing back at the elf, her face looking rather young and blankly open for a small second before her eyes sharpened and her lips twitched down in a frown.
What good would her name do them? But then again it was a civil thing. She grumbled a Drowish curse, turning back to look at the dunes. Stalking off across the dunes. "Zarriia Ma'doc." Not looking for a reply she walked, taking note of ships and dismissing fire wood. Looking for more supplies and weapons. Or access to more ships, or other little cubbies hidden amongst the dunes of the beach. | Character Name: Zarriia Ma'doc
Gender: Female
Height: Five foot six inches
Age: 200
Race: Drow
Birth continent: Avalon
Description: A sleek Drow. her skin is ashen grey with golden yellow eyes that would remind one of a bird of prey or some great cat. Her silver hair often is pulled back in a braid and coiled into a bun. With the typical build of a female Drow, narrow hips, thin waist. Slim and lethal. She keeps her chest bound by a corset. For her armor she wears a light mixture of metal and plate. A dark cloak with a deep hood to conceal her from watching eyes. She wears several pouches and small bags for trinkets on her belt.
"I must look my best, not to impress but to define. That beauty is best served deadly."
Personality: A diplomat, and survivalist. She will do what she must to survive, but she understands the need for respect to gods and other beings. Namely those of a greater and more lethal power than herself. She will avoid trouble if she can, as a survivalist, but if there is a good pay out Zarria will risk it. She also will not get involve in another's problems, less there is some pay out. But as a Ma'doc, she had a true love of history and learning. Uncovering the hidden truths. But she will balance the worth of history against her life and depending on her outlook, she could very well set her life aside.
"History, glorious history. Lost, forgotten. Waiting to be revived."
History/backstory: Born to a Drow family complete with matron and all typical things, Zarriia had a good education in the ways of the world. Her family is very philosophical and thus she was raised to be a diplomat. Complete with the subterfuge (Thievery, spying, and backstabbing) of the Drow. She learned the Courtly Graces of manners as to not get her head lopped off by Drow Empresses of Priestess. Her mother, Quarriia was rather big on manners and being the best. It didn't help she has younger sisters looking to dispose of her to get closer to a spot as the next Matron for the family. However, not close to being the first born she enjoys traveling rather than sitting about and waiting for a dagger in the back. Her father, mated to her mother till his untimely death by a jealous lover fifty years ago, taught her sword, bow, and spear. Insisting that if she was to travel it would be needed. Leaving home to escape the scandal and out of comradely for her departed farther.
Now traveling for the sheer joy of new horizons and to uncover lost legacies along the way. Zarriia was stunned to learn exactly how hated the Drow were on Titan and so quickly learned a Titan accent, shrouding herself in robes in the more populated areas of Titan, taking the disguise of a scholar. On the road or in places were some thorny armor wouldn't go amiss she keeps the mask of her armor up to conceal her Drowish heritage. Zarriia spent the last fifty years exploring Titan and learning about this new and previously unknown land. But trouble struck when she was forced to leave town quickly after a bit too public brawl broke out in a tavern. Taking a ship, the Drow meant to head North. Intent on more exploration but her ship was caught in a freak storm of nature and tossed about viciously. Now washed up on a beach and thankfully with her weapons and armor intact, she looks upon the legendary Crator Island and prays to Lloth that the legends are worse than reality.
"My father's dead, my mother lies, my brothers die, and my sisters smile and stab each other while pretending family love. Typical Drow."
Ect: Basic Equipment: Short bow, quiver of Bodkin arrows (25). Drowish short sword, 10 drowish daggers |
44,756 | 1,217 | 20 | 1,305 | 1,314 | Zarriia Ma'doc. Quil repeated the name in his head to remember. He would have said something else but an overwhelming feeling of someone... or something watching them made him stop. He looked around, his sharp, crimson eyes scouring the area for any sign of life or danger. Sand, the sea, the wreckages, the cliff... Nothing had changed. Nothing was there. Nothing moved.
What do you know of this island, Lady? I am sure you have far greater knowledge than both the Drow and I, he asked silently, hoping that the phoenix would have some sort of information that could help.
I have little knowledge about this island as it is not a place I would venture out to. My kind avoid it at all costs, came her reply.
"Another dead end," he mumbled to himself as he tried to shake off that uneasy feeling. He continued looking around, his right hand on the hilt of his sword, ready for combat if the situation called for it.
I would advise that you be wary. Your feeling is not without cause. | Name: Aquilan Reluvethel
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2
Age: 415
Race: Elf
Birth Continent: Titan
Description:
Quil appears to be like any other male elf. He has fair complexion, regal stature, a heart shaped face with an aristocratic nose and of course, pointed ears that are characteristic of his race. But what sets him apart from the whole elven population is his red eyes and red streaked black hair.
He wears a black dragon scale armor hidden beneath a blood red cloak.
Personality:
Quil is reserved and quiet. He prefers to keep to himself and avoid interaction with other people be it humans, dwarves or elves. He rarely smiles and can be described as stoic and emotionless. Due to what he had gone through in his early years and due to losing his family, he had learned that he only has himself to depend on. And because of this, he is hard to trust others as he also doesn't expect people to trust him. When spoken to, he would answer as briefly as possible or not at all.
History/Backstory:
Quil is the last descendant of the long line of Reluvethel elves, a race of elves that has exceptionally potent healing capabilities and elemental affinity. These elves were commonly employed as healers or as enhancers. Enhancers are elves who harness the elements to help with agriculture, industry and the Academies.
Quil used to look like most Reluvethel elves when he was younger. His hair had been pure black and his eyes had been clear blue. What changed his appearance was an event that would unfold at a later age.
At an early age, Quil had manifested excellent affinity with fire and had several times attracted a rare phoenix to himself while he had been training with his father in the woods. Lafarallin Lathlaerin, the head of Elswin Academy of Magic, had witnessed this and formed a hypothesis in his head. He convinced Kelvhan Reluvethel, Quil's father, to have his son sent to the Academy for study and to be able to hone his elemental skills that he may be an Enhancer when he comes of age.
With Kelvhan's consent, Quil was sent to Elswin and progressed steadily under the tutelage of Lafarallin. But the older elf had something else in mind. His true intention was to fuse the phoenix to the elf, in the hopes of granting the young elf a greater power. His reasons for this was unknown but Quil would later conclude that Lafarallin had interest in politics and that he was one of the old elf's experiment to further his own ambitions.
Eventually, Lafarallin's hypothesis proved true. He was successful in fusing the elf with the phoenix but not without consequences. Quil's appearance changed. His veins, filled with flame from the creature, gave him a more potent healing ability and greater control over fire. But with this enhancement, he became unstable mentally. The creature had not fused with him as Lafarallin had thought. It was as different entity and it was not pleased in being trapped in another's body. Quil could hear its thoughts, he could feel its anger, its frustration. He could feel it trying to get out, trying to find a way to separate itself from the elf. The constant struggle for control took its toll and eventually made his enhanced abilities unstable. In a moment of weakness, Quil unleashed a wave of flame so strong that he managed to burn down most of Lafarallin's associates. Lafarallin soon ordered Quil be imprisoned in a cell built under the Academy. Fearing that his experiment would be discovered, he commissioned assassins to annihilate all Reluvethel elves.
Centuries imprisoned with only four walls as company gave Quil more than enough time to meditate and he soon found peace with the creature inside of him. The old elf Lafarallin eventually passed away leaving his son, Thalandil, to continue his studies. Thalandil took a chance and released Quil experimentally into society. Exposed to people so suddenly, Quil bordered on instability again. And so before he could wreak havoc, Thalandil decided to send Quil to Crator Island with the order to find out everything he can about its secrets in exchange for his freedom. Crator Island would be the perfect place to exile Quil. If Quil manages to succeed, then it would bring glory to the Academy, Thalandil and his father's name forever immortalized in history. But if Quil perished in the island, then it would just benefit the Academy to be rid of an experiment the King had no knowledge of.
The transport was perilous as the waters near the island roiled and bubbled in fury. The ship carrying Quil was tossed around until it was almost capsized. The ships crew, afraid for their lives, tossed Quil into the unforgiving water and left him to fare for his own. Dragged down into the dark blue depths, Quil surrendered himself to the darkness.
But he found himself washed up on the beach of the very island he was ordered to explore.
Etc: Quil's only weapon is a plain sword he would later temper and imbue with fire. |
44,757 | 1,218 | 0 | 2,780 | 43 | Breaking News:
"Hello and Good Morning Unova, I'm Arnold Gloom bringing you this breaking story from Nimbasa City as a group of Arceus fanatics are surrounding the theme parks here preventing hundreds of customers from leaving the park. While the situation has remained civil up to this point there are worries that Pokemon may be sent out and attacks may start flying." The new anchor pauses for a moment before adding
"What are the thinking of this back home Tom?" he asks
There is a brief silence before the second anchor responds
"We are are in shock here Arny, it's very disturbing that a group such as theirs is able to shut down a theme park and even more so that the police are doing nothing to fix this." He chuckles slightly before continuing
"I suppose its hard to get a large response when the most they can do is shut down the Mr.Mime Merry-go-round, Haha.
The backdrop changes to the Pokemon Language pattern and the League theme plays
"In other news Joey is set to battle Cameron for a shot at taking on the Elite 4 and I know we are all just very excited for this bout aren't we? | Name: Perry Cain
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Small ranch on route 39 in east Jhoto
Height: 5'7
Description: Attempting to compensate for his modest height with defined muscle mass he maintains great levels of physical fitness and self grooming. His skin tone resembles the unique caramel tanned skin of Hoenn natives yet without the distinct luster that would characterized by and islander. He keeps a shaved head only every allowing minor fuzz to grow before having it buzzed off. His eyes are a deep deep brown that can be mistaken for total blackness when viewed indoors, but in the light of day the color shines forth and a pleasant brown hue takes the place of the darkness. His eyebrows are his most identifying feature, being moderately bushy but being styled in a way that allows them to accentuate the face. His hands are rough from countless hours of yard work, leaving a contestant look of tiredness to him. Being a naturally anxious person his fingernails are almost always nubs from constant chewing. His voice is a mid pitch with a slight southern twang to it
History:
Born on a small ranch in rural Johto to a poor farming couple. His early years were very exhausting, tending to the Miltank, Tauros and Ponyta from the time he could walk. Forced to learn the respect the power that pokemon had at a young age he grew to love them and gained a deep interest into just how strong they could get when pushed and trained properly. He help breed battling Tauros in his formative years however he wasn't much for breeding. Being an only child to very busy parents he had little company except for the pokemon he helped raise only to sell to larger ranches to help aid his parents financial problems.
When he turned 16 he set off and his journey, determined to make a name for himself and make enough to give his parents a better life. Leaving with a nothing but a new born Tauros and a few potions he returned a year later with a Slowpoke, a badge and an empty wallet. Inexperience and bad luck plagued his journey as failure to win enough battles to keep himself well fed ended his campaign early. Returning home ashamed he devoted himself to becoming stronger and assuring that the next time he left home would be the last time he left home. During His time at home his parents were forced to sell a majority of their ranch leaving only a few dozen pokemon to profit from.
He considered joining the Heonn Navy to help makes ends meet, but a apathetic view of water types and the sea in general stopped him. It wasn't until he caught a Spearow the had been plaguing his live stock that he found his new goal. He had decided he would become a flying type expert, so he studied and he began to train. He prepared to join the Unovan Air Force where he would be taught the best possible techniques to work with flying types. He left his Tauros and Slowpoke at home to help his parents in any way they could while he was away. Here at the beginning of his 19th year he intends to set off and face this world, beginning his journey with a trip to Unova
Pokemon:
Spearow |
44,758 | 1,218 | 1 | 1,191 | 9 | Ethros Arcio
I'm finally out of the forest..
Stumbling a bit, Ethros dropped down and sat just on the edge of Viridian forest. Slowly turning, he nudged Dart as he laid down. Ethros reached into his bag and grabbed a few berries and threw them in front of Dart.
"Finally out of the house and the first thing we want to do is sit down. How in the world are we going to get anywhere.
Dart made a small whimper and they both smirked at each other. Ethros picked up a stick and threw it a few feet in front of Dart. Dart looked over expectantly at him, and tilted his head. Ethros crawled over and grabbed it with his mouth and crawled back. He nodded in an exaggerated fashion and once again threw the stick. Dart barked with an excited tone and grabbed the stick. Ethros laughed a bit and stood up.
"Alright, alright. Now that we've trained a bit, let's head towards Pewter town."
They took two steps forward when 3 wild Ratatta's came charging at the two of them. Dart without thinking jumped in front of Ethros and began to growl angrily.
Looks like we're in for a rough day after all... | Name: Ethros Arcio
Age:20
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Viridian City
Height: 6'0"
Description: His rugged brown hair often droops over his oddly smooth face when he's not brushing it off to the sides. For this reason, he's taken to wearing a red beanie with a pokeball on it. It looks very worn out but it seems to really pull his hair together. His eyes are a deep brown and seem to always be visible even in dim lighting. The clothing he wears usually is very comfortable yet stylish.
He isn't what one would consider built, but he has enough muscle definition to be just between skinny and muscular. His voice is a very soft, and often people have difficulty getting his tone down correctly through hearing him speak alone.
History: The history of the Arcio family is one of success through hard work. Back when the pokeball was invented 2000+ years ago, the family first settled near the Viridian forest area and began to harvest the lumber from the trees. After 10 generations of success, the family began to gain a lot of influence within the Kanto region. They became known as the most promising source of money for the area, and with it's lumber, essentially helped expand the Kanto and Jhoto regions buildings single handedly.
The family became very well known and started it's own business "Viridian Lumber Co." It's symbol of a caterpie and weedle are on almost every building within the two regions. From this success, the family got very intermingled with the small council. It was from that point on that they always had someone on both the Jhoto and Kanto small council to influence major decisions within the regions.
After Arceus came down 100 years ago, Ethros' grandfather was present in the region on business and witnessed the event. He promptly converted the family and business to worshiping Arceus. He immediately cast out the previous family name (Ethos doesn't konw what this name was to this day) and dubbed the family "Arcio" to show his patronage tothe pokemon god. This created a massive rift in the Jhoto and Kanto regions, as they didn't see eye to eye on the new wave religion of the Shinnoh region.
Ethos' father was very strict when he took control of the business. He wanted to really make his father proud, and as such was very cold and calculating with the business decisions. The main goals of Ethros' father in his ownership (ongoing) are to change the brand from caterpie and weedle to Arceus and to expand the lumber exports to the Shinnoh region.
As a young boy, Ethros was always groomed to become the next owner of the lumber company. As an only child, his father was very strict on him while his mother was very comforting. He would have servants doing most of his chores but disliked it after seeing how a few of his friends were able to cloth and feed themselves.
At the age of 18, his father brought him a growlithe he obtained while on business. He told him that it would represent the fire in his heart to expand the company and family name. Ethros found comfort in his new friend, and the two quickly became very attached. He decided on the name Dart because he ran faster than any pokemon in the area.
While with his father on a business trip, Ethros heard whispers of a pokemon named Rayquaza in the Hoenn region. His curiosity finally got the better of him and he decided he'd investigate what this pokemon was in comparison to Arceus. He lied to his father and told him he'd become a pokemon champion. His father thought it was a very good chance to spread fame for the family, so he allowed Ethros to leave.
When he turned 20, Ethros took off with Dart due north towards Pewter city to try and find his way to Hoenn.
Pokemon:
Growlithe - Nickname: Dart |
44,759 | 1,218 | 2 | 2,780 | 43 | Perry Cain
Perry shuts off the old television and heads outside, unconcerned with the activities of idiots half a world away. He steps outside into the fresh spring air admiring his families modest ranch for one last time, He would have almost been sad were in to for the profound sense of relief of finally getting to leave. Perry wished he could take his old trusty Tauros with him but his parents needed him far more than he did at this point, He crossed the field towards the beast while reminiscing about all the battles they won, and even more they lost.
"Now you take care on Mama and The Old Man while I'm away you understand?" He questioned while stroking the bulls head. The Tauros nodded in agreement as if it could understand.
"I'll miss you boy, I'll be back for y'all one day" he said motioning towards his former Slowpoke who was asleep as usual.
"Goodbye" he whispered.
With that he was off, trotting down route 39 towards Olivine City, The Port with Sea Breezes, as it is informally known. This particular path was about a 3 day walk, one he had made several times before but always atop his Tauros never on foot and he was not looking forward to it whatsoever. Perry decided to let his newly caught Spearow out for some well needed bonding time. Releasing the angry little bird from its capsule and motioning for it to come perch on his shoulder.
"C'mon now, It's about time we got a better feel for each other since were going to be traveling together for a while." he shouted trying his best to sound at least a little pleasant.
The Spearow was having nothing of it, Turing a full 180 and waddling down route 39 as Perry followed shouting sweet nothings and baseless compliments
"C'mon! pretty bird pretty bird, Who's a strong little bird?" he pleaded.
Suddenly inspiration struck, he just needs to get the fight out of him. Perry recalled his first encounter with this particular Spearow and how it fought for its independence so fiercly it battled his old slowpoke within an inch of its life.
"I got it" He shouted "You wanna battle huh? Battle, yeah!"
The Spearow looked slightly more attentive now, Perry scanned to surrounding brush and foliage for any signs of hidden Pokemon for this little monster to demolish. It wasn't long before they found a few feral Meowths and practiced their union as trainer and pokemon. | Name: Perry Cain
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Small ranch on route 39 in east Jhoto
Height: 5'7
Description: Attempting to compensate for his modest height with defined muscle mass he maintains great levels of physical fitness and self grooming. His skin tone resembles the unique caramel tanned skin of Hoenn natives yet without the distinct luster that would characterized by and islander. He keeps a shaved head only every allowing minor fuzz to grow before having it buzzed off. His eyes are a deep deep brown that can be mistaken for total blackness when viewed indoors, but in the light of day the color shines forth and a pleasant brown hue takes the place of the darkness. His eyebrows are his most identifying feature, being moderately bushy but being styled in a way that allows them to accentuate the face. His hands are rough from countless hours of yard work, leaving a contestant look of tiredness to him. Being a naturally anxious person his fingernails are almost always nubs from constant chewing. His voice is a mid pitch with a slight southern twang to it
History:
Born on a small ranch in rural Johto to a poor farming couple. His early years were very exhausting, tending to the Miltank, Tauros and Ponyta from the time he could walk. Forced to learn the respect the power that pokemon had at a young age he grew to love them and gained a deep interest into just how strong they could get when pushed and trained properly. He help breed battling Tauros in his formative years however he wasn't much for breeding. Being an only child to very busy parents he had little company except for the pokemon he helped raise only to sell to larger ranches to help aid his parents financial problems.
When he turned 16 he set off and his journey, determined to make a name for himself and make enough to give his parents a better life. Leaving with a nothing but a new born Tauros and a few potions he returned a year later with a Slowpoke, a badge and an empty wallet. Inexperience and bad luck plagued his journey as failure to win enough battles to keep himself well fed ended his campaign early. Returning home ashamed he devoted himself to becoming stronger and assuring that the next time he left home would be the last time he left home. During His time at home his parents were forced to sell a majority of their ranch leaving only a few dozen pokemon to profit from.
He considered joining the Heonn Navy to help makes ends meet, but a apathetic view of water types and the sea in general stopped him. It wasn't until he caught a Spearow the had been plaguing his live stock that he found his new goal. He had decided he would become a flying type expert, so he studied and he began to train. He prepared to join the Unovan Air Force where he would be taught the best possible techniques to work with flying types. He left his Tauros and Slowpoke at home to help his parents in any way they could while he was away. Here at the beginning of his 19th year he intends to set off and face this world, beginning his journey with a trip to Unova
Pokemon:
Spearow |
44,760 | 1,218 | 3 | 2,483 | 4,789 | Gene pulled his bicycle over to the side of the road and changed the station on his radio, his Butterfree landing on a nearby tree. From his home on the outskirts of Azalea town he had pedaled north on Route 34. Normally he would have headed south, but he'd already seen that part of the country. Once he found a better station, something with upbeat music playing, he called out. "He Free-free, come on." His little sister had named the pokemon, and he had kept the name. He started pedaling again and after a few minor battles they were inside the city.
"Ok," he said, parking his bike near the department store. "I'm going to have to put you back in your ball while I go inside. I'm going to need to sale some of these Apricorn balls if I'm going to have money to survive on. Don't worry, though. I've got the stuff to make more if I can find some wild Apricorns. I won't run out any time soon, and I'll bring you some lemonade when I come out."
"Free" said the insect as it was turned into red energy and absorbed into the ball.
Inside he found the man behind the counter. "Hi, Joe." he said. Joe came by the farm at least a couple of times per season to by Apricorn balls from his father.
"Hey, Gene. I didn't think you would be up this way. Did you come to bring me a shipment?"
"No, I decided to set off on my own and need some money." He set several balls on the table. "How much will you give me for these?" After settling on a price, Gene took the money and went up to the roof. He bought a few drinks and went back downstairs and outside.
He released Free-free and his Rattata and gave them each a lemonade. "As soon as you're done we'll head to the park and beat up a few wild bugs. I want the two of you to get stronger if we're going to be traveling." | Name: Gene Green
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Johto
Height: 5'8"
Description: He wants to learn whatever he can, and is often found with a book or two in his backpack. Working the plants from a young age, he has grown fairly strong physically, but he prefers to work with his mind. As a farmer, though, a formal education wasn't possible, so he learned to read from his mothers teachings and reads whatever books he can get his hands on.
He often wears his overalls when he leaves the farm, such as when he has to head into the city for supplies or when making deliveries. His bicycle is quite old and often breaks down, but he still prefers to ride it as opposed to walking, as it's much faster.
History: He grew up on a farm, learning to tend the berry and apricorn bushes from a young age. his only contact with other children was his siblings and the children in town when he got to go. When he was 12, however, his father decided to introduce him to the real money maker on the farm, apricorn balls.
He learned to make pokeballs from the apricorns they grew, getting almost as good as his father. Several years ago, while gathering more apricorns to turn into balls and sale, he found a caterpie eating the leafs on one of the bushes. He decided to try out one of the balls he had made on it, and it was caught. After that he took it with him whenever he went to check the bushes and, if he found something, he would use the Caterpie to knock it out. He even kept using it while it was metapod, and it turned into a butterfree. After that he stopped putting it back into its ball every time it was done fighting an enemy.
A few days ago he decided that he was too old to keep living at home and told his family he was going to leave. They told him to take what berries and apricorn balls he needed and wished him well. When he went to check the berry stores in the cellar, however, he found a rattata eating them. Knowing that he would need more than one pokemon if he was to survive, he caught it as well. He left the next day and headed for the nearest city.
Pokemon: Butterfree Lvl 12 (just learned poison powder)
Rattata (Lvl 2) |
44,761 | 1,218 | 4 | 1,860 | 875 | Urrrggghhh, Amos groaned as he stretched his arms over his head. The pair of Kricketot he had been watching jumped, startled by the sound. The xylophone-like chirps of their antennae filled the air as they scampered of into the brush. He leafed through the pages of his notebook, a neat but unorganized tangle of observations. There were a few crude sketches thrown in, but they were barely recognizable. He was still working on his drawing."That's definitely enough about those things," he said aloud to no one in particular.
He slowly got up from where he seated beneath a large sprawling tree and shook some feeling back into his legs. He'd been sitting there for three hours now, moving only to scribble an occasional note. A light breeze picked up, but it gave him enough of a chill to bring his hoodie out of his pack and pull it on over his black tank, leaving it unzipped. He frowned, noticing the bits of leaves that had clung to the hoodie and the dirt smudged on it in areas. He then pulled a Pokeball out of his pack, smiling warmly as he did so.
"All right, I'm done. Come on out and take a look around, Bliss!"
In a flash of light, the Aipom emerged from. Free to explore, she swiftly made her way up the tree and disappeared into it to explore its branches. Amos looked off to the north, absent-mindedly rubbing at his back. He was sure Floraroma Town wasn't too much farther ahead; he felt he could see it off in the distance.
When he had set out from home, he had quickly realized aimless wandering and research would get him nowhere so he set out to find Professor Rowan and request a position as a field researcher. He had all his old notebooks and reports as well his new notebooks. Unfortunately, his initial trip to Sandgem Town hadn't worked out as Professor Rowan was away in Eterna City.
Rather than wait around, he'd decided to take off and try and meet him in Eterna City or at least find him along the road. His trip through Jubilife City had been quick, as he didn't want to risk running into family and being teased mercilessly for returning so quickly. This had left him a little less prepared for the road to Eterna. Then there was the day he got stuck on the Ravaged Path after a rockfall blocked his path. He had battled and taken more notes on Zubats than he ever cared to see again by the time another trainer came around and had his Geodude clear the path. He was nearing Floaroma, and already he was running out of food -- if you could even call it "food". He was desperate to reach civilization again.
The Aipom scampered down the tree once more and climbed up his back, settling comfortably on top of his head. Amos laughed and pulled out a pair of berries form his hoodie pocket, handing it to his Pokemon. "Well, let's get going. I think we might be able to make it to town before nightfall." Bliss nodded agreeably as she devoured the berries. | Name: Amos Bergstrom
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Jubilife City, Sinnoh
Height: 6'1"
Description:
Amos is taller than most his age, in fact taller than many he meets in general. He has a form made up of lean muscle. His light skin coupled with the comfortable life he's lived gives his face a rounder and younger look which he tries to offset by keeping some maintained stubble on his face. He's topped by blonde hair. He's never had the patience to deal with styling hair so he keeps it cut neat and up. He has clear green eyes. His face usually shows one of two expressions, a focused observation, or a self-satisfied smirk.
He dresses casually in most situations. A henley and jeans, or a tank and shorts. He has a bright green zip up hoodie he often wears as well in the chilly weather of Sinnoh. For special occasions involving dressing up he likes to really stand out.
History:
born, early years,
Amos has never lacked for anything he's wanted in life. He was the third child in a wealthy family and so had an easy childhood. His mother is the head of an international shipping company, a company that was started by her grandfather in his later years. She married a triathlete and Pokemon trainer of average means. Growing up, Amos and his brother and sister would often join their father in his training and grew to love the competition. While Helena and Max were being trained to one day run the business, Amos was never quite interested. His attention was drawn to Pokemon instead. Strange creatures that were part of life, he found them fascinating. He would often travel with his mother to Canalave City to oversee some operations. He loved the trips. The journey there would give him the chance to occasionally spot a wild Pokemon. Sometimes if he was lucky he could spot some swimming around in the harbor. Sure, the Meowth his neighbor had was nice, but these were real Pokemon out in the wild.
At age 15 he decided he wanted to study Pokemon. They interested him, and stories of people like Professor Oak and Professor Rowan fascinated him. They studied Pokemon and used their knowledge to help humanity further their technology, and also to just help people coexist with Pokemon better. Of course his supportive parents, set him up with access to a superb education there in Jubilife, supplemented by what extra materials he occasionally came across in the Canalave Library. However, despite the vast stores of knowledge and talented teachers available to him, he found himself distracted. Time he could have used to study, he instead spent chasing girls or lounging around. Sure, he wanted to learn about Pokemon, but he wanted to actually see them in the wild. Eventually he gave up and announced his intention to travel the world. While his family was disappointed as they didn't see any practical use for exploring and studying wild Pokemon, they were more or less supportive. He paid a good price for a Pokemon egg and eventually hatched an Aipom of his very own. The two have set off together to see the world and the Pokemon in it. Amos hopes to learn what he can, then one day share it with the world. While his siblings did't expect him to last one week outside the city, it's been a month now. That's not to say he's gotten used to it.
Pokemon:
Aipom |
44,762 | 1,218 | 5 | 2,780 | 43 | Perry Cain
The road to Olivine City was long and testing, though it had only been two and a half days Perry was already beat. Having to start this journey with a new Pokemon he wasn't familiar with made everything harder, the fact that the little devil seemed to have nothing but contempt for him didn't help much. The Spearow was a fine battler however, Perry kept a tally of all the wild Pokemon it would attack and chase away. 13 so far, if he had the money for food or pokeballs he would have caught one of them. Alas he'd need to win some battles for that and as fierce as Spearow was it looked almost as drained as Perry did.
Perry turned to the creature and said "I see you're tired bud." Scooping up the foul little thing in his hand. It tensed up quickly but relaxed greatly at the thought of not having to walk for itself any longer.
"I don't see why you don't fly, you are the strangest thing. It's a long road all the way back home to get Tauros from Momma, and an even longer road until you evolve and I can ride on you like some kind of elite trainer." He chuckled "But its only an hour or so to the city where we can rest up and get you healed so cheer up man."
He tossed the bird into the air where it took flight for the first time since he captured it, doing circles above Perry's head. He felt rather safe here in the wilderness with his Spearow pulling guard duty. He pondered what it would be like to ride on a Fearows back, He'd seen one before on the news and in his lessons but never in person and never to scale.
"I hope you get big enough to actually ride on bud" He worried looking up at his little gaurdian.
They made there way into Olivine city a bustling port city full of sailors and traders and the occasional Hoenn Navy Seaman althought he paid them little mind. Finding a bed was most important, having dropped off goods from the ranch here maybe a hundred times he knew some people that would cut him a real nice deal. | Name: Perry Cain
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Small ranch on route 39 in east Jhoto
Height: 5'7
Description: Attempting to compensate for his modest height with defined muscle mass he maintains great levels of physical fitness and self grooming. His skin tone resembles the unique caramel tanned skin of Hoenn natives yet without the distinct luster that would characterized by and islander. He keeps a shaved head only every allowing minor fuzz to grow before having it buzzed off. His eyes are a deep deep brown that can be mistaken for total blackness when viewed indoors, but in the light of day the color shines forth and a pleasant brown hue takes the place of the darkness. His eyebrows are his most identifying feature, being moderately bushy but being styled in a way that allows them to accentuate the face. His hands are rough from countless hours of yard work, leaving a contestant look of tiredness to him. Being a naturally anxious person his fingernails are almost always nubs from constant chewing. His voice is a mid pitch with a slight southern twang to it
History:
Born on a small ranch in rural Johto to a poor farming couple. His early years were very exhausting, tending to the Miltank, Tauros and Ponyta from the time he could walk. Forced to learn the respect the power that pokemon had at a young age he grew to love them and gained a deep interest into just how strong they could get when pushed and trained properly. He help breed battling Tauros in his formative years however he wasn't much for breeding. Being an only child to very busy parents he had little company except for the pokemon he helped raise only to sell to larger ranches to help aid his parents financial problems.
When he turned 16 he set off and his journey, determined to make a name for himself and make enough to give his parents a better life. Leaving with a nothing but a new born Tauros and a few potions he returned a year later with a Slowpoke, a badge and an empty wallet. Inexperience and bad luck plagued his journey as failure to win enough battles to keep himself well fed ended his campaign early. Returning home ashamed he devoted himself to becoming stronger and assuring that the next time he left home would be the last time he left home. During His time at home his parents were forced to sell a majority of their ranch leaving only a few dozen pokemon to profit from.
He considered joining the Heonn Navy to help makes ends meet, but a apathetic view of water types and the sea in general stopped him. It wasn't until he caught a Spearow the had been plaguing his live stock that he found his new goal. He had decided he would become a flying type expert, so he studied and he began to train. He prepared to join the Unovan Air Force where he would be taught the best possible techniques to work with flying types. He left his Tauros and Slowpoke at home to help his parents in any way they could while he was away. Here at the beginning of his 19th year he intends to set off and face this world, beginning his journey with a trip to Unova
Pokemon:
Spearow |
44,763 | 1,218 | 6 | 1,191 | 9 | Ethros Arcio
"I have no idea what to do!"
Ethros saw the Rattata's quickly approaching. He panicked and quickly dove at Dart, which took him completely by surprise. He yelped and Ethros quickly ran past the charging pokemon with Dart in hand. The quickly scratched at his legs and began to rip his pants.
Ethros' foot caught a rock and he fell forwards, scraping his fact and arms. He quickly turned to face what should have been three very angry Ratatta's, but instead saw Dart holding his ground growling. The Ratatta's quickly approached and overwhelmed the young pokemon, sending it into a panicked flailing.
"H-hold on.. Dart..." is all Ethros could manage to say as he slowly stood and began to limp over to the battle. Suddenly a small shooting noise was heard and one of the Ratatta's was wrapped in a fine string. Ethros quickly spun around to see a young boy and a Caterpie ready to fight.
The boy cheered, "You know what to do!" and his Caterpie shot a small poison stinger out of it's body. One of the Ratatta's got hit and the others fled.
Ethros slowly moved to Dart and picked him up. After gently brushing his head, he turned to the young boy.
"I owe you, friend. What is your na-"
"Nah, you're fine, mister. Just don't go into the wilderness if you're that weak. Bye!" The boy skipped off with his Caterpie right behind him.
Ethros looked down in shame. Then he realized he should hurry to the Pewter city pokecenter if he wanted to get Dart back on his feet. He quickly pulled what left of his strength he had together and rushed off into Pewter city. | Name: Ethros Arcio
Age:20
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Viridian City
Height: 6'0"
Description: His rugged brown hair often droops over his oddly smooth face when he's not brushing it off to the sides. For this reason, he's taken to wearing a red beanie with a pokeball on it. It looks very worn out but it seems to really pull his hair together. His eyes are a deep brown and seem to always be visible even in dim lighting. The clothing he wears usually is very comfortable yet stylish.
He isn't what one would consider built, but he has enough muscle definition to be just between skinny and muscular. His voice is a very soft, and often people have difficulty getting his tone down correctly through hearing him speak alone.
History: The history of the Arcio family is one of success through hard work. Back when the pokeball was invented 2000+ years ago, the family first settled near the Viridian forest area and began to harvest the lumber from the trees. After 10 generations of success, the family began to gain a lot of influence within the Kanto region. They became known as the most promising source of money for the area, and with it's lumber, essentially helped expand the Kanto and Jhoto regions buildings single handedly.
The family became very well known and started it's own business "Viridian Lumber Co." It's symbol of a caterpie and weedle are on almost every building within the two regions. From this success, the family got very intermingled with the small council. It was from that point on that they always had someone on both the Jhoto and Kanto small council to influence major decisions within the regions.
After Arceus came down 100 years ago, Ethros' grandfather was present in the region on business and witnessed the event. He promptly converted the family and business to worshiping Arceus. He immediately cast out the previous family name (Ethos doesn't konw what this name was to this day) and dubbed the family "Arcio" to show his patronage tothe pokemon god. This created a massive rift in the Jhoto and Kanto regions, as they didn't see eye to eye on the new wave religion of the Shinnoh region.
Ethos' father was very strict when he took control of the business. He wanted to really make his father proud, and as such was very cold and calculating with the business decisions. The main goals of Ethros' father in his ownership (ongoing) are to change the brand from caterpie and weedle to Arceus and to expand the lumber exports to the Shinnoh region.
As a young boy, Ethros was always groomed to become the next owner of the lumber company. As an only child, his father was very strict on him while his mother was very comforting. He would have servants doing most of his chores but disliked it after seeing how a few of his friends were able to cloth and feed themselves.
At the age of 18, his father brought him a growlithe he obtained while on business. He told him that it would represent the fire in his heart to expand the company and family name. Ethros found comfort in his new friend, and the two quickly became very attached. He decided on the name Dart because he ran faster than any pokemon in the area.
While with his father on a business trip, Ethros heard whispers of a pokemon named Rayquaza in the Hoenn region. His curiosity finally got the better of him and he decided he'd investigate what this pokemon was in comparison to Arceus. He lied to his father and told him he'd become a pokemon champion. His father thought it was a very good chance to spread fame for the family, so he allowed Ethros to leave.
When he turned 20, Ethros took off with Dart due north towards Pewter city to try and find his way to Hoenn.
Pokemon:
Growlithe - Nickname: Dart |
44,764 | 1,218 | 7 | 2,483 | 4,789 | Gene stood outside the tall grass. It was too thick to see very far into it, but ever once in a while he'd see part of one of the pokemon hidden there. "Ok, Ratatta," he said when an unsuspecting bug got near the edge of the grass and stopped. "Go tackle that Weedle and then run back here." He hated using a tactic like that, but Ratatta was too weak to survive a normal fight. "When he runs away, I want you to use poison powder on it." he said to Free-free. "Ready, go."
Ratatta ran into the grass and jumped, landing on the weedle. Once it was down, Ratatta turned to run, but Weedle got up and hit it with a poison sting. Ratatta managed to escape, however, and Free-free flew in to dust it with poison powder. That was apparently all that was needed, as the weedle soon fell over, unconscious.
Gene picked up Ratatta and realized that it was getting weaker. "Come on, girl" he said, "I'll take you to the pokemon center and get you patched up." He set Ratatta down and put it back in its ball, then raced back to the pokemon center as fast as he could go.
"Oh, no," the nurse said. "Your Ratatta's passed out. Don't worry, though, I can fix it." She placed both of the balls on the machine and soon they were both back to full health. "Thank you, come again." said the nurse.
"I'm going to have to train you harder," Gene said to Ratatta. "I can't afford to send you to the daycare, but I'll make you a deal. You get strong, and we defeat those trainers in the park, and I'll buy you another lemonade. We'll even take a boat to Olivine instead of walking there. "Sound good?" Both of them looked excited. | Name: Gene Green
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Johto
Height: 5'8"
Description: He wants to learn whatever he can, and is often found with a book or two in his backpack. Working the plants from a young age, he has grown fairly strong physically, but he prefers to work with his mind. As a farmer, though, a formal education wasn't possible, so he learned to read from his mothers teachings and reads whatever books he can get his hands on.
He often wears his overalls when he leaves the farm, such as when he has to head into the city for supplies or when making deliveries. His bicycle is quite old and often breaks down, but he still prefers to ride it as opposed to walking, as it's much faster.
History: He grew up on a farm, learning to tend the berry and apricorn bushes from a young age. his only contact with other children was his siblings and the children in town when he got to go. When he was 12, however, his father decided to introduce him to the real money maker on the farm, apricorn balls.
He learned to make pokeballs from the apricorns they grew, getting almost as good as his father. Several years ago, while gathering more apricorns to turn into balls and sale, he found a caterpie eating the leafs on one of the bushes. He decided to try out one of the balls he had made on it, and it was caught. After that he took it with him whenever he went to check the bushes and, if he found something, he would use the Caterpie to knock it out. He even kept using it while it was metapod, and it turned into a butterfree. After that he stopped putting it back into its ball every time it was done fighting an enemy.
A few days ago he decided that he was too old to keep living at home and told his family he was going to leave. They told him to take what berries and apricorn balls he needed and wished him well. When he went to check the berry stores in the cellar, however, he found a rattata eating them. Knowing that he would need more than one pokemon if he was to survive, he caught it as well. He left the next day and headed for the nearest city.
Pokemon: Butterfree Lvl 12 (just learned poison powder)
Rattata (Lvl 2) |
44,765 | 1,218 | 8 | 2,780 | 43 | Perry Cain
Perry sat on the beach enjoying the gentle sounds of the waves crashing on shore, it was a nice change of pace having spent the past 4 days in Olivine. The next ship leaving for Castelia city in Unova would not depart for another 4 leaving him very restless. He spent most of the day trying to bond with and train his Spearow. The hustle and bustle of the port city had long lost excitement in his eyes having spent so much time here in his youth. He hated the ocean, it was to vast and intimidating. Due to this he wasn't to fond of water Pokemon either save for Slowpoke, Its dopey little smile had charmed him. He dug his feet into the sand and watched a group of Krabby scuttle into the water.
"Vile little crustations aren't they Spearow? Go mess with them." He commanded as a grin grew across his face.
Spearow cooed in agreement as it took flight and swooped down upon the Krabby is the back of the formation by the wrists and flew it up into the air. It took the struggling crab about 20 meters into the air before dropping it into the water and returning to Perry.
"You enjoy doing that don't you ya sadistic litt-"
He was cut off before he could finish by a startling high pitched voice coming from behind him back on the boardwalk.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Shouted the kid. His tone was belligerent making his question sound more like a accusation.
Perry already knew how this was going to play out, He could see by the kids clothes he was a new trainer. New shoes yet to have been worn in and only one pokeball on his hip, obviously a newbie trying to take a stand for honor and justice or whatever misguided ideals he thought he was defending. He stared at his his childlike features, pale skin with a round face with lingering baby fat and bad hair cut. This lead him to believe that he must only be about 16 years of age. "Just having some fun kid, what about it?" He asked in his best condescending tone as he stood to face the boy and alerted his Spearow of the approaching challenger.
"You should leave those poor Krabby alone! If you're not going to properly capture or battle them then was the point of torturing the poor things?!" The boy sounded distraught and kept pacing forward standing now only 10 meters away from Perry.
Perry contemplated getting the first attack in before the boy could send out his Pokemon, Not to harm him just to put some fear into his heart. He was hesitant however, What if this kid had a rich daddy who bought him a Voltorb or Pikachu. No, he wouldn't be intimidated by a kid who obviously needed to be put in his place. He wished her had his Tauros and Slowpoke as they were battle tested and hardened, but Spearow hadn't lost a battle yet and Perry had confidence in him.
"You got a problem here kid? Lets have a quick one on one and see who the hell you think you are!" he shouted casting his arm pointing towards the boy in his best attempt to look intimidating. Spearow followed suit and hoped and front of Perry, spreading its wing and letting out a fearsome "Caaaaaaaw". Perry had never been more proud of the little bird than at this moment.
The boy flinched at the sound of the birds screech and his hand immediately flew to the pokeball on his hip pulling it off instantly. This worried Perry, back when he was a newbie it once took him a good 15 seconds to get a pokeball from its holster.
"If that is what must be done then so be it!" The boy said releasing a medium sized Squitrle onto the sand.
"Oh what the fuck" Perry thought to himself "This must be some preppy little turd that got his starter from a Professor in Kanto".
Perry wasn't sure how badly he had fucked up. Realizing now that the kid had more than likely bought the new shoes with his battle winnings. But he wasn't about to let some punk come into his region and start telling him how to treat stupid Krabbys. He could win this but he would need to make the first move.
"Spearow use Fury Attack" Perry commanded.
The bird took off like a dart towards it opponent flying in very tight circles around it, jabbing it with its beak at every opening it saw.
"Bubbles use Water Gun and head for water" The boy cried.
"Bubbles..." Thought Perry "No way I can lose to this chump"
The Squirtle fired a stream of water from its mouth knocking Spearow out of the air and made an all out dash for the water kickng up lots of sand onto the grounded Spearow.
"Don't let it get away!" Perry commanded worried that if this battle moved to the water he would surely lose.
Spearow shook off the sand and closed in fast but just as it came within talons reach the turtle spun around and landed a well placed Bite. Feathers flew as Spearow struggle to free itself form the Squirles clutches. | Name: Perry Cain
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Small ranch on route 39 in east Jhoto
Height: 5'7
Description: Attempting to compensate for his modest height with defined muscle mass he maintains great levels of physical fitness and self grooming. His skin tone resembles the unique caramel tanned skin of Hoenn natives yet without the distinct luster that would characterized by and islander. He keeps a shaved head only every allowing minor fuzz to grow before having it buzzed off. His eyes are a deep deep brown that can be mistaken for total blackness when viewed indoors, but in the light of day the color shines forth and a pleasant brown hue takes the place of the darkness. His eyebrows are his most identifying feature, being moderately bushy but being styled in a way that allows them to accentuate the face. His hands are rough from countless hours of yard work, leaving a contestant look of tiredness to him. Being a naturally anxious person his fingernails are almost always nubs from constant chewing. His voice is a mid pitch with a slight southern twang to it
History:
Born on a small ranch in rural Johto to a poor farming couple. His early years were very exhausting, tending to the Miltank, Tauros and Ponyta from the time he could walk. Forced to learn the respect the power that pokemon had at a young age he grew to love them and gained a deep interest into just how strong they could get when pushed and trained properly. He help breed battling Tauros in his formative years however he wasn't much for breeding. Being an only child to very busy parents he had little company except for the pokemon he helped raise only to sell to larger ranches to help aid his parents financial problems.
When he turned 16 he set off and his journey, determined to make a name for himself and make enough to give his parents a better life. Leaving with a nothing but a new born Tauros and a few potions he returned a year later with a Slowpoke, a badge and an empty wallet. Inexperience and bad luck plagued his journey as failure to win enough battles to keep himself well fed ended his campaign early. Returning home ashamed he devoted himself to becoming stronger and assuring that the next time he left home would be the last time he left home. During His time at home his parents were forced to sell a majority of their ranch leaving only a few dozen pokemon to profit from.
He considered joining the Heonn Navy to help makes ends meet, but a apathetic view of water types and the sea in general stopped him. It wasn't until he caught a Spearow the had been plaguing his live stock that he found his new goal. He had decided he would become a flying type expert, so he studied and he began to train. He prepared to join the Unovan Air Force where he would be taught the best possible techniques to work with flying types. He left his Tauros and Slowpoke at home to help his parents in any way they could while he was away. Here at the beginning of his 19th year he intends to set off and face this world, beginning his journey with a trip to Unova
Pokemon:
Spearow |
44,766 | 1,218 | 9 | 1,860 | 875 | Amos trudged along, a sour expression on his face. The rain that had begun about an hour earlier was beginning to die down. While he typically enjoyed big storms and rainy days, getting caught out in the rain so close to town was not helping his already tired mood. Not that it was a heavy rain. In fact it was a light drizzle. The first few minutes had been pleasant, but at this point towards Amos felt thoroughly soaked. He made a mental note to buy himself a rain jacket at the first opportunity. His hoodie was just not going to cut it.
He gave a light sigh in relief as the sun came out from behind the clouds once more, its golden light making him squint a bit until he grew used to it again. He pulled off his hoodie as the wet material was starting to get uncomfortable. He used the balled up jacket to wipe the excess water off his face, hair, arms and legs, then stopped to stuff it in one of the pockets of his backpack. He released Bliss form her pokeball once more, having recalled her halfway through the rainshower. The Pokemon cartwheeled around on her feet and tail, enjoying the fresh feeling of the outdoors after the rain.
As they got closer to the city, more Pokemon emerged from hiding to bask in the sun once more. Amos passed a tree with a Starly chirping loudly. As he moved on he kept passing trees each with their own individual Starly, its harsh singing straining his ears. He kept walking, always finding another Starly singing just as he got far enough from one to not hear it.
"I swear it's the same one following us. It just needs to shut up..." he muttered to Bliss.
As if on cue, a Starly in a tree ahead of them launched into a shrill song. It only served to irritate Amos further. He was tired, hungry, wet, and now this bird wouldn't shut up. He groaned. "Just shut up!" he yelled at the bird. The Starly raised its head indignatly, "RRRRRRLLEEEEE."
"I said SHUT. UP. Stop. making. noise. please."
"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" it cried defiantly, flying out of the tree and dangerously close to his face.
"Bliss. Let's practice our battling."
The Aipom stopped it's frolicking and quickly ran between Amos and the Starly. The Starly angrily Growled, causing Aipom to shrink away a bit.
"Go, use Astonish!"
Bliss's characteristic smile disappeared and she jumped at the Starly. A black haze appeared around her and red angry face on her tail, as it spun around to hit the Starly. The Starly however remained unfazed and moved out of the way of the attack, countering with its own Quick Attack and knocking Aipom back to the ground. She rolled on the ground but stood up quickly.
"Shit..." Amos muttered, realizing he had forgotten the typing of the attack in his mood. "Bliss, a sand attack! See if we can get it to stop flying around!"
The Aipom nodded and kicked up sand with her tail, only to be struck by another quick attack from above before she could hit the Starly. Following the attack that had piled some sand behind her, she once again tossed in the Starly's direction. This time it successfully hit the bird's eyes. Unfortunately that was because the wild Pokemon had been in the middle of another Quick Attack which landed immediately afterward. Bliss fell back again as the Starly flew around wildly in its blindness, rather than come down to the ground and Amos had hoped.
"Quick, while it can't see! A tail whip followed up by a scratch."
The Aipom jumped at the Starly, turning to hit the Starly with its tail hand, followed by a scratch with its arms. It landed beneath the Starly and moved out of the way as it attempted another Quick Attack.
"Try that again, Bliss! Sand Attack!"
Bliss swept up further sand, getting a bit more on the Starly's eyes. At a command, she exceuted a Scratch attack with her tail, managing to knock the Starly to the ground. It countered with a Tackle, making to take off again.
"Another Scratch attack! Keep it on the ground."
The Aipom rushed forward, but was too slow and missed as the Starly took flight once more. It then turned around and hit with another Tackle.
"Come on, another Scratch!"
Aipom made to attack, but was clearly tired. She was unable to jump high enough to reach the Starly, which used another Quick Attack as soon as she landed.
"All right, all right! Keep singing if you want I don't care anymore!" Amos suddenly shouted. He ran up waving his arms above his head trying to shoo off the Starly. It directed a Quick Attack right at his head then flew around a bit trilling triumphantly once more before flying off.
Amos kneeled next to Aipom who had dusted herself off and was now sitting and breathing heavily. She showed a few visible injuries. "Sorry girl, I thought we were ready for that," he said as he put his hand and head. "You did great though. I'll get us the rest of the way to Floaroma, get you healed, and we can treat ourselves to some good food." He held up the Pokeball and recalled his Aipom in a burst of red light, then stood up. He began walking towards town, the first building already coming into view. The songs of the Starly making his mood even worse. He didn't even care to notice that one of them seemed a bit off in color. | Name: Amos Bergstrom
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Jubilife City, Sinnoh
Height: 6'1"
Description:
Amos is taller than most his age, in fact taller than many he meets in general. He has a form made up of lean muscle. His light skin coupled with the comfortable life he's lived gives his face a rounder and younger look which he tries to offset by keeping some maintained stubble on his face. He's topped by blonde hair. He's never had the patience to deal with styling hair so he keeps it cut neat and up. He has clear green eyes. His face usually shows one of two expressions, a focused observation, or a self-satisfied smirk.
He dresses casually in most situations. A henley and jeans, or a tank and shorts. He has a bright green zip up hoodie he often wears as well in the chilly weather of Sinnoh. For special occasions involving dressing up he likes to really stand out.
History:
born, early years,
Amos has never lacked for anything he's wanted in life. He was the third child in a wealthy family and so had an easy childhood. His mother is the head of an international shipping company, a company that was started by her grandfather in his later years. She married a triathlete and Pokemon trainer of average means. Growing up, Amos and his brother and sister would often join their father in his training and grew to love the competition. While Helena and Max were being trained to one day run the business, Amos was never quite interested. His attention was drawn to Pokemon instead. Strange creatures that were part of life, he found them fascinating. He would often travel with his mother to Canalave City to oversee some operations. He loved the trips. The journey there would give him the chance to occasionally spot a wild Pokemon. Sometimes if he was lucky he could spot some swimming around in the harbor. Sure, the Meowth his neighbor had was nice, but these were real Pokemon out in the wild.
At age 15 he decided he wanted to study Pokemon. They interested him, and stories of people like Professor Oak and Professor Rowan fascinated him. They studied Pokemon and used their knowledge to help humanity further their technology, and also to just help people coexist with Pokemon better. Of course his supportive parents, set him up with access to a superb education there in Jubilife, supplemented by what extra materials he occasionally came across in the Canalave Library. However, despite the vast stores of knowledge and talented teachers available to him, he found himself distracted. Time he could have used to study, he instead spent chasing girls or lounging around. Sure, he wanted to learn about Pokemon, but he wanted to actually see them in the wild. Eventually he gave up and announced his intention to travel the world. While his family was disappointed as they didn't see any practical use for exploring and studying wild Pokemon, they were more or less supportive. He paid a good price for a Pokemon egg and eventually hatched an Aipom of his very own. The two have set off together to see the world and the Pokemon in it. Amos hopes to learn what he can, then one day share it with the world. While his siblings did't expect him to last one week outside the city, it's been a month now. That's not to say he's gotten used to it.
Pokemon:
Aipom |
44,767 | 1,218 | 10 | 1,191 | 9 | Ethros Arcio
Ethros patiently waited in the pokemon center for Dart to come out. He started to get impatient, and thus started to throw some rocks onto the ground and watching how they bounced. As more and more time went on, his throws got more and more intense. Eventually, after about 3 hours, he threw one so hard that it straight up bounced and hit a person right in the back.
"O-oh god I'm so sorry!" Ethros murmured as he approached this mysterious figure. The figure turned and gave this look of such condensation that Ethros had almost thought he was looking at his own father. Noticing the mood, the cloaked man quickly put on a very forced smile and placed on hand on Ethros' shoulder.
"Hello, child. Have you seen the light of Arceus?" The mans voice revealed a sort of practiced tone, something that it would appear he was being forced to say. Ethros took a step back, letting the man's arm fall.
"I'm of the Arcio family, so I think I know a thing or two.." He kept a guarded stance. A few people walked passed and gave a very odd glance to the man. Some even seemed to be annoyed without having heard anything of the conversation.
"Ah, yes. Your father is a huge help in spreading the love of Arceus in the Kanto and Jhoto region!" His smile quickly converted from a forced one to a genuine one. It would appear that for the first time since the conversation started, he was relaxed and actually pleased with the things he was saying.
Suddenly a rock was hurled at the cloak, but it wasn't quite on the mark as the cloaked man was able to dodge. "No one needs your damned god pokemon. Get out of here!" A crowd began to gather behind the man who threw the rock, and none of them looked very happy.
Ethros quickly turned to see that Dart was jumping up and down, happy. He quickly took this opportunity to get away. He walked in and the nurse let Dart run to him.
"Take your pokemon and get out. We don't need anything from you or your cloaked buddy." The nurse said through a glare. Ethros quickly ran out with Dart behind him. The cloaked man was no where to be seen but the small crowd outside was still there. Without looking back he ran towards Mount Moon.
After he distanced himself from the city, he rested with Dart.
"It would appear our name isn't the safest thing to be spreading. Maybe we'll choose a new name.. like.. Rowlithe. We're now the Rowlithe family if anyone asks, ok? I know dad thinks we're training.. but that was some creepy stuff. Dart barked in agreement.
"I guess we'll have to try and make our way around the world. But first... Mount Moon.. | Name: Ethros Arcio
Age:20
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Viridian City
Height: 6'0"
Description: His rugged brown hair often droops over his oddly smooth face when he's not brushing it off to the sides. For this reason, he's taken to wearing a red beanie with a pokeball on it. It looks very worn out but it seems to really pull his hair together. His eyes are a deep brown and seem to always be visible even in dim lighting. The clothing he wears usually is very comfortable yet stylish.
He isn't what one would consider built, but he has enough muscle definition to be just between skinny and muscular. His voice is a very soft, and often people have difficulty getting his tone down correctly through hearing him speak alone.
History: The history of the Arcio family is one of success through hard work. Back when the pokeball was invented 2000+ years ago, the family first settled near the Viridian forest area and began to harvest the lumber from the trees. After 10 generations of success, the family began to gain a lot of influence within the Kanto region. They became known as the most promising source of money for the area, and with it's lumber, essentially helped expand the Kanto and Jhoto regions buildings single handedly.
The family became very well known and started it's own business "Viridian Lumber Co." It's symbol of a caterpie and weedle are on almost every building within the two regions. From this success, the family got very intermingled with the small council. It was from that point on that they always had someone on both the Jhoto and Kanto small council to influence major decisions within the regions.
After Arceus came down 100 years ago, Ethros' grandfather was present in the region on business and witnessed the event. He promptly converted the family and business to worshiping Arceus. He immediately cast out the previous family name (Ethos doesn't konw what this name was to this day) and dubbed the family "Arcio" to show his patronage tothe pokemon god. This created a massive rift in the Jhoto and Kanto regions, as they didn't see eye to eye on the new wave religion of the Shinnoh region.
Ethos' father was very strict when he took control of the business. He wanted to really make his father proud, and as such was very cold and calculating with the business decisions. The main goals of Ethros' father in his ownership (ongoing) are to change the brand from caterpie and weedle to Arceus and to expand the lumber exports to the Shinnoh region.
As a young boy, Ethros was always groomed to become the next owner of the lumber company. As an only child, his father was very strict on him while his mother was very comforting. He would have servants doing most of his chores but disliked it after seeing how a few of his friends were able to cloth and feed themselves.
At the age of 18, his father brought him a growlithe he obtained while on business. He told him that it would represent the fire in his heart to expand the company and family name. Ethros found comfort in his new friend, and the two quickly became very attached. He decided on the name Dart because he ran faster than any pokemon in the area.
While with his father on a business trip, Ethros heard whispers of a pokemon named Rayquaza in the Hoenn region. His curiosity finally got the better of him and he decided he'd investigate what this pokemon was in comparison to Arceus. He lied to his father and told him he'd become a pokemon champion. His father thought it was a very good chance to spread fame for the family, so he allowed Ethros to leave.
When he turned 20, Ethros took off with Dart due north towards Pewter city to try and find his way to Hoenn.
Pokemon:
Growlithe - Nickname: Dart |
44,768 | 1,218 | 11 | 1,860 | 875 | Amos sighed with satisfaction, setting down the fork and placing his napkin on the empty plate in front of him. Now THAT had been a meal. He sat back in his chair looking around the fine restaurant he currently sat in. The tables and chairs were all of solid wood, and the table cloths of some nice material. He didn't know much about fabrics. Off through an archway he could see the lobby of the inn.
Upon arriving in Eterna City, he had made a bee-line for the Pokemon Center. His next was planned to be the inn as he was desperate for a meal and bath. Upon checking in, however, he had caught word that Professor Rowan was leaving town that day. There was even talk of him travelling to the Kanto region. Panicked, he had run about town searching for the senior researcher. A helpful man in white robes had kindly directed him to a local statue to the edge of town. Upon finding him, Amos stopped short.
The professor was much more intimidating in person than expected. Fortunately, after some talk of his situation and offering up his journals and reports from his time at school, Professor Rowan had opened up. He was actually a kind man and very understanding. However due to his busy schedule in the coming months, he wasn't sure how to work with the young man.
Luckily for Amos, a solution had been reached. He was to travel to the Unova region and research a pair of bug Pokemon Professor Rowan had heard about. Apparently, they evolved by interacting with each other and no other Pokemon. Professor Rowan was intrigued, bt could not check it out himself. As such, Amos's main objective was to observe these Pokemon and take observations both before and after evolution, as well as of the process itself. Along the way, he could learn to manage himself in the outdoors better and observe some Pokemon completely new to him.
He stretched then checked his watch. It had been a long day, and he still hadn't had that bath he sorely needed. He paid for his meal and went upstairs to his room, excited for the adventure ahead. | Name: Amos Bergstrom
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Place of birth: Jubilife City, Sinnoh
Height: 6'1"
Description:
Amos is taller than most his age, in fact taller than many he meets in general. He has a form made up of lean muscle. His light skin coupled with the comfortable life he's lived gives his face a rounder and younger look which he tries to offset by keeping some maintained stubble on his face. He's topped by blonde hair. He's never had the patience to deal with styling hair so he keeps it cut neat and up. He has clear green eyes. His face usually shows one of two expressions, a focused observation, or a self-satisfied smirk.
He dresses casually in most situations. A henley and jeans, or a tank and shorts. He has a bright green zip up hoodie he often wears as well in the chilly weather of Sinnoh. For special occasions involving dressing up he likes to really stand out.
History:
born, early years,
Amos has never lacked for anything he's wanted in life. He was the third child in a wealthy family and so had an easy childhood. His mother is the head of an international shipping company, a company that was started by her grandfather in his later years. She married a triathlete and Pokemon trainer of average means. Growing up, Amos and his brother and sister would often join their father in his training and grew to love the competition. While Helena and Max were being trained to one day run the business, Amos was never quite interested. His attention was drawn to Pokemon instead. Strange creatures that were part of life, he found them fascinating. He would often travel with his mother to Canalave City to oversee some operations. He loved the trips. The journey there would give him the chance to occasionally spot a wild Pokemon. Sometimes if he was lucky he could spot some swimming around in the harbor. Sure, the Meowth his neighbor had was nice, but these were real Pokemon out in the wild.
At age 15 he decided he wanted to study Pokemon. They interested him, and stories of people like Professor Oak and Professor Rowan fascinated him. They studied Pokemon and used their knowledge to help humanity further their technology, and also to just help people coexist with Pokemon better. Of course his supportive parents, set him up with access to a superb education there in Jubilife, supplemented by what extra materials he occasionally came across in the Canalave Library. However, despite the vast stores of knowledge and talented teachers available to him, he found himself distracted. Time he could have used to study, he instead spent chasing girls or lounging around. Sure, he wanted to learn about Pokemon, but he wanted to actually see them in the wild. Eventually he gave up and announced his intention to travel the world. While his family was disappointed as they didn't see any practical use for exploring and studying wild Pokemon, they were more or less supportive. He paid a good price for a Pokemon egg and eventually hatched an Aipom of his very own. The two have set off together to see the world and the Pokemon in it. Amos hopes to learn what he can, then one day share it with the world. While his siblings did't expect him to last one week outside the city, it's been a month now. That's not to say he's gotten used to it.
Pokemon:
Aipom |
44,769 | 1,219 | 0 | 2,648 | 292 | Sun is rising. As it rises above the clouds it casts its rays upon a great city of white stone, laden with hues of silver and gold. This is capital to Silvercliff, arguably mightiest of kingdoms upon the world of Sophitia, land touched by the gods. The city springs into life after another peaceful night, people run businesses and errands across this huge capital, and while they walk the streets their eyes linger on one colossal building in particular, anywhere else that building would be a temple or the kings palace, here it is the "Arcane bastion" home to order of knights known across Sophitia as saviors and peace keepers.
On top of Arcane bastions highest watchtower stands an large man in even larger suit of armor. armor of blue hue and gentle glow. This man is Edward the kind, grandmaster of arcane knights order. He watches the city wake, smiling under his visor. He is genuinely glad that so many people get to live in harmony, safe from the horrors his order battles valiantly against most every day. As his gaze washes over palace of the king, he has trouble upkeeping his smile. Every week more letters arrive on Edwards desk, letters with sweet words that hide quite dark political threats and undertones. Just because you happen to live in peace and prosperity you make something up to fight it, thats what Edward thinks of politics. If this place was like the outer villages, constantly under threat of raids by monstrous hordes, he doubts they would have had the time to create this vile art of hiding hostility under kind words.
Suddenly his affinity flares up and he senses magic, it seems the one he called here has arrived, he cannot be seen but his presence is clear to Edwards honed magical sense.
"It took you two whole years to tell me the whole story, of why you came here?"
Behind him an sudden swirl of sand reveals the robed figure of Hastuk the unseen.
"... I would have waited longer still. Telling you anything on the matter is risking vile blasphemy against the mighty Sand...
But it seems their plan is moving along faster than expected."
"You have found out something haven´t you?"
"Yes friend, and while it is a burden on my honor... I would request your assistance on the matter..."
For a while they discussed things upon that watchtower before Hastuk disappeared again in a billow of sand and Edward strode down the tower stairs. With determined, heavy steps he quickly traversed the distance into his workroom and pushed the heavy oak wood door open.
For a while he scribbled his message on a roll of parchment, it reads as follows:
"Esteemed knight of the order. I, Grand master Edward Lamillo beseech you (honor allowing) to drop whatever assignment or task you are currently working on. And make haste to war room where I will brief to you new urgent assignment of extreme importance."
Next he wrote down on a smaller piece, an list of names. New or older, all fine practitioners of magical arts and fine knights. Then he called for an dedicated messenger who served the order, even wearing their symbol on his uniform.
"Here lad! Find every knight listed on there and read to them out loud what is written on that scroll!"
"Ummm, you want me to present myself as I was you? They will make fun of me!"
"Damn it lad, you know I´m not good at all this management type of stuff! Read it how you will as long as every knight listed on there is here within a days time!!"
The messenger was now running for the door and practically glided down the hallways of Arcane bastion. Days time?! Crazy! Thats what the messenger thought as he knew that few of the names were currently out of capital. He would have to ride like Wind himself to get to them. | You are to become an initiate in the order of arcane knights!
Character sheet
Name:
Gender:
Race:
Age:
Title/Nickname:
Kingdom of birth: Where are you from? or are you an traveler born?
Worship: is your character an religious knight? If so, which god you elevate above the rest?
Appearance: what your character looks like? Pics allowed and even endorsed, no irl photos!
Magical affinity: 1-2 essences of magic that you feel most strongly drawn to. Magics cast from other essences are considerably weaker.
Skills: What is your character good at? put weapons and military training here if any.
Equipment: Tools to conquer an savage world. Put enchanted magitech here if you have any.
Favorite spells: Put some examples on How your character utilizes his affinities in combat.(You can always modify this later)
Character backround history: Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you came to join the order?
By my knighthood I swear: Just write "I SWEAR" in here to symbolize you agree to play nice with others and follow rulings set by GM. |
44,770 | 1,219 | 1 | 2,433 | 529 | One could hear a cracking sound as Khar smashed the head of an squire of the order on the pavement. He took a bite from the piece of chicken in his right hand while the squire moaned in pain.
"Stand up boy. If this would have been a real fight you would have been dead.", Khar had the reputation as one of the hardest trainers of the order. He never let his students catch a break or get away with failure. "In a few years you will thank me for that broken nose! Now get up!", the young squire stood up and cleaned the blood of his face with his hand. "That is the spirit! Now attack, this is no fun for both of us boy.", the only reason Khar trained squires was because he was ordered to. He hates to fight against opponents that were so much weaker than him, training against a knight however...
Just as he said that a courier ran in the trainingshall. "Sir, you are ordered to visit Grandmaster Edward!", the courier proclaimed and showed a document. Khar blocked the attack of his trainee and swiped his legs away, then he directed his attention to the courier. "And why is that errant boy? What does the Grandmaster want?", he slowly got closer to the courier and pierced him with his eyes. The courier tried to stutter something when Khar disrupted him with his laugh, "Dont worry errant boy, I will go see the old Edward immediately, you go search for the others."
Khar took his weapon and left. "Training is over for today." | Name: Khar
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 37
Title: The Marked Champion
Kingdom of birth: Born in Li Lian
Worship: Praying is for the weak. A man must fight his own battles.
Appearance:
Magical affinity: Khar's body is covered in Tattoos, always winding, always drawing themselves new. These Tattoos can however become reality, piercing, black like the night, out of his skin as whatever Khar desires.
Skills: Khar is an excellent fighter. He prefers bladed weapons from Li Lian. Through the years the one thing that kept him alive is his martial prowess and his magical tattoos, mostly the combination of these two. He might be middle-aged, but he still is in a peak physical condition. He also is incredibly skilled in unarmed combat, he might lack the grace of an Li Lian master but he makes up for it by being just as effective and twice as brutal.
Equipment: His Weapon, a few daggers, no armor. Armor is for the weak, slows one down.
Favorite spells: He likes to use his tattoos as chains, sprouting from his chest, trapping his enemy's. Also spikes and jaws in hand to hand combat.
Character background history: Born in Li Lian as the son to a silk farmer, Khar was unsatisfied. He joined a local gang in his youth. When he killed a son of some important feline folk he joined a mercenary company and left. He was 12 at that time. He learned to fight against monsters and warriors alike, earning his tattoos as payment for protecting a reclusive village. One day his company was hired to attack a small clan in the Jarl Tundra. The company got nearly completely wiped out by the surprisingly resilient clansmen. Khar was captured and the 18 year old was thrown in Guhraca, the infamous prison in the Tundra. For the next 14 years he fought for his live in the prison, becoming a champion in the pit fights and making an legend out of himself.
When he finally was set free as price for winning an battle royal he decided it was time to put his skills to use and search stronger fighters to train with. And who is stronger than the Knights?
By my knighthood I swear: I SWEAR BY THE ORDER! I WILL BREAK THEIR ENEMY'S! |
44,771 | 1,219 | 2 | 345 | 92 | On the porch of one of the city's numerous taverns, Quill sat with his feet up on the railing an his hands behind his head. Presently, he sung one of the few Silvercliff tales he'd picked up from bards outside of the city. Were he in a more mischievous mood, he might have instead sung an Al Zidoan hymn and see what sort of ruckus he could stir up. But then, the tavern catered mostly to Li Lian transients anyway, so he wouldn't have much luck.
He glanced down and saw a few coins had been tossed into his upturned hat. Charity was one of the things the city had going for it, all of the noble folk held onto their spare coin like a child would their greens. If he put effort into his songs and jests, Quill rarely had to worry about paying for a place to stay out of his own pocket. However, upon a second look, he saw that coins were not the only thing filling the cap, but amidst them as well was a small piece of parchment. Sitting up, he saw the figure of a page scurrying away, and figured the boy was in enough of a hurry to warrant not presenting whatever he needed to.
The letter was plain enough, more than likely a spare ready for such instances, but the message itself was far more interesting. Sir Edward himself requesting a gathering of knights? And the man had seen fit to list his name among them? Oh, happy day indeed! Quill all but sprung from his seat, a flurry of giggles as he emptied the coins in his hat onto the ground and plopped it upon his head. The Arcane Bastion was impossible to miss, and he made quick work of navigating the streets up to its grand base. He'd never met any others of the Order, or rather, the ones he'd met had been in passing, and either wrote him off as a jester, or simply never interacted. It was a pity, really, of all the patiences in Sophitia, he was so tempted to try the knights'.
So Quill resigned to wait for a while outside of the bastion, to sit down upon its great steps and sing once again. Beneath its sanctuary he felt free to sing just about any of the melodies he could remember, and given the amount of time he still had to pass, he ran through quite a few. From tundra cantors and mockeries of the Li Lian beast folk, to ballads of past Silvercliff kings and a few hushed blasphemes from the deeper crypts in Al Zidoa. So much history, all so intricate and elegant, all of the heroes and fools that filled stories upon stories. How quaint, he thought. How quaint.
And he waited. | Name: Quill
Gender: Up to speculation, often defaults to “he” but "she" is fairly frequent
Race: Beast
Age: Vaguely-Twenties
Title/Nickname: Jester Quill/Quill the Grin
Kingdom of birth: Even Quill doesn’t know the answer to this one. At some point he began to be passed off and off between various nomadic peoples. He’d gladly lie though, and say he’s from anywhere that suits him.
Worship: Quill purports to worship just about any god that suits the situation he’s in. He might praise one god for a joke, or blaspheme another to get a rise out of someone. Though he definitely believes they exist, he is not, personally, a big fan of any of them.
Appearance: Tall and thin, a wiry and feminine frame wrapped in a few layers of lean but practiced muscle. His hair is long and fluffy and fiery red, and two abnormally large hare-ears of the same color fall behind his head, a stark call to his bestial genes. His eyes are blue and icy, and it might be hard to stare at them for very long in the right light.
Though for the most part his clothes are light and flowing, two things Quill is never seen without are the overly-large-brimmed hat atop his head, and the grin that never seems to leave his face.
Magical affinity: Only Wind, but quite skilled with it.
Skills: For combat—Wind affinity, swift strikes, quick and agile.
Out of combat—Fairly good singer, silver-tongued, good storyteller
Equipment: Equipment: Quill’s weapon consists of two forms, a single-handed curved and notched blade, and a gnarled scythe. Often he wields the blade alone, and keeps the staff portion in its folded position at his side, but for the instances where he needs the extra reach, he can attach the blade to the end of the staff by its handle, locking it in place and extending the staff out into its full length. The wood, while scratched, neither splinters nor cracks, and the blade though weathered shows equal signs of integrity. Quill won’t say where he got the weapon, but it clearly isn’t his, its grim nature a contrast to his bright and jovial presented self.
Favorite spells: Presently, Quill’s affinity is used mostly for mobility. He tends to keep moving on the battlefield, preferring quick hit-and-run strikes and swift counters. Though he can to some extent deflect and/or propel objects with wind, most of his magical prowess is apparent in the mobility it offers.
Character background history: Quill is not fond of people, perhaps that’s why he’s a jester, –or was anyway– so that he could mock them openly without causing too much of a fuss. Born of the affair between a bestial and a human, Quill spent most of his early life transitioning from roaming group to roaming group, being raised by just about whoever could be arsed to do so until they grew tired of it, and shoved him along. He heard a lot of mockery for his appearance, and was called a “mutt” most places he went. In his early teens he spent a lot of time shadowing with gangs and street-clans.
Quill will never gives a straight or consistent answer as to how he learned to fight as he does. Though his stories often include being taught by a nomad called Sienne, sometimes they are a woman, others a man, sometimes a monster and sometimes a figment of his imagination. Whatever the case, everything between Quill’s earliest teenage years and the current time is a blur, and by now, Quill probably believes half the lies he tells about it anyway.
Whatever the case, his motives for joining the order are nearly as cloudy. He changes his answer a lot, but he’s more interested in what others’ reasons are, anyway. In fact, unless prompted, Quill seems to go out of his way to avoid being the topic of a conversation that doesn’t involve some kind of antic or another.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear To Enjoy This~ |
44,772 | 1,219 | 3 | 1,404 | 5,009 | Lao Xijer
The sound of smacking lips, burping, and slurping could be heard throughout the Lion Fist Eatery. The culprit could be found at a table to the left of the entrance. During this time of day, the eatery was full of people, this included the young boy claded in silver, red, and yellow armor. Lao ate here regularly, so the regulars and the waiters were used to sloppy eating. Unfortunately, for those who were entering for the first time, it was extremely annoying and a nauseating experience. If they glanced at Lao's table, there would be a sea of plates, some empty, picked clean, others, filled to the brim with hot food.
A waiter claded in all white walked up to Lao's table and picked up all the empty plates. With a smile she left, she made sure to be especially generous to Lao, he always payed the bills, although he was a bit shrewd when it came to giving tips. Lao barely looked up from his plate of rice, he was engrossed in his food. Biting into the warm and juicy chicken leg, drinking the cool juice, despite his age, he abstained from ale or any form of alcohol.
The waiter walked back once again, at least when Lao had finally finished all his food. "God, that was good." He burped, placed his forehead on the table. The waiter took his now empty plates, quickly put it back, and walked back up to Lao with a bill in her hand. Before Lao could pay, a courier burst in and ran up to Lao. "Sir, you are ordered to visit Grandmaster Edward!" he breathed as he showed him the document. "Oh my, this...this." He mumbled sarcastically before quickly jumping out of his seat and storming out the door in an attempt to escape paying the bill. Before the owner of the Eatery could run outside, Lao was long gone, he had somewhere to be at the moment. | Name:
Lao Xijer
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Age:
26
Title/Nickname:
Sir Metallum
Kingdom of birth:
Li Lian
Worship:
His family was a very religious family, as he grew up, he also learned about the gods. He and his family holds Vine above all else.
Magical affinity:
Metal
Lightning
Skills:
Metal Works- Lao grew up around a family of Metal workers. He loved it, the color of molten, the way he could mold it into anything he wanted. He followed his parents to work just so he could do it himself. His parents eventually allowed him to work with them, and he has had a few years of experience working with it. He has even had a chance to watch magitech being created.
Combat- After he was sent to school deeper into the ever folding lands of Li Lian. In this academy, he was thought Li Lian martial arts, and quickly become adept. He was also though swordsmanship, Li Lian swordsmanship training was different than other kingdoms. He expelled in this, and became third best swordsman in his class. But he really never enjoyed the fighting itself, he enjoyed the weapons that has used.
Battle Experience- During his time in this school, he had the opportunity to fight and hunt monsters.
Equipment:
Steel Plated Iron- He actually smithed this armor himself, under the supervision of his father. The arms and covered in yellow and blue cloth. The shoulder plate is claded in leather. This is a very durable piece of armor, and it actually has is signature somewhere on it.
Guangdao- Lao did not actually make this bit his father did. It was meant to be used for his own time in Military school, but he could never go. So when his son had the opportunity to go, his father have him the blade. Lao has kept the blade on the best condition that he could. Despite all that, he early uses this, he keeps it on his back almost all the time.
Chokutō: It had a black scabbard and matching hilt and is a larger size than a normal chokutō. It's been repeatedly shown to be very durable and able to cut through various materials. Lao forged this blade himself, and wears it on his waist, his signature his signature is somewhere on the scabbard.
Favorite spells:
If Lao is not using his Metal Affinity to craft of smith, he creates metal spikes and fires them and his enemies. If they lodge themselves in the enemy, once inside, bolts of electricity fire from within them. If the spikes don't, as they pass, bolts with still fire.
Character backround history:
On the surface, Lao comes off as a rather silly and lighthearted person, frequently engaging in comical behavior and retaining his oft-present grin even while making threats. He displays a childlike amusement for new situations whether or not they prove adverse or even potentially fatal, has a penchant for wandering off on his own only to collapse in the middle of a street. Even with all these idiosyncrasies, he is extremely personable and his particularly complimentary nature easily gains him the friendship and trust of those surrounding him.
Of course, these aspects belie the complex and determined young man underneath. On the reverse side of his frivolous nature is his considerable shrewdness, which makes him quite capable of reading people and situations. He is particularly observant, taking into consideration even the smallest details of his surroundings in order to better understand and deal with challenges and is not above using cheap tricks or questionable tactics to ensure his own survival. Being singularly ambitious, Lao also has a remarkably tenacious will that allows him to overcome virtually insurmountable obstacles and accept inhuman burdens for the sake of his ultimate goal. He has considerable pride that will not stand for having his humanity insulted or condemned by his enemies, but he is also capable of shelving his pride if it becomes something that will stand in the way of his objective.
Lao is very protective of his family and comrades, refusing to allow any harm to come to them and often deeming their safety more important than his own in spite of his own personal ambitions and goals. He has to be reminded several times that his own safety is something upon which many people depend and uses his loved ones as his primary motivation when all hope seems lost. As such, he becomes furious when observing those who willingly or remorselessly cast aside their own comrades or brethren and is sickened by the idea of superiors who reject their duty to those who trust them.
Lao was not born into the most noble of families. In fact, he was not born into a noble family. He was born into a smiting family, there money was modest, but nothing amazing. He loved working with metal, hour would watch his mother work, forming the metal into beautiful things. His mother and father were not born with an affinity, but Lao was. His parents saw this as an opportunity for him to become someone, so they sent him to the Li Lian Military Academy. He was thought many things and ended up graduating third in his class. It was not even a year after that he was sent to OAK, in all truth, he did not want to hunt beasts He would much rather tinkered than become a knight. But as he grew to learn of all the injustices in the world, the useless killing of all being in either world, he found a reason to become one.
By my knighthood I swear:
I SWEAR, ON DA SWORD OF KNIGHT HOOD AND WHATNOT!! |
44,773 | 1,219 | 4 | 2,372 | 423 | The morning heat was prevalent on the main roads, a nuisance that only made walking along the dusty, uneven path that much more uncomfortable. But to the lean, sandy-haired Knight that strode along the edges of the path to make room for the various carts of merchantmen and diplomats that came to and fro, it was but a refreshing, brisk walk of relaxation. Adolin Sinnet had been on the main road for about two-and-a-half days now ; before that, he had spent several months venturing through scraggly mountain passes and abandoned villages plagued with various beasts of darkness as he tended to business directed by the Order. A little heat is nothing compared to what he had already endured, so Adolin continued his cheerful pace, a small smile hidden by the slight shadow of his traveler's hood.
Within the hour, the Knight had finally made it to the grand gates of the Capitol, finding it to be completely packed with horses, carts, and people alike. Li Lian Beastmen could be seen interacting with Silvercliff merchants as they waited their turn to be approved into the city, and one could also spot out several robed strangers bearing the marks of Al Zidoan diplomats through the dense crowd. The Knight took his time as he politely pushed his way through the masses, though he had no trouble of doing so when the people around him recognize the insignia displayed on his polished arm band. One should know better than to hinder an Arcane Knight's way. Still, Adolin smiled genuinely at those who greeted him, giving small waves here and there as he reached the captain of the guard who stood stern and fierce while overseeing the entry process.
When the man saw Adolin approaching, a light of recognition flared within his hawk-like eyes. Turning a stoic face to the men manning the huge gates, he immediately barked an order for them to be open. As the monstrous machinery groaned to life, the captain turned back to Adolin and stepped forward with a salute.
"Sir! Glad to see you back and out of harm's way. The citizens of Silvercliff thank you for yours and the Order's service of keeping the populace safe."
Adolin grinned as he reached up and pulled down his traveler's hood, revealing his tanned, angular face. "Awh, c'mon now. No need for that. I'm just doing my job, as you are doing yours."
The captain nodded in response, his face still not showing any emotion even to the compliment. Adolin tried his hardest not to chuckle. Thankfully, the guard still had more to say. "Sir, a courier of the Arcane Knights came not too long ago. He came to instruct me to direct any of those within the Order coming back into the city, to meet up at war room for an obligatory meeting. He is the copy of the summons."
Intrigued, Adolin tilted his head as he grabbed the letter and read it to himself. The Knight perked his eyebrows, giving an amused whistle. "Well, this is surprising. There's no break for me, huh?" Adolin folded the parchment, tucking it between his belt as he saluted the captain. "Thank you for informing me, Captain. I shall be on my way then - keep up the good work."
Both men nodded respectfully at each other before Adolin made his way through the opened, grand gates of the Capitol.
So far, coming back home from his travels has proved to be more exciting than any of his journeys. | Name: Adolin Sinnet
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 25
Title/Nickname: Sir Sinnet ; Knight Sinnet ; The Radiant.
Kingdom of birth: Silvercliff.
Worship: N/A
Magical affinity: Sun and Stone
Skills:
As a man, Adolin is quite graceful with his tongue and can be charismatic or intimidating. He's naturally fit and lean, having the body of fighter. Though not considered as a scholar by any means, he is still quite logical and is a quick-thinker.
As a seasoned adventurer, Adolin has acquired quite a variety of skills that allows him to sustain for long periods of time in the wild. He's adept at hunting and gathering, knowing where to find beneficial herbs and how to locate sources of fresh water. He's quite disciplined due to having experienced true hunger and thirst during many of his travels, allowing him to have an increased physical endurance as he learned how to manage with low resources. He's mediocre at medicine, knowing only the basics of first aid and the simplest of antidotes and rely mostly on using his Sun affinity to heal minor wounds - he knows just enough for him to get by to the next city if he were caught in a dire situation.
As an Arcane Knight, Adolin is an experienced fighter and caster. To put it simply, he's fluid with the sword and shield, as well as being adept with most weapons and hand-to-hand combat, which allows him to be versatile and adaptive to any fighting scenarios. These are the skills that truly made him into a successful adventurer, as he had gone into the depths of the hellish unknown and somehow found his way back.
Equipment:
Adolin is garbed in a light, traveler's armor that consists of highly-durable leather and cotton, and is then accentuated with steel guards located on his sword-bearing shoulder, elbows, and knees. His armor is custom made, having hidden pockets and sewn-in pouches, as well as having a traveler's hood. He also carries around a small traveler's pack that contains the essentials for his journey, ranging from medicine to seasonings, to a firestarter kit. His signature weapon is his curved, combat sword in his left hand, and a light-weight steel shield on his right - both have been tempered to be utilized with magics.
Favorite spells:
His primary affinity of the Sun allows Adolin to super-heat his blade, creating a deadly weapon that will cut metal, like parchment. His shield, on the other hand, is tempered to hold the charges of the affinity, which then in turn is able to release it as a burst of light that can stun his enemies. In combat, his magic makes it seem like he is wielding the rays of the sun itself, thus had been given the nickname of Radiant.
With his secondary and weaker affinity of the Stone, it enhances him more passively by gaining him short bursts of strength and defense during combat, and allows him to manipulate small stones as projectiles, or cause very small quakes to disrupt his enemy.
Character backround history:
Nothing special could be sead about Adolin Sinnet ; in fact, his upbringing could be compared to any ordinary middle-class citizen living within Silvercliff. He is the son to Gavin and Erma Sinnet, a small-time blacksmith and a kind tailor respectively. They had lived in a small agricultural village that was on the outskirts of the Kingdom of Silvercliff, where the boy spend his childhood years growing up with a playful and rebellious streak. Though he never meant any harm and loved the villagers just as he would his own family, Adolin had become quite an infamous troublemaker and prankster as child.
He did not know it for a long time, but the reason for his recklessness was the cause of his boredom - in truth, he did not want to pick up the forge like his father wanted, or the sickle like his peers did. No, what he sought after was excitement. He wanted to see the world, to feel the thrill that he knew would change his life forever. So when the yearly recruitment of the Order of the Arcane Knights rode through his village on his thirteenth birthday, he bid his friends and family a heartfelt farewell before venturing into the Capitol, where the story of a particular and formidable Arcane Knight began.
By my knighthood I swear: "I swear to by my life, the Knights, and my sword!" |
44,774 | 1,219 | 5 | 1,602 | 2,499 | Tuyta stared out into the seemingly endless crystal blue depths. He watched the waves rise like skyscrapers and then tumble back downwards into the uneasy sea. It would be hard sailing for anyone in a small boat, possible death if they went too far out. Any galleon would have no trouble cutting through the waves though. Tuyta wondered what had happened to his galleon, the Navy had of course recommissioned it, but to whom? He'd at least hoped they were semi-competent. A captain becomes attached to his ship like a rider becomes attached to his horse after a period of time.
Tuyta pushed himself up from the sand before clapping off his clothes and hands of any sand left on them. He held a hand to his brow as he stared into the sky, at least it was sunny. He turned back to his horse, a brown, rather common breed. He wasn't one for extravagances, except, of course, for his captains jacket. He'd kept that since his days as an admiral. It was a pale blue colour with added shoulder pads for protection as well as style. He mounted his horse and set him off on a slow walk back to the village he had been staying in for the past few weeks.
The village was being terrorised by bandits, you see, and Tuyta had been hired by them to protect and train them in order to combat said bandits. In return for which he'd get food for the day, a place to stay and a sum of money after the bandits were gone. He accepted with glee, not exactly 'Order of Arcane Knight's work but at least it made him feel somewhat good inside. He arrived at the village to meet the peculiar sight of a rather out of place courier trying to communicate to a farmer that he had a letter for a man he hadn't ever met. Turya got off his horse and lead him by the reigns over to the courier. He stared at the situation for a moment, the courier getting more and more frustrated while still trying to keep his patience and the farmer trying to hold his laughter as he realised the courier had meant Tuyta, something of which Tuyta knew himself. Eventually Tuyta did tap the lad on the soldier and explained that he was the one he was looking for.
"What's this about then?" Asked Tuyta
"Grand master Edward Lamillo has called your presence in Silvercliff" Answered the courier rather formally.
"No need to talk so 'princely' lad" Tuyta joked
"I'll ride there as soon as possible, I highly doubt I'm the last one to be contacted considering how early it is, so you'd probably better get on your way" The courier agreed and set out on his way. Tuyta turned back to the farmer. He explained that he'd taught the village all he could and that with the right timing, the bandits should be done for. He refused any payment and mounted his horse.
He was at Silvercliff within a few hours. He made his way through the crowded streets after putting his horse in a stable near an inn. He eventually made it to the grand Arcane Bastion. A wondrous sight to see, even if Tuyta had seen it about a thousand times over. He stared up its great height from a small distance away from the steps. As he neared the steps though, he began to hear singing. An old sea shanty Tuyta had remembered from his time as a private. Ah, how that took him back. Rigging the mast, keeping watch for land from the crows nest, firing a cannon once in a blue moon. He spotted the chap who was singing it. He seemed more beast than human, but Tuyta never was a racist. He waited for the chorus and burst in with his low, bellowing vocals, a low baritone to contrast the relatively high voice of the original singer. He sang until the song was finished before beginning his discussion.
"Quite a strange song for one as young as yourself to be singing!" He speculated, appearances rarely met expectations in this day and age.
"Are you a member of the Order? Or do you just like sitting on cold, uncomfortable steps?" He joked. | Name: Tuyta
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 45
Title/Nickname: Admiral Tuyta
Kingdom of birth: Originally born in the Jarl Tundra, but quickly moved to a small village near Silvercliff after his birth.
Worship: Worships steel somewhat, but not devoutly. More like a small belief in him.
Magical affinity: Water, Ice
Skills: What is your character good at? put weapons and military training here if any.
Tuyta has an engrossing amount of experience on the high seas. He is an excellent ship captain and knows how to keep cool under pressure. He is extremely experienced with his long cutlass and is known for fighting without a shield.
Equipment: Tools to conquer an savage world. Put enchanted magitech here if you have any.
-His specially made 'Long Cutlass' named 'Tidehunter'. Essentially a cutlass but extended in length and slightly bigger in the actual size of the blade.
-One canteen
-Enough 'Dosh' as he calls it to last him for about four weeks in a relatively good inn.
Favorite spells:
Tuyta's spells mostly involve getting his enemies wet enough to freeze them or knocking them over with the sheer force of water.
Character backround history:
Tuyta was born to a trader family in the icy Jarl Tundra. His family had traded there under the presumption that because no one ever went to trade with a chieftain they would be able to trade with them and in return charge much higher prices. They were, of course, wrong. The chieftains practically killed them as soon as they were spotted and they barely escaped with their lives. Taking a pregnant woman to a camp filled probably wasn't the best decision in hindsight. They quickly returned to Silvercliff, but were at a loss to do now as it was too dangerous to take a mere baby on the roads with them.
They eventually settled with living on Tuyta's grandfathers farm, where Tuyta was raised. Tuyta's upbringing was hard. He woke up at 6am every day to help with his farm duties and went to his 'school' immediately after finishing work. His 'school' was essentially his grandmother teaching him how to read and write every day up until his twelfth birthday. It was at this point that he discovered his true calling in life, the high seas.
He was sent out into Silvercliff in order to buy more grain to expand the farm with. He stumbled upon a military parade while doing this, including Silvercliff's navy. He saw the men in their uniforms, with their swords and their medals and it inspired him. He ran to the docks in an effort to see their grand ships. Unfortunately, only the smaller ships were there, but nonetheless he was awestruck by them. He travelled home that night a bit later than usual, and his family took notice. They enquired as to why he was so late, and he explained that he had seen the most amazing thing he'd ever seen in his life, and that when he was of age he'd join the navy and eventually buy his own ship. His family didn't approve, they wanted him to follow in their trades of farming or trading. Tuyta didn't care though, he was set on joining the navy.
And that's just what he did. On the eve of his sixteenth birthday, Tuyta applied for the navy and was accepted in the week later. He said farewell to his family and was shipped of to training, if you'll pardon the pun. The training regime was harsh and strict, but it was what was needed in order to produce a navy that wouldn't turn tail and run at every battle. He was eventually placed on a ship as one of the crew under Captain Briches. Briches took a shine to Tuyta and gradually promoted him up the ship over the course of 3 years until the point where he was first mate. Briches taught Tuyta everything he knew, which included everything he knew about combat and of course, the monsters that plagued the depths.
Surprisingly, there were very few monsters that appeared during Tuyta's six years as a first mate. Now and then they'd encounter a 'small' monster seeking to tear the ship in half, but these were usually taken care of using a cannon or two. It was only when Tuyta became the captain of his own ship that he encountered his most determined and difficult foe to that day. He was made a captain after Briches had recommended him to one of the admirals at the time. The admiral took note of Tuytas skill and when a new ship was free he was put in charge of said ship. He was set to patrol the outer rim of the Silvercliff territory, probably the most monster infested area within Silvercliff. The first few encounters were easily dealt with, any that actually managed to make it on board where slain by the joint effort of the crew. But there was one monster that kept coming back, one Tuyta would affectionately name 'Barnacle'. Barnacle became stronger and stronger every time he returned, to the point where he had actually concaved the middle of the upper deck and gave Tuyta the scar that rests upon his forehead. Tuyta realised something had to be done and he commissioned a special sword used to combat Barnacle while his ship was being repaired. He named his new sword 'Tidehunter' and set out to find and slay barnacle.
Barnacle appeared soon enough and after a lengthy struggle on the deck of the ship he was finally slain. Tuyta dismembered and beheaded Barnacle before bringing him back to the mainland and selling his meat to whomever would buy it. Barnacle never came back. Tuyta commanded his ships along the out regions until he was about 30. At this point he was recognized for his efforts in stopping any of the monsters from reaching the mainland or even the shores of Silvercliff. He was given a second ship to command, and then a third, and then a fourth, this eventually grew into a fleet that he commanded solely. He still patrolled the outer rim, but had a big influence on any wars and any naval operations going on. He grew in reputation and respect over the years, eventually retiring when he was 40. He planned to retire to a farm, like his grandfather and spend the rest of his days detached from the world. But he quickly grew impatient and restless. He was eager to jump back into the fray and get some danger back into his life. Luckily, he was sought out by Edward Kind and recruited into the Order of Arcane Knights.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear |
44,775 | 1,219 | 6 | 345 | 92 | Quill paused only for a moment when the new voice joined him in his song, but just as quickly he pulled a wide grin and picked back up. It was rare that others would join in on his songs outside of a few drunkards now and again, and even rarer that those who would join in looked as though they new the songs well beyond their lyrics. So he enjoyed the remaining verses, harmonized with the seafaring man, and when the song came to an end, he made a show of springing to his feet and offering a graciously low bow.
"You'd be quite right, friend, on both counts! It's a tune I picked up transitioning from port to port not too long ago, in fact I carried it with me here to Silvercliff," he said. "Sir or madam Quill, whichever the fancy. Jester first, but knight as well, I take it you too are answering the summons of the kind lord Edward?"
He took a moment to search the man over, try and glean from his briny exterior what he could. The sailing types were always well-worn and hard to puzzle out, but then, most of them weren't knights of the Order either. As far as first visitors went, Quill would say he was pleased with the interesting start. | Name: Quill
Gender: Up to speculation, often defaults to “he” but "she" is fairly frequent
Race: Beast
Age: Vaguely-Twenties
Title/Nickname: Jester Quill/Quill the Grin
Kingdom of birth: Even Quill doesn’t know the answer to this one. At some point he began to be passed off and off between various nomadic peoples. He’d gladly lie though, and say he’s from anywhere that suits him.
Worship: Quill purports to worship just about any god that suits the situation he’s in. He might praise one god for a joke, or blaspheme another to get a rise out of someone. Though he definitely believes they exist, he is not, personally, a big fan of any of them.
Appearance: Tall and thin, a wiry and feminine frame wrapped in a few layers of lean but practiced muscle. His hair is long and fluffy and fiery red, and two abnormally large hare-ears of the same color fall behind his head, a stark call to his bestial genes. His eyes are blue and icy, and it might be hard to stare at them for very long in the right light.
Though for the most part his clothes are light and flowing, two things Quill is never seen without are the overly-large-brimmed hat atop his head, and the grin that never seems to leave his face.
Magical affinity: Only Wind, but quite skilled with it.
Skills: For combat—Wind affinity, swift strikes, quick and agile.
Out of combat—Fairly good singer, silver-tongued, good storyteller
Equipment: Equipment: Quill’s weapon consists of two forms, a single-handed curved and notched blade, and a gnarled scythe. Often he wields the blade alone, and keeps the staff portion in its folded position at his side, but for the instances where he needs the extra reach, he can attach the blade to the end of the staff by its handle, locking it in place and extending the staff out into its full length. The wood, while scratched, neither splinters nor cracks, and the blade though weathered shows equal signs of integrity. Quill won’t say where he got the weapon, but it clearly isn’t his, its grim nature a contrast to his bright and jovial presented self.
Favorite spells: Presently, Quill’s affinity is used mostly for mobility. He tends to keep moving on the battlefield, preferring quick hit-and-run strikes and swift counters. Though he can to some extent deflect and/or propel objects with wind, most of his magical prowess is apparent in the mobility it offers.
Character background history: Quill is not fond of people, perhaps that’s why he’s a jester, –or was anyway– so that he could mock them openly without causing too much of a fuss. Born of the affair between a bestial and a human, Quill spent most of his early life transitioning from roaming group to roaming group, being raised by just about whoever could be arsed to do so until they grew tired of it, and shoved him along. He heard a lot of mockery for his appearance, and was called a “mutt” most places he went. In his early teens he spent a lot of time shadowing with gangs and street-clans.
Quill will never gives a straight or consistent answer as to how he learned to fight as he does. Though his stories often include being taught by a nomad called Sienne, sometimes they are a woman, others a man, sometimes a monster and sometimes a figment of his imagination. Whatever the case, everything between Quill’s earliest teenage years and the current time is a blur, and by now, Quill probably believes half the lies he tells about it anyway.
Whatever the case, his motives for joining the order are nearly as cloudy. He changes his answer a lot, but he’s more interested in what others’ reasons are, anyway. In fact, unless prompted, Quill seems to go out of his way to avoid being the topic of a conversation that doesn’t involve some kind of antic or another.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear To Enjoy This~ |
44,776 | 1,219 | 7 | 729 | 2,160 | The wandering knight Alexander Atreides was not nearly as well found as many of the others within the list given to the messenger. The man was on the outskirts of the civilized lands, parlaying with some of the darker things of the wild woods. They had been getting restless, causing problems with the members of Silvercliff that called these borderlands their home. These Ancient Woods were indeed an unwelcome place to many, even the beastfolk within often times wisely moving about, moving under the blessing of Vine and as her whimsy demanded. Few others had ever found hospice in that place, his family included, but that was neither here nor there. Right now one such beastman was taking offense to the current farmers and their, albeit hostile, approaches to attempting to clear out the woods that had grown out into their property. This was a classic problem he saw often, the wilds growing into civilized borders, and their current denizens taking offense to what they saw as a natural course of things taking their deserved place. And, long story short, this beastman would settle for no diplomacy, so it was settled the old way.
Steel and skill. Single combat, if you will. Atreides, standing for the farmer and his kin. The beastman, for his and the forest. The two had crossed paths before, granted they had not been on opposing sides. But fate was whimsical indeed, and as he blocked a downward stroke from the creature's axe, he twisted and spun, throwing the beast off balance and planting a plated foot into its midriff, sending it skidding back several paces. His old grandblade came to rest on his shoulder, shadow billowing from its intricacies as his cowl seemed to hide his visage in inky black as well. The two would reclash several times over before blood was leaking from the chest of the beastman, a shallow blow that ended the contest. Rising from his half crouched position, Atreides settled the blade back into a resting position on his shoulder, pulling the armored cowl back. "First blood is mine, Huntsman. Today, the wild withdraws to the property lines as agreed upon."
The beastman huffed, wrapping a loose cloth around its chest to bind its wound. A few inches more leeway and he would have a corpse, not a bested foe, but the knight was not interested in needless slaughter. But an agreement was an agreement, and the woods withdrew from the farmer's land as agreed upon for the time being. Sliding the blade onto his back, where it came to rest in a sheath, he turned to face the farmers as they approached, thankful but anxious around the shadowy knight. He denied any payment beyond enough food to get him back to his homestead in the woods when a courier caught his attention. The lad rode up, hauling himself off his horse. Atreides recognized the symbol of the Order on his uniform, and walked over as the lad unrolled a scroll. "Knight Atreides, Grandmaster Edward demands your presence posthaste!"
Atreides looked down and took the document from his hands, reading over the contents and nodded slowly, returning the document to the boy. "So it is, Courier. Be on your way, then, I shall away to Silvercliff and see what our esteemed Grandmaster needs of me this time." Atreides had no horse, for he walked wherever he may be needed, but in times of need he knew the hidden paths around the land, part of how he had survived growing up was knowing the hidden ways around. So he covered as much ground as a man on horseback might, but it was indeed later in the day when he arrived at the capitol of the Kingdom of Silvercliff. A fine place, far too bustling and civilized for his tastes but a fine place none the less. And within was his destination, well and easy to pick out from a ways away. The Arcane Bastion, grandiose name, but fitting. Striding into its corridors, he ignored the singing and made his way towards where Edward would be no doubt waiting and bowed his head briefly to the Grandmaster. "You called and I answer, Grandmaster. What need have you of a Knight Wanderer?" | Name: Alexander Atreides
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 42
Title/Nickname: The Wanderer
Kingdom of birth: Born to the dark forests inbetween kingdoms.
Worship: Sworn to the god Steel.
Appearance:
Magical affinity:
Primary: Steel
Secondary: Shadow
Skills:
Atreides is a cautious, methodical fighter who approahces each battle with care and focus. Never to underestimate and never one to waste time mincing words with his foes, the Wanderer has two very distinct styles of combat, but both have points that can be drawn from both. He is a strong and, facing single foes, deceptively fast fighter, able to bring overwhelming force upon single foes, and sweeping devastation against massed foes, and it takes several moments to move from one stance to the other, which can be a weakpoint if spotted. The man uses his shadow magic to create fear in foes, each blow they might land billowing black, twisted shadows rather than blood, only adding to the illusion of a juggernaut of inhuman nature.
When facing massed numbers of foes, Atreides takes his grand blade and wields it in wide, sweeping blows that carry great weight and power, carving swathes of damage with each blow. While this stance can keep large numbers at bay, this is a foolhardy approach towards fast, single targets as they can easily dance around the swinging blows. To further dissuade foes from trying to move in between sweeps, black shadows billow from the blade and armor of the Wanderer, creating a nightmare image towards common thugs and warriors. This stance cannot rightly hold off an army for too long, as it expends energy, both arcane and physical, at a sometimes alarming rate. The stance is as many parts scaring away the massed numbers of foes as it is killing as many, and one would therefore, perhaps rightly, assume he is more comfortable in a single fight then facing massed armies alone.
When facing a single, skilled foe, such grand theatrics and wide, sweeping blows are ill suited. When coming against such a foe, Atreides must arrest his momentum from such wild swings and shift into his other stance, a more deliberate and calculating stance, each blow far more controlled, and rarely equal in savage strength to the former stance, but far more reliable and safe for himself in the long run. This control and precision costs him when swarmed, and the moments it takes to get momentum up can be dangerous to the man within if taken advantage of. Enemies who are equals in skill that can last long fights also are dangerous, even in this stance, as it seems for each strong and controlled blow Atreides makes in this form, it is not unusual to see such duels last far too long, as the caution he holds in this stance might sacrifice chances at ending the conflict sooner.
Equipment:
Ancestoral Plate Armor: A family heirloom, or so Atreides claims, the armor has a far darker origin, having been worn at the time of his whole blood families death by something that the current owner refuses to identify, letting rumors abound.
Old Grandblade: Bearing no name, this weapon is older than its current owner by many generations, and has long become attuned with the shadows that are often en-scrolled around its blade, to the degree that only Shadow and Steel spheres of magic can be channeled through it, other magic failing to even manifest from its blade.
Favorite spells:
Shadow Form: Far more intricate then the name would give away, the form simply hides the injuries to flesh and blood, that punch through his armor, by issuing out blinding, disoreintating shadow, while each stroke of his blade painted inky shadows like paint on canvas. The man is indeed but flesh and bone beneath his armor, and the shadows may be but momentary distractions to the wise, but what foe needs to know that?
Steel Form: By taking the lost equipment of the dead, or rarely volunteered, he can reform the damage done to his own armor and blade, creating the illusion of this shadowy knight walking through a field of dead men, armor rotting away and restoring the form of the Atreides. Smoke and mirrors, maybe, but a battle lost in the mind is already lost before swords are crossed.
Character backround history: The black forests between kingdoms hold a many great secret, some hostile to the kingdoms of the realm, some not so much. The Wanderer Alexnader Atreides is one such enigma. Born to lordless natives within the forests, they survived by cunning and guile alone, walking the paths unwelcome to most. Such wanderers could stumble upon things better left undiscovered, and as a young Atreides would find out, the armor and blade that are his trademarks were such a thing. In a hidden, abandoned place in such lands, a decrepit keep was found by the Atreides brood, both father, mother, and various children of age were scouting for new paths to use between the kingdoms. Such hidden paths out of sight of the kingdoms were always valuable, as they could escape most common troops and thugs such ways, if the needs demanded it. Opening the place, against the warnings in place, the wanderers found an apparently decrepit suit of armor and ruined blade, both of which arose as if possessed.
The blade and armor claimed all he held dear at the time, his small family of wanderers all, in a fierce series of clashes that left the young boy injured but undaunted. He stood in the dark place, torch in one hand, blade in the other. His wounds were grave, but he refused to let his own hubris and mistakes free the shadows within. The torch did him no good, nor did the blade, leaving him with his own affinities of shadow and steel. Reforming his blade from the ruined equipment of his family, and hiding his own place with the shadows against those of the armor, the clash lasted far longer than it should have. The ultimate outcome was the man's survival, but the details are kept vague. Some might think Steel interceded on his behalf, against all odds as the only hope he had of survival. Others, that the armor accepted the grief stricken young man as its new keeper, a curse hidden as a blessing, or a reward costing too much. Whatever the truth may be, the Wanderer would not speak of it, instead cautioning those who would walk hidden paths to tread carefully, as some things were not meant to be found again.
Whatever the truth, as dangerous or harmless as it may be, Atreides eventually walked out of the dark places between kingdoms, crossing paths with the Order of Arcane Knights. He followed them back to their temple, where he swore service unending to the Order. Whether this was an attempt to atone for his failures, or to free himself prematurely in glorious battle, has yet to be seen. But whatever the task given, he would see it out to completion, regardless of the cost to himself or others. This has made him a mixed blessing when arriving somewhere. A blessing, as a situation would be resolved by the Order. A curse, as the resolution might not be as clean or kind as some might hope. But he follows his orders to the letter, and if that means violence or peace, it means little either way to Atreides. Or seems to mean little, his tales usually don't add up completely, leaving others to wonder how much truth is within that armor. Or, to some, how much man remains within that old armor.
By my knighthood I swear: On Steel and Shadow do I swear fealty until death and beyond its cold grasp. |
44,777 | 1,219 | 8 | 459 | 87 | The fields were green and the air was fresh, at least outside of the stables. A young stable boy sat amongst the hay, a broadsword much heavier than he resting against the small tree stump beside him. With a small rag in his hand, he polished the blade until it gleamed with the intensity of the sun, as were the orders.
A luxiourious smell soon entered the stable, destroying the smell of horse manure but the stable boy did not stop instead he carried on with his work as the Knight, whose orders the stable boy was following, stood in the main house stirring a large pot of his famous stew. Throwing in a few more potatoes and carrots Arthur tasted the stew to see if it was to his liking. Pieces of meat floated among the variety of vegetables bubbling slowly to perfection, a family recipe that was sure to put some hairs on your chest.
A young man with the symbol of the Order found himself outside the stables, smelling the delicious aroma he followed the scent to kitchen. Without knocking he entered the house causing Arthur to stare down at the man at the sudden intrusion. Upon seeing the symbol he wore, Arthur laddled out the stew placing it on the table beside the messenger. "What news have you, messenger?" Arthur asked.
The messanger took out his parchment, unrolling it he read aloud, "Esteemed knight of the order. I, Grand master Edward Lamillo beseech you (honor allowing) to drop whatever assignment or task you are currently working on. And make haste to war room where I will brief to you new urgent assignment of extreme importance."
"Then I must go at once, please eat, you must have journeyed far to seek the Knights," Arthur said to the messenger before making his way out towards the stable. "BOY!" he bellowed, "bring me my horse and my sword." The stable boy hurried out of the stable towing a white horse behind him. Taking the sheathed sword off the horse, the stable boy assissted Arthur in mounting the horse before handing him his broadsword. Arthur fixed the sword to his back and took the reigns of his horse, "Thank you George, take care of everything until I return and see to it the messenger is well," he told the stable boy. Snapping the reigns he set off to meet with the others at the Arcane Bastion in Silvercliff.
Arthur's horse galloped through the streets of Silvercliff, with the Arcane Bastion in sight they made a beeline towards it, ignoring the stares of wonder and amazement being a knight in the order brought. Reaching the Bastion, Arthur dismounted the horse and tied his red cape on over his sword, the hilt sticking out through the top. Leaving his horse in the hands of a servant Arthur made his way inside to meet with Grandmaster Edward. | Name: Yeldar Dragonhelm the Younger
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Age: 78
Title/Nickname: Lovingly given the nickname "Junior", by his clan, Yeldar the Younger has been known as "Sir Junior" ever since joining the Order.
Kingdom of birth: Hailing from the Dwarven citadel of Dragonhelm, underneath the Greybark ridge to the northeast, Yeldar has been a legal resident of Silvercliff for almost 7 years.
Worship: Along with all members of the Dragonhelm clan, Yeldar honors and seeks guidance from his deceased ancestors. He keeps a carving of his 7th-great grandmother in his pack, in case he ever needs to ask a question.
Magical affinity: Lightning (Active combat) and Fire (Enchanting).
Skills:
Years of combat training and experience from fighting the endless battle for the halls of Dragonhelm. Yeldar's particular style of fighting involves staying at a distance and destroying or at least putting multiple holes in whatever he faces. If it should come to close quarters, he relies on the use of his Shock spell or simply crushes his opponent in classic dwarven bear-hug style.
Yeldar is also skilled in metal craftsmanship, diplomacy, and trade, with a shrewd eye and an even better memory.
Equipment: Yeldar carries only one artifact, a six-shot pistol built by his great-uncle. Rather than utilising the inefficient and easily-damaged blasting powder common to bandits and other hopeful gunmen, this weapon uses a special semi-arcane blend called Dragonfire to propel its projectiles. Dragonfire generates enough speed for the steel bullets to easily pierce leather and chain armor, and if properly aimed, even through steel plate. Aided by Yeldar's spells, his bullets are enchanted to more devestating effect, able to explode and deal additional damage to armored targets.
The dwarf's pack contains other equipment necessary for journeying and survival: Flint and tinder, food, maps, skinning knife, cooking pots, and a simple first-aid kit. While not carrying a great deal of money on his person, he can often write a traders note to the local merchant's guilds in return for the local currency.
(Merchants traveling to Dragonhelm can then redeem the trader's note for more than its face value. Many guilds take this as a form of investment, especially if the signature on the note has good credit.)
Favorite spells:
Shock: Using his Lightning affinity, Yeldar casts short-range or direct contact arcs of electricity to stun or injure opponents who get close. Increasing the range on this spell requires more effort, so Yeldar prefers to use the more-effective pistol when able.
Heated Bullet: Casting short-duration enchantments on his bullets, Yeldar can cause them to superheat on impact with the target, either exploding or burning holes through the enemy. This is also effecting for clearing barriers, disrupting combat, and signalling.
Character backround history:
Born the youngest son of the Dragonhelm clan chief, Yeldar the Younger would have to force his way through all 17 of his older siblings to have a shot at the council head. Not that he didn't think about it a few times, especially after a long night of teasing and alcohol, Yeldar loved his family too much to ever try for the position. Instead, he followed 5 of his brothers into military training for a few dozen years, had a brief stint as merchant for another 18, then opened up a silversmith shop in Silvercliff for a few years. Hearing word of the Order, and feeling the call for adventure once more, Yeldar sold his shop to a cousin and moved to the capital to join The Order of Arcane Knights.
By my knighthood I swear: "I swear, on my grand-father's grave, that I will uphold the code, banner, and laws of the Order of Arcane Knights."
Other: Yeldar is very wealthy, due to his past as a trader and silversmith, but keeps all of his money stored at his family's home in Dragonhelm. As stated above, he uses trader's notes to obtain local currency, but this can backfire if the local guild refuses his note. |
44,778 | 1,219 | 9 | 1,602 | 2,499 | Tuyta looked at Quill for a few seconds before answering. He wasn't quite sure what to kill them. Of course, the first gender that came to mind when he saw Quill was male, but now the sudden questioning of that made Tuyta ponder. He decided that it didn't actually matter, Quill seemed to not care which he was called and frankly Tuyta wasn't looking out for any young hussies like he did in his younger years.
"Aye" He answered, reaching into a small pouch that hung on his belt and pulling a wooden pipe from it along with some tobacco. He began to sprinkle the tobacco into the bowl end of the pipe as he spoke.
"The name's Tuyta, Sailor first, knight second" he joked doing a mock salute. He retrieved a box of matches from his back pocket and struck one against the rough edge of the box before putting the pipe to his mouth and lighting it. Every now and then while he spoke he would either take the pipe out from his mouth to enunciate with his hands or would blow smoke out of the side of his mouth.
"Aye, that ones got some history. I can remember singing it when I was just a private in the Royal Navy. Good times they were, none of this chivalry ponce nonsense. Just straight up fights, know what I mean?" He laughed a small bit to himself.
"But enough about me, you don't happen to know anything about why old Ed' called us here do you? The courier was a bit quick with his description of why I was summoned." He crossed his arms, but kept his right arm in a position where he could hold the pipe to his mouth. | Name: Tuyta
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 45
Title/Nickname: Admiral Tuyta
Kingdom of birth: Originally born in the Jarl Tundra, but quickly moved to a small village near Silvercliff after his birth.
Worship: Worships steel somewhat, but not devoutly. More like a small belief in him.
Magical affinity: Water, Ice
Skills: What is your character good at? put weapons and military training here if any.
Tuyta has an engrossing amount of experience on the high seas. He is an excellent ship captain and knows how to keep cool under pressure. He is extremely experienced with his long cutlass and is known for fighting without a shield.
Equipment: Tools to conquer an savage world. Put enchanted magitech here if you have any.
-His specially made 'Long Cutlass' named 'Tidehunter'. Essentially a cutlass but extended in length and slightly bigger in the actual size of the blade.
-One canteen
-Enough 'Dosh' as he calls it to last him for about four weeks in a relatively good inn.
Favorite spells:
Tuyta's spells mostly involve getting his enemies wet enough to freeze them or knocking them over with the sheer force of water.
Character backround history:
Tuyta was born to a trader family in the icy Jarl Tundra. His family had traded there under the presumption that because no one ever went to trade with a chieftain they would be able to trade with them and in return charge much higher prices. They were, of course, wrong. The chieftains practically killed them as soon as they were spotted and they barely escaped with their lives. Taking a pregnant woman to a camp filled probably wasn't the best decision in hindsight. They quickly returned to Silvercliff, but were at a loss to do now as it was too dangerous to take a mere baby on the roads with them.
They eventually settled with living on Tuyta's grandfathers farm, where Tuyta was raised. Tuyta's upbringing was hard. He woke up at 6am every day to help with his farm duties and went to his 'school' immediately after finishing work. His 'school' was essentially his grandmother teaching him how to read and write every day up until his twelfth birthday. It was at this point that he discovered his true calling in life, the high seas.
He was sent out into Silvercliff in order to buy more grain to expand the farm with. He stumbled upon a military parade while doing this, including Silvercliff's navy. He saw the men in their uniforms, with their swords and their medals and it inspired him. He ran to the docks in an effort to see their grand ships. Unfortunately, only the smaller ships were there, but nonetheless he was awestruck by them. He travelled home that night a bit later than usual, and his family took notice. They enquired as to why he was so late, and he explained that he had seen the most amazing thing he'd ever seen in his life, and that when he was of age he'd join the navy and eventually buy his own ship. His family didn't approve, they wanted him to follow in their trades of farming or trading. Tuyta didn't care though, he was set on joining the navy.
And that's just what he did. On the eve of his sixteenth birthday, Tuyta applied for the navy and was accepted in the week later. He said farewell to his family and was shipped of to training, if you'll pardon the pun. The training regime was harsh and strict, but it was what was needed in order to produce a navy that wouldn't turn tail and run at every battle. He was eventually placed on a ship as one of the crew under Captain Briches. Briches took a shine to Tuyta and gradually promoted him up the ship over the course of 3 years until the point where he was first mate. Briches taught Tuyta everything he knew, which included everything he knew about combat and of course, the monsters that plagued the depths.
Surprisingly, there were very few monsters that appeared during Tuyta's six years as a first mate. Now and then they'd encounter a 'small' monster seeking to tear the ship in half, but these were usually taken care of using a cannon or two. It was only when Tuyta became the captain of his own ship that he encountered his most determined and difficult foe to that day. He was made a captain after Briches had recommended him to one of the admirals at the time. The admiral took note of Tuytas skill and when a new ship was free he was put in charge of said ship. He was set to patrol the outer rim of the Silvercliff territory, probably the most monster infested area within Silvercliff. The first few encounters were easily dealt with, any that actually managed to make it on board where slain by the joint effort of the crew. But there was one monster that kept coming back, one Tuyta would affectionately name 'Barnacle'. Barnacle became stronger and stronger every time he returned, to the point where he had actually concaved the middle of the upper deck and gave Tuyta the scar that rests upon his forehead. Tuyta realised something had to be done and he commissioned a special sword used to combat Barnacle while his ship was being repaired. He named his new sword 'Tidehunter' and set out to find and slay barnacle.
Barnacle appeared soon enough and after a lengthy struggle on the deck of the ship he was finally slain. Tuyta dismembered and beheaded Barnacle before bringing him back to the mainland and selling his meat to whomever would buy it. Barnacle never came back. Tuyta commanded his ships along the out regions until he was about 30. At this point he was recognized for his efforts in stopping any of the monsters from reaching the mainland or even the shores of Silvercliff. He was given a second ship to command, and then a third, and then a fourth, this eventually grew into a fleet that he commanded solely. He still patrolled the outer rim, but had a big influence on any wars and any naval operations going on. He grew in reputation and respect over the years, eventually retiring when he was 40. He planned to retire to a farm, like his grandfather and spend the rest of his days detached from the world. But he quickly grew impatient and restless. He was eager to jump back into the fray and get some danger back into his life. Luckily, he was sought out by Edward Kind and recruited into the Order of Arcane Knights.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear |
44,779 | 1,219 | 10 | 345 | 92 | Quill enjoyed stories, both hearing, telling and retelling them. He was quite low on sailor-tales as it was, perhaps this Tuyta would make a good subject for one. He made a note to ask the man about his naval past later on, but before he could move to continue their conversation, a couple of folks who looked like proper knights had made their way into the bastion. The first was a statue of a man, his armor decrepit and haunting, and the blade he bore none the lesser. The second seemed at least somewhat cheerier, though both seemed in too much of a hurry.
"My my," Quill mused, attention completely diverted. "The eagerness of some folks, hm? I don't think the first fellow even bothered to knock. Mayhaps I've just underestimated the urgency of our summoning."
He leaned back on his hips and let his arm rest upon the handle of the blade dangling at his side. "Oh, apologies, no I can't say I'm too in the know about what we're really doing here. I can however say that, whatever it is, it's bound to me more entertaining than anything else going on in this political storm of a kingdom. I think I'm going to remain out here for a bit, see what else the tide brings in, so to speak. Always interested in seeing the sorts of people this Order attracts." | Name: Quill
Gender: Up to speculation, often defaults to “he” but "she" is fairly frequent
Race: Beast
Age: Vaguely-Twenties
Title/Nickname: Jester Quill/Quill the Grin
Kingdom of birth: Even Quill doesn’t know the answer to this one. At some point he began to be passed off and off between various nomadic peoples. He’d gladly lie though, and say he’s from anywhere that suits him.
Worship: Quill purports to worship just about any god that suits the situation he’s in. He might praise one god for a joke, or blaspheme another to get a rise out of someone. Though he definitely believes they exist, he is not, personally, a big fan of any of them.
Appearance: Tall and thin, a wiry and feminine frame wrapped in a few layers of lean but practiced muscle. His hair is long and fluffy and fiery red, and two abnormally large hare-ears of the same color fall behind his head, a stark call to his bestial genes. His eyes are blue and icy, and it might be hard to stare at them for very long in the right light.
Though for the most part his clothes are light and flowing, two things Quill is never seen without are the overly-large-brimmed hat atop his head, and the grin that never seems to leave his face.
Magical affinity: Only Wind, but quite skilled with it.
Skills: For combat—Wind affinity, swift strikes, quick and agile.
Out of combat—Fairly good singer, silver-tongued, good storyteller
Equipment: Equipment: Quill’s weapon consists of two forms, a single-handed curved and notched blade, and a gnarled scythe. Often he wields the blade alone, and keeps the staff portion in its folded position at his side, but for the instances where he needs the extra reach, he can attach the blade to the end of the staff by its handle, locking it in place and extending the staff out into its full length. The wood, while scratched, neither splinters nor cracks, and the blade though weathered shows equal signs of integrity. Quill won’t say where he got the weapon, but it clearly isn’t his, its grim nature a contrast to his bright and jovial presented self.
Favorite spells: Presently, Quill’s affinity is used mostly for mobility. He tends to keep moving on the battlefield, preferring quick hit-and-run strikes and swift counters. Though he can to some extent deflect and/or propel objects with wind, most of his magical prowess is apparent in the mobility it offers.
Character background history: Quill is not fond of people, perhaps that’s why he’s a jester, –or was anyway– so that he could mock them openly without causing too much of a fuss. Born of the affair between a bestial and a human, Quill spent most of his early life transitioning from roaming group to roaming group, being raised by just about whoever could be arsed to do so until they grew tired of it, and shoved him along. He heard a lot of mockery for his appearance, and was called a “mutt” most places he went. In his early teens he spent a lot of time shadowing with gangs and street-clans.
Quill will never gives a straight or consistent answer as to how he learned to fight as he does. Though his stories often include being taught by a nomad called Sienne, sometimes they are a woman, others a man, sometimes a monster and sometimes a figment of his imagination. Whatever the case, everything between Quill’s earliest teenage years and the current time is a blur, and by now, Quill probably believes half the lies he tells about it anyway.
Whatever the case, his motives for joining the order are nearly as cloudy. He changes his answer a lot, but he’s more interested in what others’ reasons are, anyway. In fact, unless prompted, Quill seems to go out of his way to avoid being the topic of a conversation that doesn’t involve some kind of antic or another.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear To Enjoy This~ |
44,780 | 1,219 | 11 | 1,404 | 5,009 | Lao Xijer
Lao had been switching between sprinting and jogging for the past few hours. He had made sure to take plenty of food breaks along the way, using the same tactics he used to escape the bill at the eatery. He knew that the law might catch up with him one day, but he had his excuses. "So...so...tired." Lao mumbled as he stumbled along. All that running tired him out, at least to the point of wanting to collapse right then and there. Lao was about a mile away from Silvercliff at the moment, but from here he could see the Arcane Bastions high towers. Lao smiled, it had been a while since he has seen such a place.
"Aye, ya look a little tired, have a drink!" an unknown voice yelled. Lao glanced to the right of him, off the road was a small stand with food, fruit, and all kinds of drinks were being sold. "Well don't mind if I do." Lao said light heartedly, walking over to the stand and picking out the drink. The man was surprised to see that Lao drunk it in one gulp. "Why thank you old man, I'll have to he on my way." He said quickly before taking off. "But, no pay?" The man mumbled, but Lao was long gone. Lao was running as if he was the lightning, and looked like he was, lightning was arcing of his body ad he ran, wind rushed after him as he past.
It did not take Lao to long to get to the gates of the great Arcane Bastion. He grabbed the gates, and rested, trying to regain his breath, all that running tired him out once again, but he was at his destination. "Oh...oh god." He mumbled as he barely opened the gates and stumbled in before collapsing on the cold concrete. He landed face first, and he body with him of course. "Help." He mumbled lazily. He could here the voices of other people inside the courtyard of the Bastion, he just was not sure who they were. | Name:
Lao Xijer
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Age:
26
Title/Nickname:
Sir Metallum
Kingdom of birth:
Li Lian
Worship:
His family was a very religious family, as he grew up, he also learned about the gods. He and his family holds Vine above all else.
Magical affinity:
Metal
Lightning
Skills:
Metal Works- Lao grew up around a family of Metal workers. He loved it, the color of molten, the way he could mold it into anything he wanted. He followed his parents to work just so he could do it himself. His parents eventually allowed him to work with them, and he has had a few years of experience working with it. He has even had a chance to watch magitech being created.
Combat- After he was sent to school deeper into the ever folding lands of Li Lian. In this academy, he was thought Li Lian martial arts, and quickly become adept. He was also though swordsmanship, Li Lian swordsmanship training was different than other kingdoms. He expelled in this, and became third best swordsman in his class. But he really never enjoyed the fighting itself, he enjoyed the weapons that has used.
Battle Experience- During his time in this school, he had the opportunity to fight and hunt monsters.
Equipment:
Steel Plated Iron- He actually smithed this armor himself, under the supervision of his father. The arms and covered in yellow and blue cloth. The shoulder plate is claded in leather. This is a very durable piece of armor, and it actually has is signature somewhere on it.
Guangdao- Lao did not actually make this bit his father did. It was meant to be used for his own time in Military school, but he could never go. So when his son had the opportunity to go, his father have him the blade. Lao has kept the blade on the best condition that he could. Despite all that, he early uses this, he keeps it on his back almost all the time.
Chokutō: It had a black scabbard and matching hilt and is a larger size than a normal chokutō. It's been repeatedly shown to be very durable and able to cut through various materials. Lao forged this blade himself, and wears it on his waist, his signature his signature is somewhere on the scabbard.
Favorite spells:
If Lao is not using his Metal Affinity to craft of smith, he creates metal spikes and fires them and his enemies. If they lodge themselves in the enemy, once inside, bolts of electricity fire from within them. If the spikes don't, as they pass, bolts with still fire.
Character backround history:
On the surface, Lao comes off as a rather silly and lighthearted person, frequently engaging in comical behavior and retaining his oft-present grin even while making threats. He displays a childlike amusement for new situations whether or not they prove adverse or even potentially fatal, has a penchant for wandering off on his own only to collapse in the middle of a street. Even with all these idiosyncrasies, he is extremely personable and his particularly complimentary nature easily gains him the friendship and trust of those surrounding him.
Of course, these aspects belie the complex and determined young man underneath. On the reverse side of his frivolous nature is his considerable shrewdness, which makes him quite capable of reading people and situations. He is particularly observant, taking into consideration even the smallest details of his surroundings in order to better understand and deal with challenges and is not above using cheap tricks or questionable tactics to ensure his own survival. Being singularly ambitious, Lao also has a remarkably tenacious will that allows him to overcome virtually insurmountable obstacles and accept inhuman burdens for the sake of his ultimate goal. He has considerable pride that will not stand for having his humanity insulted or condemned by his enemies, but he is also capable of shelving his pride if it becomes something that will stand in the way of his objective.
Lao is very protective of his family and comrades, refusing to allow any harm to come to them and often deeming their safety more important than his own in spite of his own personal ambitions and goals. He has to be reminded several times that his own safety is something upon which many people depend and uses his loved ones as his primary motivation when all hope seems lost. As such, he becomes furious when observing those who willingly or remorselessly cast aside their own comrades or brethren and is sickened by the idea of superiors who reject their duty to those who trust them.
Lao was not born into the most noble of families. In fact, he was not born into a noble family. He was born into a smiting family, there money was modest, but nothing amazing. He loved working with metal, hour would watch his mother work, forming the metal into beautiful things. His mother and father were not born with an affinity, but Lao was. His parents saw this as an opportunity for him to become someone, so they sent him to the Li Lian Military Academy. He was thought many things and ended up graduating third in his class. It was not even a year after that he was sent to OAK, in all truth, he did not want to hunt beasts He would much rather tinkered than become a knight. But as he grew to learn of all the injustices in the world, the useless killing of all being in either world, he found a reason to become one.
By my knighthood I swear:
I SWEAR, ON DA SWORD OF KNIGHT HOOD AND WHATNOT!! |
44,781 | 1,219 | 12 | 2,717 | 553 | The large, lethargic animal man sauntered slowly towards the gate. His journey had been a long one, a bit longer than most thanks to his abnormally patient pace. The people that lined the path to the Bastion stopped and whispered as he passed, but Loduzzro paid them no mind. He had no quarrel with them, and as far as he could tell they had no quarrel with him. His destination was getting ever slowly closer, and to stop now would be a waste of precious time.
As he came upon the first steps leading toward the gate, he sniffed the air. It smelled strongly of sweat and steel. The stench of knights, TRUE knights, sworn to an order. Everything Loduzzro wanted to be was just within reach. As he ascended the stairs towards the gates of the order, Loduzzro began to hear the sound of voices. Some were indistinguishable murmurs, but some were quite loud, speaking of a new batch of knights. He paused for a moment, (or rather, a solid minute), to think. If there was a new batch of knights, could he perhaps join in alongside them? He quickened his movement ever so slightly.
Finally arriving at the top, Loduzzro approached the gate... To see a knight, perhaps? Or what he thought must be a knight. It wore armour and carried a sword, after all. Was that not the makings of a knight? He pondered this for a bit before remembering why he had paid this 'knight' any mind in the first place. The poor fellow was splayed out on the ground, panting and gasping. He needed help! This was Loduzzro's chance to prove himself! And so, with a loud grumbling grunt, he picked up the incapacitated cavalier and swung the poor fellow over his shoulder like a sack of flour, carrying him further inside to find help. With a loud booming voice, Loduzzro exclaimed, "THIS KNIGHT NEED HELP." | Name: Loduzzro
Gender: Male
Race: Beastman (Pale-Throated Slothman)
Age: Relatively difficult to discern. Somewhere between teens and thirties.
Title/Nickname: The Simple, The Hair-Knight
Kingdom of birth: Loduzzro has wandered for all of his days, which he has not counted. He bears no kingdom.
Worship: Loduzzro, for all that can be discerned, worships Vine rather devoutly. His practices seem nonsensical and the prayers he offers are generally gibberish.
Magical affinity: Wood and Stone
Skills: Despite his gentle appearance and slow movement, Loduzzro is actually quite savage in battle. As well, he is quite adept with both Wood and Stone magicks, given his otherwise very simple nature, making him easily underestimated.
Equipment: Loduzzro's weapon is a large sequoia branch which he preserves with his wood magic. There are a number of sharp stones sticking out from the branch. He lacks any real armor, relying on his stone magic to protect his body in combat. He carries with him a sack of sweet fruits that he eats from.
Favorite spells: Loduzzro creates armor of stone to protect himself in combat, and uses his magic to "communicate" and co-ordinate nature such as trees into providing him favorable conditions.
Character background history: Born in the outskirts of the Li Lian, Loduzzro was a strange being from his first moments on this earth. His odd and unnatural appearance, even compared to most Beastfolk, made him an outcast from the very start. He wandered, lost and alone, barely surviving, until he came upon a beautiful and verdant forest. There, he never went hungry, nor slept cold. It was a nice and wonderful place for him. Taken in by a tribe of ascetics devoted to Vine, Loduzzro was quickly brought to see the beauty of all things. However, unlike many who wandered the woods, he was not simply content to hide away and enjoy comforts while others in the outside world suffered as he once did, and so he set off once more to bring peace and justice to all. It is this noble goal that attracted him to the OAK.
By my knighthood I swear: Swear for do good. Help many. |
44,782 | 1,219 | 13 | 345 | 92 | Quill quite nearly laughed himself to death. Perhaps it was first the sight of the young man collapsing on the ground, but then it was most certainly the presence of the sloth. He was perhaps the most primal beastkind Quill had ever seen, even during the long stretches through Li Lian he'd never seen any so bestial. It was new, it was interesting, but above all else it was funny.
"I can only pray," Quill said, his voice a bit shaky from the laughter. "That such a man graces our Order. Oh I'm so happy I stayed I can't imagine what I'd have done had I missed that."
He wasn't normally fond of his own kind, the reputations he and others tended to garner were more often than not an inconvenience. Indeed he was impressed that the sloth, looking the way he did, was able to get through Silvercliff to the bastion in one piece. It didn't take much to set off the cruel curiosities in man, and beneath all of his amusement, Quill held an underlying pity for the sloth-y aspiring knight. It was quite a large amount of amusement however, and Quill was determined to learn more, for certainly such a man could not move through history unremembered. | Name: Quill
Gender: Up to speculation, often defaults to “he” but "she" is fairly frequent
Race: Beast
Age: Vaguely-Twenties
Title/Nickname: Jester Quill/Quill the Grin
Kingdom of birth: Even Quill doesn’t know the answer to this one. At some point he began to be passed off and off between various nomadic peoples. He’d gladly lie though, and say he’s from anywhere that suits him.
Worship: Quill purports to worship just about any god that suits the situation he’s in. He might praise one god for a joke, or blaspheme another to get a rise out of someone. Though he definitely believes they exist, he is not, personally, a big fan of any of them.
Appearance: Tall and thin, a wiry and feminine frame wrapped in a few layers of lean but practiced muscle. His hair is long and fluffy and fiery red, and two abnormally large hare-ears of the same color fall behind his head, a stark call to his bestial genes. His eyes are blue and icy, and it might be hard to stare at them for very long in the right light.
Though for the most part his clothes are light and flowing, two things Quill is never seen without are the overly-large-brimmed hat atop his head, and the grin that never seems to leave his face.
Magical affinity: Only Wind, but quite skilled with it.
Skills: For combat—Wind affinity, swift strikes, quick and agile.
Out of combat—Fairly good singer, silver-tongued, good storyteller
Equipment: Equipment: Quill’s weapon consists of two forms, a single-handed curved and notched blade, and a gnarled scythe. Often he wields the blade alone, and keeps the staff portion in its folded position at his side, but for the instances where he needs the extra reach, he can attach the blade to the end of the staff by its handle, locking it in place and extending the staff out into its full length. The wood, while scratched, neither splinters nor cracks, and the blade though weathered shows equal signs of integrity. Quill won’t say where he got the weapon, but it clearly isn’t his, its grim nature a contrast to his bright and jovial presented self.
Favorite spells: Presently, Quill’s affinity is used mostly for mobility. He tends to keep moving on the battlefield, preferring quick hit-and-run strikes and swift counters. Though he can to some extent deflect and/or propel objects with wind, most of his magical prowess is apparent in the mobility it offers.
Character background history: Quill is not fond of people, perhaps that’s why he’s a jester, –or was anyway– so that he could mock them openly without causing too much of a fuss. Born of the affair between a bestial and a human, Quill spent most of his early life transitioning from roaming group to roaming group, being raised by just about whoever could be arsed to do so until they grew tired of it, and shoved him along. He heard a lot of mockery for his appearance, and was called a “mutt” most places he went. In his early teens he spent a lot of time shadowing with gangs and street-clans.
Quill will never gives a straight or consistent answer as to how he learned to fight as he does. Though his stories often include being taught by a nomad called Sienne, sometimes they are a woman, others a man, sometimes a monster and sometimes a figment of his imagination. Whatever the case, everything between Quill’s earliest teenage years and the current time is a blur, and by now, Quill probably believes half the lies he tells about it anyway.
Whatever the case, his motives for joining the order are nearly as cloudy. He changes his answer a lot, but he’s more interested in what others’ reasons are, anyway. In fact, unless prompted, Quill seems to go out of his way to avoid being the topic of a conversation that doesn’t involve some kind of antic or another.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear To Enjoy This~ |
44,783 | 1,219 | 14 | 2,648 | 292 | Edward was waiting for his chosen warriors to appear in the grand entrance hall, standing stoically with his sword drawn and resting his hands on it in front of him. Sooner this ominous business with Hastuk was dealt with the better. He was pleased when he saw the first three walking up to him. Khar the marked champion had been breaking in their new squires by his special orders, harsh welcoming for younglings but better than training them softly to be impaled on orc spears.
"I hope I didn´t inconvenience you too much with my request. I have found that Li Lian style of combat complements central Sophitian style nicely, and is also useful to calm mind for casting."
Next Alexander Atreides strode up to him, Edward returned his nod.
"It is good to see you in the bastion again wanderer, all will be explained shortly in the war room."
Third in this group was Arthur of the Crestshield family. He knew he could trust this man but with relations hardening between knights and the crown, he wondered if Crestshield family was pressuring their son to take Kings side in this argument, he would ask about it later on.
He gave Arthur knights salute.
"Lionheart, I am glad to have your sword join us on this quest."
Then he heard voices shout something just outside. It didn´t seem like an alarm of any kind. Edward took off to open gates to courtyard, flanked on both sides by several knights of the order. When he did that, strange sight greeted him. There were three he knew and one he didn´t recognize. It seems that Lao Xijer had collapsed and been hoisted in the air by an beastman of most peculiar appearance. Edward directed his cohorts to take Lao.
"By Mother, what now? Call for sun essence healer! And bring food and wine also, that always seems to cheer Sir Metallum up."
He looked at the beastman, as peculiar as he was it was quite clear that he was affinity born, strong one too. Was he planning to join the order?
"You have my thanks stranger, I will see you are rewarded for tending to one of ours"
On the stairs he saw Quill the grin laughing uproariously in his usual fashion upon witnessing something that amused him. He/she was an strange man/woman to be an knight but Edward could see that Jesters heart was in the right place, he would stand bravely against the darkness. Beside him Edward saw familiar appearance of Admiral Tuyta, the men nodded to eachother in acknowledgement. Edward quite liked the old admiral, his boundless experience came useful time and time again. Also, men who were born with water affinity were quite rare, it was nice to converse with others who shared this gift. This was most excellent, most of the names on the list had been gathered in acceptable amount of time.
As he had a feeling that more were on their way he would give them the promised days time. Soon they would be gathering in the war room and begin briefing. If Hastuk was right, this mission was going to be no joke. | You are to become an initiate in the order of arcane knights!
Character sheet
Name:
Gender:
Race:
Age:
Title/Nickname:
Kingdom of birth: Where are you from? or are you an traveler born?
Worship: is your character an religious knight? If so, which god you elevate above the rest?
Appearance: what your character looks like? Pics allowed and even endorsed, no irl photos!
Magical affinity: 1-2 essences of magic that you feel most strongly drawn to. Magics cast from other essences are considerably weaker.
Skills: What is your character good at? put weapons and military training here if any.
Equipment: Tools to conquer an savage world. Put enchanted magitech here if you have any.
Favorite spells: Put some examples on How your character utilizes his affinities in combat.(You can always modify this later)
Character backround history: Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you came to join the order?
By my knighthood I swear: Just write "I SWEAR" in here to symbolize you agree to play nice with others and follow rulings set by GM. |
44,784 | 1,219 | 15 | 2,717 | 553 | As Loduzzro handed the knight off to the proper knight authorities, he heard the very official-sounding and looking stranger mention something about a reward. Loduzzro was instantly giddy, as he knew what reward he wanted. He wanted to be a knight, to protect the realm and all within it! That seemed like the kind of thing knights did. However, before he could vocalize his wishes, the stranger, who he deemed to be the chief of the strangers, had wandered off to speak to others. And so, Loduzzro meandered slowly behind him to make his wish known.
Before he knew it, (as Loduzzro thought at a very slow pace), he found himself standing in a grand hall of some sort, where many knights and soon-to-be-knights were assembled. though most of those assembled were humans, Loduzzro saw a few who differed, including a laughing beast man of some sort, though Loduzzro could not tell what animal he resembled. Perhaps some form of hyena? Hyenas were known to laugh. But that was again beside the point. He saw the chief-knight, the one that had thanked him, still moving towards the group of soon-to-be-knights. It was then that Loduzzro spoke up again.
"Big knight chief! I come for be a knight. Want join this order." his words were broken and a bit hard to understand, but his intention was clear. | Name: Loduzzro
Gender: Male
Race: Beastman (Pale-Throated Slothman)
Age: Relatively difficult to discern. Somewhere between teens and thirties.
Title/Nickname: The Simple, The Hair-Knight
Kingdom of birth: Loduzzro has wandered for all of his days, which he has not counted. He bears no kingdom.
Worship: Loduzzro, for all that can be discerned, worships Vine rather devoutly. His practices seem nonsensical and the prayers he offers are generally gibberish.
Magical affinity: Wood and Stone
Skills: Despite his gentle appearance and slow movement, Loduzzro is actually quite savage in battle. As well, he is quite adept with both Wood and Stone magicks, given his otherwise very simple nature, making him easily underestimated.
Equipment: Loduzzro's weapon is a large sequoia branch which he preserves with his wood magic. There are a number of sharp stones sticking out from the branch. He lacks any real armor, relying on his stone magic to protect his body in combat. He carries with him a sack of sweet fruits that he eats from.
Favorite spells: Loduzzro creates armor of stone to protect himself in combat, and uses his magic to "communicate" and co-ordinate nature such as trees into providing him favorable conditions.
Character background history: Born in the outskirts of the Li Lian, Loduzzro was a strange being from his first moments on this earth. His odd and unnatural appearance, even compared to most Beastfolk, made him an outcast from the very start. He wandered, lost and alone, barely surviving, until he came upon a beautiful and verdant forest. There, he never went hungry, nor slept cold. It was a nice and wonderful place for him. Taken in by a tribe of ascetics devoted to Vine, Loduzzro was quickly brought to see the beauty of all things. However, unlike many who wandered the woods, he was not simply content to hide away and enjoy comforts while others in the outside world suffered as he once did, and so he set off once more to bring peace and justice to all. It is this noble goal that attracted him to the OAK.
By my knighthood I swear: Swear for do good. Help many. |
44,785 | 1,219 | 16 | 1,404 | 5,009 | Lao Xijer
Lao had no idea how long his body hugged the cold concrete, but he really did not want to get up, the could concrete was comfortable. It was like when you just got on bed and the pillow was cold, refreshing. Despite the comfort, the need for food was killing him. "Foood..." Lao mumbled lazily, dragging his arm up towards the gate in an attempt to try and get food. Unfortunately, this attempt obviously failed, and Lao was left to lay were he was.
Suddenly, he was hoisted up into the air by an unknown figure. It was definitely something he had not seen before. It was furry, kind of tall, and smelled a bit, unusual, but Lao did not discriminate. Lao dangled weakly on the beasts arm and shoulder, to tired to struggle in anyway. Suddenly the beast yelled, in his head Lao jumped for joy, he was saved. "Food." Lao mumbled bleakly from were he lied.
Once again he was trust into a new pair of hands, this one human at least. He could faintly recognize a voice, but he could not figure out who it was. Despite that, he did here about the prospect of getting food, and wine, perfect. | Name:
Lao Xijer
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Age:
26
Title/Nickname:
Sir Metallum
Kingdom of birth:
Li Lian
Worship:
His family was a very religious family, as he grew up, he also learned about the gods. He and his family holds Vine above all else.
Magical affinity:
Metal
Lightning
Skills:
Metal Works- Lao grew up around a family of Metal workers. He loved it, the color of molten, the way he could mold it into anything he wanted. He followed his parents to work just so he could do it himself. His parents eventually allowed him to work with them, and he has had a few years of experience working with it. He has even had a chance to watch magitech being created.
Combat- After he was sent to school deeper into the ever folding lands of Li Lian. In this academy, he was thought Li Lian martial arts, and quickly become adept. He was also though swordsmanship, Li Lian swordsmanship training was different than other kingdoms. He expelled in this, and became third best swordsman in his class. But he really never enjoyed the fighting itself, he enjoyed the weapons that has used.
Battle Experience- During his time in this school, he had the opportunity to fight and hunt monsters.
Equipment:
Steel Plated Iron- He actually smithed this armor himself, under the supervision of his father. The arms and covered in yellow and blue cloth. The shoulder plate is claded in leather. This is a very durable piece of armor, and it actually has is signature somewhere on it.
Guangdao- Lao did not actually make this bit his father did. It was meant to be used for his own time in Military school, but he could never go. So when his son had the opportunity to go, his father have him the blade. Lao has kept the blade on the best condition that he could. Despite all that, he early uses this, he keeps it on his back almost all the time.
Chokutō: It had a black scabbard and matching hilt and is a larger size than a normal chokutō. It's been repeatedly shown to be very durable and able to cut through various materials. Lao forged this blade himself, and wears it on his waist, his signature his signature is somewhere on the scabbard.
Favorite spells:
If Lao is not using his Metal Affinity to craft of smith, he creates metal spikes and fires them and his enemies. If they lodge themselves in the enemy, once inside, bolts of electricity fire from within them. If the spikes don't, as they pass, bolts with still fire.
Character backround history:
On the surface, Lao comes off as a rather silly and lighthearted person, frequently engaging in comical behavior and retaining his oft-present grin even while making threats. He displays a childlike amusement for new situations whether or not they prove adverse or even potentially fatal, has a penchant for wandering off on his own only to collapse in the middle of a street. Even with all these idiosyncrasies, he is extremely personable and his particularly complimentary nature easily gains him the friendship and trust of those surrounding him.
Of course, these aspects belie the complex and determined young man underneath. On the reverse side of his frivolous nature is his considerable shrewdness, which makes him quite capable of reading people and situations. He is particularly observant, taking into consideration even the smallest details of his surroundings in order to better understand and deal with challenges and is not above using cheap tricks or questionable tactics to ensure his own survival. Being singularly ambitious, Lao also has a remarkably tenacious will that allows him to overcome virtually insurmountable obstacles and accept inhuman burdens for the sake of his ultimate goal. He has considerable pride that will not stand for having his humanity insulted or condemned by his enemies, but he is also capable of shelving his pride if it becomes something that will stand in the way of his objective.
Lao is very protective of his family and comrades, refusing to allow any harm to come to them and often deeming their safety more important than his own in spite of his own personal ambitions and goals. He has to be reminded several times that his own safety is something upon which many people depend and uses his loved ones as his primary motivation when all hope seems lost. As such, he becomes furious when observing those who willingly or remorselessly cast aside their own comrades or brethren and is sickened by the idea of superiors who reject their duty to those who trust them.
Lao was not born into the most noble of families. In fact, he was not born into a noble family. He was born into a smiting family, there money was modest, but nothing amazing. He loved working with metal, hour would watch his mother work, forming the metal into beautiful things. His mother and father were not born with an affinity, but Lao was. His parents saw this as an opportunity for him to become someone, so they sent him to the Li Lian Military Academy. He was thought many things and ended up graduating third in his class. It was not even a year after that he was sent to OAK, in all truth, he did not want to hunt beasts He would much rather tinkered than become a knight. But as he grew to learn of all the injustices in the world, the useless killing of all being in either world, he found a reason to become one.
By my knighthood I swear:
I SWEAR, ON DA SWORD OF KNIGHT HOOD AND WHATNOT!! |
44,786 | 1,219 | 17 | 2,433 | 529 | Khar just wanted to object that his fighting style was not really Li Lian when the whole spectacle began. "How can one be so weak that he can't even walk in here. A shame to call that man a knight.", were the words Khar choose. He hated weakness, and that was just a example of it. Many of the knights were weak in his opinion.
There were of course many he quite liked. The Admiral for example or the wanderer. Quill however was for Khar a jester and not a knight.
That however was beside the point. The one who carried Lao Xijer inside was a weird looking fellow. Khar knew plenty of beast kin, but none looked like the slothman. When the Grandmaster offered him a reward Khar quenched his fist. He did not think that was justified. When he heard what the slothman wanted he had to speak. "Do you think that is how you become a knight? Just carrying some weakling through this door? Being a knight means being one of the strongest fighters in the world!", he looked at Lao, "Or I thought it did." | Name: Khar
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 37
Title: The Marked Champion
Kingdom of birth: Born in Li Lian
Worship: Praying is for the weak. A man must fight his own battles.
Appearance:
Magical affinity: Khar's body is covered in Tattoos, always winding, always drawing themselves new. These Tattoos can however become reality, piercing, black like the night, out of his skin as whatever Khar desires.
Skills: Khar is an excellent fighter. He prefers bladed weapons from Li Lian. Through the years the one thing that kept him alive is his martial prowess and his magical tattoos, mostly the combination of these two. He might be middle-aged, but he still is in a peak physical condition. He also is incredibly skilled in unarmed combat, he might lack the grace of an Li Lian master but he makes up for it by being just as effective and twice as brutal.
Equipment: His Weapon, a few daggers, no armor. Armor is for the weak, slows one down.
Favorite spells: He likes to use his tattoos as chains, sprouting from his chest, trapping his enemy's. Also spikes and jaws in hand to hand combat.
Character background history: Born in Li Lian as the son to a silk farmer, Khar was unsatisfied. He joined a local gang in his youth. When he killed a son of some important feline folk he joined a mercenary company and left. He was 12 at that time. He learned to fight against monsters and warriors alike, earning his tattoos as payment for protecting a reclusive village. One day his company was hired to attack a small clan in the Jarl Tundra. The company got nearly completely wiped out by the surprisingly resilient clansmen. Khar was captured and the 18 year old was thrown in Guhraca, the infamous prison in the Tundra. For the next 14 years he fought for his live in the prison, becoming a champion in the pit fights and making an legend out of himself.
When he finally was set free as price for winning an battle royal he decided it was time to put his skills to use and search stronger fighters to train with. And who is stronger than the Knights?
By my knighthood I swear: I SWEAR BY THE ORDER! I WILL BREAK THEIR ENEMY'S! |
44,787 | 1,219 | 18 | 345 | 92 | It seemed as though it was time to move in. Quill could hear Edward's voice from outside, and, much more entertainingly, he saw Khar. Perhaps his favorite of the Order, at least as far as fun went. For a while he'd thought Khar just shared his distaste for people, but really what it came down to was much different. Khar was so serious, so proper about everything, and here yet again he displayed the very attitude that at first had had Quill backing away, but in the end had brought him back with vigor. What a fun man.
Quill bounded over, his performance voice tacked on. "Look, everyone look! A feat of strength not yet before seen on Sophitia!" he called, hands gesturing proudly to Khar. "Forget the miracles of Steel, bury the sayings of Sand, for here we have a new god among us! Our very own Khar has done the unthinkable, look fast and you might see it! Stand and bask, for he was born friends, and to this day still lives and fights, with a stick lodged firmly up his ass!"
He wasn't sure yet if he liked the slothman well enough to stand up for him, but one thing Quill would never pass up was a chance to poke a little fun at the grump. He laughed and skipped to the end of his little mock-performance, before actually coming to a rest within the great hall. A quick glance outside to see if the Admiral had followed, before his attention returned to the present. | Name: Quill
Gender: Up to speculation, often defaults to “he” but "she" is fairly frequent
Race: Beast
Age: Vaguely-Twenties
Title/Nickname: Jester Quill/Quill the Grin
Kingdom of birth: Even Quill doesn’t know the answer to this one. At some point he began to be passed off and off between various nomadic peoples. He’d gladly lie though, and say he’s from anywhere that suits him.
Worship: Quill purports to worship just about any god that suits the situation he’s in. He might praise one god for a joke, or blaspheme another to get a rise out of someone. Though he definitely believes they exist, he is not, personally, a big fan of any of them.
Appearance: Tall and thin, a wiry and feminine frame wrapped in a few layers of lean but practiced muscle. His hair is long and fluffy and fiery red, and two abnormally large hare-ears of the same color fall behind his head, a stark call to his bestial genes. His eyes are blue and icy, and it might be hard to stare at them for very long in the right light.
Though for the most part his clothes are light and flowing, two things Quill is never seen without are the overly-large-brimmed hat atop his head, and the grin that never seems to leave his face.
Magical affinity: Only Wind, but quite skilled with it.
Skills: For combat—Wind affinity, swift strikes, quick and agile.
Out of combat—Fairly good singer, silver-tongued, good storyteller
Equipment: Equipment: Quill’s weapon consists of two forms, a single-handed curved and notched blade, and a gnarled scythe. Often he wields the blade alone, and keeps the staff portion in its folded position at his side, but for the instances where he needs the extra reach, he can attach the blade to the end of the staff by its handle, locking it in place and extending the staff out into its full length. The wood, while scratched, neither splinters nor cracks, and the blade though weathered shows equal signs of integrity. Quill won’t say where he got the weapon, but it clearly isn’t his, its grim nature a contrast to his bright and jovial presented self.
Favorite spells: Presently, Quill’s affinity is used mostly for mobility. He tends to keep moving on the battlefield, preferring quick hit-and-run strikes and swift counters. Though he can to some extent deflect and/or propel objects with wind, most of his magical prowess is apparent in the mobility it offers.
Character background history: Quill is not fond of people, perhaps that’s why he’s a jester, –or was anyway– so that he could mock them openly without causing too much of a fuss. Born of the affair between a bestial and a human, Quill spent most of his early life transitioning from roaming group to roaming group, being raised by just about whoever could be arsed to do so until they grew tired of it, and shoved him along. He heard a lot of mockery for his appearance, and was called a “mutt” most places he went. In his early teens he spent a lot of time shadowing with gangs and street-clans.
Quill will never gives a straight or consistent answer as to how he learned to fight as he does. Though his stories often include being taught by a nomad called Sienne, sometimes they are a woman, others a man, sometimes a monster and sometimes a figment of his imagination. Whatever the case, everything between Quill’s earliest teenage years and the current time is a blur, and by now, Quill probably believes half the lies he tells about it anyway.
Whatever the case, his motives for joining the order are nearly as cloudy. He changes his answer a lot, but he’s more interested in what others’ reasons are, anyway. In fact, unless prompted, Quill seems to go out of his way to avoid being the topic of a conversation that doesn’t involve some kind of antic or another.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear To Enjoy This~ |
44,788 | 1,219 | 19 | 2,717 | 553 | Loduzzro stared for a brief moment, pondering. Had he not shown he was strong by carrying the knight as if he weighed nothing? Or did he mean that a knight had to be violent? Loduzzro was rather sure that wasn't the case, but who was he to disagree with this seasoned veteran.
"Am can be strong." and with that, he lifted the large branch that dragged behind him, holding it above his head. "Can lift this! And use for hitting." he brought it down again, cracking the stony floor around himself. | Name: Loduzzro
Gender: Male
Race: Beastman (Pale-Throated Slothman)
Age: Relatively difficult to discern. Somewhere between teens and thirties.
Title/Nickname: The Simple, The Hair-Knight
Kingdom of birth: Loduzzro has wandered for all of his days, which he has not counted. He bears no kingdom.
Worship: Loduzzro, for all that can be discerned, worships Vine rather devoutly. His practices seem nonsensical and the prayers he offers are generally gibberish.
Magical affinity: Wood and Stone
Skills: Despite his gentle appearance and slow movement, Loduzzro is actually quite savage in battle. As well, he is quite adept with both Wood and Stone magicks, given his otherwise very simple nature, making him easily underestimated.
Equipment: Loduzzro's weapon is a large sequoia branch which he preserves with his wood magic. There are a number of sharp stones sticking out from the branch. He lacks any real armor, relying on his stone magic to protect his body in combat. He carries with him a sack of sweet fruits that he eats from.
Favorite spells: Loduzzro creates armor of stone to protect himself in combat, and uses his magic to "communicate" and co-ordinate nature such as trees into providing him favorable conditions.
Character background history: Born in the outskirts of the Li Lian, Loduzzro was a strange being from his first moments on this earth. His odd and unnatural appearance, even compared to most Beastfolk, made him an outcast from the very start. He wandered, lost and alone, barely surviving, until he came upon a beautiful and verdant forest. There, he never went hungry, nor slept cold. It was a nice and wonderful place for him. Taken in by a tribe of ascetics devoted to Vine, Loduzzro was quickly brought to see the beauty of all things. However, unlike many who wandered the woods, he was not simply content to hide away and enjoy comforts while others in the outside world suffered as he once did, and so he set off once more to bring peace and justice to all. It is this noble goal that attracted him to the OAK.
By my knighthood I swear: Swear for do good. Help many. |
44,789 | 1,219 | 20 | 2,433 | 529 | Perhaps I should pull the stick out then and beat your head open with it. That way I could prove to everyone how empty it is., Khar did not like Quill on bit. He thought of himself as funny, being funny was of no use.
Khar then mustered the slothman as he smashed a gigantic branch on the floor, doing heavy damage. The warrior in Khar immediately analysed the movement. The stranger seemed pretty slow, but undoubtedly forceful. He also did not seem to be the brightest, but that was just a guess. Khar's opinion did not matter however since the Grandmaster had to approve him.
"I mean being a capable warrior.", he said to the sloth knight, "Brute force does not prove anything." | Name: Khar
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 37
Title: The Marked Champion
Kingdom of birth: Born in Li Lian
Worship: Praying is for the weak. A man must fight his own battles.
Appearance:
Magical affinity: Khar's body is covered in Tattoos, always winding, always drawing themselves new. These Tattoos can however become reality, piercing, black like the night, out of his skin as whatever Khar desires.
Skills: Khar is an excellent fighter. He prefers bladed weapons from Li Lian. Through the years the one thing that kept him alive is his martial prowess and his magical tattoos, mostly the combination of these two. He might be middle-aged, but he still is in a peak physical condition. He also is incredibly skilled in unarmed combat, he might lack the grace of an Li Lian master but he makes up for it by being just as effective and twice as brutal.
Equipment: His Weapon, a few daggers, no armor. Armor is for the weak, slows one down.
Favorite spells: He likes to use his tattoos as chains, sprouting from his chest, trapping his enemy's. Also spikes and jaws in hand to hand combat.
Character background history: Born in Li Lian as the son to a silk farmer, Khar was unsatisfied. He joined a local gang in his youth. When he killed a son of some important feline folk he joined a mercenary company and left. He was 12 at that time. He learned to fight against monsters and warriors alike, earning his tattoos as payment for protecting a reclusive village. One day his company was hired to attack a small clan in the Jarl Tundra. The company got nearly completely wiped out by the surprisingly resilient clansmen. Khar was captured and the 18 year old was thrown in Guhraca, the infamous prison in the Tundra. For the next 14 years he fought for his live in the prison, becoming a champion in the pit fights and making an legend out of himself.
When he finally was set free as price for winning an battle royal he decided it was time to put his skills to use and search stronger fighters to train with. And who is stronger than the Knights?
By my knighthood I swear: I SWEAR BY THE ORDER! I WILL BREAK THEIR ENEMY'S! |
44,790 | 1,219 | 21 | 345 | 92 | Yes yes, big man, listen to him, Quill said, breezing right on through their little conversation. "I'm not so sure about 'force' but Khar here certainly knows a thing or two about 'brute'! Honestly people this is what's wrong with Li Lian upbringings, so strict and mean. Poor Khar here can probably count on one hand the number of hugs he's gotten."
He settled his hands on his hips, attention still arrested by the giant slothman, and gave Khar an absent wave, as if to dismiss what he'd said. "But in all seriousness, grumpy, good to have you back, glad you made the trip!" | Name: Quill
Gender: Up to speculation, often defaults to “he” but "she" is fairly frequent
Race: Beast
Age: Vaguely-Twenties
Title/Nickname: Jester Quill/Quill the Grin
Kingdom of birth: Even Quill doesn’t know the answer to this one. At some point he began to be passed off and off between various nomadic peoples. He’d gladly lie though, and say he’s from anywhere that suits him.
Worship: Quill purports to worship just about any god that suits the situation he’s in. He might praise one god for a joke, or blaspheme another to get a rise out of someone. Though he definitely believes they exist, he is not, personally, a big fan of any of them.
Appearance: Tall and thin, a wiry and feminine frame wrapped in a few layers of lean but practiced muscle. His hair is long and fluffy and fiery red, and two abnormally large hare-ears of the same color fall behind his head, a stark call to his bestial genes. His eyes are blue and icy, and it might be hard to stare at them for very long in the right light.
Though for the most part his clothes are light and flowing, two things Quill is never seen without are the overly-large-brimmed hat atop his head, and the grin that never seems to leave his face.
Magical affinity: Only Wind, but quite skilled with it.
Skills: For combat—Wind affinity, swift strikes, quick and agile.
Out of combat—Fairly good singer, silver-tongued, good storyteller
Equipment: Equipment: Quill’s weapon consists of two forms, a single-handed curved and notched blade, and a gnarled scythe. Often he wields the blade alone, and keeps the staff portion in its folded position at his side, but for the instances where he needs the extra reach, he can attach the blade to the end of the staff by its handle, locking it in place and extending the staff out into its full length. The wood, while scratched, neither splinters nor cracks, and the blade though weathered shows equal signs of integrity. Quill won’t say where he got the weapon, but it clearly isn’t his, its grim nature a contrast to his bright and jovial presented self.
Favorite spells: Presently, Quill’s affinity is used mostly for mobility. He tends to keep moving on the battlefield, preferring quick hit-and-run strikes and swift counters. Though he can to some extent deflect and/or propel objects with wind, most of his magical prowess is apparent in the mobility it offers.
Character background history: Quill is not fond of people, perhaps that’s why he’s a jester, –or was anyway– so that he could mock them openly without causing too much of a fuss. Born of the affair between a bestial and a human, Quill spent most of his early life transitioning from roaming group to roaming group, being raised by just about whoever could be arsed to do so until they grew tired of it, and shoved him along. He heard a lot of mockery for his appearance, and was called a “mutt” most places he went. In his early teens he spent a lot of time shadowing with gangs and street-clans.
Quill will never gives a straight or consistent answer as to how he learned to fight as he does. Though his stories often include being taught by a nomad called Sienne, sometimes they are a woman, others a man, sometimes a monster and sometimes a figment of his imagination. Whatever the case, everything between Quill’s earliest teenage years and the current time is a blur, and by now, Quill probably believes half the lies he tells about it anyway.
Whatever the case, his motives for joining the order are nearly as cloudy. He changes his answer a lot, but he’s more interested in what others’ reasons are, anyway. In fact, unless prompted, Quill seems to go out of his way to avoid being the topic of a conversation that doesn’t involve some kind of antic or another.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear To Enjoy This~ |
44,791 | 1,219 | 22 | 2,648 | 292 | Oh, for Mothers sake. Knights please! hold your tempers!
Edward felt he had to intervene before all assembled started duelling one another, such events had happened before.
He assessed the situation for a bit. In his mind the order had two purposes, first and foremost to guard all of Sophitia indiscriminately and secondly to guide affinity born on the right track. Khar had made good points but this sloths powers could be useful to the order, maybe an test of sorts?
"While Khar maybe a bit crude in his expression he speaks truth. I fear I cannot knight you here on the spot. HOWEVER, I will give you an chance to prove yourself. Should you wish, you can join us on our upcoming journey where many will trust you to do your part, prove worthy of our trust and knighthood will be your reward." | You are to become an initiate in the order of arcane knights!
Character sheet
Name:
Gender:
Race:
Age:
Title/Nickname:
Kingdom of birth: Where are you from? or are you an traveler born?
Worship: is your character an religious knight? If so, which god you elevate above the rest?
Appearance: what your character looks like? Pics allowed and even endorsed, no irl photos!
Magical affinity: 1-2 essences of magic that you feel most strongly drawn to. Magics cast from other essences are considerably weaker.
Skills: What is your character good at? put weapons and military training here if any.
Equipment: Tools to conquer an savage world. Put enchanted magitech here if you have any.
Favorite spells: Put some examples on How your character utilizes his affinities in combat.(You can always modify this later)
Character backround history: Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you came to join the order?
By my knighthood I swear: Just write "I SWEAR" in here to symbolize you agree to play nice with others and follow rulings set by GM. |
44,792 | 1,219 | 23 | 1,602 | 2,499 | Tuyta made his way up the steps and into the great hall. He was almost in before he heard a thump and turned to see a fellow knight had fallen face first onto the ground and some sort of sloth monster was helping him up. He rubbed his temples while puffing smoke from his pipe. If this was his team he'd have the headstone maker start now. He watched Edward, the leader of the group attempt to break up a small fight between the Sloth and someone who looked to have been from the east. Tuyta just laughed. He made his way into the great hall, puffing away on his pipe as he did. | Name: Tuyta
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 45
Title/Nickname: Admiral Tuyta
Kingdom of birth: Originally born in the Jarl Tundra, but quickly moved to a small village near Silvercliff after his birth.
Worship: Worships steel somewhat, but not devoutly. More like a small belief in him.
Magical affinity: Water, Ice
Skills: What is your character good at? put weapons and military training here if any.
Tuyta has an engrossing amount of experience on the high seas. He is an excellent ship captain and knows how to keep cool under pressure. He is extremely experienced with his long cutlass and is known for fighting without a shield.
Equipment: Tools to conquer an savage world. Put enchanted magitech here if you have any.
-His specially made 'Long Cutlass' named 'Tidehunter'. Essentially a cutlass but extended in length and slightly bigger in the actual size of the blade.
-One canteen
-Enough 'Dosh' as he calls it to last him for about four weeks in a relatively good inn.
Favorite spells:
Tuyta's spells mostly involve getting his enemies wet enough to freeze them or knocking them over with the sheer force of water.
Character backround history:
Tuyta was born to a trader family in the icy Jarl Tundra. His family had traded there under the presumption that because no one ever went to trade with a chieftain they would be able to trade with them and in return charge much higher prices. They were, of course, wrong. The chieftains practically killed them as soon as they were spotted and they barely escaped with their lives. Taking a pregnant woman to a camp filled probably wasn't the best decision in hindsight. They quickly returned to Silvercliff, but were at a loss to do now as it was too dangerous to take a mere baby on the roads with them.
They eventually settled with living on Tuyta's grandfathers farm, where Tuyta was raised. Tuyta's upbringing was hard. He woke up at 6am every day to help with his farm duties and went to his 'school' immediately after finishing work. His 'school' was essentially his grandmother teaching him how to read and write every day up until his twelfth birthday. It was at this point that he discovered his true calling in life, the high seas.
He was sent out into Silvercliff in order to buy more grain to expand the farm with. He stumbled upon a military parade while doing this, including Silvercliff's navy. He saw the men in their uniforms, with their swords and their medals and it inspired him. He ran to the docks in an effort to see their grand ships. Unfortunately, only the smaller ships were there, but nonetheless he was awestruck by them. He travelled home that night a bit later than usual, and his family took notice. They enquired as to why he was so late, and he explained that he had seen the most amazing thing he'd ever seen in his life, and that when he was of age he'd join the navy and eventually buy his own ship. His family didn't approve, they wanted him to follow in their trades of farming or trading. Tuyta didn't care though, he was set on joining the navy.
And that's just what he did. On the eve of his sixteenth birthday, Tuyta applied for the navy and was accepted in the week later. He said farewell to his family and was shipped of to training, if you'll pardon the pun. The training regime was harsh and strict, but it was what was needed in order to produce a navy that wouldn't turn tail and run at every battle. He was eventually placed on a ship as one of the crew under Captain Briches. Briches took a shine to Tuyta and gradually promoted him up the ship over the course of 3 years until the point where he was first mate. Briches taught Tuyta everything he knew, which included everything he knew about combat and of course, the monsters that plagued the depths.
Surprisingly, there were very few monsters that appeared during Tuyta's six years as a first mate. Now and then they'd encounter a 'small' monster seeking to tear the ship in half, but these were usually taken care of using a cannon or two. It was only when Tuyta became the captain of his own ship that he encountered his most determined and difficult foe to that day. He was made a captain after Briches had recommended him to one of the admirals at the time. The admiral took note of Tuytas skill and when a new ship was free he was put in charge of said ship. He was set to patrol the outer rim of the Silvercliff territory, probably the most monster infested area within Silvercliff. The first few encounters were easily dealt with, any that actually managed to make it on board where slain by the joint effort of the crew. But there was one monster that kept coming back, one Tuyta would affectionately name 'Barnacle'. Barnacle became stronger and stronger every time he returned, to the point where he had actually concaved the middle of the upper deck and gave Tuyta the scar that rests upon his forehead. Tuyta realised something had to be done and he commissioned a special sword used to combat Barnacle while his ship was being repaired. He named his new sword 'Tidehunter' and set out to find and slay barnacle.
Barnacle appeared soon enough and after a lengthy struggle on the deck of the ship he was finally slain. Tuyta dismembered and beheaded Barnacle before bringing him back to the mainland and selling his meat to whomever would buy it. Barnacle never came back. Tuyta commanded his ships along the out regions until he was about 30. At this point he was recognized for his efforts in stopping any of the monsters from reaching the mainland or even the shores of Silvercliff. He was given a second ship to command, and then a third, and then a fourth, this eventually grew into a fleet that he commanded solely. He still patrolled the outer rim, but had a big influence on any wars and any naval operations going on. He grew in reputation and respect over the years, eventually retiring when he was 40. He planned to retire to a farm, like his grandfather and spend the rest of his days detached from the world. But he quickly grew impatient and restless. He was eager to jump back into the fray and get some danger back into his life. Luckily, he was sought out by Edward Kind and recruited into the Order of Arcane Knights.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear |
44,793 | 1,219 | 24 | 2,717 | 553 | Loduzzro looked at the chief-knight figure, then at the one called "Car", then at the funny beast man who said the thing about sticks, though it had confused Loduzzro, then back at the chief-knight. He pondered this offer for a moment. Go with the knights, help them with their knight problems, and become a knight? It sounded almost too good to be true! Loduzzro, however, was not thinking in terms of anything being 'too good to be true'. All he cared to remember was the bit about being rewarded with knighthood. It was perfect!
"Okay, chief knight man. Loduzzro help for mission." He clumsily attempted to introduce himself at the same time as he accepted the offer. In an effort to make good on his promise, he reached into the poorly-sewn bag that dangled from his waist, and drew a bright red fruit. "Am useful, give you fruit." he held out the fruit to nobody in particular, as if to prove that he had not been lying. | Name: Loduzzro
Gender: Male
Race: Beastman (Pale-Throated Slothman)
Age: Relatively difficult to discern. Somewhere between teens and thirties.
Title/Nickname: The Simple, The Hair-Knight
Kingdom of birth: Loduzzro has wandered for all of his days, which he has not counted. He bears no kingdom.
Worship: Loduzzro, for all that can be discerned, worships Vine rather devoutly. His practices seem nonsensical and the prayers he offers are generally gibberish.
Magical affinity: Wood and Stone
Skills: Despite his gentle appearance and slow movement, Loduzzro is actually quite savage in battle. As well, he is quite adept with both Wood and Stone magicks, given his otherwise very simple nature, making him easily underestimated.
Equipment: Loduzzro's weapon is a large sequoia branch which he preserves with his wood magic. There are a number of sharp stones sticking out from the branch. He lacks any real armor, relying on his stone magic to protect his body in combat. He carries with him a sack of sweet fruits that he eats from.
Favorite spells: Loduzzro creates armor of stone to protect himself in combat, and uses his magic to "communicate" and co-ordinate nature such as trees into providing him favorable conditions.
Character background history: Born in the outskirts of the Li Lian, Loduzzro was a strange being from his first moments on this earth. His odd and unnatural appearance, even compared to most Beastfolk, made him an outcast from the very start. He wandered, lost and alone, barely surviving, until he came upon a beautiful and verdant forest. There, he never went hungry, nor slept cold. It was a nice and wonderful place for him. Taken in by a tribe of ascetics devoted to Vine, Loduzzro was quickly brought to see the beauty of all things. However, unlike many who wandered the woods, he was not simply content to hide away and enjoy comforts while others in the outside world suffered as he once did, and so he set off once more to bring peace and justice to all. It is this noble goal that attracted him to the OAK.
By my knighthood I swear: Swear for do good. Help many. |
44,794 | 1,219 | 25 | 459 | 87 | Arthur reached the grand entrance along with two others and saw Edwards waiting for them, he spoke to the other two before directing his attention to Arthur with a salute first and then spoke, "Lionheart, I am glad to have your sword join us on this quest."
Arthur, without missing a beat retorted "You are glad to have my sword but what about me?" He joked, he usually was not one for jokes but when the opportunity arrived he took it.
Soon other Knights began to arrive, one that particularly took his eye was not a knight but was carrying one. The way he spoke made Arthur quite fond of him, gentle was the word that came to mind.
He watched as the stranger dragged a large branch and lifted it into the air before slamming down on to the ground causing floor to crack around it.
Gentle was no longer the word that came to mind.
He was attempting to prove himself to Khar, but Khar was right, he may not have been capable, if anything Arthur now thought he would be more of a danger. Yet, he said nothing, it was not for him to judge. Neither was it for Khar or Quill who were beginning to argue, very unbecoming of a Knight. A popular opinion of Knights that Arthur had heard was that they were so noble, brave and above all else they were strong together because of a bond of knighthood they share, if anyone was to see them now, they would think otherwise.
Arthur returned his attention back to Grandmaster Edward, so this stranger with no name had been granted the privilege of joining them on their journey. Speaking of which, the messenger had stated the assignment they were all summoned for was urgent and of the utter most importance, why was the Grandmaster allowing someone untrained to accompany them? | Name: Yeldar Dragonhelm the Younger
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Age: 78
Title/Nickname: Lovingly given the nickname "Junior", by his clan, Yeldar the Younger has been known as "Sir Junior" ever since joining the Order.
Kingdom of birth: Hailing from the Dwarven citadel of Dragonhelm, underneath the Greybark ridge to the northeast, Yeldar has been a legal resident of Silvercliff for almost 7 years.
Worship: Along with all members of the Dragonhelm clan, Yeldar honors and seeks guidance from his deceased ancestors. He keeps a carving of his 7th-great grandmother in his pack, in case he ever needs to ask a question.
Magical affinity: Lightning (Active combat) and Fire (Enchanting).
Skills:
Years of combat training and experience from fighting the endless battle for the halls of Dragonhelm. Yeldar's particular style of fighting involves staying at a distance and destroying or at least putting multiple holes in whatever he faces. If it should come to close quarters, he relies on the use of his Shock spell or simply crushes his opponent in classic dwarven bear-hug style.
Yeldar is also skilled in metal craftsmanship, diplomacy, and trade, with a shrewd eye and an even better memory.
Equipment: Yeldar carries only one artifact, a six-shot pistol built by his great-uncle. Rather than utilising the inefficient and easily-damaged blasting powder common to bandits and other hopeful gunmen, this weapon uses a special semi-arcane blend called Dragonfire to propel its projectiles. Dragonfire generates enough speed for the steel bullets to easily pierce leather and chain armor, and if properly aimed, even through steel plate. Aided by Yeldar's spells, his bullets are enchanted to more devestating effect, able to explode and deal additional damage to armored targets.
The dwarf's pack contains other equipment necessary for journeying and survival: Flint and tinder, food, maps, skinning knife, cooking pots, and a simple first-aid kit. While not carrying a great deal of money on his person, he can often write a traders note to the local merchant's guilds in return for the local currency.
(Merchants traveling to Dragonhelm can then redeem the trader's note for more than its face value. Many guilds take this as a form of investment, especially if the signature on the note has good credit.)
Favorite spells:
Shock: Using his Lightning affinity, Yeldar casts short-range or direct contact arcs of electricity to stun or injure opponents who get close. Increasing the range on this spell requires more effort, so Yeldar prefers to use the more-effective pistol when able.
Heated Bullet: Casting short-duration enchantments on his bullets, Yeldar can cause them to superheat on impact with the target, either exploding or burning holes through the enemy. This is also effecting for clearing barriers, disrupting combat, and signalling.
Character backround history:
Born the youngest son of the Dragonhelm clan chief, Yeldar the Younger would have to force his way through all 17 of his older siblings to have a shot at the council head. Not that he didn't think about it a few times, especially after a long night of teasing and alcohol, Yeldar loved his family too much to ever try for the position. Instead, he followed 5 of his brothers into military training for a few dozen years, had a brief stint as merchant for another 18, then opened up a silversmith shop in Silvercliff for a few years. Hearing word of the Order, and feeling the call for adventure once more, Yeldar sold his shop to a cousin and moved to the capital to join The Order of Arcane Knights.
By my knighthood I swear: "I swear, on my grand-father's grave, that I will uphold the code, banner, and laws of the Order of Arcane Knights."
Other: Yeldar is very wealthy, due to his past as a trader and silversmith, but keeps all of his money stored at his family's home in Dragonhelm. As stated above, he uses trader's notes to obtain local currency, but this can backfire if the local guild refuses his note. |
44,795 | 1,219 | 26 | 2,648 | 292 | Though not everyone had yet arrived at the bastion (had he been too demanding of the young messenger?) Edward decided it was time. He raised his gauntleted hand in the air and proclaimed:
"Knights! If you´d follow me please."
As usual, Edward spoke with manner of kind words with a tone however that expected to be obeyed. As he turned to walk deeper into arcane bastion he hailed the guards at the outer door.
"If anyone on this list comes looking for me, or Lao wakes up, direct them into the war room, keep the doors open."
He handed an small rolled parchment to one of the guards and ventured onward.
He and those following him entered firstly into the great hall and even further straight into an large atrium of sorts, this was the war room. It had no chairs to relax in for matters discussed here usually demanded full attention of participants. Its walls were laden with weapons of orders founders as well as trophies from vanquished foes. In the middle of the room was an huge map of known Sophitia carved beautifully from oak wood, it shimmered ever so slightly as it was enchanted to display information of varying types when it was needed to.
Edward took his place on far side of map table looking over it at his assembled knights.
"Without further delay, we are riding to western Silvercliff, near Al Zidoan borders rises an mountain known as Sunfang. We are to perform an assault, of sorts, on that very mountain."
He let his words sink in for a while, as it was known that fighting monsters on their home territory was extremely dangerous.
"As most of you have probably suspected, there is more to this one than mere monster hunting, so Ill let the man who requested this operation tell you the rest."
With an flash of heat and swirl of sand, Hastuk the unseen appeared next to Edward, overlooking the map table.
"Greetings and Sands blessings knights, you have been chosen and summoned here by your grand master to partake in operation that will prove vital to survival of Sophitia. As those of you with eyes to the world know, Silvercliff and Al Zidoa are commencing negotiations for an military alliance in few weeks time consummated with an royal wedding. This alliance however has been in planning for much longer in fact, two years to be precise. Two years ago when I was tasked by an certain man within the sultanate to slaughter the whole of Silvercliffs peace convoy, as I felt this was against the will of Sand I refused. He must have suspected that be my answer from the start. As I turned to leave the palace I was assailed by another clan of assassins, Viper clan, misguided group of fools who think they know the will of Sand better than us at the Silent Scorpion clan. However misguided they are, their martial and arcane prowess is deadly, driven with fanatical purpose. After teaching them a thing or two in Al Zidoan swordsmanship I was forced to retreat, wounded, to Silvercliff.
From then on I have kept my eye on the movement of Viper clan, as elusive as they are I have found an lead. They have an outpost on the Sunfang mountain from where they can quickly send operatives into both nations as needed."
Here Edward paused Hastuk, believing he had made his point.
"With new attempt at negotiations we have every cause to believe that these vermin are planning something to spark an all out war between two great nations, we have to take initiative here, if civilizations of Sophitia start duking it out between themselves, we could all fall prey to ravages of monsters. We shall ride within few hours time to Sunfang, locate Vipers stronghold and raze it to the ground!"
Hastuk replied.
"AFTER we find out what exactly Viper is planning next. So, questions anyone?" | You are to become an initiate in the order of arcane knights!
Character sheet
Name:
Gender:
Race:
Age:
Title/Nickname:
Kingdom of birth: Where are you from? or are you an traveler born?
Worship: is your character an religious knight? If so, which god you elevate above the rest?
Appearance: what your character looks like? Pics allowed and even endorsed, no irl photos!
Magical affinity: 1-2 essences of magic that you feel most strongly drawn to. Magics cast from other essences are considerably weaker.
Skills: What is your character good at? put weapons and military training here if any.
Equipment: Tools to conquer an savage world. Put enchanted magitech here if you have any.
Favorite spells: Put some examples on How your character utilizes his affinities in combat.(You can always modify this later)
Character backround history: Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you came to join the order?
By my knighthood I swear: Just write "I SWEAR" in here to symbolize you agree to play nice with others and follow rulings set by GM. |
44,796 | 1,219 | 27 | 345 | 92 | They got to visit the mountains and kill people? Quill could hardly believe his luck, was it his birthday? He cared little about politics, the unity and calamity of nations, but keeping up with them did occasionally offer these kinds of benefits. Hunting monsters was all well and good, integral even, to the foundations of the order, but Quill loved when they got to to handle these sorts of things. It helped shed light on how dangerous people were to themselves, on top of the monster threat, there would always be humanity and company to wage some war or another.
"One here, yes, a question," Quill proclaimed, hand in the air. "Now, I'm with you one-hundred percent, sandy-man, raze the Vipers, spill the blood, love it sounds like fun. But, with that goal in mind, do we have an actual plan or are we in a more improvising mood? I'm good either way really, happy to come along plan or not." | Name: Quill
Gender: Up to speculation, often defaults to “he” but "she" is fairly frequent
Race: Beast
Age: Vaguely-Twenties
Title/Nickname: Jester Quill/Quill the Grin
Kingdom of birth: Even Quill doesn’t know the answer to this one. At some point he began to be passed off and off between various nomadic peoples. He’d gladly lie though, and say he’s from anywhere that suits him.
Worship: Quill purports to worship just about any god that suits the situation he’s in. He might praise one god for a joke, or blaspheme another to get a rise out of someone. Though he definitely believes they exist, he is not, personally, a big fan of any of them.
Appearance: Tall and thin, a wiry and feminine frame wrapped in a few layers of lean but practiced muscle. His hair is long and fluffy and fiery red, and two abnormally large hare-ears of the same color fall behind his head, a stark call to his bestial genes. His eyes are blue and icy, and it might be hard to stare at them for very long in the right light.
Though for the most part his clothes are light and flowing, two things Quill is never seen without are the overly-large-brimmed hat atop his head, and the grin that never seems to leave his face.
Magical affinity: Only Wind, but quite skilled with it.
Skills: For combat—Wind affinity, swift strikes, quick and agile.
Out of combat—Fairly good singer, silver-tongued, good storyteller
Equipment: Equipment: Quill’s weapon consists of two forms, a single-handed curved and notched blade, and a gnarled scythe. Often he wields the blade alone, and keeps the staff portion in its folded position at his side, but for the instances where he needs the extra reach, he can attach the blade to the end of the staff by its handle, locking it in place and extending the staff out into its full length. The wood, while scratched, neither splinters nor cracks, and the blade though weathered shows equal signs of integrity. Quill won’t say where he got the weapon, but it clearly isn’t his, its grim nature a contrast to his bright and jovial presented self.
Favorite spells: Presently, Quill’s affinity is used mostly for mobility. He tends to keep moving on the battlefield, preferring quick hit-and-run strikes and swift counters. Though he can to some extent deflect and/or propel objects with wind, most of his magical prowess is apparent in the mobility it offers.
Character background history: Quill is not fond of people, perhaps that’s why he’s a jester, –or was anyway– so that he could mock them openly without causing too much of a fuss. Born of the affair between a bestial and a human, Quill spent most of his early life transitioning from roaming group to roaming group, being raised by just about whoever could be arsed to do so until they grew tired of it, and shoved him along. He heard a lot of mockery for his appearance, and was called a “mutt” most places he went. In his early teens he spent a lot of time shadowing with gangs and street-clans.
Quill will never gives a straight or consistent answer as to how he learned to fight as he does. Though his stories often include being taught by a nomad called Sienne, sometimes they are a woman, others a man, sometimes a monster and sometimes a figment of his imagination. Whatever the case, everything between Quill’s earliest teenage years and the current time is a blur, and by now, Quill probably believes half the lies he tells about it anyway.
Whatever the case, his motives for joining the order are nearly as cloudy. He changes his answer a lot, but he’s more interested in what others’ reasons are, anyway. In fact, unless prompted, Quill seems to go out of his way to avoid being the topic of a conversation that doesn’t involve some kind of antic or another.
By my knighthood I swear: I Swear To Enjoy This~ |
44,797 | 1,219 | 28 | 2,717 | 553 | A light went on in Loduzzro's head as he heard the plan. It was a very dim light, but it was still there. An idea. If these strange monk-men were living in the mountains, carrying out attacks, surely there were casualties. And if there were casualties, surely there was a need for new membership. "Am have idea for how get good information." Loduzzro's words echoed a bit, like the songs of a forlorn whale. "Maybe I go for pretend be Viper man, learn plan and signal for attack." He was very confident in this poorly thought out, half formed plan.
Realizing none of the knights had taken the fruit from his hand, he held it up. "Offer this as joining fee, maybe. Is good fruit." | Name: Loduzzro
Gender: Male
Race: Beastman (Pale-Throated Slothman)
Age: Relatively difficult to discern. Somewhere between teens and thirties.
Title/Nickname: The Simple, The Hair-Knight
Kingdom of birth: Loduzzro has wandered for all of his days, which he has not counted. He bears no kingdom.
Worship: Loduzzro, for all that can be discerned, worships Vine rather devoutly. His practices seem nonsensical and the prayers he offers are generally gibberish.
Magical affinity: Wood and Stone
Skills: Despite his gentle appearance and slow movement, Loduzzro is actually quite savage in battle. As well, he is quite adept with both Wood and Stone magicks, given his otherwise very simple nature, making him easily underestimated.
Equipment: Loduzzro's weapon is a large sequoia branch which he preserves with his wood magic. There are a number of sharp stones sticking out from the branch. He lacks any real armor, relying on his stone magic to protect his body in combat. He carries with him a sack of sweet fruits that he eats from.
Favorite spells: Loduzzro creates armor of stone to protect himself in combat, and uses his magic to "communicate" and co-ordinate nature such as trees into providing him favorable conditions.
Character background history: Born in the outskirts of the Li Lian, Loduzzro was a strange being from his first moments on this earth. His odd and unnatural appearance, even compared to most Beastfolk, made him an outcast from the very start. He wandered, lost and alone, barely surviving, until he came upon a beautiful and verdant forest. There, he never went hungry, nor slept cold. It was a nice and wonderful place for him. Taken in by a tribe of ascetics devoted to Vine, Loduzzro was quickly brought to see the beauty of all things. However, unlike many who wandered the woods, he was not simply content to hide away and enjoy comforts while others in the outside world suffered as he once did, and so he set off once more to bring peace and justice to all. It is this noble goal that attracted him to the OAK.
By my knighthood I swear: Swear for do good. Help many. |
44,798 | 1,219 | 29 | 1,404 | 5,009 | Lao Xijer
Lao's lunch break ended as quickly as it started. He had ate hundreds of plates worth of food, anyone who had to clean them all was up for a challenge. Lao wiped his mouth stood up from the table, he was not here to eat, but he was called here on urgent business. Lao glanced at the lady servant who had graciously brought him all his food and smiled. "Thanks, oh and give my second thanks to the chef." He said as he waved and walked out of the dining room. The servant simply bowed and started to gather the discarded plates that were left on the table.
Lao was directed to the War room, and made it inside just as the explanation begin. So 2 of the many kingdom were discussing thr possibility of a military alliance through royal marriage. It was the generic thing that almost every kingdom did to make sure they were safe in the end. Allegedly, this man was sent to kill the convoy that started the negotiations. He refused, but was attacked by a group of strong assassins. He escaped, and know he know where they are located.
Lao was perplexed, why would this man see it fit to kill them. If they went around hunting every single assassin they could find, they would be dead within a week. But if they were planning to incite a war, then it made sense that they would have to destroy them. Anyone who wanted to destroy the relative peace that they lived in, Lao despised them. The questions wetr the ones that were starting the perplex him. In all seriousness, why plan, what were they gonna do, plan out some elaborate scheme to fight assassins, didn't make much sense to him. "Formulating a plan to fight trained assassins does not make much sense to me, they won't hide from us, and if there do, we find them." He simply with a smile on his face. "But, if a plan in truly needed, I believe I have one." He said quickly. "Trying to fight them in an environment that they are familiar with may be dangerous. A group of use should lead them way, while another infiltrates there hold, the plans may be inside." He said scratching his check throughout most of the explanation. "We should probably use, Hastuk to draw them out, have him lead them to use, and we fight!" He proclaimed. This was only one of the many plans he had in his head, but this one seemed to be the best of them all, or better then the furry beast man's. | Name:
Lao Xijer
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Age:
26
Title/Nickname:
Sir Metallum
Kingdom of birth:
Li Lian
Worship:
His family was a very religious family, as he grew up, he also learned about the gods. He and his family holds Vine above all else.
Magical affinity:
Metal
Lightning
Skills:
Metal Works- Lao grew up around a family of Metal workers. He loved it, the color of molten, the way he could mold it into anything he wanted. He followed his parents to work just so he could do it himself. His parents eventually allowed him to work with them, and he has had a few years of experience working with it. He has even had a chance to watch magitech being created.
Combat- After he was sent to school deeper into the ever folding lands of Li Lian. In this academy, he was thought Li Lian martial arts, and quickly become adept. He was also though swordsmanship, Li Lian swordsmanship training was different than other kingdoms. He expelled in this, and became third best swordsman in his class. But he really never enjoyed the fighting itself, he enjoyed the weapons that has used.
Battle Experience- During his time in this school, he had the opportunity to fight and hunt monsters.
Equipment:
Steel Plated Iron- He actually smithed this armor himself, under the supervision of his father. The arms and covered in yellow and blue cloth. The shoulder plate is claded in leather. This is a very durable piece of armor, and it actually has is signature somewhere on it.
Guangdao- Lao did not actually make this bit his father did. It was meant to be used for his own time in Military school, but he could never go. So when his son had the opportunity to go, his father have him the blade. Lao has kept the blade on the best condition that he could. Despite all that, he early uses this, he keeps it on his back almost all the time.
Chokutō: It had a black scabbard and matching hilt and is a larger size than a normal chokutō. It's been repeatedly shown to be very durable and able to cut through various materials. Lao forged this blade himself, and wears it on his waist, his signature his signature is somewhere on the scabbard.
Favorite spells:
If Lao is not using his Metal Affinity to craft of smith, he creates metal spikes and fires them and his enemies. If they lodge themselves in the enemy, once inside, bolts of electricity fire from within them. If the spikes don't, as they pass, bolts with still fire.
Character backround history:
On the surface, Lao comes off as a rather silly and lighthearted person, frequently engaging in comical behavior and retaining his oft-present grin even while making threats. He displays a childlike amusement for new situations whether or not they prove adverse or even potentially fatal, has a penchant for wandering off on his own only to collapse in the middle of a street. Even with all these idiosyncrasies, he is extremely personable and his particularly complimentary nature easily gains him the friendship and trust of those surrounding him.
Of course, these aspects belie the complex and determined young man underneath. On the reverse side of his frivolous nature is his considerable shrewdness, which makes him quite capable of reading people and situations. He is particularly observant, taking into consideration even the smallest details of his surroundings in order to better understand and deal with challenges and is not above using cheap tricks or questionable tactics to ensure his own survival. Being singularly ambitious, Lao also has a remarkably tenacious will that allows him to overcome virtually insurmountable obstacles and accept inhuman burdens for the sake of his ultimate goal. He has considerable pride that will not stand for having his humanity insulted or condemned by his enemies, but he is also capable of shelving his pride if it becomes something that will stand in the way of his objective.
Lao is very protective of his family and comrades, refusing to allow any harm to come to them and often deeming their safety more important than his own in spite of his own personal ambitions and goals. He has to be reminded several times that his own safety is something upon which many people depend and uses his loved ones as his primary motivation when all hope seems lost. As such, he becomes furious when observing those who willingly or remorselessly cast aside their own comrades or brethren and is sickened by the idea of superiors who reject their duty to those who trust them.
Lao was not born into the most noble of families. In fact, he was not born into a noble family. He was born into a smiting family, there money was modest, but nothing amazing. He loved working with metal, hour would watch his mother work, forming the metal into beautiful things. His mother and father were not born with an affinity, but Lao was. His parents saw this as an opportunity for him to become someone, so they sent him to the Li Lian Military Academy. He was thought many things and ended up graduating third in his class. It was not even a year after that he was sent to OAK, in all truth, he did not want to hunt beasts He would much rather tinkered than become a knight. But as he grew to learn of all the injustices in the world, the useless killing of all being in either world, he found a reason to become one.
By my knighthood I swear:
I SWEAR, ON DA SWORD OF KNIGHT HOOD AND WHATNOT!! |
44,799 | 1,219 | 30 | 2,648 | 292 | To Quill Hastuk shot an sideways glance.
"...We only know the rough estimates of their position on the mountain, we´ll formulate plan of assault when we know exactly what were up against."
One could not see under Hastuks face wrappings but surely his face was twisted in a scowl when Loduzzro presented his idea. Edward seemed to be pleased with it though.
"How about it friend? Dont you desert dwellers love fruit?"
"Misguided as they may be, Vipers are true men and women of Al Zidoa, their recruits are trained from childhood to wield blade and spell with deadly purpose. At best theyd throw any would be infiltrators into an box in ground to scorch and at worst..."
Then Lao made his proposition.
"...For now I forgive the arrogance at using me as some glorified bait as that might actually work. We will see when we get there."
Edward nodded and made an sweeping gesture trough the air.
"What ever your favored method of transportation is I suggest haste, Should the enemy suspect anything is up they would surely relocate their operations. I have sent some squires ahead to set an base camp near Sunfang. As always our stables are at your disposal knights. Will you ride with us Hastuk?"
"I prefer my ways trough the land, Ill meet you at the base camp. Good hunting and Sands favor to you Knights" | You are to become an initiate in the order of arcane knights!
Character sheet
Name:
Gender:
Race:
Age:
Title/Nickname:
Kingdom of birth: Where are you from? or are you an traveler born?
Worship: is your character an religious knight? If so, which god you elevate above the rest?
Appearance: what your character looks like? Pics allowed and even endorsed, no irl photos!
Magical affinity: 1-2 essences of magic that you feel most strongly drawn to. Magics cast from other essences are considerably weaker.
Skills: What is your character good at? put weapons and military training here if any.
Equipment: Tools to conquer an savage world. Put enchanted magitech here if you have any.
Favorite spells: Put some examples on How your character utilizes his affinities in combat.(You can always modify this later)
Character backround history: Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you came to join the order?
By my knighthood I swear: Just write "I SWEAR" in here to symbolize you agree to play nice with others and follow rulings set by GM. |
44,800 | 1,219 | 31 | 459 | 87 | Arthur followed the Grandmaster and others into the war room, the trophies are what caught his eye. Arthur's dream was to someday have something to place inside this room, he hoped in his life as a Knight he would have done enough good and displayed enough bravery to be remembered like the founders and some of those before him. Arthur stood among his comrades around the map table and listened as Edward spoke.
They were to slay foes on Sunfang Mountain, Arthur has slayed many foes before but whether this mountain would make a difference was something he'd have to see when they got there. A mini sand tornado appeared on the opposite side of the table, the tornado gave off a burst of heat, which Arthur felt on against his face, as Hastuk arrived. Hastuk address Arthur and his fellow knights mentioning the royal wedding. Arthur preferred to stay out of affairs of the royals but as it was his duty he had no choice.
The Viper clan would be dangerous and highly skilled but the Arcane Knights would surely defeat them, something Arthur truly believed. He listened as Quill, the sloth man...Loduzzro and Lao weighed in on the mission. Arthur had no questions or plans of attack to contribute; he would follow orders and do as he was needed to do.
Arthur had no use for the Order's horses, he hoped his own Stallion had been fed, watered and rested; he would use no other horse as no other horse would suffice. | Name: Yeldar Dragonhelm the Younger
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Age: 78
Title/Nickname: Lovingly given the nickname "Junior", by his clan, Yeldar the Younger has been known as "Sir Junior" ever since joining the Order.
Kingdom of birth: Hailing from the Dwarven citadel of Dragonhelm, underneath the Greybark ridge to the northeast, Yeldar has been a legal resident of Silvercliff for almost 7 years.
Worship: Along with all members of the Dragonhelm clan, Yeldar honors and seeks guidance from his deceased ancestors. He keeps a carving of his 7th-great grandmother in his pack, in case he ever needs to ask a question.
Magical affinity: Lightning (Active combat) and Fire (Enchanting).
Skills:
Years of combat training and experience from fighting the endless battle for the halls of Dragonhelm. Yeldar's particular style of fighting involves staying at a distance and destroying or at least putting multiple holes in whatever he faces. If it should come to close quarters, he relies on the use of his Shock spell or simply crushes his opponent in classic dwarven bear-hug style.
Yeldar is also skilled in metal craftsmanship, diplomacy, and trade, with a shrewd eye and an even better memory.
Equipment: Yeldar carries only one artifact, a six-shot pistol built by his great-uncle. Rather than utilising the inefficient and easily-damaged blasting powder common to bandits and other hopeful gunmen, this weapon uses a special semi-arcane blend called Dragonfire to propel its projectiles. Dragonfire generates enough speed for the steel bullets to easily pierce leather and chain armor, and if properly aimed, even through steel plate. Aided by Yeldar's spells, his bullets are enchanted to more devestating effect, able to explode and deal additional damage to armored targets.
The dwarf's pack contains other equipment necessary for journeying and survival: Flint and tinder, food, maps, skinning knife, cooking pots, and a simple first-aid kit. While not carrying a great deal of money on his person, he can often write a traders note to the local merchant's guilds in return for the local currency.
(Merchants traveling to Dragonhelm can then redeem the trader's note for more than its face value. Many guilds take this as a form of investment, especially if the signature on the note has good credit.)
Favorite spells:
Shock: Using his Lightning affinity, Yeldar casts short-range or direct contact arcs of electricity to stun or injure opponents who get close. Increasing the range on this spell requires more effort, so Yeldar prefers to use the more-effective pistol when able.
Heated Bullet: Casting short-duration enchantments on his bullets, Yeldar can cause them to superheat on impact with the target, either exploding or burning holes through the enemy. This is also effecting for clearing barriers, disrupting combat, and signalling.
Character backround history:
Born the youngest son of the Dragonhelm clan chief, Yeldar the Younger would have to force his way through all 17 of his older siblings to have a shot at the council head. Not that he didn't think about it a few times, especially after a long night of teasing and alcohol, Yeldar loved his family too much to ever try for the position. Instead, he followed 5 of his brothers into military training for a few dozen years, had a brief stint as merchant for another 18, then opened up a silversmith shop in Silvercliff for a few years. Hearing word of the Order, and feeling the call for adventure once more, Yeldar sold his shop to a cousin and moved to the capital to join The Order of Arcane Knights.
By my knighthood I swear: "I swear, on my grand-father's grave, that I will uphold the code, banner, and laws of the Order of Arcane Knights."
Other: Yeldar is very wealthy, due to his past as a trader and silversmith, but keeps all of his money stored at his family's home in Dragonhelm. As stated above, he uses trader's notes to obtain local currency, but this can backfire if the local guild refuses his note. |
44,801 | 1,219 | 32 | 2,717 | 553 | Loduzzro thought for a moment. Transportation... Horses were too small for him, but he was much to slow on his own to arrive in a timely manner. It had taken him hours to simply make his way up the steps leading to this very room! The issue was a puzzling one, a difficult puzzle, like the one that involved stacking the little orb lines into a pyramid. Loduzzro could never figure out that puzzle when the ascetics showed it to him, and he was having difficulty figuring out this puzzle now. Perhaps if he rode two horses at once? No, that was a foolish idea. A makeshift sleigh for the horses to pull him along in? No, that was too complex. He thought, and thought, until he came up with an idea.
Turning to the chief knight again, Loduzzro attempted to ask a question. "In stable, you have... The big fur one? Isn't horse, is growly, but not cat like..." He was trying very hard to remember what the animal he needed was called. "OH! A bear? Is bear maybe could ride?" That was it! A bear, the perfectly-sized animal for him. | Name: Loduzzro
Gender: Male
Race: Beastman (Pale-Throated Slothman)
Age: Relatively difficult to discern. Somewhere between teens and thirties.
Title/Nickname: The Simple, The Hair-Knight
Kingdom of birth: Loduzzro has wandered for all of his days, which he has not counted. He bears no kingdom.
Worship: Loduzzro, for all that can be discerned, worships Vine rather devoutly. His practices seem nonsensical and the prayers he offers are generally gibberish.
Magical affinity: Wood and Stone
Skills: Despite his gentle appearance and slow movement, Loduzzro is actually quite savage in battle. As well, he is quite adept with both Wood and Stone magicks, given his otherwise very simple nature, making him easily underestimated.
Equipment: Loduzzro's weapon is a large sequoia branch which he preserves with his wood magic. There are a number of sharp stones sticking out from the branch. He lacks any real armor, relying on his stone magic to protect his body in combat. He carries with him a sack of sweet fruits that he eats from.
Favorite spells: Loduzzro creates armor of stone to protect himself in combat, and uses his magic to "communicate" and co-ordinate nature such as trees into providing him favorable conditions.
Character background history: Born in the outskirts of the Li Lian, Loduzzro was a strange being from his first moments on this earth. His odd and unnatural appearance, even compared to most Beastfolk, made him an outcast from the very start. He wandered, lost and alone, barely surviving, until he came upon a beautiful and verdant forest. There, he never went hungry, nor slept cold. It was a nice and wonderful place for him. Taken in by a tribe of ascetics devoted to Vine, Loduzzro was quickly brought to see the beauty of all things. However, unlike many who wandered the woods, he was not simply content to hide away and enjoy comforts while others in the outside world suffered as he once did, and so he set off once more to bring peace and justice to all. It is this noble goal that attracted him to the OAK.
By my knighthood I swear: Swear for do good. Help many. |
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