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9,500 | 268 | 59 | 740 | 392 | Emily sat at the back, and didn't really watch what was going on. Some sort of arguement between people. It wasn't her thing to pay attention to the bickerings of the minions. She was here for Master, and that was it. Emily casually hoped that Master knew how she felt about him, or weither he hadn't planned her growing beyond what he thought when she was first created. Either way, there was no chance she would ever bicker in front of him and cause him to get annoyed.
But then, by way of two of her Spirits suddenly peaking interest, Emily watched what was happening more closely. Master had, for some reason, spawned great Soulfire and whipped one of the less physical minions with it. Such a creation was marvolous, much like the True Empyrean, which stood leagues above her own. All she knew about it that it was to far beyond her at the present time to consider trying it. The thing would probably backfire and kill her, and everything else it came across as well. However, it certainly did the trick for settling the arguement, and she was free to move in, after he was asked about someone getting a leadership role for a new raid.
"Master, I need to talk to you about something. Could we get more private chambers?" She asked, a touch of powerful Spirit-Mage in her tone, and a touch of cute, innocent girl. It never heard to use both when talking to anyone. | Name: Emily Kabal, Spirit's Sonnet
Physical Form: Innoculious and cute, Emily is in every way a young human girl that draws little attention and can go wherever she wants to without anyone becoming sucpicious, and anyone who does think to stop Emily gets such a heart melting smile they can't help but let her go on. She has no physical Tell to inform a person there is more than meets the eye, and she wears casual peasant garb which further enhances her ability to slip in wherever and whenever she wants.
Abilities: Magic is Emily's forte, and she fortes brilliantly. There are few human warlocks who could compete with Emily by herself, and she is assisted in her magical talent by four Sung Spirits - a special branch of spirit that can only be summoned by singing, rather than ritual - which pushes her magical prowess far beyond what any mortal could ever dream of. The three spirits she hosts are Storm, Earth and Fire, with an Overseer spirit that watches the other three and posesses talent in their schools. Most of her spells are generic, if powerfully utalized, but the one unique spell she posesses is Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown. It does not exist in this dimension the same way that the rest of her magic does, and so she needs help from her Fire spirit and the Overseer to conjuer it. She creates the physical shell while her spirits fill it with the fire itself. Once that is done, Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown can be used in two differen manners. The first is a singular target, which upon impact incinrates them internally and externally at the same moment, making it effective even against armour or barriers - something to note is that if the target can absorb heat and fire, then they are super-charged by it rather than burned to a cinder. The second is a wide spread attack that causes an extremely hot fire to voraciously spread through the surrounding area, engulfing a small village in moments. The strain, both physically and magically, is considerable so it is not often used. Another rather personal, but not unique, ability is how Emily can use her fire as a sort of Afterburner, and fly through the sky. This is not very subtle, and causes her magics to drain at a constant rate, so she does not use it lightly. The third uncommon ability is her teleporting from Fire to Fire. This requires a pillar of flame to engulf Emily, and then a second Pillar of flame to drop her off. The disadvantage is that it causes disorientation and the second pillar can sometimes not be available.
Aside from magical abilities Emily can - obviously - sing very well, and enjoys simply singing for the thrill of it. She puts this to use summoning her spirits, most commonly Blanks which can posess weak-willed humans or recently dead cadavers and provide Emily with feedback and obidience. With slightly more effort, Emily can bind elemental spirits to herself - or though currently she is at her limit and wants to give her body time to adjust before getting more - and also to beings like Wolves, and Badgers, and Sheep. And humans, but they are usually not so cool and not so plentiful. Emily has a sharp mind as well, able to create a plan in a few moments and chain together her three magical elements, creating a combo that is able to take out massive creatures, well confident of their own abilities before they came face to face with this young girl. Physically, she is of a standard teenagers strength and durability, so she avoids close combat.
A final, and rather unknown power, is Emily's ability to percieve Magic. When it is being used, how much, and also the strength of the person she is looking at. This gives her a clear advantage over other magic users, since it allows her to see what theyr are about to use, and work around it. This technique turns her eyes pure gold, and drains her power at a constant rate, so extended useage is unadvisable.
Wants/Needs: While Emily is happy serving Master in every way, she does have a long-term goal to summon and bind Spitfire, The Fire King, Nike, The Earth King, and Minami, the Storm King.
Relationships: Other than her devotion to the Master, Emily fits in well with all kind of Spirits, so she is often found in the company of Umbra and Narza.
Backstory: Emily is a Homonculus, an artifically created Human, and the first sucess in a string of failures that created useless, deformed monstrosities. She was created with magical power in mind, so the creation process sacrificed the strength most artificals could posess in return for a much deeper magical pool. Some think that she does not have a soul because she was created, but that is a falicy, since even Homonculi need souls to exist. She was pushed, magically, to increase her power, and get stronger until a point where she could handle Sung Spirits inhabiting her. She summoned her first, a spirit of Fire, and after a few months of training and control, summoned even more spirits until she had the total of four she has now.
Other: ((Anything else that you want to mention?)) |
9,501 | 268 | 60 | 538 | 2,678 | The Dungeon Keeper shot a glance at Octavius and the selection that he made glow. "Take what you like, go through it and I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for. You have first pick over Shukra, as what he takes will be given to mere orcs."
It looked like most had said there share and taken whatever they had wanted; this meeting was drawing to a close. Already several of his minions had left. The Master himself was about to retreat to his own quarters to think of a plan when Emily asked to talk about something. He was in a somewhat foul mood after the fight between Shukra and That Which Consumes Peace, though he would humor Emily's request. Without a word in response, he teleported the two of them to a more secluded and private section of the dungeon. Then he merely stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to begin talking. | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,502 | 268 | 61 | 351 | 2,364 | The fact that the master had accepted his request and provided him with several minor boons to ease with the transport of his new crop of test subjects made Twich a very happy kobold. Reaffirmed in his choice of patron master, Twich went to work gathering his new test subjects (In some cases, having some of them drag the unresponsive bodies of the soulless with them) and shepherding them through the provided portal.
With enough prodding and a few kicks here and there, Twich was able to successfully get his new slaves through the portal without a hitch. Offering his Master one last bow he stepped through the portal himself.
Twich's quarters were really a two roomed area that he had mostly made for himself; The fact that the kobold had been willing to help dig out his rooms instead of just commanding the imps to do it had earned him at least a small amount of grudging respect from the imps themselves. Not much in the ground scheme of things but enough that when he requested two holding cells be dug into the wall of one room and a second room be dug out to convert it into a larger, communal holding cell he had been able to get them. The room was littered with books, medical and alchemy equipment and a heavy, blooded soaked table that was bolted to the floor standing in the middle of the room that was covered in heavy leather and metal restraints.
Physically making the test subjects that were carrying soulless bodies on the floor, Twich herded those still standing through the door into the larger holding cell. It would be rather cramped at the moment, but after the primary tests on the soulless bodies Twich would get around to solving the overcrowding problem easily enough. Once the slaves were secure, Twich dragged one of the soulless bodies over to his table and with much effort got the big bastard onto it.
All he had to do now was figure out what experiment he wanted to start off working on...
"Hmm... What to start off with. Could make something to kill the master's enemies on mass... Could figure out how to improve it to make better slaves and servants... Decisions decisions..." Twich muttered privately to himself with a large, toothy smile on his face. | Name:
Twich
Physical Form:
Abilities:
Smarter then thou: What Twich lacks in physical strength and size, he makes up for with a cruel cunning, a twisted intellect and a surprisingly strong will.
Alchemist Training: There are only two things that an alchemist needs to be able to do in order to be a good alchemist; The ability to flip a table and be on the other side of it when what they are working on explodes and the ability to know exactly when to do this. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
If you don't want to eat it just because it has some mold growing on it, hand it over.: Twich is a kobold. They can eat just about anything regardless of how rotten its become just fine without ill effect. They are also immune to horrible smells that would make others sick.
Love the BOOM!: There is something about arson and explosions that just appeals to Twich's soul. The fact that he is very good at creating things that explode and set things on fire makes his inner hatchling very happy.
WHY?! FOR SCIENCE!: Twich doesn't always create or tamper with things to make them explode or catch fire (At least, not as the end goal). Often he likes to create concoctions or perform experiments for a large number of reasons, more often then not because he felt like it or just wants to see if the current theory in his head has any basis in reality.
Personality:
Those who meet Twich would surprisingly discover that he is, above everything else, quite civil. Those above or greater then him will get the recognition that they deserve of course but those of equal and even lower standing will be treated with professional, polite conversation when talking with Twich. They will also quickly discover that he is quite 'mad'; His mind seems to operate on a completely different wavelength then everyone around him and he often views the world far differently from other people as well.
If one really wants to see him in his prime however, all they need to do is suggest a possible alchemy or science experiment within Twich's hearing range. The quest for discovery and knowledge burns within him brighter then the flames of hell themselves; Despite this he has made it quite clear to several demons that have offered him deals for knowledge and alchemist/scientific discoveries in exchange for his soul that he is not interested because 'That was the path of cowards and fools'.
Even the most evil of beings would find the calm, professional and somewhat detracted approach that Twich takes with his experiments rather... unnerving. Almost all of his experiments are performed on live test subjects... often without their knowledge let alone consent.
Wants/Needs: A bigger lab, more resources and freedom to explore with his various fields of science and alchemy. First pick of any group of slaves and captives with no questions asked as to why he wants/needs them. The right to take any student that he wishes.
Relationships: Fairly civil, shows the needed respect to those that require it.
Backstory: Twich was born to the Snakebiter tribe, a kobold tribe that had its tunnels located underneath a somewhat poisonous swamp. Taken to be trained as an alchemist rather early on when he showed he had a knack for it, Twich rather quickly learned everything that his tribe knew about it and found himself consumed by the desire to learn more. At first traveling to other kobold tribes to study, Twich soon found himself learning from many of the other underworld denizens in exchange for his services; At times he even found teachers among the more open minded of the surface dwelling races. When he ran out of teachers who could offer him new knowledge, Twich wasn't satisfied. He needed to know more and that meant he needed to create more things to learn himself.
This is rather challenging as an independent working alone... but with the raise of the Master and his 'Hordes of Darkness', Twich found a patron who could make his dreams and desires a reality in exchange for his services.
Other: - |
9,503 | 268 | 62 | 215 | 1,683 | Athinar nodded knowingly, as if the Boss had made the only sensible choice. Grinning, he waved in farewell to the Master."Thanks Chief! You won't regret your decision!" His smile became decidedly more sharklike as he headed back to the other champions. Saying nothing, he passed by them, and grabbed an imp in a massive fist. As he reached the connecting tunnel, he said, "Hey. Minion. Come with me." Taking him to his room, he found Meat sitting in the middle of the room, on his knees. Surprisingly, the barber had a faint smile on his face, even though his cheeks were covered in rapidly drying tears. Cocking his head curiously, he threw the imp into the far corner of the room, causing him to land against the rough stone wall, stunned from shortness of breath. Closing the door behind him, and locking it, Athinar asked, "Meat? What are you doing?"
Meat smiled, and said, "I've come to terms with being here. Boss, I see that were're similar." At Athinar's confused look, he said, "For so long, I was treated like trash, and now I-" He sucked in his breath, a look of bloodthirsty determination in his eyes. "With you, I can get revenge on the world that wronged me." Athinar was surprised, but it was a good surprise. He didn't think that Meat had it in him.
Smiling, and patting him on the back, he said, "Meat, don't worry. We'll get them all. However, don't ever, EVER try and betray me. No matter how tempting it may be, I WILL kill you." Meat gave him a confident nod. He was entirely Athinar's. | Name: Athinar Gol-Gaia
Physical Form:
Tall, well-muscled, and stable, he is the pinnacle of physical perfection, even by the standards of some who would call themselves 'Immortal'. He is 6'8", and weighs at 300 pounds, in his normal form.
In his alternate form, he gains a sentient sword, and a set of armor which is actually part of him. In this form, sometimes his face is visible, but more often than not, he keeps his mask on. He is 7'0" even, and weighs 450 pounds.
Abilities:
Normal Form / Carnage Form - Athinar has decided to forgo magic that affects others, in favor of a magic that supplements his already impressive strength. His Carnage Form is a shell, which looks like armor, but actually is a super-dense exoskeleton. While in this form, he is significantly slower, but is immensely more powerful in terms of strength and defense.
Summon: Carnage Blade - Athinar has the ability to summon his Carnage blade at any time, however it is smaller and less impressive when he's not in Carnage form, although it still is alive, and speaks to him. The blade's name is Requiem. what the sword looks like, except with glowing red runes down the middle.
(Normal Form - Rock Style) Blood Palm - Athinar uses the blood spilled by anyone, including his own, in a fight, to empower his fist's attack.
Martial Arts - Athinar was trained in three forms of martial arts by the monks. However, he is only the equivalent of a black belt in one, and slightly competent in the others.
(Skilled)Rock Style - Athinar stays solid, and in place, for the most part. He uses his fists, elbows, and occasionally trips the enemy, but tries to keep his feet steady. For if he can, not much in the terms of human force can move him, but if anyone has trained in Windstance (or was strong enough), they could move him through sheer momentum and weight transfer.
(Beginner)The Path of the Cyclone - Not so much a martial art as a series of moves, executed one after the other, this unarmed style is used to fight large groups of enemies. There are twelve moves altogether, in three groups. However, Athinar was only taught the first group, and cannot continue the momentum of the Path.
- Leaping Tornado: Athinar lunges forward, landing among his enemies.
- Unseen Tempest: Athinar waits three seconds for enemies to close in, ready to strike.
- Stormblade: Athinar ducks down beneath a man's weapon, and elbows him in the chest/neck area.
- Cyclone Kick: Athinar does a roundhouse kick, tripping all surrounding enemies.
However, these are usually poorly executed, due to lack of training.
(Beginner) Celestial Mirage - This is possibly the martial art that he's learned that he has the most trouble with. It is a kick-based martial art, one that forces you to maintain patience. It's attacks come in bursts, to draw the enemy out, and allow the student to analyze the situation. However bad Athinar is with this, it was still one of the arts he learned from the monks, and he views it as a useful, albeit F*CKING INFURIATING skill.
Personality: Athinar gets intense pleasure from seeing other creature's blood. No matter the circumstances, or whether he is allied with them or not. When he is not getting excited by bloodlust, he is usually a very calm, collected individual, who is quite intelligent, surprisingly. When blood is near, he turns into a vicious man, taking pleasure in drawing blood, tasting it, etc. Afterwards, he is, shall we say, *ahem* easily excitable. If you know what I mean. However, this doesn't mean that he's not smart. He is extremely smart, in his bloodlust, and will be able to craft plans on the fly, if they end in violence and killing.
Relationships:
Emily- Thinks that the homunculus is beneath his attention, generally, unless she does something big and shiny.
That Which Consumes Peace- A fool, disobeying the Boss, but made a nice save, getting Shukra mildly punished.
Ekushka- Hasn't met her yet.
Narza- Is quite fond of the little ghost, curretly.
Shukra- A pompous ass who fails at commanding.
Darkwraith Kor- A good fighter, like Athinar, who shares his bloodlust. Enjoys his company.
Azavarn- Too flamboyant.
Umbra/Christopher- Thinks that Christopher is a bit off, but doesn't know why.
Torrens- Doesn't have any opinion of him, but thinks that a fire demon might be useful.
Clotho- Has a strange fixation on Clotho's chitin.
Twitch- Has disdain for the ratty, well, twitchy kobold. Maybe if he actually did something, he might be useful.
Backstory: Athinar is the reincarnated form of an ex-Dungeon Keeper, banished from his former world, and born to a new life in this one. However, he don't remember shit, and the only benefits were the impressive physical abilities you see today. He was born to an order of monks, who trained him in every combat style, unarmed and armed. However, this revealed his darker secret, his love for shedding blood. Killing them all, he was guided by a voice in his head, who told him that if he joined with him, he'd get to kill, kill, and keep killing. So he met up with the Dungeon Keeper, and started killing.
Other: If Athinar seems too powerful, remember that he was converted to the Dungeon Keeper's cause by him just saying that he could kill people if he joined him. He's not dumb, but he does have quite the one-track-mind, and is quite susceptible to manipulation, in both forms. Like, REALLY susceptible. A novice hypnotist could put him to sleep. |
9,504 | 268 | 63 | 2,751 | 60 | Emily felt the teleporting happen suddenly, and instantly. Like her flame pillar, only without the spinning head, and feeling of sickness, and needing of an actual flame pillar before hand. But, the gesture was appriciated. How he wordlessly accepted a private talk with her. It was nice that he didn't think she was going to kill him, or he was so far up his own ass he didn't think she was a threat. That was much more likely.
"Ok, so, most of the bodies where splattered beyond even Abominations, and melted on the way. Even those that did survive are a mess, and wil probably melt in a few days. The ones that are slightly better are still in rough shape, so I'd give it a week before they all go and the spirits start looking for new hosts. I did, however, manage to speak to one of the not-so-dead Zombies on the way here. They can't really speak very well in dead bodies, so decyphering it was a pain, however I think I managed it eventually" She blabbered, before stopping. And taking a breath.
"Basically, I need to summon a Kitsune. They are haughty, and rather arrogant creatures, and to get their attention would require quite a considerable show. So, I need to incinerate a village, with all it's people and buildings and grass intact. And, I was wondering if I was allowed to do that. I mean, it's kind of a waste, but the Kitsunes are really smart and kinda open when they are summoned" | Name: Shukra
Gender: Male
Race: Rakshasa
Physical Form: Standing at a proud seven feet even, Shukra is a monster to behold, with flowing black fur the color of ash with stripes that glow like flames. His eyes glow the orange of fire, and his maw is filled with razor sharp teeth like his tiger cousins. Each finger is tipped with a razor sharp claw, and a long tail swishes behind him. Few have survived the attempt of touching it. Adorning his body is a suit of ancestral armor, worn by the honor guard of the ancient Rakshasa emperors, made of an unknown metal and inlaid with gold. Aga, his sword, lays on his hip, made of the same metal as his armor and covered in a runes that glow like embers.
Skills/Abilities
Voice of the Emperor - A gentle reminder that he is your better. Every word he says will influence the thoughts of the weak willed and unintelligent towards what he wants.
Breath of the Dragon - Fire is his ally, and so he has garnered an immunity to its effects, and can manipulate natural fires or create his own through magic.
Strength of the Tiger - He is naturally tougher and stronger than most other races, and has, at one point, torn an orc chieftain in half with his bare hands.
Speed of the Snake - While he is not the fastest man to live, he can outrun any human with ease, and his reflexes are far superior to most others.
Blade of the East - He is a good swordsman, but by no means the best.
Personality: Shukra is confident that he, because of his race, if not himself as a person, is superior to all others, especially others. As such, he will rarely give the time of day to others he sees as below him, and those that he has managed to come to terms with as them being his equal, he will at least attempt to be civil with them, in his own special way as an ass. The rare occasion he'll find someone who has proven themself to be his superior, he's found an unnatural and unhealthy obsession with being under their service. Up until the point where he's confident enough to kill them and take their place, but with the current Dungeon Master, he is unsure of his ability to do so. However, he does have a soft spots for his servants, and gets legitimately enraged when he finds out his lackeys have been killed.
Wants/Needs: Shukra wants one thing: To restore the glory of the Rakshasa, even if he is the only one left. Land, subjects, and cities to lord over are what he wants, for those that are lesser than him to submit and become become his, one way or another. That, and to become strong enough to deserve the title of King.
Backstory: In the jungles to the east, there are stories of the rakshasas, demonic tiger men that lorded over lesser races. They were brought down by great heroes, or sealed away by powerful mages. But, there were some that managed to escape persecution by their servants and peasants. Shukra, once a steward and guard to a more powerful rakshasa. He escaped, and went into a dormant state. However, he was recently awakened by a clan of orcs, deep underground. Shukra is unsure of how he got there, but after slaying the chieftain of the orcs, he took command of their clan and drove them to the surface, forcing them to become strong, smart, cunning. He's lead them close to the surface, where others of their kind and other degenerates forced underground by the humans to hide and cower have gathered. That is where he shall begin his ascent, and return to glory.
Other: His sword, Aga, is made of an unknown metal and covered in red runes that glow like embers. Because of the magic in these runes, the sword is impervious to rust, will never dull, and will never dent, and is immune to all but the strongest of magics. He also has a clan of orcs under his command, which is convenient at times.
The Vorhaas Clan |
9,505 | 268 | 64 | 640 | 262 | Ekusha was baffled at the situation unraveling before her. It all seemed to happen so quickly. The events were incredibly revealing of character that she had even forgotten her own train of thought in the moment. What had occurred between Shukra and That Which Consumes Peace had been rather distasteful, but unsurprising for two naturally aggressive beings. The Keeper's handling of the situation did not help to garner cooperation, either. With that, Athinar's pride landed him a shot at leadership within the group. Ekusha began questioning the structure of this group, but only time could tell how this would all transpire.
Octavius, the human, seemed to be the simplest one present. Appearing both rational and humble, he didn't seem to seek much outward validation from this group, a trait she very much admired; rather, it looked like he wanted placement and purpose, something she could see him finding in himself through the Dungeron Keeper's movement. We'll definitely be working very closely, human.
As everything seemed to be settling down, Ekusha approached Twitch in his quarters. He had been left to his own devices with his new dummies, but what better time to converse than during this down-time?
"Kobold, I say you, I, and the Rakshasa work together on carving out an empire in this world. The Master will have the totality of this world, but we can become gods in our own right. We can jointly oversee a vast domain with each of us securing a disjoint realm: you intellectually, I metaphysically, and I believe Shukra has the means and the mind for kingship! This group has a lot of individual potential, but probability and security in success does not increase with such high numbers and overlapping desires."
"I have no doubts we will have our disagreements and inevitably butt-heads, but with the separation of our powers aligning with our goals and personas, we can achieve stability so long as we cooperate from our respective positions of influence. I do not believe in the rule of good or evil; all I believe in is the power of rule, and I feel you can empathize being the professor of science you are. All I ask is for your consideration on this matter. The new world order has already been set in motion: we just need to secure our own places in it." | Ekusha, the Vain
Physical Form:5'4; petite build.
Tattoos animate (shift positions, change entirely, etc).
Long black hair, nearly reaching waist-level.
Pitch-black pupils.
Mezzo-soprano voice.
Abilities:Exerts influence upon lesser beings, mimicking hypnosis, through various means:
Fear, by preying on insecurities.
Lust, through worldly temptations.
Anger, with impassioned words.
Adapts and evolves external persona to thrive.
Leadership skill set, grand advisor:
Political strategist.
Military tactician.
Economic genius.
Incarnates at will into any one realm.
Can observe and interact without corporeal form.
Exists as a single Cartesian point.
Shapeshifter in physical being.
Personality:Externally appealing and persuasive, especially to lesser beings.
Knows how to kiss some ass to get her way.
Ambitious, but selfish and arrogant about her own success.
Vain when successful, and envious otherwise.
Wants/Needs: Ekusha desires attention in general, whether it be through worship, fame, or influence. Her spirit is immortal, but her power is derived from her more susceptible and impressionable followers (overworld inhabitants, weaker spirits, lesser angels/demons, etc). Her greatest fear is fading into irrelevance, and therefore she is compelled to substantially impose herself on others.
Relationships: Ekusha easily makes and breaks connections, enjoying a degree of self-imposed solitude when she feels is appropriate and dealing with others when it proves advantageous. In this new apocalypse, she is open to getting all the help she can, so long as she gets her cut.
Dungeon Keeper: -
Athinar Gol-Gaia: -
Yappo: -
Emily Kabal: -
That Which Consumes Peace: -
Narza: -
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher: -
Shukra, the Rakshasa: -
Kor, the Darkwraith: -
Tinkerhel: -
Azavarn: -
Umbra: -
Torrens Igneus: -
Clotho: -
Twitch, the Snakebiter: -
Wold, the Dragon: -
Backstory: Throughout time, Ekusha has played a variety of roles in various realms: from grand despot, to military commander, to religious icon, to many other minor roles. She has also, in other instances, fooled many into believing her to be a deity or demon, but she is merely a spirit with no true celestial or infernal affiliation. Her allegiance is ultimately towards herself.
She is cunning in her ways, seeking power in any form available to her. She enjoys being idolized, and being able to use her influence to subjugate all beings through speech and slaughter. She has fought countless battles, and fled her own destruction just as many times. She puts herself in constant conflict with the many idols the world has produced, and her power constantly cycles between significance and non-existence.
Now, Ekusha comes to the Dungeon Keeper in hopes of securing power. She wants to conquer for herself an empire that will last until eternity. She wants subjects across all lands, in all realms, that stand before her. She sees the Dungeon Keeper as a messiah, his apocalypse a revolution, and herself an empress in the making.
Other:Often found observing from the universal sidelines, when not inhabiting any particular realm.
Incalculable amounts of experience in rising to power, over the course of countless lifetimes. |
9,506 | 268 | 65 | 538 | 2,678 | As Emily had guessed, the Dungeon Master (perhaps arrogantly) was under the impression that she posed no threat to him. After all, what could possibly rival his power? In the Infernal Realms he had countless slaves and had bested nearly as many rival demons. In this world of the living, he had amassed an army the likes of which had never been seen before, and soon enough he would conquer the entire kingdom of Ardebit. She could not surprise him or best him.
...or so he thought, until she went on and surprised him indeed by proposing to summon a Kitsune with some sort of ritual that would involve razing an entire village. He was agitated at the mere implication that she had thought to create some sort of flame zombies, bringing the creatures into the dungeon, and only later stating that the spirits would incinerate their hosts and wreak havoc looking for new ones. He was doubly provoked by the thought that to fix this problem thy would now need to sacrifice an entire village's worth of loot and potential slaves.
Still, the last village had yielded little of worth and so he saw no real need to strip another of all its resources. There were a few nearby hamlets that would need to disappear soon, so Emily's request had been timed well. At any other point he would have flatly denied such an absurd request, but he would humor her this once. "Very well. You may try to burn down a village and perform your ritual, though I would advise you not to fail. If let survivors escape, you will know my wrath."
After letting that sink in, he continued, "Take the one known as Torrens Igneus along with you. He will no doubt appreciate the chance to burn a village, and his help may prove useful. Take all of the fiery creatures of your as well; you will find them locked in one of the empty storage rooms. I will give you half a day to prepare, and then you will go. There is another village only slightly northwest of the last one that we raided. That will be your target."
His spiel complete, the Master began to leave. His infernal gaze continued to stare at Emily as it had throughout this entire encounter, though the fiery red began to grow ever more dull. Within a few moments, Emily would find that the warlock before her was transparent. Then he melted into a mere shadow, and then he was gone, having teleported back into his Dungeon Heart.
He ordered one of his imp servants to enter the dungeon cells and bring back one of the human slaves that he had claimed from the last raid. Several had no doubt noticed the Master's rather meager claim when the spoils were presented. None of the paltry material items had interested him, only the flesh. He took only ten because he did not require personal slaves; he had imps for that. No, he only needed humans for the occasional blood sacrifice or soul.
After several minutes, a team of imps carried a limp woman in. While she was still alive, her eyes were glazed as they simply stared into nothingness. He kept all of his blood slaves both drugged and under magical enchantments, to avoid any escapes or resistance. They did not need their minds or their bodies, anyways. After a rather gruesome sacrifice upon his altar, the warlock was empowered. With this temporary strength he was able t perform all manner of feats and dark rites. He used his magic to scry lands far away, spying on nearby lords, eying defenses of towns, searching for any threats or opportunities. Then he scourged the sacrifice's soul, sifting through the woman's various memories in search of anything useful.
When all of this was done, he used his newly acquired information to begin plotting. He would soon have more work for his other minions... | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,507 | 268 | 66 | 1,270 | 2,337 | Emily listened to the Master speak, and then bit her lip as he said she could try to burn a village. She knew it wouldn't do much, but she had to correct him anyway, it was an obsession.
"It won't be me that burns the village. It'll be the Kitsune, if they accept the 'gift'. The incineration is just a side-effect and happens instantly" she told him, but then he started to look transparant, and eventually vanished totally. So, she knew she wasn't going to get a reply. But, her orders where absolute. She was to take her 'Fiery creatures' with her. But, he didn't specifically say to the village, so that meant she could let them off and have them go find new hosts. Spies, to keep track of people and listen to rumor could be helpful, as well as them acting as double agents if the village was ever raided.
So, with much on her mind, Emily wandered out of the room, and found the storage where her beasts where kept. Emily then took them out of the dungeons and released them from the fleshy shells, by engouging their power momentarily and causing the flesh to melt around them.
"There is a village to the south west of where you where summoned. Do not go near it. Anywhere else is free game. So, hunt those who still live, and take host within them. Try to keep a low profile until told otherwise though" she told the now spiritual forms. They then flew off into the sky, howling with excitement. Mayhem, even a low profile mayhem, was always fun in the mortal realm.
With that bit of business done, she returned to the Dungeon and looked around the entrance. It would certainly benifit from having a few Runes around the cave mouth and surrounding area, but that would be something for another time. Right now, she needed to find Torrens. Which, would not be hard. He woiuld obviously be in the Forge, since the rest of the cave was rather drafty, and wouldn't do him any favours. Her sucpiscions where right, as she found him standing over some imps, doing something that she wasn't really interested enough to find out.
"Torrens!~ Master told me to take you out on an expidition I am going on. I am sure I could find you something nice, if all goes to plan" She cooed, siming and waiting for the fire-eater to respond. | Name:
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher, "The Dashing Bastard"
Physical Form: "I put the gore in gorgeous!"
6'6" and 300 of tight body tone. Unarmored, he has a score of scars running him over from a decade in the arenas. His eyes are a fine gray with a catlike shimmer of silver in the back.
Abilities:
Curse; The cornerstone of the hexblade, the ability to lay a witches malicious befuddlement upon intended targets. Not an attack in of itself, it is a go-to weakening of the enemy before engaging. He often pairs the curse with a memorized intimidation to follow up and bring most to cower before finishing them off in a single blow.
Resistance; Like a paladin, he can rely on his sheer strength of will to help shrug off attacks to mind body and soul.
Mettle: Those that he cannot avoid, he tries do bear down and endure, taking the lesser of the worlds woes when he has the chance.
Prestidigitation: Because of the hexblade's calling, Octavius' desire to know more about his arcane abilities manifests itself beyond the ability to curse and the he is able to cast minor prestidigitations at will.
(Item) familiar: Where most would bond to a creature from elsewhere for more power, he has strengthened the bond with his sword to a supernatural level.
Aura of unluck: Once per day Octavius can create a baleful aura of misfortune. Any melee or ranged attack made against the hexblade while this aura of unluck is active has a higher miss chance. Activating the aura is a free action, and the aura lasts for a full minute.
Spells: Like a sorcerer, he uses his sheer strength of will to manifest magic in the world. He just severely lacks the dedication most others would possess by this time.
0 Message
0 Dancing lights
0 Mage hand
0 Detect magic
0 Acid splash
0 Distupt undead
1 True strike
1 Shocking grasp
1 Color spray
1 Identify
2 Eagle splendor
2 Flaming sphere
Personality:
Truly Octavius' greatest strength is his overwhelming charisma, wielded as a weapon as much as his sword. He brings it to bear to cow the most stalwart of enemies and draw up the crowds to a screaming frenzy in the arena.
He is a patient man in combat, often letting the others go first before he devastates them.
He had devoted his life to death, Hades specifically, as a way to deal with the loss of his family. But one can only lash out for so long. In time the burn in his hearth grew cold and hollow so he turned to ways to fill the hole, most often drinking and tavern wenches. But in the end he still fell back to his oldest friend, death. Its more of a bad habit than an addiction, but every week he makes his way to some manner of arena to put himself in the ring.
He's smarter than he ever lets on, by no means is he a genius with lifetimes of knowledge. He's just more experienced that he'd like to be in the way the world works. The best thing he always reminds himself 'always assume they are better than you in every way and plan to fail'.
Relationships:
Since his arrival, he has taken a keen interest in Tinkerhel, She might be a nymphomaniac, but he thinks there is a whole lot more going on in her head.
Backstory:
Octavius' tale is not at twisted as many might think. His parents were simple farmers, his grandfather was a retired army officer who was too maimed to bear spear. When his chores were done for the day, his grandfather would train him in a longsword so big the boy needed both hands to wield it.
Suns rose and set for a decade until the boy on cusp of manhood could now wield the longsword in a single hand. But now he was starting to think with the dagger between his knees and had his eye on the girl across the creek. They were promised to each other and their parents agreed to the union. Sadly, the fates have more in mind than a happy farmer.
A merchant cart heavy with goods came to the farm, asking for a night in the barn for a few silver, all was well until the bandits climbed out of crate and pot to slaughter the family. The boy did well by all accounts, with no armor and only a sword older than him to keep himself safe as he killed the bandit leader while the others ran. As he burned the bodies, he was visited by a lady paladin of Hercule and her ancient wizard. One of his first life lessons about the bigger world would be that halflings and dwarves clearly age differently.
She could see he was strong, strong enough to carry her stuff as his squire as he had nothing left for him here, indeed, he had no other ways to go but with them or try his own. He tried to learn magic cantrips from the wizard but had no luck compared to the combat she refined from what his father gave him. She was teaching him how to fight in armor, a skill he lacked, when they came upon a wizard of the dead.
They made their way to the wizards workshop when they came to discover he was just finishing his ritual to litchdom. The paladin took the undead in a full body tackle while the other two destroyed the phylactery, the wizard found it while Octavius shattered the device but it was too late to save her from its evil magic. The magic of the ritual burned its way into him and changed him to his very core.
Other:
His hat he got from a pirate captain to whom he served upon a ship for a year before a monster afflicted her, her hats own bubble of air was her own undoing.
At one time, he came upon a princess tiara as part of his treasure pull from a successful kidnapping of royalty. In order to dispose of the royal artifact, he had the enchantment transfered to a single jewel worn as a third eye and let them keep the rest of the encrusted property one worn by a queen as payment.
While worn, a third eye conceal protects the wearer from view by all devices, powers, and spells that detect, influence, or read emotions or thoughts. This power protects against all mind-affecting powers and effects as well as information-gathering by clairsentience powers or effects.
Given his propensity for tavern wenches and the like, he was quick to acquire a trinket from the temple of Aphrodite The wearer of this blue gem on a silver chain is immune to disease, including supernatural diseases.
Collected from the skin of a displacer beast, he had its pelt fashioned into his sleeveless longcoat with its powers still within the folds.
Worn inside out to hide its value, he keeps a vest once worn by a pyromancer who was dumb enough to think his innerfire was more powerful than a white dragon. Octavius managed to convince the dragon that the vest would melt the beasts home so he would take it far away while the dragon ate the former wizard for lunch.
Collected from a gnome adventuring party, he managed to run three through on his blade but only kept the one treasure.
1) Mount
2) Slumber
3) Phantasmal Killer
A most useful glove he keeps on hand, it once belonged to an assassin who would use it to bring all manner of gear in a backpack hidden in the stitching. When not used to hide his sword from public eye, he is often known to put his hand into a bucket full (20 pints/2.5 gallons) of holy water and secure it away for dealing with fiery or unholy creatures.
Two small but simple rings in his line of work,
A dwarven ring warded to protect the wearer from evil is actually a good choice when traveling with evil on a daily basis.
As powerful as a ring of invisibility, but far better for him as it makes eight more of him appear rather than make him vanish.
Made from the hide of a Steel dragon parading around as a priestess to Athena, she was fought and slain on her monthly hunt while she was fat and full of a heard of sheep they had left for her as an ambush. When crafted into armor, he had the choice to make the leather immune to acid or protect the wearer from poison, he took the poison protection. In truth it protects him as a full suit of armor as strong as platemail but glamored to be debatable levels of leather and hide piecemeal to suit his ego.
A prize from the arenas, once worn by a master of unarmed combat, this rope belt keeps him far more flexible than he ever could be without it.
Acquired from a fellow raider, a barbarian far from home who could outrun almost anything but a cup of envenomed wine.
These boots let him move faster than normal for moments at a time, acting as a blur when speed was needed over power.
Tattoo:
Psychoactive skin:
Morningstar
An lesser weapon best put to use when three feet of steel isn't recommended. He really hopes to replace it with a mace of disruption soon enough.
Shield
There are times when running around half naked with a greatsword isn't the best plans. When he has to play the defensive position, he uses a heavy shield with a depiction of Gaia upon it as she is of the earth as is hades.
Throwing Axe
When he needs to reach out and touch someone. He is also known to take a moment for himself to relax with all manner of pungent herb or alchemical paste into the bowl on the back.
His gift from beyond. Once, when he was a much younger lad, he traveled as a squire under a paladin of Hercules and her elderly wizard friend into the keep of a vile necromancer. Unfortunately there is a big difference between necromancer and a newly formed litch! Thinking quickly, the paladin took her bag of holding and threw it over them both to pop it away into a pocket realm for just a few seconds as the squire smashed the Phylactery on the work table. The litch turned to dust within the bag and the paladin sacrificed herself for the greater good. Octavius had an idea. He had the wizard use his magic to transmute the holy cold-iron plate-mail of the paladin to the litch dust and he had a greatsword forged from the coldiron dust.
This weapon is a Bane of the undead both solid and ghostly. Its supernaturally keen edge can store the simplest of enchantments within its Damascus folds for release at his will.
Why would a worshiper of the god of death have such enmity to the undead? To KEEP them in Tartarus where they belong!
Recently, he came upon a Devil who had a gift for Octavius. It seems the litch he had defeated so long ago had tried to use the phylactery as a bypass from the devils due. If the litch had succeeded it would have been most embarrassing and bad for business. So out of gratitude he offered the man one gift on credit, not the usual freebie sort of thing but the 'finders fee' of a wayward soul.
Thinking about it, he could easily wish to be the most or the best or the richest... but he had seen how that can bite you in the ass with previous people so he chose to keep it smaller, something he could live without; an extra enchantment on his blade. The two bickered back and forth on the who or what to be done but Octavius was rather stringent on not asking for too much, lest he rely on it too far.
In the end he got an idea from an assassin he used to know and had a small ruby inset into the pommel of his sword. This ruby would trap the soul of every victim of his sword for later that he could bring back to the devil for more credit. So far, Octavius cant find a problem with the deal and that bothers him. |
9,508 | 268 | 67 | 268 | 1,389 | Nothing much was happening in or near the Forge, save for the imps digging a new room into the stone wall, so when Emily passed in front of the entrance to the chamber his gaze automatically shifted to her. When Emily mentioned that he was to go out on an expedition, he leaped to his feet and bounded over to a safe following distance, obviously excited to have something to do. He rubbed his hands together and said, "Excellent! I was hoping to find use for my energy before I lose it. Where are we going? More importantly, what do I get to burn?"
In his mind he remembered that this was the girl who could draw runes and had pyromancy and spirits and stuff. So, as far as he could tell, it was very likely that something was going to burn, and a lot. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,509 | 268 | 68 | 351 | 2,364 | By the time Ekusha had deemed fit to give Twich a visit, the kobold had been somewhat busy with some basic preparations; His belongings had already been covered in cloths that had been treated with wax to make them water (and fluid) proof; Such a practice had been made standard procedure after an unexpected body burst ruined several of his books to the point were he had to burn them. Twich himself had already donned his black work robe (Treated with wax), but had yet to done his 'bird mask' when Ekusha arrived.
The Kobold respected Ekusha enough to listen to what she had to say; She was one of the people that had listened to his plan during the raid after all, it was the least he could do. It was also clear that she was one of the more intelligent servants of the Master and thus he could actually have something of a half way decent conversation with her... but that intelligence also made Twich cautious of the woman in turn. That which is intelligent can plot, and that which can plot can plot against you...
"You make a very persuasive offer but at this point in time I will have to say no to your proposed alliance; It is only early days yet and we only have a basic idea of who the other is. Even more so, we know even less about the Rakshasa and if his anger and pride continue to keep him on the Master's shit list he will not last all that long." Twich explained respectfully before taking a breath and continuing with "That said, I am not against collaboration or co-operation between us. And the first issue that we are going to have to address is that of That Which Consumes Peace."
"While he has his uses, you and I both know that his very nature means that he will become an issue for us somewhere in the future. It's merely a question of when we are forced to deal with him." It was a simple statement, but Twich trusted that Ekusha had already foreseen the problem as well. | Name:
Twich
Physical Form:
Abilities:
Smarter then thou: What Twich lacks in physical strength and size, he makes up for with a cruel cunning, a twisted intellect and a surprisingly strong will.
Alchemist Training: There are only two things that an alchemist needs to be able to do in order to be a good alchemist; The ability to flip a table and be on the other side of it when what they are working on explodes and the ability to know exactly when to do this. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
If you don't want to eat it just because it has some mold growing on it, hand it over.: Twich is a kobold. They can eat just about anything regardless of how rotten its become just fine without ill effect. They are also immune to horrible smells that would make others sick.
Love the BOOM!: There is something about arson and explosions that just appeals to Twich's soul. The fact that he is very good at creating things that explode and set things on fire makes his inner hatchling very happy.
WHY?! FOR SCIENCE!: Twich doesn't always create or tamper with things to make them explode or catch fire (At least, not as the end goal). Often he likes to create concoctions or perform experiments for a large number of reasons, more often then not because he felt like it or just wants to see if the current theory in his head has any basis in reality.
Personality:
Those who meet Twich would surprisingly discover that he is, above everything else, quite civil. Those above or greater then him will get the recognition that they deserve of course but those of equal and even lower standing will be treated with professional, polite conversation when talking with Twich. They will also quickly discover that he is quite 'mad'; His mind seems to operate on a completely different wavelength then everyone around him and he often views the world far differently from other people as well.
If one really wants to see him in his prime however, all they need to do is suggest a possible alchemy or science experiment within Twich's hearing range. The quest for discovery and knowledge burns within him brighter then the flames of hell themselves; Despite this he has made it quite clear to several demons that have offered him deals for knowledge and alchemist/scientific discoveries in exchange for his soul that he is not interested because 'That was the path of cowards and fools'.
Even the most evil of beings would find the calm, professional and somewhat detracted approach that Twich takes with his experiments rather... unnerving. Almost all of his experiments are performed on live test subjects... often without their knowledge let alone consent.
Wants/Needs: A bigger lab, more resources and freedom to explore with his various fields of science and alchemy. First pick of any group of slaves and captives with no questions asked as to why he wants/needs them. The right to take any student that he wishes.
Relationships: Fairly civil, shows the needed respect to those that require it.
Backstory: Twich was born to the Snakebiter tribe, a kobold tribe that had its tunnels located underneath a somewhat poisonous swamp. Taken to be trained as an alchemist rather early on when he showed he had a knack for it, Twich rather quickly learned everything that his tribe knew about it and found himself consumed by the desire to learn more. At first traveling to other kobold tribes to study, Twich soon found himself learning from many of the other underworld denizens in exchange for his services; At times he even found teachers among the more open minded of the surface dwelling races. When he ran out of teachers who could offer him new knowledge, Twich wasn't satisfied. He needed to know more and that meant he needed to create more things to learn himself.
This is rather challenging as an independent working alone... but with the raise of the Master and his 'Hordes of Darkness', Twich found a patron who could make his dreams and desires a reality in exchange for his services.
Other: - |
9,510 | 268 | 69 | 538 | 2,678 | Emily saw Torren's eagerness to burn stuff, and blushed slightly. It would be awkward to tell him the truth, but if she didn't then it would lead to more awkwardness down the line.
"Nothing. I, don't know why he said to bring you along, but if my endevours are to suceed, I need you not to burn anything. You may draw energy from the fire if the Kitsune responds, but I don't know how Muspelheim fire behaves in relation to normal fire. It could just as easily cause you pain, or the Kitsune could take you as part of the Gift. If the Kitsune does come, you could probably ask her to set you on fire, that'd do something. But, until it does, or doesn't work, then I need you to...not burn anything"
Emily wasn't sure how Torrens was going to take this news, but hoped it would be well. Or, at very least well enough to not go setting fire to things she needed without good reason. | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,511 | 268 | 70 | 215 | 1,683 | Athinar raised his eyebrows. He was halfway through teaching Meat how to rip a man's arm off, barehanded, when an imp slammed its tiny fist on his thick door. Opening it, and looming over the squat, horned creature, Athinar said with a terrifying growl, "Yeeeeees?" The minion, shaking, babbled something about the raid, and ran off.
His more competent companion sighed, and said, "Sah, what 'e said was that th' raid's goin' on. The master wants this 'ere town intact. Enslaved, too." Sizing up the imp, he noted that his horns were longer and more twisted than the other imps', and his skin a dusky orange, rather than a blood red.
Athinar turned to Meat, and said, "Practice what I showed you on this pitiful creature here." He pointed to the dazed imp, a lesser one, in the corner. Meat grinned, and said that he would, with pleasure. Athinar locked his door, and looked at the smarter imp. "See me, here, after the raid. If I have to stay in the village, then bring Meat along with you." The imp lazily nodded, and waved Athinar off. The insubordination caused Athinar to snap, mildly. Grabbing him around his thin torso, with one hand, he squeezed. "You WILL do as I say. If it doesn't happen, I will know who is responsible." This threat got to him, and he assured Athinar that it would be done. Throwing him to the side, he strode to the middle chamber, standing tall. He then placed his helm on his face, locking it there with several chinstraps.
He then shouted above the din, yelling loud enough to echo throughout the entire Dungeon. "NARZA! UMBRA! DARKWRAITH! AZAVARN! GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE!" It didn't matter where they were. They would hear him. When they got close, he said, "Thank you. As you know, the Boss here has put me in charge of this next raid. Our target is Ilfracombe, the regional capitol. We also need to capture it, mostly intact." It was at this time, he grinned under his head, and said, "Mostly." | Name: Athinar Gol-Gaia
Physical Form:
Tall, well-muscled, and stable, he is the pinnacle of physical perfection, even by the standards of some who would call themselves 'Immortal'. He is 6'8", and weighs at 300 pounds, in his normal form.
In his alternate form, he gains a sentient sword, and a set of armor which is actually part of him. In this form, sometimes his face is visible, but more often than not, he keeps his mask on. He is 7'0" even, and weighs 450 pounds.
Abilities:
Normal Form / Carnage Form - Athinar has decided to forgo magic that affects others, in favor of a magic that supplements his already impressive strength. His Carnage Form is a shell, which looks like armor, but actually is a super-dense exoskeleton. While in this form, he is significantly slower, but is immensely more powerful in terms of strength and defense.
Summon: Carnage Blade - Athinar has the ability to summon his Carnage blade at any time, however it is smaller and less impressive when he's not in Carnage form, although it still is alive, and speaks to him. The blade's name is Requiem. what the sword looks like, except with glowing red runes down the middle.
(Normal Form - Rock Style) Blood Palm - Athinar uses the blood spilled by anyone, including his own, in a fight, to empower his fist's attack.
Martial Arts - Athinar was trained in three forms of martial arts by the monks. However, he is only the equivalent of a black belt in one, and slightly competent in the others.
(Skilled)Rock Style - Athinar stays solid, and in place, for the most part. He uses his fists, elbows, and occasionally trips the enemy, but tries to keep his feet steady. For if he can, not much in the terms of human force can move him, but if anyone has trained in Windstance (or was strong enough), they could move him through sheer momentum and weight transfer.
(Beginner)The Path of the Cyclone - Not so much a martial art as a series of moves, executed one after the other, this unarmed style is used to fight large groups of enemies. There are twelve moves altogether, in three groups. However, Athinar was only taught the first group, and cannot continue the momentum of the Path.
- Leaping Tornado: Athinar lunges forward, landing among his enemies.
- Unseen Tempest: Athinar waits three seconds for enemies to close in, ready to strike.
- Stormblade: Athinar ducks down beneath a man's weapon, and elbows him in the chest/neck area.
- Cyclone Kick: Athinar does a roundhouse kick, tripping all surrounding enemies.
However, these are usually poorly executed, due to lack of training.
(Beginner) Celestial Mirage - This is possibly the martial art that he's learned that he has the most trouble with. It is a kick-based martial art, one that forces you to maintain patience. It's attacks come in bursts, to draw the enemy out, and allow the student to analyze the situation. However bad Athinar is with this, it was still one of the arts he learned from the monks, and he views it as a useful, albeit F*CKING INFURIATING skill.
Personality: Athinar gets intense pleasure from seeing other creature's blood. No matter the circumstances, or whether he is allied with them or not. When he is not getting excited by bloodlust, he is usually a very calm, collected individual, who is quite intelligent, surprisingly. When blood is near, he turns into a vicious man, taking pleasure in drawing blood, tasting it, etc. Afterwards, he is, shall we say, *ahem* easily excitable. If you know what I mean. However, this doesn't mean that he's not smart. He is extremely smart, in his bloodlust, and will be able to craft plans on the fly, if they end in violence and killing.
Relationships:
Emily- Thinks that the homunculus is beneath his attention, generally, unless she does something big and shiny.
That Which Consumes Peace- A fool, disobeying the Boss, but made a nice save, getting Shukra mildly punished.
Ekushka- Hasn't met her yet.
Narza- Is quite fond of the little ghost, curretly.
Shukra- A pompous ass who fails at commanding.
Darkwraith Kor- A good fighter, like Athinar, who shares his bloodlust. Enjoys his company.
Azavarn- Too flamboyant.
Umbra/Christopher- Thinks that Christopher is a bit off, but doesn't know why.
Torrens- Doesn't have any opinion of him, but thinks that a fire demon might be useful.
Clotho- Has a strange fixation on Clotho's chitin.
Twitch- Has disdain for the ratty, well, twitchy kobold. Maybe if he actually did something, he might be useful.
Backstory: Athinar is the reincarnated form of an ex-Dungeon Keeper, banished from his former world, and born to a new life in this one. However, he don't remember shit, and the only benefits were the impressive physical abilities you see today. He was born to an order of monks, who trained him in every combat style, unarmed and armed. However, this revealed his darker secret, his love for shedding blood. Killing them all, he was guided by a voice in his head, who told him that if he joined with him, he'd get to kill, kill, and keep killing. So he met up with the Dungeon Keeper, and started killing.
Other: If Athinar seems too powerful, remember that he was converted to the Dungeon Keeper's cause by him just saying that he could kill people if he joined him. He's not dumb, but he does have quite the one-track-mind, and is quite susceptible to manipulation, in both forms. Like, REALLY susceptible. A novice hypnotist could put him to sleep. |
9,512 | 268 | 71 | 351 | 2,364 | When Twich was given his latest task from the Master, a part of him was somewhat annoyed that he was being called away from his experiments so soon after they had began. Granted they were only the preliminary tests but being absent for them might result in him losing information and delaying his research.
While not ideal, Twich managed to rope a couple of Imps into staying in his lab and gave them some basic instructions; They were never to touch the bodies, they were to observe and keep note of anything out of the ordinary that happened and if one of them died they were to write down the time of their death (Twich had made sure his clock was properly freshly winded up for just that purpose). It was the best he could do under such a sudden deadline through...
Speaking of the mission that he had been given, Twich's mind was already combing through his current set of objectives and the information that the Master had to provide for the third time as it tried to piece together a plan of action. He already had a fairly decent way to pin it on the humans and have already sent a messenger to the Master requesting at least two weapons and two sets of armor from whatever passed for the town watch from that village that they had raided the day before. A second messenger had been dispatched to whatever lair That Which Consumes Peace had taken for itself with a request that it carefully pick two of its slaves to come with them; They would not be coming back.
At least there was the starting of a plan; First and foremost they needed more intel but that would have to wait for them to arrive there. Taking the time to make sure he had his supplies topped up, the kobold went to meet with the rest of his team and get underway. | Name:
Twich
Physical Form:
Abilities:
Smarter then thou: What Twich lacks in physical strength and size, he makes up for with a cruel cunning, a twisted intellect and a surprisingly strong will.
Alchemist Training: There are only two things that an alchemist needs to be able to do in order to be a good alchemist; The ability to flip a table and be on the other side of it when what they are working on explodes and the ability to know exactly when to do this. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
If you don't want to eat it just because it has some mold growing on it, hand it over.: Twich is a kobold. They can eat just about anything regardless of how rotten its become just fine without ill effect. They are also immune to horrible smells that would make others sick.
Love the BOOM!: There is something about arson and explosions that just appeals to Twich's soul. The fact that he is very good at creating things that explode and set things on fire makes his inner hatchling very happy.
WHY?! FOR SCIENCE!: Twich doesn't always create or tamper with things to make them explode or catch fire (At least, not as the end goal). Often he likes to create concoctions or perform experiments for a large number of reasons, more often then not because he felt like it or just wants to see if the current theory in his head has any basis in reality.
Personality:
Those who meet Twich would surprisingly discover that he is, above everything else, quite civil. Those above or greater then him will get the recognition that they deserve of course but those of equal and even lower standing will be treated with professional, polite conversation when talking with Twich. They will also quickly discover that he is quite 'mad'; His mind seems to operate on a completely different wavelength then everyone around him and he often views the world far differently from other people as well.
If one really wants to see him in his prime however, all they need to do is suggest a possible alchemy or science experiment within Twich's hearing range. The quest for discovery and knowledge burns within him brighter then the flames of hell themselves; Despite this he has made it quite clear to several demons that have offered him deals for knowledge and alchemist/scientific discoveries in exchange for his soul that he is not interested because 'That was the path of cowards and fools'.
Even the most evil of beings would find the calm, professional and somewhat detracted approach that Twich takes with his experiments rather... unnerving. Almost all of his experiments are performed on live test subjects... often without their knowledge let alone consent.
Wants/Needs: A bigger lab, more resources and freedom to explore with his various fields of science and alchemy. First pick of any group of slaves and captives with no questions asked as to why he wants/needs them. The right to take any student that he wishes.
Relationships: Fairly civil, shows the needed respect to those that require it.
Backstory: Twich was born to the Snakebiter tribe, a kobold tribe that had its tunnels located underneath a somewhat poisonous swamp. Taken to be trained as an alchemist rather early on when he showed he had a knack for it, Twich rather quickly learned everything that his tribe knew about it and found himself consumed by the desire to learn more. At first traveling to other kobold tribes to study, Twich soon found himself learning from many of the other underworld denizens in exchange for his services; At times he even found teachers among the more open minded of the surface dwelling races. When he ran out of teachers who could offer him new knowledge, Twich wasn't satisfied. He needed to know more and that meant he needed to create more things to learn himself.
This is rather challenging as an independent working alone... but with the raise of the Master and his 'Hordes of Darkness', Twich found a patron who could make his dreams and desires a reality in exchange for his services.
Other: - |
9,513 | 268 | 72 | 2,751 | 60 | Shukra received word of what was to be done, and sighed. No rest for the wicked, as the saying went. He took a sip of the stale mead the orcs had made, and let out a sigh. A larger village, wanted intact, with sizable defenses. He took another sip from the stone mug, then grunted. And the master put a bloodthirsty barbarian in charge of an operation like this. It was foolish, madness, idiotic. Some of the orcs around him could see his frustration, and began to make themselves scarce. His frustration often led to someone getting burned, and while it was rare that someone died because of it, no one wanted to be out of commission and miss a raid. But, as it were, he didn't want any of them out either. There was no telling what the others would bring, but he was going to bring as few of his own as possible to the fight. He wouldn't get them all killed in whatever hairbrained scheme Athinar cooked up.
The enchanted equipment had been handed out, but those men would stay behind and lead in his absense. It seemed that he would be out in the field more than he would be conquering the mountains, as he wished. No matter. The orcs weren't going anywhere. They had no drive, simply killing and eating, living like animals. All the better to make them his. They were weak minded, easily pliable. He would correct that with the introduction of humans to his forces, but for now, he'd have to rely on his own mind and their brute strength. It would be enough, for now. The cat scratched his chin, then stood and began rounding up some forces. Now that he thought about it, he might benefit himself by coming in full. Ah, decisions, decisions.
Rather than consult with his own forces, he began to make his way towards his quarters. Which consisted of little more than a large pavilion made of animal hides crudely stitched together, with a bed, chair, and desk inside of it. He sat at the desk, facing a tall, wide mirror. He mumbled a few words and passed his hand over the mirror, and in to view came Athinar, who was just now shouting for the others that were put under his command. Rolling his eyes, he tapped on the glass. "Athinar, turn around," he said, his rich voice coming from behind the oaf. There would be am image of Shukra, just his head and shoulders, but there. He narrowed his eyes slightly, then said, "My forces and I await orders." His voice was calm and cold, showing his obvious lack of respect for Athinar. | Name: Shukra
Gender: Male
Race: Rakshasa
Physical Form: Standing at a proud seven feet even, Shukra is a monster to behold, with flowing black fur the color of ash with stripes that glow like flames. His eyes glow the orange of fire, and his maw is filled with razor sharp teeth like his tiger cousins. Each finger is tipped with a razor sharp claw, and a long tail swishes behind him. Few have survived the attempt of touching it. Adorning his body is a suit of ancestral armor, worn by the honor guard of the ancient Rakshasa emperors, made of an unknown metal and inlaid with gold. Aga, his sword, lays on his hip, made of the same metal as his armor and covered in a runes that glow like embers.
Skills/Abilities
Voice of the Emperor - A gentle reminder that he is your better. Every word he says will influence the thoughts of the weak willed and unintelligent towards what he wants.
Breath of the Dragon - Fire is his ally, and so he has garnered an immunity to its effects, and can manipulate natural fires or create his own through magic.
Strength of the Tiger - He is naturally tougher and stronger than most other races, and has, at one point, torn an orc chieftain in half with his bare hands.
Speed of the Snake - While he is not the fastest man to live, he can outrun any human with ease, and his reflexes are far superior to most others.
Blade of the East - He is a good swordsman, but by no means the best.
Personality: Shukra is confident that he, because of his race, if not himself as a person, is superior to all others, especially others. As such, he will rarely give the time of day to others he sees as below him, and those that he has managed to come to terms with as them being his equal, he will at least attempt to be civil with them, in his own special way as an ass. The rare occasion he'll find someone who has proven themself to be his superior, he's found an unnatural and unhealthy obsession with being under their service. Up until the point where he's confident enough to kill them and take their place, but with the current Dungeon Master, he is unsure of his ability to do so. However, he does have a soft spots for his servants, and gets legitimately enraged when he finds out his lackeys have been killed.
Wants/Needs: Shukra wants one thing: To restore the glory of the Rakshasa, even if he is the only one left. Land, subjects, and cities to lord over are what he wants, for those that are lesser than him to submit and become become his, one way or another. That, and to become strong enough to deserve the title of King.
Backstory: In the jungles to the east, there are stories of the rakshasas, demonic tiger men that lorded over lesser races. They were brought down by great heroes, or sealed away by powerful mages. But, there were some that managed to escape persecution by their servants and peasants. Shukra, once a steward and guard to a more powerful rakshasa. He escaped, and went into a dormant state. However, he was recently awakened by a clan of orcs, deep underground. Shukra is unsure of how he got there, but after slaying the chieftain of the orcs, he took command of their clan and drove them to the surface, forcing them to become strong, smart, cunning. He's lead them close to the surface, where others of their kind and other degenerates forced underground by the humans to hide and cower have gathered. That is where he shall begin his ascent, and return to glory.
Other: His sword, Aga, is made of an unknown metal and covered in red runes that glow like embers. Because of the magic in these runes, the sword is impervious to rust, will never dull, and will never dent, and is immune to all but the strongest of magics. He also has a clan of orcs under his command, which is convenient at times.
The Vorhaas Clan |
9,514 | 268 | 73 | 2,049 | 6,923 | Azavarn didn't bother sleeping, mainly do to the fact that he didn't need to, so he had spent his night in the dungeon's tavern, though it would be more suitable to call it a filthy hole in the ground. The demon's evening consisted of out drinking the imps, no easy feat given the pigswill that they were serving, and swindling them out of whatever trinkets they were willing to bet. It was only a matter of time that one of the imps spilled the news that Azavarn would be heading out on the next raid, and to be lead by one of the humans no less. So he took it upon himself to wait in the larger cavern in the cave, and just as he thought Athinar came there and began to bellow for those who would be joining him. " 'Bout time you woke up boss, thought I was going to have to wait all day. I don't have eternity you know... Wait I actually do." Azavarn said with his usual sly smile on his face, he was seated on a near by bolder. He got up and walked over to the muscle bound human just as the fur ball Shukra appeared. He couldn't help but smirk, the 'warlord' had quite the ego didn't he. "As great as it would to have the orcs around, I don't think they would be great for this action. You know keeping the town unflattened." He said as he looked at the mirror image of the cat man. "Though, if I may be so bold as to give to advice, I would recommend that you order your forces to surround the town. They would make quite the useful neat for catching any runaways." He said before he turned on his hill to face Athinar. "And our oh so brawny leader may I suggest that you allow me to do what I do best and make a deal?" He said in a calm tone. "You put some muscle down on the little settlements around the town, let word get back to whoever is in charge. With the panic of an attack on their mind making a deal for ownership of the village will be easy." | "I'm the daringest devil you ever met, love."
Name
Azavarn, The King Of The Crossroads, Lord Of The Deal
Physical Form
Azavarn is rather human looking for a demon. He stands at 6'4" in height and has a lean, muscular body build. He has long crimson hair that hangs down to the back of his neck and a beard of the same color that runs along his jawline. The only things that breaks the illusion of Azavarn's humanity would be his skin, it being ash grey, as well as his eyes which are a deep blood red and give off a faint glow. He wears a series of pitch black clothes, such as his leather trench coat, black combat boots, and his wide brim hat.
Abilities
"I Just Make It Look Easy."
Azavarn's physical abilities are far sharper than those of a normal mortal's. He moves so fast that he appears like a mere blur of movement. He is so agile and dexterous that he can grab an arrow out of the air and throw it back at its original shooter. He can preform flips, dodges, jumps, and other maneuvers that would put the most talented acrobats to shame.
"I Don't Miss, Darling."
Azavarn is a marksman with no compare, his accuracy is beyond that of mortal men. He can pin a fly to a tree with a single arrow from three-hundred yards away without killing it. He can draw and fire arrows with such speed that he seems like a one man firing squad. His mindboggling marksman skills are not limited to just a bow and arrow, from knives to or pistol if it can be thrown or fired Azavarn will assure it will hit its mark. He has quite recently throwing cards, they are quite good at giving Azavarn the cutting edge.
"Now You See Me, Now You're Dead."
Azavarn is able to step into one of the many passage ways into the hellish Netherworld and use them to transport himself across the mortal world, to others it will appear that he teleports.
"It Is A Bit Cramped In Here."
Azavarn has the ability to possess the bodies of those with a weaker will or those who have sold their soul, completely controlling them. Those with a stronger will can fight back, though it will be incredibly painful for them to try and force Azavarn out. Azavarn can be exorcised with the proper holy items and rituals.
"Lets Make A Deal."
Does a mortal want to be the best sword fighter in their backwater village? No problem. Do they want to be the most breath taking maiden in all the land? Done. Or maybe they want to be so rich that they sleep on a bed of gold? Easy. All of this can be done with a simple deal with Azavarn, and all he would ask for in exchange for is one itty bitty soul. Once a deal is struck there is no going back on it and that soul belongs to Azavarn for the rest of time, or he decides to release it to whomever he sees fit.
Personality
Do you know that no good, snake in the grass that swindled every coin in his pocket away from someone else and would sell there own grandmother if it meant they would get them a good stiff drink? Yeah Azavarn is the guy that taught that guy everything he knew. This demon has a tongue of pure silver, being able to talk the purest angels into sin. The majority of what comes out of Azavarn's mouth is either a sarcastic remark or a incredibly charming lie. He keeps his cool all the time, regardless if he is making a deal with a mortal or if he is in the heat of battle Azavarn keeps the same sly confidence. This demon can be described as the perfect businessman, getting a man to sign away the souls of his whole family for a sack of potatoes. Azavarn has a black heart, caring for nothing and no one save for himself. The way he sees it others are resources to be used to obtain his goals.
Wants/Needs
Azavarn just wants his right to steal, gamble, trick, torture, and kill his little black guts out back. Let him run his business and you will have a happy little demon on your hands.
Relationships
Who do you think coordinates all those demons making deals with so many mortals? Someone has to be in charge and hold all those souls and Azavarn just so happens to be the right kind of clever, evil bastard for the job. Azavarn runs the whole network of crossroad demons that spread across the land, he knows each and every soul that has been sold, stolen, or given away.
Backstory
"You want to know my story? Well pull up a chair, it is story time kiddos! Where do I begin? Hmmm a yes! Once upon a time there was a stunningly handsome demon. He was a master of his trade, helping poor poor mortals get the lives the always dreamed of and asking for so little in return, just their soul. This demon was so great at his job that he was dubbed, The King Of The Crossroads. Things were perfect for the king for a long time, countless amounts of souls coming in, but that all changed when the horrid age of "peace" began. Demon after demon were killed, deals came to a near halt, and the King had to go into hidings. That was about a thousand years ago and now the King is on the rise again, he has been getting more and more deals, more and more demons working for him, and more and more souls. It is only a matter of time before he is on top again! Now what will it take for me to get my hands on that pretty little soul of yours?"
Other
Azavarn is at home in the tavern, it being the perfect place for his work. With the ale flowing and egos boasting making a deal is child's play. It also helps to be so damn good looking and able to drink enough grog and ale that could kill the drunkest of orcs. |
9,515 | 268 | 74 | 1,449 | 5,930 | The rabbit took some wrangling to remove from its little box and keep in place upon the table, but it was nothing that the swarm queen couldn't do. With the alchemist and his young assistant looking on in fearful but intrigued anticipation, Clotho pinned the small animal on the table and held up her left hand. From a groove in the palm, a short, bladelike prong emerged, leaking a dark liquid that glistened in the yellow-green firefly-lanterns' light. Once her stinger had fully extended, Clotho reached down toward the captured mammal's belly and nicked the skin beneath its scrubby brown fur.
The changes were immediate. Growing very still but for the occasional twitch, the rabbit began to slough off its hair. Where the fur fell off, greenish plates of chitin formed, taking on a rough similarity to segmented plate armor. Legs grew longer, and a third pair began to branch from the middle of the bunny's torso. Its ears hardened and curved inward, like the prongs of a Hercules beetle, and even the texture of its eyes altered until the thing's vision was compounded. Spiky mandibles extended around its mouth, and its teeth grew sharp while joining to the gums. “Fascinating,” Clotho breathed. “Now for the moment of truth.” She let the miniature monster go.
Predictably, it remained statuesque except for the constant motion of its orange eyes. This gratified Clotho immensely. “The prototype serum is satisfactory. Subject's body structure has been altered immensely, and...” she gave a sharp, high-pitched chirp, and the former rabbit rolled onto its back. “...it is fully receptive to instruction. Congratulations, alchemist Omer,” she said to the man. “It would appear that you're useful to me after all. I understand the knowledge is limited, but please continue to work on the serum as much as you can. Work assured that if you do well I shall not use it on you. Soon I will leave, and you know what fate awaits you should you venture out of my hive.”
At that moment, an imp rushed into the room. Before it could even blink, Clotho had reacted, her rapier drawn and nestled against its throat, prompting a terrified squeak. If she'd still have been human, Clotho would have rolled her eyes. “Announce your presence next time, small one,” she chided as she replaced her rapier on her back. “I am not fond of surprises. Do you have news from the Master?”
Afterward, Clotho was pleased indeed. “Dwarves...master builders and engineers, and less well known, alchemists. This could be exactly the thing you need to complete my transformation toxin.” She zipped into the hive's main atrium, where the bulk of her forces spent their time. Looking down upon on Myrmidons, Antlions, and Lambent, she silently thanked the Master for giving her an opportunity for her minions to shine. A series of clicks and shrieks communicated everything that Clotho required, and soon after she emerged from her dungeon with her minions not far behind. At the entrance, she encountered Twitch, who the imp had said would be joining her on the mission. “Hello again, whiskered one. The Master has trusted us with a task most important. I am sure the both of us will prove beyond a doubt's shadow that we are worthy of his trust.” A quick look around determined the absence of Ekusha and That Which Consumes Peace. “The demon and the spirit have not yet arrived?” | Name: Clotho
Physical Form: Clotho is a foot taller than most men, with long arms and legs, and has a chitinous exoskeleton that is a dull brown-maroon in color. Four gossamer rounded wings, transparent green with orange edges, form into a cloak when not in use. Her shell forms into a barbaric-style armor around her shoulders, knees and thighs, gauntlets, and chest. Small spikes line many of the edges of her shell. Her face is crossed with seams, her nose is inhumanly sharp, and her wide mouth is lined with razor-sharp teeth. A shock of black hair more like spines protrudes from the top of her head. Additionally, her eyes are a bright, luminescent green, with layered pupil rings. Instead of hair, two membranous mini-wings protruding from her upper back form into a hood.
Abilities: Clotho's wings grant her the power of flight, which she can perform with almost ludicrous speed and agility. Her insect carapace functions like armor, affording her ample protections. Hidden inside her left forearm is the Stinger, which she can project from her palm for stabbing. The Stinger can inject a variety of toxins into a target, all of which are manufactured chemically within Clotho's own glands. Such toxins include 'poison', 'paralysis', 'mutation', 'subordination', 'blindness', and 'calcification'.
Cloth also has the ability to command bugs and parasites. Aside from conjuring flies, hornets, leeches, worms, and flesh-eating beetles, sometimes in vast swarms, she also controls her own minions in the form of Myrmidons, Lambent, and Antlions. These she orders around via chirp-calls, and she has no true leadership ability.
The true combat ability of Clotho, however, lies in her rapier. With a barbed tip, it can slide into flesh cleanly and eviscerate it on the way out. Its flexible blade allows Clotho to lash the tip around when fighting, cutting and gashing opponents as she opens them up for a thrust. Its deceptive deadliness, couple with Clotho's uncanny speed and notable strength, make it a lethal tool of destruction.
Personality: A certain conflict underlies Clotho's convincing exterior. Deep inside she is still Nona, confused and reticent and immature. This directly disparages with the aged experience of the that melded its soul with hers, whose bloodthirsty monstrosity has guided her thus far as a Keeper. The union of the two distinct spirits produced Clotho, a cunning, intelligent imperialist. Clotho is without conscious barring the distant, faint murmurs of the suppressed girl within her, and will kill without question, though good judgment keeps her from exercising this often. Though self-centered, she is more than willing to make alliances and deals for mutual gain, and will even adhere to them—an behavior unheard of among most such creatures.
Wants/Needs: Clotho lusts for power and control. She wants nothing more than to rise through the ranks of her master and become both his most powerful warrior and most trusted ally. Eventually, Clotho wishes to gain the ability to become a Dungeon Keeper herself, though she does not plan whatsoever on betraying her current master.
Relationships: None
Backstory: Clotho was once human, an urchin of Virens. This premier logging town, situated in the Oerwood Forest north of the Saploya river, was home to over two hundred thousand, but never truly to a girl called Nona. Surviving by her wits and her knack for finding odd jobs, she later became reliant on the family of Theo Rosenstern. Theo, playing the nobleman as well as the romantic, sought to feel better about his own clan's success and gain a girlfriend in the process by hanging out with Nona and helping her get by. Ever in need of aid, Nona accepted, forming an uneasy relationship with the boy while trying to make ends meet. From a young age, the Biomancer's Guild of Virens, responsible for the magical acceleration of conditioning of the city's saplings and crops, had fascinated her, but her own lowly beginnings and ineptitude for magic estranged her from the organization.
It was in this stagnation, during her nineteenth year of a woeful life, that a voice first reached out to her through her dreams. Its whispers, low and meaningless at first, grew in strength as she became more desperate, and finally its message became clear: journey into the jungle and find a special insect. After convincing Theo to accompany her, Nona left in the morning to pursue her dream. Hours later, she arrived in an unpeopled lumber camp miles from the city limits. Upon entering the shack at its center, she beheld a nasty-looking metallic green wasp confined in a jar. In a trance, she seized the jar -totally unresponsive to Theo's urges- and smashed it against the ground, freeing the wasp. Immediately it stung her, injecting into her the ancient soul of an insidious being of darkness—Kafka.
The two minds, girl and monster, melded, and in the process her own body transformed into its current state. Long before the modification finished, Theo took to his heels. That day, Clotho came to be.
From there she imposed herself on the forest, thinking to become a force of darkness. Though the self-appointed Vermin Queen stockpiled quite the retinue of mindless insectoid minions, and gave the nearby towns a great deal of trouble, she never quite lived up to the status of an evil overlord. After a botched attempt to obliterate her former hometown caused an army of avenging townsfolk to converge on her lair, she fled south until she happened to find one of the Overlord's bands. After wiping the plains with them, she sought the Overlord's dungeon, and pledged her service to him without question. |
9,516 | 268 | 75 | 640 | 262 | Over the past few hours Umbra watched Christopher solemnly as he played with a few small wooden toys and an imp. They seemed to have taken a liking to each other, but soon the Master’s orders had arrived and Umbra was sent off onto another raid with Athinar as the commander. In response he quickly possessed the nearby imp and turned towards Christopher “It seems I will be needing this imp's body for a bit. Try not to get hurt while I’m gone.”
Christopher being both slightly naive and overconfident responded “What could possibly hurt me here when I have all these powerful monsters protecting me?”
If only Christopher had realized those ‘monsters’ were exactly what Umbra was afraid of. Luckily enough for Christopher, none have paid much attention to him and hopefully it will stay that way as long as they have other ‘toys’ to play with.
As he was approaching Athinar’s location he could loudly hear him shout in the distance. When Umbra had finally arrived to Athinar’s location watched both Shukra and Azavarn make a show out of their arrival, whether they had realized it themselves or not. Umbra on the other hand chose to quietly walk up to the group and sit off to the side. Considering he was in the body of an imp he would most likely draw little attention, which he was fine with. | Ekusha, the Vain
Physical Form:5'4; petite build.
Tattoos animate (shift positions, change entirely, etc).
Long black hair, nearly reaching waist-level.
Pitch-black pupils.
Mezzo-soprano voice.
Abilities:Exerts influence upon lesser beings, mimicking hypnosis, through various means:
Fear, by preying on insecurities.
Lust, through worldly temptations.
Anger, with impassioned words.
Adapts and evolves external persona to thrive.
Leadership skill set, grand advisor:
Political strategist.
Military tactician.
Economic genius.
Incarnates at will into any one realm.
Can observe and interact without corporeal form.
Exists as a single Cartesian point.
Shapeshifter in physical being.
Personality:Externally appealing and persuasive, especially to lesser beings.
Knows how to kiss some ass to get her way.
Ambitious, but selfish and arrogant about her own success.
Vain when successful, and envious otherwise.
Wants/Needs: Ekusha desires attention in general, whether it be through worship, fame, or influence. Her spirit is immortal, but her power is derived from her more susceptible and impressionable followers (overworld inhabitants, weaker spirits, lesser angels/demons, etc). Her greatest fear is fading into irrelevance, and therefore she is compelled to substantially impose herself on others.
Relationships: Ekusha easily makes and breaks connections, enjoying a degree of self-imposed solitude when she feels is appropriate and dealing with others when it proves advantageous. In this new apocalypse, she is open to getting all the help she can, so long as she gets her cut.
Dungeon Keeper: -
Athinar Gol-Gaia: -
Yappo: -
Emily Kabal: -
That Which Consumes Peace: -
Narza: -
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher: -
Shukra, the Rakshasa: -
Kor, the Darkwraith: -
Tinkerhel: -
Azavarn: -
Umbra: -
Torrens Igneus: -
Clotho: -
Twitch, the Snakebiter: -
Wold, the Dragon: -
Backstory: Throughout time, Ekusha has played a variety of roles in various realms: from grand despot, to military commander, to religious icon, to many other minor roles. She has also, in other instances, fooled many into believing her to be a deity or demon, but she is merely a spirit with no true celestial or infernal affiliation. Her allegiance is ultimately towards herself.
She is cunning in her ways, seeking power in any form available to her. She enjoys being idolized, and being able to use her influence to subjugate all beings through speech and slaughter. She has fought countless battles, and fled her own destruction just as many times. She puts herself in constant conflict with the many idols the world has produced, and her power constantly cycles between significance and non-existence.
Now, Ekusha comes to the Dungeon Keeper in hopes of securing power. She wants to conquer for herself an empire that will last until eternity. She wants subjects across all lands, in all realms, that stand before her. She sees the Dungeon Keeper as a messiah, his apocalypse a revolution, and herself an empress in the making.
Other:Often found observing from the universal sidelines, when not inhabiting any particular realm.
Incalculable amounts of experience in rising to power, over the course of countless lifetimes. |
9,517 | 268 | 76 | 1,270 | 2,337 | Octavius left without ceremony, taking all his personal possessions so no one could cast against him while he was gone. He and tinker looted the larder for two weeks rations and wine from the most recent raid before leaving on summoned mounts. They would ride east along the orcish mountains to come around to the town dressed as adventurers, he as a fighter and her as a bard.
They were successful warriors who slapped some orcs around and had some gold to spend. He was looking for a wizard to identify some magic items or a priest for some divination. They made a bit of a scene of themselves, all the sooner to be the flash in the pan and forgotten by townsfolk. Soon enough they would be part of the scenery as the gold ran low and they looked for small jobs in the city to keep the coppers rolling in. | Name:
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher, "The Dashing Bastard"
Physical Form: "I put the gore in gorgeous!"
6'6" and 300 of tight body tone. Unarmored, he has a score of scars running him over from a decade in the arenas. His eyes are a fine gray with a catlike shimmer of silver in the back.
Abilities:
Curse; The cornerstone of the hexblade, the ability to lay a witches malicious befuddlement upon intended targets. Not an attack in of itself, it is a go-to weakening of the enemy before engaging. He often pairs the curse with a memorized intimidation to follow up and bring most to cower before finishing them off in a single blow.
Resistance; Like a paladin, he can rely on his sheer strength of will to help shrug off attacks to mind body and soul.
Mettle: Those that he cannot avoid, he tries do bear down and endure, taking the lesser of the worlds woes when he has the chance.
Prestidigitation: Because of the hexblade's calling, Octavius' desire to know more about his arcane abilities manifests itself beyond the ability to curse and the he is able to cast minor prestidigitations at will.
(Item) familiar: Where most would bond to a creature from elsewhere for more power, he has strengthened the bond with his sword to a supernatural level.
Aura of unluck: Once per day Octavius can create a baleful aura of misfortune. Any melee or ranged attack made against the hexblade while this aura of unluck is active has a higher miss chance. Activating the aura is a free action, and the aura lasts for a full minute.
Spells: Like a sorcerer, he uses his sheer strength of will to manifest magic in the world. He just severely lacks the dedication most others would possess by this time.
0 Message
0 Dancing lights
0 Mage hand
0 Detect magic
0 Acid splash
0 Distupt undead
1 True strike
1 Shocking grasp
1 Color spray
1 Identify
2 Eagle splendor
2 Flaming sphere
Personality:
Truly Octavius' greatest strength is his overwhelming charisma, wielded as a weapon as much as his sword. He brings it to bear to cow the most stalwart of enemies and draw up the crowds to a screaming frenzy in the arena.
He is a patient man in combat, often letting the others go first before he devastates them.
He had devoted his life to death, Hades specifically, as a way to deal with the loss of his family. But one can only lash out for so long. In time the burn in his hearth grew cold and hollow so he turned to ways to fill the hole, most often drinking and tavern wenches. But in the end he still fell back to his oldest friend, death. Its more of a bad habit than an addiction, but every week he makes his way to some manner of arena to put himself in the ring.
He's smarter than he ever lets on, by no means is he a genius with lifetimes of knowledge. He's just more experienced that he'd like to be in the way the world works. The best thing he always reminds himself 'always assume they are better than you in every way and plan to fail'.
Relationships:
Since his arrival, he has taken a keen interest in Tinkerhel, She might be a nymphomaniac, but he thinks there is a whole lot more going on in her head.
Backstory:
Octavius' tale is not at twisted as many might think. His parents were simple farmers, his grandfather was a retired army officer who was too maimed to bear spear. When his chores were done for the day, his grandfather would train him in a longsword so big the boy needed both hands to wield it.
Suns rose and set for a decade until the boy on cusp of manhood could now wield the longsword in a single hand. But now he was starting to think with the dagger between his knees and had his eye on the girl across the creek. They were promised to each other and their parents agreed to the union. Sadly, the fates have more in mind than a happy farmer.
A merchant cart heavy with goods came to the farm, asking for a night in the barn for a few silver, all was well until the bandits climbed out of crate and pot to slaughter the family. The boy did well by all accounts, with no armor and only a sword older than him to keep himself safe as he killed the bandit leader while the others ran. As he burned the bodies, he was visited by a lady paladin of Hercule and her ancient wizard. One of his first life lessons about the bigger world would be that halflings and dwarves clearly age differently.
She could see he was strong, strong enough to carry her stuff as his squire as he had nothing left for him here, indeed, he had no other ways to go but with them or try his own. He tried to learn magic cantrips from the wizard but had no luck compared to the combat she refined from what his father gave him. She was teaching him how to fight in armor, a skill he lacked, when they came upon a wizard of the dead.
They made their way to the wizards workshop when they came to discover he was just finishing his ritual to litchdom. The paladin took the undead in a full body tackle while the other two destroyed the phylactery, the wizard found it while Octavius shattered the device but it was too late to save her from its evil magic. The magic of the ritual burned its way into him and changed him to his very core.
Other:
His hat he got from a pirate captain to whom he served upon a ship for a year before a monster afflicted her, her hats own bubble of air was her own undoing.
At one time, he came upon a princess tiara as part of his treasure pull from a successful kidnapping of royalty. In order to dispose of the royal artifact, he had the enchantment transfered to a single jewel worn as a third eye and let them keep the rest of the encrusted property one worn by a queen as payment.
While worn, a third eye conceal protects the wearer from view by all devices, powers, and spells that detect, influence, or read emotions or thoughts. This power protects against all mind-affecting powers and effects as well as information-gathering by clairsentience powers or effects.
Given his propensity for tavern wenches and the like, he was quick to acquire a trinket from the temple of Aphrodite The wearer of this blue gem on a silver chain is immune to disease, including supernatural diseases.
Collected from the skin of a displacer beast, he had its pelt fashioned into his sleeveless longcoat with its powers still within the folds.
Worn inside out to hide its value, he keeps a vest once worn by a pyromancer who was dumb enough to think his innerfire was more powerful than a white dragon. Octavius managed to convince the dragon that the vest would melt the beasts home so he would take it far away while the dragon ate the former wizard for lunch.
Collected from a gnome adventuring party, he managed to run three through on his blade but only kept the one treasure.
1) Mount
2) Slumber
3) Phantasmal Killer
A most useful glove he keeps on hand, it once belonged to an assassin who would use it to bring all manner of gear in a backpack hidden in the stitching. When not used to hide his sword from public eye, he is often known to put his hand into a bucket full (20 pints/2.5 gallons) of holy water and secure it away for dealing with fiery or unholy creatures.
Two small but simple rings in his line of work,
A dwarven ring warded to protect the wearer from evil is actually a good choice when traveling with evil on a daily basis.
As powerful as a ring of invisibility, but far better for him as it makes eight more of him appear rather than make him vanish.
Made from the hide of a Steel dragon parading around as a priestess to Athena, she was fought and slain on her monthly hunt while she was fat and full of a heard of sheep they had left for her as an ambush. When crafted into armor, he had the choice to make the leather immune to acid or protect the wearer from poison, he took the poison protection. In truth it protects him as a full suit of armor as strong as platemail but glamored to be debatable levels of leather and hide piecemeal to suit his ego.
A prize from the arenas, once worn by a master of unarmed combat, this rope belt keeps him far more flexible than he ever could be without it.
Acquired from a fellow raider, a barbarian far from home who could outrun almost anything but a cup of envenomed wine.
These boots let him move faster than normal for moments at a time, acting as a blur when speed was needed over power.
Tattoo:
Psychoactive skin:
Morningstar
An lesser weapon best put to use when three feet of steel isn't recommended. He really hopes to replace it with a mace of disruption soon enough.
Shield
There are times when running around half naked with a greatsword isn't the best plans. When he has to play the defensive position, he uses a heavy shield with a depiction of Gaia upon it as she is of the earth as is hades.
Throwing Axe
When he needs to reach out and touch someone. He is also known to take a moment for himself to relax with all manner of pungent herb or alchemical paste into the bowl on the back.
His gift from beyond. Once, when he was a much younger lad, he traveled as a squire under a paladin of Hercules and her elderly wizard friend into the keep of a vile necromancer. Unfortunately there is a big difference between necromancer and a newly formed litch! Thinking quickly, the paladin took her bag of holding and threw it over them both to pop it away into a pocket realm for just a few seconds as the squire smashed the Phylactery on the work table. The litch turned to dust within the bag and the paladin sacrificed herself for the greater good. Octavius had an idea. He had the wizard use his magic to transmute the holy cold-iron plate-mail of the paladin to the litch dust and he had a greatsword forged from the coldiron dust.
This weapon is a Bane of the undead both solid and ghostly. Its supernaturally keen edge can store the simplest of enchantments within its Damascus folds for release at his will.
Why would a worshiper of the god of death have such enmity to the undead? To KEEP them in Tartarus where they belong!
Recently, he came upon a Devil who had a gift for Octavius. It seems the litch he had defeated so long ago had tried to use the phylactery as a bypass from the devils due. If the litch had succeeded it would have been most embarrassing and bad for business. So out of gratitude he offered the man one gift on credit, not the usual freebie sort of thing but the 'finders fee' of a wayward soul.
Thinking about it, he could easily wish to be the most or the best or the richest... but he had seen how that can bite you in the ass with previous people so he chose to keep it smaller, something he could live without; an extra enchantment on his blade. The two bickered back and forth on the who or what to be done but Octavius was rather stringent on not asking for too much, lest he rely on it too far.
In the end he got an idea from an assassin he used to know and had a small ruby inset into the pommel of his sword. This ruby would trap the soul of every victim of his sword for later that he could bring back to the devil for more credit. So far, Octavius cant find a problem with the deal and that bothers him. |
9,518 | 268 | 77 | 740 | 392 | That Which Consumes Peace smiles when he gets the news from Twich's messenger but frowns when he hears the plans for two of his humans. The demon appears beside the kobold.
"You cannot use my humans. Use your own. They are destined to die anyways." That then turns towards Clotho and Ekusha and gives a small nod of his head then turns back towards Twich and scowls. "You do not touch my humans, kobold. Either find a new plan, or use your own humans." The demon finishes the statement with a narrowing of his eyes. | Name: Emily Kabal, Spirit's Sonnet
Physical Form: Innoculious and cute, Emily is in every way a young human girl that draws little attention and can go wherever she wants to without anyone becoming sucpicious, and anyone who does think to stop Emily gets such a heart melting smile they can't help but let her go on. She has no physical Tell to inform a person there is more than meets the eye, and she wears casual peasant garb which further enhances her ability to slip in wherever and whenever she wants.
Abilities: Magic is Emily's forte, and she fortes brilliantly. There are few human warlocks who could compete with Emily by herself, and she is assisted in her magical talent by four Sung Spirits - a special branch of spirit that can only be summoned by singing, rather than ritual - which pushes her magical prowess far beyond what any mortal could ever dream of. The three spirits she hosts are Storm, Earth and Fire, with an Overseer spirit that watches the other three and posesses talent in their schools. Most of her spells are generic, if powerfully utalized, but the one unique spell she posesses is Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown. It does not exist in this dimension the same way that the rest of her magic does, and so she needs help from her Fire spirit and the Overseer to conjuer it. She creates the physical shell while her spirits fill it with the fire itself. Once that is done, Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown can be used in two differen manners. The first is a singular target, which upon impact incinrates them internally and externally at the same moment, making it effective even against armour or barriers - something to note is that if the target can absorb heat and fire, then they are super-charged by it rather than burned to a cinder. The second is a wide spread attack that causes an extremely hot fire to voraciously spread through the surrounding area, engulfing a small village in moments. The strain, both physically and magically, is considerable so it is not often used. Another rather personal, but not unique, ability is how Emily can use her fire as a sort of Afterburner, and fly through the sky. This is not very subtle, and causes her magics to drain at a constant rate, so she does not use it lightly. The third uncommon ability is her teleporting from Fire to Fire. This requires a pillar of flame to engulf Emily, and then a second Pillar of flame to drop her off. The disadvantage is that it causes disorientation and the second pillar can sometimes not be available.
Aside from magical abilities Emily can - obviously - sing very well, and enjoys simply singing for the thrill of it. She puts this to use summoning her spirits, most commonly Blanks which can posess weak-willed humans or recently dead cadavers and provide Emily with feedback and obidience. With slightly more effort, Emily can bind elemental spirits to herself - or though currently she is at her limit and wants to give her body time to adjust before getting more - and also to beings like Wolves, and Badgers, and Sheep. And humans, but they are usually not so cool and not so plentiful. Emily has a sharp mind as well, able to create a plan in a few moments and chain together her three magical elements, creating a combo that is able to take out massive creatures, well confident of their own abilities before they came face to face with this young girl. Physically, she is of a standard teenagers strength and durability, so she avoids close combat.
A final, and rather unknown power, is Emily's ability to percieve Magic. When it is being used, how much, and also the strength of the person she is looking at. This gives her a clear advantage over other magic users, since it allows her to see what theyr are about to use, and work around it. This technique turns her eyes pure gold, and drains her power at a constant rate, so extended useage is unadvisable.
Wants/Needs: While Emily is happy serving Master in every way, she does have a long-term goal to summon and bind Spitfire, The Fire King, Nike, The Earth King, and Minami, the Storm King.
Relationships: Other than her devotion to the Master, Emily fits in well with all kind of Spirits, so she is often found in the company of Umbra and Narza.
Backstory: Emily is a Homonculus, an artifically created Human, and the first sucess in a string of failures that created useless, deformed monstrosities. She was created with magical power in mind, so the creation process sacrificed the strength most artificals could posess in return for a much deeper magical pool. Some think that she does not have a soul because she was created, but that is a falicy, since even Homonculi need souls to exist. She was pushed, magically, to increase her power, and get stronger until a point where she could handle Sung Spirits inhabiting her. She summoned her first, a spirit of Fire, and after a few months of training and control, summoned even more spirits until she had the total of four she has now.
Other: ((Anything else that you want to mention?)) |
9,519 | 268 | 78 | 1,512 | 202 | Narza shivered as she thought back about the end of the raid, when the humans and loot were being divided up amongst the minions. I was totally invisible, and he looked right at me. Like he knew what I'd done, and was warning me. Like he was going to hit me next...
Of Derrik's memories of the Master, none were specific, but the general emotions came across clear as day. Awe, envy, and a generous amount of fear. As she consumed more souls, she could feel more and more of Derrik's memories. While most were rather dirty and perverted, detailing lurid and nasty encounters with various summoned creatures of the dark that Derrik used for personal pleasure, some were actually helpful, teaching Narza how to use Derrik's Magic. In addition, all the extra souls allowed Narza to actually absorb information from the souls as she tore them apart. Most of it was boring villager, but the priests led fairly interesting lives. Unfortunately, Narza could already feel that it was impossible for her to use the same magic as the priests.
---
A problem faced Narza. Derrik's giant chest of valuables was hers for the taking, as only the dark Mage himself could open it. Fortunately, holding Derrik's soul made her count as close enough to Derrik to bypass the magical protection. Unfortunately, the classic-looking wooden chest with golden trim was also enchanted to be weather-proof and spirit proof. For the vast majority of corporeal beings, this wouldn't be a problem. However, Narza was incorporeal and got by in daily life by using wind and water magic whenever she couldn't pass through things. Doorknobs, bodies, and imps were all usually opened up with gusts of wind and water. This meant that Narza's best attempts to open the chest were met with utter failure, as blast after blast of wind and water dissipated harmlessly upon the surface of the chest. Could she have asked someone else to open the chest for her? Certainly, but Narza was both too frustrated and too prideful to go to another for help.
"Stupid girl, why don't you just become solid for a moment?"
"Who the ogre-f***ing s***bag are you!?" Narza screeches, shooting up into the air in a panic.
"I'm your maker, now bow down you foolishly foul-mouthed peasant. I'm taking over this body now." Derrik orders arrogantly, assuming a tone of confidence and power.
"Eww, no!" Narza flat out refuses, crushing Derrik's mind under a torrent of the souls she had absorbed. A short while later...
"I give, I give!" Derrik cries out, submissive and apologetic in defeat. His mental strength was poor to begin with, which is why he had been absorbed so easily originally.
"Tell me how to become solid." Narza orders, their positions reversed.
"Just focus your thick spiritual energy into the shape of a limb and it should appear." Derrik answers meekly, still afraid he'd be tortured further.
In response, Narza tosses Derrik's soul back into the whirlpool of souls.
Before she could open the chest, a tremendous roar rings out through the cavern. The chest forgotten for now, Narza flies towards Athinar, eager to begin the next raid.
She turns visible sitting on Athinar's shoulders, looking like a pale little sister riding the shoulders of her big brother. "Hey Boss!" She leans over Athinar's head to see his face and smiles at him before straightening up. "Hiiii kitty!" Narza waves at the image of Shukra as well. "Hiya funny hat guy!" Narza waves at Azavarn next, and then at the imp hidden in the shadows. To others, it seemed like she had just waved at a mere imp, but Narza had sensed Umbra's unique soul situation immediately. Note: Any attempts to dislodge Narza will probably pass right through her. ^-^
Something or other, too tired to retrieve and paste in atm. | Name: Narza (unable to remember her last name)
Physical Form:
Chimeric Specter
Narza is an amalgamation of a wide variety of souls, brought about by a somewhat mediocre dark mage named Derrik. The dark mage combined, a few dozen tormented human souls, the soul of an innocent young human girl, freshly killed to serve as the catalyst, and three different Elementals, one of Wind, one of Water, and one of Darkness. Dreaming of power and infamy, Derrik aimed to create a fearsome tri-element familiar and make his familiar’s personality more easily controlled by using a young girl’s soul as the base. While the dark mage succeeded in fusing the souls, one of his more mediocre points showed in his binding abilities.
The chimeric spirit broke free and consumed the dark mage the split-second after it was born. Because the chimeric spirit hadn’t settled and solidified, it ended up absorbing the dark mage into its core, giving it some of the abilities of the dark mage as well. A battle for dominance over the soul ensued. The dark mage, already weakened by the fusion process, was unanimously dealt with by the other souls. The elementals fell next, overwhelmed by the many insane human souls. With the elementals gone, the tormented souls fell upon each other, tearing each other apart in mindless agony. In the end, only the soul of the young girl, added most recently (aside from the dark mage), was left intact. Her name was Narza.
Magic and Abilities:
Invisibility (turn invisible, simple for a ghost)
Incorporeal Form (she actually can’t touch things if she tried, currently)
Soul Steal (steal a target’s soul, works better on weaker and weakened targets)
Devour soul (grow stronger by consuming a soul, stronger souls are more difficult to consume but are worth more. Slightly increases her magical power.)
Possess Husk(take control of a soulless body. Allows Narza to take a physical form and use that body’s magic at a fraction of its strength. She can’t preserve its health until stronger.)
Elemental Affinity for Water/Ice
Elemental Affinity for Wind/Air
Flight (ghosts can naturally fly)
Resistant to poison (How would you poison a ghost?)
Soul Sense (Sense souls around Narza, souls have to be sensed before they can be interacted with afterall)
Soul Replacement (put a soul back into a soulless body.)
Locked: (until more souls are eaten and she grows stronger)
Soul Scour (rip apart a soul for information. Narza can learn a magic if she rips apart enough souls that know that magic. Also aids in digestion.)
Corporeal Form (become solid, taking any appearance)
Elemental Affinity for Darkness
Soul Fusion (combine stolen souls.)
Lightning (subtype of Wind/Air)
Weaknesses:
Fire/Heat
Earth
Holy/Light Magic
Sanctified ground/equipment
Holy Water (somewhat nullified by Water/Ice Affinity)
Due to Narza’s Wind/Water/Darkness affinity and spirit body, she’s doubly vulnerable to light and heat. She also can’t pass through the ground like normal ghosts until she’s stronger. Additionally, Narza cannot learn any magic of opposing elements. Has no skill with weapons.
Personality: Innocent, naive, and terribly hateful. Has the personality of a young girl, the ambition of a failed dark mage, and the hatred and anger of many dozens of tormented souls. As a former twelve-year old, Narza little knowledge of the world save for the bits absorbed from her shredded inhabitants, but is curious and sharp. She’s also spiteful and mischievous, with little moral direction even without factoring in the dark mage in her. When the malice of the tormented souls wrests free of her control as they will from time to time, she’ll seemingly lose her temper without warning. Occasionally, she will ask you for your soul out of the blue when her hunger gets to be too much.
Wants/Needs: Souls, especially magical ones or those of mages.
Relationships: Likes to hang out with fellow spirits such as Narza and Umbra.
Backstory: The dark mage Narza consumed left behind a slight sense of loyalty and responsibility to the Dungeon Keeper, so she asked to serve as well, and was accepted. She has inherited the Derrik's possessions, which are:
Basic clothing: Musty dark mage robes, all black and nefarious-looking. And smelling. Narza wouldn't wear them even if she could. (Not that she floats around naked, mind you. She wears what she wore when she died (but will be able to change that later.))
Basic alchemy set
Alchemy ingredient shelf, poorly stocked (previous owner wasn't big on alchemy)
Ritual circle, high-class but defective (Since Narza was able to break free)
Enchanted storage ring, low level, holding dust, empty alchemy flasks, and dirty clothing (has a capacity space of two square meters)
Basic elemental spell tomes: A beginner's guide to Fire Magic, A beginner's guide to Water Magic, A beginner's guide to Wind Magic, A beginner's guide to Earth Magic, A beginner's guide to Dark Magic (laying in a disorderly pile on the floor.)
Arlog's Thesis on soul-binding - Abridged version (another tome
Binding and Sealing - All you need to take a Familiar (Well leafed magic tome, and frozen solid)
Enchanted dagger, for rituals and self-defense. (Never dulls, and is sharper and tougher than normal. Holds a sinister miasma since it has been immersed in dark magic and taken the lives of many innocents in cold blood. Nothing special though.)
Scrying orb of low quality (See distant locations, but only from far away, or a specific location, but must have been there before.)
Staff of Darkness (An enchanted length of wood that make using dark magic slightly easier. Even a level One mage would start with better gear than this.
Mana-recovery trinkets (Barely worth wearing, and also too gaudy.)
Various spell books (all shelved, that Narza can't get to yet since she isn't corporeal. )
Enchanted treasure chest (enchanted to resist weather effects and only open to the owner, holding a mix of souls from different races)
Other: Would be classified as an Assassin/Mage I suppose. Will do anything for a soul. |
9,520 | 268 | 79 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens' face turned to a disappointed frown when he was told that he was not to burn anything. This would be the second time he had been sent on a mission and not been allowed to utilise the full extent of his abilities. However, if all did go well there would be fire of great strength. He did not fear the Muspelheim, for he was certain that no fire which produced heat or burned, however magical or exotic, could do him anything other than good. He did not worry about the Kitsune. There may be a great feast if he followed Emily, although in the long run it would do little benefit for that mission would be spent doing nothing and being unproductive, again.
Torrens rubbed his chin in deep thought, then asked, "So how are you summoning this Kitsune? Another massive rune, I suppose. If so, how do you plan on drawing it this time? Last time the village was completely distracted by the pillaging and raiders, but this time there are no such distractions. I doubt they'll just let you draw a massive rune across the entire village. And since you want everything intact the obvious option of me going in and setting things on fire and sowing panic is out. Did you have any plans?"
Torrens had decided that if he could be any use to Emily, then he would go with her. However, if it turned out that he would be doing nothing more than leeching off the spoils, he resolved that he would hold out for a proper mission, such as a raid, where he could prove his usefulness. Not that feasting on fires of great strength wasn't great and all, but he needed to think more long term. He had no hope of being granted things like soulflame if he gained a reputation of being lazy.
((Recall that news of Athinar's upcoming raid came after Emily's assignment)) | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,521 | 268 | 80 | 351 | 2,364 | Emily pondered for a moment, trying to think of a long-term benifit of Torrens coming. One that allowed him to be productive, coming along. Then she scoffed.
"Mortals don't see what they don't want to, or can't understand. Runes do not properly exist in this world until that which they are drawn for is cast. It's the same reason they can't percieve Death when he comes, before they human brain refuses to percieve that which it can not immidiately rationalize. Or though, I guess there would be an execption to that. Say, if Death was in a play, and people expected him to appear, then they would see him. Just, put away his appearance as good costume work" she then gathered herself, getting side-tracked again.
"But, as for productive, I guess it is a risk. I have a feeling that the Kitsune could grant you a greater understanding of the nature of your element, but it is possible that nothing could really happen. So, if you want to go on a raid, then I guess that would be the better of the two. I don't mean to offend, but you don't seem like the scholourly type who would seek enlightnment or absolute knowledge. Just, setting things on fire" She then remembered something, and held out her hand, a small, white flame blossomed into existance. Or rather, the casing of a flame, the actual casing was empty for several seconds, until a spark caught and filled the container, small as it was. The flame was also white, rather than the usual red or orange, which made it clear this was no ordinary fire.
"I don't expect any trouble now, but this is more of a future investment. If you ever run into any trouble, eat this. I am not sure how well it'll go down, butwhen it activates, it'll certainly outweigh any bad" she then held it out to Torrens, for him to take. | Name:
Twich
Physical Form:
Abilities:
Smarter then thou: What Twich lacks in physical strength and size, he makes up for with a cruel cunning, a twisted intellect and a surprisingly strong will.
Alchemist Training: There are only two things that an alchemist needs to be able to do in order to be a good alchemist; The ability to flip a table and be on the other side of it when what they are working on explodes and the ability to know exactly when to do this. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
If you don't want to eat it just because it has some mold growing on it, hand it over.: Twich is a kobold. They can eat just about anything regardless of how rotten its become just fine without ill effect. They are also immune to horrible smells that would make others sick.
Love the BOOM!: There is something about arson and explosions that just appeals to Twich's soul. The fact that he is very good at creating things that explode and set things on fire makes his inner hatchling very happy.
WHY?! FOR SCIENCE!: Twich doesn't always create or tamper with things to make them explode or catch fire (At least, not as the end goal). Often he likes to create concoctions or perform experiments for a large number of reasons, more often then not because he felt like it or just wants to see if the current theory in his head has any basis in reality.
Personality:
Those who meet Twich would surprisingly discover that he is, above everything else, quite civil. Those above or greater then him will get the recognition that they deserve of course but those of equal and even lower standing will be treated with professional, polite conversation when talking with Twich. They will also quickly discover that he is quite 'mad'; His mind seems to operate on a completely different wavelength then everyone around him and he often views the world far differently from other people as well.
If one really wants to see him in his prime however, all they need to do is suggest a possible alchemy or science experiment within Twich's hearing range. The quest for discovery and knowledge burns within him brighter then the flames of hell themselves; Despite this he has made it quite clear to several demons that have offered him deals for knowledge and alchemist/scientific discoveries in exchange for his soul that he is not interested because 'That was the path of cowards and fools'.
Even the most evil of beings would find the calm, professional and somewhat detracted approach that Twich takes with his experiments rather... unnerving. Almost all of his experiments are performed on live test subjects... often without their knowledge let alone consent.
Wants/Needs: A bigger lab, more resources and freedom to explore with his various fields of science and alchemy. First pick of any group of slaves and captives with no questions asked as to why he wants/needs them. The right to take any student that he wishes.
Relationships: Fairly civil, shows the needed respect to those that require it.
Backstory: Twich was born to the Snakebiter tribe, a kobold tribe that had its tunnels located underneath a somewhat poisonous swamp. Taken to be trained as an alchemist rather early on when he showed he had a knack for it, Twich rather quickly learned everything that his tribe knew about it and found himself consumed by the desire to learn more. At first traveling to other kobold tribes to study, Twich soon found himself learning from many of the other underworld denizens in exchange for his services; At times he even found teachers among the more open minded of the surface dwelling races. When he ran out of teachers who could offer him new knowledge, Twich wasn't satisfied. He needed to know more and that meant he needed to create more things to learn himself.
This is rather challenging as an independent working alone... but with the raise of the Master and his 'Hordes of Darkness', Twich found a patron who could make his dreams and desires a reality in exchange for his services.
Other: - |
9,522 | 268 | 81 | 640 | 262 | Ekusha found Twitch's plan reasonable, but felt a bit offended with the way he had given them orders in such commanding rhetoric. A list? Nonetheless, she would indeed have rather been out probing the humans than the dwarves. She possessed no magics, no powers to bear any impact on a physical level, no projection of her self except through communication, and even her image was nothing more than an image, but all that information seemed negligible: the humans have always had much more potential than any other race in her opinion. She had no objections to this reassignment.
"Very well, I shall set out for the humans at once, however I'll be unable to bring back any objects. I lack the power of teleportation in a corporeal form, and my non-corporeal form cannot physically interact with my surroundings." She turned to That Which Consumes Peace, now her cooperator in this mission. Although she did not approve of his being, she felt whatever he did out there, with the two of them being the only ones among the humans, would only be beneficial for her. "I think we should split up on this one and bring back two different reports. We can compare notes and re-visit any discrepancies. The synthesis of our two views would shed better light on what we're dealing with in the range of our perspectives." | Ekusha, the Vain
Physical Form:5'4; petite build.
Tattoos animate (shift positions, change entirely, etc).
Long black hair, nearly reaching waist-level.
Pitch-black pupils.
Mezzo-soprano voice.
Abilities:Exerts influence upon lesser beings, mimicking hypnosis, through various means:
Fear, by preying on insecurities.
Lust, through worldly temptations.
Anger, with impassioned words.
Adapts and evolves external persona to thrive.
Leadership skill set, grand advisor:
Political strategist.
Military tactician.
Economic genius.
Incarnates at will into any one realm.
Can observe and interact without corporeal form.
Exists as a single Cartesian point.
Shapeshifter in physical being.
Personality:Externally appealing and persuasive, especially to lesser beings.
Knows how to kiss some ass to get her way.
Ambitious, but selfish and arrogant about her own success.
Vain when successful, and envious otherwise.
Wants/Needs: Ekusha desires attention in general, whether it be through worship, fame, or influence. Her spirit is immortal, but her power is derived from her more susceptible and impressionable followers (overworld inhabitants, weaker spirits, lesser angels/demons, etc). Her greatest fear is fading into irrelevance, and therefore she is compelled to substantially impose herself on others.
Relationships: Ekusha easily makes and breaks connections, enjoying a degree of self-imposed solitude when she feels is appropriate and dealing with others when it proves advantageous. In this new apocalypse, she is open to getting all the help she can, so long as she gets her cut.
Dungeon Keeper: -
Athinar Gol-Gaia: -
Yappo: -
Emily Kabal: -
That Which Consumes Peace: -
Narza: -
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher: -
Shukra, the Rakshasa: -
Kor, the Darkwraith: -
Tinkerhel: -
Azavarn: -
Umbra: -
Torrens Igneus: -
Clotho: -
Twitch, the Snakebiter: -
Wold, the Dragon: -
Backstory: Throughout time, Ekusha has played a variety of roles in various realms: from grand despot, to military commander, to religious icon, to many other minor roles. She has also, in other instances, fooled many into believing her to be a deity or demon, but she is merely a spirit with no true celestial or infernal affiliation. Her allegiance is ultimately towards herself.
She is cunning in her ways, seeking power in any form available to her. She enjoys being idolized, and being able to use her influence to subjugate all beings through speech and slaughter. She has fought countless battles, and fled her own destruction just as many times. She puts herself in constant conflict with the many idols the world has produced, and her power constantly cycles between significance and non-existence.
Now, Ekusha comes to the Dungeon Keeper in hopes of securing power. She wants to conquer for herself an empire that will last until eternity. She wants subjects across all lands, in all realms, that stand before her. She sees the Dungeon Keeper as a messiah, his apocalypse a revolution, and herself an empress in the making.
Other:Often found observing from the universal sidelines, when not inhabiting any particular realm.
Incalculable amounts of experience in rising to power, over the course of countless lifetimes. |
9,523 | 268 | 82 | 2,360 | 668 | Kor had spent the entire night enjoying his new chair, which entailed mostly sitting in it and asking the imps that passed by which pose looked more menacing. Eventually, he started ordering the imps to squat in front of him and act as foot stools, but he found that they were too bony to act as a decent cushion. Maybe that's what humans are good for... he mused, but before he could experiment any further, Athinar called, apparently with a new mission. It was about time; he was getting hungry.
Kor silently rose from his chair, dismissing the latest footstool imp, and calmly walked over to where Athinar was beckoning for him. Already the minions were engaging in their ridiculous shenanigans. The naughty kitty was refusing to appear in person, Azarvan thought it prudent to tread on the cat's pride and propose how he ought to use his troops, and the ghost girl mistook Athinar for a horse. Kor was glad that nobody could see the grin behind his helmet and wondered if blood would be spilled before they even got to the village. | Name: Darkwraith Kor
Physical Form: The darkwraiths are beings that were once humans, but were twisted to depravity through the temptation of a dark serpent. These beings feast on the souls of their victims, and also on their very humanity. The darkwraiths have a drug-like addiction to humanity and in feasting on it, they drain the sanity from their victims to retain their own. Their skeletal appearance is actually a suit of armor granted to them by the serpent. Beneath it, the a healthy darkwraith looks very much human, but a starved one will have their nature revealed with wrinkled, rotting flesh. Kor stands at about six feet. Beneath his helmet, his face his stern and gaunt, with unkempt black hair and dark brown eyes. He has a muscular build derived from years of hunting down his prey.
Abilities: The Dark Hand- This is the magic weapon granted to all darkwraiths by the serpent. It is a manifestation of the darkness in their souls, and in its idle form appears to be an ethereal orb of blackness with streaks of red squirming about its wielder's hand. The Dark Hand can warp into both a sword and a shield with a complete physical manifestation. Due to the ethereal nature of the Dark Hand, it cannot be broken, but at the same time it will often yield to sturdy materials.
Lifedrain- The most feared of the darkwraith's abilities. The user channels his hunger into his Dark Hand and lunges at a victim. Upon contact, he drains the victim of his humanity. This does no physical damage to the target, but destroys its sanity, turning it into a soul-starved creature that will attack friend and foe alike. This ability does not work on those that are already corrupted or depraved, but on those that are valiant and righteous.
Abysswalker- In this world, there exist magics, indeed entire planes, forged from darkness itself. The darkwraiths are one of the few beings that thrive in such darkness. They are immune to the effects of darkness-based magic and can freely navigate through any realms made of darkness.
Red Eye Orb- A blood-red orb with a menacing eye carved into it. This orb seeks out the pure of heart, and once a target is located the orb will begin to pulsate. Once the target has been located, no amount of walls or barricades can stop a Darkwraith. They can use the Red Eye Orb to transport them to the general vicinity of the target. This comes with great risk, though. The orb does not reveal who the target is or what defenses are established, and it will only bring them withing 100 feet of the target. The darkwraith may be stepping into his own doom.
The Dark Sword- The melee weapon of choice for darkwraiths. The Dark Sword is a straight sword with a thick, wide, blade. The additional mass makes it good for staggering heavily armored foes. Though heavy, Kor can wield this blade masterfully, preferring to unleash a flurry of quick strikes rather than large single strikes.
Ring of the Evil Eye- Legend has it the this ring contains the spirit of a terrible monster that assaulted the lands long ago. Now, the power of this beast's cruelty is channeled into the bearer. With every slain foe, some of the wearer's energy is restored, and light wounds begin to heal.
Personality: In a word, voracious. Where others look at a battle and see terror and carnage, glory and honor, Kor sees a king's feast. These peaceful times have left Kor anxious and irritable from his hunger, but once his appetite becomes satiated he becomes as morbidly jovial as the next minion of darkness celebrating his victory.
Wants/Needs: Kor is driven by a relentless hunger for souls and humanity, but also takes pleasure in the dark. However, Kor is also reasonably intelligent, so any tools that would assist him in his hunt would be seen as an ample reward.
Backstory: Kor was once human, but that is all he remembers of his days before he was a darkwraith. For one reason or another, Kor found himself at the bottom of a pitch-black chasm, unmarked on any maps. He was terrified a first, but then he heard the voice of the serpent. It was a soothing voice, an infallible voice: "You were born from the Dark, why do you fear it?" Kor's pulse slowed and he sat upright. That's right, it was only darkness, there was no reason to be afraid. "Ah, you are not like the others who tremble at the Dark! Come, let me give you this gift, and you can be the savior to usher in a new age!" Naturally, the years of hiding in the shadows merely to sustain his own existence was grueling for Kor. However, when he heard of the new dungeon keeper, the prospect of open combat was appealing, plus he liked the new age that the dungeon keeper wanted to usher in. |
9,524 | 268 | 83 | 740 | 392 | That Which Consumes Peace nods grimly as he agrees to sacrificing two of his humans. He did not like to sacrifice them, but there seemed to be a greater chance of chaos if he did. He teleports back to his cave and picks the two oldest men. "Prepare yourself. We're going on a mission that you may not come back from. ", is what he tells the men. He guides them back to Twich and begrudgingly hands them over.
After listening to the kobold's orders and the spirits words, he replies to both with a simple "Aye." and a small grin. He then disappears to the group, presumably to a village. However, he appears in the Master's quarters beside the dungeon keeper.
"Master may I be provided some information about the human kingdom? Their king, their flags and the like? It is very important, master. " | Name: Emily Kabal, Spirit's Sonnet
Physical Form: Innoculious and cute, Emily is in every way a young human girl that draws little attention and can go wherever she wants to without anyone becoming sucpicious, and anyone who does think to stop Emily gets such a heart melting smile they can't help but let her go on. She has no physical Tell to inform a person there is more than meets the eye, and she wears casual peasant garb which further enhances her ability to slip in wherever and whenever she wants.
Abilities: Magic is Emily's forte, and she fortes brilliantly. There are few human warlocks who could compete with Emily by herself, and she is assisted in her magical talent by four Sung Spirits - a special branch of spirit that can only be summoned by singing, rather than ritual - which pushes her magical prowess far beyond what any mortal could ever dream of. The three spirits she hosts are Storm, Earth and Fire, with an Overseer spirit that watches the other three and posesses talent in their schools. Most of her spells are generic, if powerfully utalized, but the one unique spell she posesses is Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown. It does not exist in this dimension the same way that the rest of her magic does, and so she needs help from her Fire spirit and the Overseer to conjuer it. She creates the physical shell while her spirits fill it with the fire itself. Once that is done, Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown can be used in two differen manners. The first is a singular target, which upon impact incinrates them internally and externally at the same moment, making it effective even against armour or barriers - something to note is that if the target can absorb heat and fire, then they are super-charged by it rather than burned to a cinder. The second is a wide spread attack that causes an extremely hot fire to voraciously spread through the surrounding area, engulfing a small village in moments. The strain, both physically and magically, is considerable so it is not often used. Another rather personal, but not unique, ability is how Emily can use her fire as a sort of Afterburner, and fly through the sky. This is not very subtle, and causes her magics to drain at a constant rate, so she does not use it lightly. The third uncommon ability is her teleporting from Fire to Fire. This requires a pillar of flame to engulf Emily, and then a second Pillar of flame to drop her off. The disadvantage is that it causes disorientation and the second pillar can sometimes not be available.
Aside from magical abilities Emily can - obviously - sing very well, and enjoys simply singing for the thrill of it. She puts this to use summoning her spirits, most commonly Blanks which can posess weak-willed humans or recently dead cadavers and provide Emily with feedback and obidience. With slightly more effort, Emily can bind elemental spirits to herself - or though currently she is at her limit and wants to give her body time to adjust before getting more - and also to beings like Wolves, and Badgers, and Sheep. And humans, but they are usually not so cool and not so plentiful. Emily has a sharp mind as well, able to create a plan in a few moments and chain together her three magical elements, creating a combo that is able to take out massive creatures, well confident of their own abilities before they came face to face with this young girl. Physically, she is of a standard teenagers strength and durability, so she avoids close combat.
A final, and rather unknown power, is Emily's ability to percieve Magic. When it is being used, how much, and also the strength of the person she is looking at. This gives her a clear advantage over other magic users, since it allows her to see what theyr are about to use, and work around it. This technique turns her eyes pure gold, and drains her power at a constant rate, so extended useage is unadvisable.
Wants/Needs: While Emily is happy serving Master in every way, she does have a long-term goal to summon and bind Spitfire, The Fire King, Nike, The Earth King, and Minami, the Storm King.
Relationships: Other than her devotion to the Master, Emily fits in well with all kind of Spirits, so she is often found in the company of Umbra and Narza.
Backstory: Emily is a Homonculus, an artifically created Human, and the first sucess in a string of failures that created useless, deformed monstrosities. She was created with magical power in mind, so the creation process sacrificed the strength most artificals could posess in return for a much deeper magical pool. Some think that she does not have a soul because she was created, but that is a falicy, since even Homonculi need souls to exist. She was pushed, magically, to increase her power, and get stronger until a point where she could handle Sung Spirits inhabiting her. She summoned her first, a spirit of Fire, and after a few months of training and control, summoned even more spirits until she had the total of four she has now.
Other: ((Anything else that you want to mention?)) |
9,525 | 268 | 84 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens thought over Emily's words, until Emily conjured a small mote of a magical flame for him. Torrens stepped over, swiftly swiped it, and stepped back to where he was. While to those unfamiliar with him it may have appeared to have been a rude snatch, Torrens was simply taking caution and minimising Emily's close-range exposure to him- many of his physical mannerisms center around that motive. He stared at the palm of his hand where the flame had sunk in and his face broke out into a big grin.
"Ah, yes, thank you. This will be most useful. Empyrean, yes? I've heard a lot about it," Torrens said. He closed his eyes for a moment, then added, "Not quite real Empyrean, though, I sense. Still, powerful all the same. Thank you again. Good luck on your mission."
As he was leaving, Torrens added, "Although I like burning things, I'm not a senseless brute about it. I've been in this game a lot longer than you can imagine, and I already know a proportionately vast amount about the nature of fire and heat and it's applications. I've got to. I wouldn't have made it this far if I didn't. Just letting you know."
Later, Torrens joined the group assembled by Athinar in preparation for the raid. Already various personalities were making a big show of the matter. Athinar did not look like a tactician, but at the same time looks can be deceiving. "For consideration in whatever plan you choose, my strengths are arson, sabotage, drawing enemy fire and frontal assaults. I'm not good at stealth," Torrens offered helpfully. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,526 | 268 | 85 | 538 | 2,678 | The warlock stood in his personal library, bent over a desk with all sorts of magical tomes lying open, each one full of a menagerie rare and forbidden secrets. Flipping through the pages in a lackadaisical attempt to find an interesting ritual to pass the time and put some of his blood slaves to use, he suddenly sensed an intrusion while simultaneously seeing a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. The Keeper spun to see That Which Consumes Peace, the demon having made the rather callous decision of teleporting into the Master's quarters uninvited. He was lucky that this was only the library. Had he teleported deeper in the Keeper's wing, near the dungeon heart, there would have been no words as a response from the Master. Only pain and the possibility of death.
The warlock snarled, "You try my patience, chaos demon, by intruding upon my quarters." The Master's eyes glowed with sadism and ire, foreshadowing some sort of horrific punishment. However, such a punishment never came, since That seemed to have at least had a purpose for his visit. He merely warned, "Do not make a habit of this."
Finally deigning to actually answer his minion's questions, he almost dismissively scoffed, "From what I have garnered so far, this Kingdom of Ardebit has no mere 'king'. Rather, they have the so-called Divine Emperor Reginaldus, the seventh of his name. The fool's dynasty has ruled this kingdom since its very founding some two centuries ago, as a small merchant town. Since then they have beaten back the other inhabitants of Ardebit and carved out quite the kingdom, it would seem."
His tone having turned mocking towards the end as he laughed at the humans, he continued, "Leonus, his family, and his heir are all secluded within their great fortress in the capital, never seen by the public except for once or twice a year when some drunkard claims to see them atop the battlements. Only the highest ranking officials of the kingdom advise this almighty Emperor or even see him in person. Presumably he does something to justify his absurdly luxurious treatment, though if he does rule it is through his subordinates. No commands ever come from the Emperor himself; a great web of bureaucrats, generals, and nobles issue out all the orders, though perhaps only in name.
Every petty noble and general in this abominable kingdom has his own coat of arms to display on flags, banners, and the uniforms of his men. The Emperor's seal and the national symbol is a yellow crescent moon on a field of black. But you waste my time with these questions. If this information is truly so important, then question the prisoners. This is their kingdom, after all. Now, begone from my study! I have research to do." | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,527 | 268 | 86 | 1,499 | 991 | Please disregard, I just saw the full label. | Name: Cold stare
Physical form: Manifestation of 6ft incorporeal image hovering 3 inches off the ground.
Abilities: Necrotizing fasciitis in 3ft diameter when manifested. Moves threw physical barriers. Ghost blade ignores physical barriers, plunged into the living removes the warmth of life. Person actually dies of hypothermia with no physical wound. The air grows cold on his approach and plants wilt only when manifested. Invisible when not manifested. Can be repelled from a area, and blocked from manifesting for 24 hours. Able to see the life force of the living. The dead are invisible, he only sees what he wants to. Has the dead traits of being immune to sleep, poison, death, physical damage, disease, charm, illusion, and additional curses.
Personality: Cold.
Desires/Goals: Driven by the single goal Murdering the human race that let him die in the street. Only in the face of horror do humans find their nobler selves. I will bring them fear as they will never forget.
Back story: Once a champion of the people. This knight of justice fought on their behalf slaying all who would prey on the innocent. No matter the odds this champion would ride forth and right the wrong. Not for king, or queen, but the people. Bandits, thieves, corrupt royalty, cowardly guards, it mattered little to him. Steel was the scales of justice he used to exact forgiveness from the wrong.
After one such crusade against the corrupt band of mercenaries exacting a protection toll (some from the very flesh of the villages youth) in a farming village, this champion put the sword to these villains. Heavily out numbered and taking some cross bow fire he prevailed. Mortally wounded he asked the people for help. The village closed there doors and let him die in the street. The fear they had lived with for so long stayed even after the threat was gone. With his dying breath he cursed, not them but himself for believing that good deeds sowed the seed of fellowship. The villagers later dragged him and the mercenaries to the woods at the edge of town and left them to rot. Years later he arose, from his own death after his body was eaten by scavengers. Cursed to never know peace by his own soul, by the people he devoted his life to protect, by the gods. |
9,528 | 268 | 87 | 215 | 1,683 | Athinar stood there, in Professional Mode, as he liked to call it. It was something drilled into him by those loathsome monks, but still, it was useful. His back was straight, his head was inclined, hands held in front of him, feet shoulder-width apart. He took a deep breath. As much as it caused him mental agony, he was in equilibrium. Besides, the pain and aggression let him come up with even better plans.
When Shukra's image appeared behind him, and the cat told him to turn around, he merely turned his head, and gave the cat a cold stare from the corner of his eye. The Rakshasa was disrespecting him. Oh well. He'd get him sometime, but the Boss needed him. Thought he was useful, for whatever reason. "I do not take orders from you, little kitty. I will not turn around at your beck and call. If you wish to receive your orders, then please stand with the others." His voice sounded deeper, more twisted, and more hateful than normal, the change in tone apparent.
Azavarn's plan was good, but there were a few flaws, and Athinar let him know. "That's a good enough plan, little demon, but there is one big problem. The new temple. There is no way in Hell that they'd let one such as you make a deal." He smiled at his own pun. "Probably have holy water, as well." Raising his finger, he did praise the demon on one point. "You guessed it though, I was going to use the Orcs to surround the village. However, Shukra won't be commanding them." He grinned in anticipation of the cat's expression. "You, Azavarn, will lead the orcs. You're slippery enough to wrangle them, or so I hear." The decision didn't make sense at the moment, at least not to most people, but there was a hidden meaning, from Athinar to Azavarn. He was allowing the demon free reign to attempt to get the creatures' souls, and thus bring their loyalty to the Boss, rather than Shukra.
When Narza appeared on his shoulders, Athinar wasn't displeased. He thought that Narza was just the kind of crazy to do something like that, so it was pretty much expected. Noting her presence with a nod, and seeking out the imp that she waved at, Athinar looked at the one small demon, immobile in a crowd of thrashing and flailing. The small imp's bearing told Athinar that something else was controlling it, because most didn't stand stock-still, calmly.
When Torrens approached, Athinar was curious. He wasn't in the group, originally, but oh well. He'd take what he could get. Raising an open hand, and then crushing it, Athinar got everyone's attention, and hopefully quelled any arguments that the cat and the slippery bastard demon had. "Now my plan is threefold! Our objective? Get the city under our control, mostly intact, and subjugate the people. How to accomplish this, you may ask? Simple! One! The main force of Shukra's Orcs, led by Azavarn, will surround the city, to prevent any from escaping. Two! The rest of our forces will march openly on the city, attracting as much attention as possible, and led by Shukra, but joined by Torrens. Three! Umbra, Narza, Darkwraith Kor and myself will attempt to infiltrate the city while it's emptied of defenses. If they do not come out to attack, our goal will be to open the gates, and clear the walls." He smiled evilly. "We have to take the city mostly intact, but the Temple, we raze. Can't have the people rallying there. The Manor, we try our best to keep in one piece, but we will have to clear it out." Cocking his head, curiously, he looked over the group. "Any questions or suggestions?" | Name: Athinar Gol-Gaia
Physical Form:
Tall, well-muscled, and stable, he is the pinnacle of physical perfection, even by the standards of some who would call themselves 'Immortal'. He is 6'8", and weighs at 300 pounds, in his normal form.
In his alternate form, he gains a sentient sword, and a set of armor which is actually part of him. In this form, sometimes his face is visible, but more often than not, he keeps his mask on. He is 7'0" even, and weighs 450 pounds.
Abilities:
Normal Form / Carnage Form - Athinar has decided to forgo magic that affects others, in favor of a magic that supplements his already impressive strength. His Carnage Form is a shell, which looks like armor, but actually is a super-dense exoskeleton. While in this form, he is significantly slower, but is immensely more powerful in terms of strength and defense.
Summon: Carnage Blade - Athinar has the ability to summon his Carnage blade at any time, however it is smaller and less impressive when he's not in Carnage form, although it still is alive, and speaks to him. The blade's name is Requiem. what the sword looks like, except with glowing red runes down the middle.
(Normal Form - Rock Style) Blood Palm - Athinar uses the blood spilled by anyone, including his own, in a fight, to empower his fist's attack.
Martial Arts - Athinar was trained in three forms of martial arts by the monks. However, he is only the equivalent of a black belt in one, and slightly competent in the others.
(Skilled)Rock Style - Athinar stays solid, and in place, for the most part. He uses his fists, elbows, and occasionally trips the enemy, but tries to keep his feet steady. For if he can, not much in the terms of human force can move him, but if anyone has trained in Windstance (or was strong enough), they could move him through sheer momentum and weight transfer.
(Beginner)The Path of the Cyclone - Not so much a martial art as a series of moves, executed one after the other, this unarmed style is used to fight large groups of enemies. There are twelve moves altogether, in three groups. However, Athinar was only taught the first group, and cannot continue the momentum of the Path.
- Leaping Tornado: Athinar lunges forward, landing among his enemies.
- Unseen Tempest: Athinar waits three seconds for enemies to close in, ready to strike.
- Stormblade: Athinar ducks down beneath a man's weapon, and elbows him in the chest/neck area.
- Cyclone Kick: Athinar does a roundhouse kick, tripping all surrounding enemies.
However, these are usually poorly executed, due to lack of training.
(Beginner) Celestial Mirage - This is possibly the martial art that he's learned that he has the most trouble with. It is a kick-based martial art, one that forces you to maintain patience. It's attacks come in bursts, to draw the enemy out, and allow the student to analyze the situation. However bad Athinar is with this, it was still one of the arts he learned from the monks, and he views it as a useful, albeit F*CKING INFURIATING skill.
Personality: Athinar gets intense pleasure from seeing other creature's blood. No matter the circumstances, or whether he is allied with them or not. When he is not getting excited by bloodlust, he is usually a very calm, collected individual, who is quite intelligent, surprisingly. When blood is near, he turns into a vicious man, taking pleasure in drawing blood, tasting it, etc. Afterwards, he is, shall we say, *ahem* easily excitable. If you know what I mean. However, this doesn't mean that he's not smart. He is extremely smart, in his bloodlust, and will be able to craft plans on the fly, if they end in violence and killing.
Relationships:
Emily- Thinks that the homunculus is beneath his attention, generally, unless she does something big and shiny.
That Which Consumes Peace- A fool, disobeying the Boss, but made a nice save, getting Shukra mildly punished.
Ekushka- Hasn't met her yet.
Narza- Is quite fond of the little ghost, curretly.
Shukra- A pompous ass who fails at commanding.
Darkwraith Kor- A good fighter, like Athinar, who shares his bloodlust. Enjoys his company.
Azavarn- Too flamboyant.
Umbra/Christopher- Thinks that Christopher is a bit off, but doesn't know why.
Torrens- Doesn't have any opinion of him, but thinks that a fire demon might be useful.
Clotho- Has a strange fixation on Clotho's chitin.
Twitch- Has disdain for the ratty, well, twitchy kobold. Maybe if he actually did something, he might be useful.
Backstory: Athinar is the reincarnated form of an ex-Dungeon Keeper, banished from his former world, and born to a new life in this one. However, he don't remember shit, and the only benefits were the impressive physical abilities you see today. He was born to an order of monks, who trained him in every combat style, unarmed and armed. However, this revealed his darker secret, his love for shedding blood. Killing them all, he was guided by a voice in his head, who told him that if he joined with him, he'd get to kill, kill, and keep killing. So he met up with the Dungeon Keeper, and started killing.
Other: If Athinar seems too powerful, remember that he was converted to the Dungeon Keeper's cause by him just saying that he could kill people if he joined him. He's not dumb, but he does have quite the one-track-mind, and is quite susceptible to manipulation, in both forms. Like, REALLY susceptible. A novice hypnotist could put him to sleep. |
9,529 | 268 | 88 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens thought the plan over. It seemed decent enough. There would be a frontal charge, involving himself, which he was pleased to hear, which would draw the defenses out the front. There would be an infiltration, taking advantage of the disturbance he would be causing. And there would be a safety net, which would surely double as reinforcements, to help contain the town, which was a wise use of the orcs since Shukra was evidently displeased whenever they were sacrificed. Sparing any tactical specifics, which would depend strongly on circumstances in the town, it seemed a sound plan, save for one detail. Torrens let Athinar know as such.
"It seems to be a good plan, although there's one detail that seems a bit off. Unless I'm horribly mistaken, the orcs are loyal to Shukra. I'm not sure if they could be expected to behave under the supervision of someone else. While I can see good reason for having the orcs secure the perimeter while Shukra leads a frontal charge, the matter of leadership may present a problem." | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,530 | 268 | 89 | 1,512 | 202 | Narza cheers at the end of Anthinar's speech, running a hand through Athinar's hair absently. Although Narza wasn't too focused on the success of the plan, she understood that she wouldn't be allowed to indiscriminately kill the townies, meaning that only the priests from the temple would be up for grabs. Luckily, the plan placed her directly at the temple, and even better, they'd be killing the priests as one big group! From Derrik's sly and logical point of view, the plan was also tactically sound, and he had no objections to voice to Narza.
"I like it! I call the souls of everyone that dies though." Narza announces carefully, making sure everyone was clear on that. She glares at Azavarn for good measure, since the guy did funny things with souls that prevented her from eating them.I don't trust his hat, it's too curvy. Narza thinks to herself, narrowing her eyes at the demon. | Name: Narza (unable to remember her last name)
Physical Form:
Chimeric Specter
Narza is an amalgamation of a wide variety of souls, brought about by a somewhat mediocre dark mage named Derrik. The dark mage combined, a few dozen tormented human souls, the soul of an innocent young human girl, freshly killed to serve as the catalyst, and three different Elementals, one of Wind, one of Water, and one of Darkness. Dreaming of power and infamy, Derrik aimed to create a fearsome tri-element familiar and make his familiar’s personality more easily controlled by using a young girl’s soul as the base. While the dark mage succeeded in fusing the souls, one of his more mediocre points showed in his binding abilities.
The chimeric spirit broke free and consumed the dark mage the split-second after it was born. Because the chimeric spirit hadn’t settled and solidified, it ended up absorbing the dark mage into its core, giving it some of the abilities of the dark mage as well. A battle for dominance over the soul ensued. The dark mage, already weakened by the fusion process, was unanimously dealt with by the other souls. The elementals fell next, overwhelmed by the many insane human souls. With the elementals gone, the tormented souls fell upon each other, tearing each other apart in mindless agony. In the end, only the soul of the young girl, added most recently (aside from the dark mage), was left intact. Her name was Narza.
Magic and Abilities:
Invisibility (turn invisible, simple for a ghost)
Incorporeal Form (she actually can’t touch things if she tried, currently)
Soul Steal (steal a target’s soul, works better on weaker and weakened targets)
Devour soul (grow stronger by consuming a soul, stronger souls are more difficult to consume but are worth more. Slightly increases her magical power.)
Possess Husk(take control of a soulless body. Allows Narza to take a physical form and use that body’s magic at a fraction of its strength. She can’t preserve its health until stronger.)
Elemental Affinity for Water/Ice
Elemental Affinity for Wind/Air
Flight (ghosts can naturally fly)
Resistant to poison (How would you poison a ghost?)
Soul Sense (Sense souls around Narza, souls have to be sensed before they can be interacted with afterall)
Soul Replacement (put a soul back into a soulless body.)
Locked: (until more souls are eaten and she grows stronger)
Soul Scour (rip apart a soul for information. Narza can learn a magic if she rips apart enough souls that know that magic. Also aids in digestion.)
Corporeal Form (become solid, taking any appearance)
Elemental Affinity for Darkness
Soul Fusion (combine stolen souls.)
Lightning (subtype of Wind/Air)
Weaknesses:
Fire/Heat
Earth
Holy/Light Magic
Sanctified ground/equipment
Holy Water (somewhat nullified by Water/Ice Affinity)
Due to Narza’s Wind/Water/Darkness affinity and spirit body, she’s doubly vulnerable to light and heat. She also can’t pass through the ground like normal ghosts until she’s stronger. Additionally, Narza cannot learn any magic of opposing elements. Has no skill with weapons.
Personality: Innocent, naive, and terribly hateful. Has the personality of a young girl, the ambition of a failed dark mage, and the hatred and anger of many dozens of tormented souls. As a former twelve-year old, Narza little knowledge of the world save for the bits absorbed from her shredded inhabitants, but is curious and sharp. She’s also spiteful and mischievous, with little moral direction even without factoring in the dark mage in her. When the malice of the tormented souls wrests free of her control as they will from time to time, she’ll seemingly lose her temper without warning. Occasionally, she will ask you for your soul out of the blue when her hunger gets to be too much.
Wants/Needs: Souls, especially magical ones or those of mages.
Relationships: Likes to hang out with fellow spirits such as Narza and Umbra.
Backstory: The dark mage Narza consumed left behind a slight sense of loyalty and responsibility to the Dungeon Keeper, so she asked to serve as well, and was accepted. She has inherited the Derrik's possessions, which are:
Basic clothing: Musty dark mage robes, all black and nefarious-looking. And smelling. Narza wouldn't wear them even if she could. (Not that she floats around naked, mind you. She wears what she wore when she died (but will be able to change that later.))
Basic alchemy set
Alchemy ingredient shelf, poorly stocked (previous owner wasn't big on alchemy)
Ritual circle, high-class but defective (Since Narza was able to break free)
Enchanted storage ring, low level, holding dust, empty alchemy flasks, and dirty clothing (has a capacity space of two square meters)
Basic elemental spell tomes: A beginner's guide to Fire Magic, A beginner's guide to Water Magic, A beginner's guide to Wind Magic, A beginner's guide to Earth Magic, A beginner's guide to Dark Magic (laying in a disorderly pile on the floor.)
Arlog's Thesis on soul-binding - Abridged version (another tome
Binding and Sealing - All you need to take a Familiar (Well leafed magic tome, and frozen solid)
Enchanted dagger, for rituals and self-defense. (Never dulls, and is sharper and tougher than normal. Holds a sinister miasma since it has been immersed in dark magic and taken the lives of many innocents in cold blood. Nothing special though.)
Scrying orb of low quality (See distant locations, but only from far away, or a specific location, but must have been there before.)
Staff of Darkness (An enchanted length of wood that make using dark magic slightly easier. Even a level One mage would start with better gear than this.
Mana-recovery trinkets (Barely worth wearing, and also too gaudy.)
Various spell books (all shelved, that Narza can't get to yet since she isn't corporeal. )
Enchanted treasure chest (enchanted to resist weather effects and only open to the owner, holding a mix of souls from different races)
Other: Would be classified as an Assassin/Mage I suppose. Will do anything for a soul. |
9,531 | 268 | 90 | 2,751 | 60 | While Shukra's face remained impassive as stone, behind that neat little mask was a burning anger that told him to get to that dungeon and wring the creature's neck. But, he would not give Athinar the satisfaction of getting under his skin. No, no, he had a better way. One that did not involve him getting under the Master's skin at the same time. And the fire demon, Torrens, gave him just the opportunity to do so. It was a poor excuse, one that he was currently attempting to build off of in his head while the others spoke, until he could piece together an argument. Or, rather, a thinly veiled order of how things were going to work.
Finally, he smiled, and laced his fingers together so that his hands performed an arch. "The plan, while it lacks in the department of details, is sound. But, as Torrens said, my orcs are not loyal to those who do not prove their strength. I respect Azavarn and what he does, certainly, but orcs respect brawn, not brain. They may follow you, Athinar, but for that to happen, you'd have to kill me first. So, for now, they listen to me, and only to me. Try to put them under another's command, and they'll do as they please. Now, I suppose I could order them to follow someone else. But, I won't." He tapped the claws of his middle fingers together, raked his gaze across the group, and then continued. "While you are in charge of the raid and the forces of the dungeon for that raid, which includes us, my forces are not of the dungeon, and not under the influence of any but myself. Meaning, you have no authority over where I place them or what I do with them. I could show up all on my lonesome, and I would be completely justified. I wouldn't, as my selfishness and pettyness would cause the Master to gain ire against me, however I will not place my men under your tender care simply because you are an opportunist."
Shukra stroked his chin, tugging at the long fur beneath. "But this is all assuming that the orcs need a commander on their asses the entire time. Order them to make an unbreakable perimeter, and that is exactly what they will do. One of us does not need to sit and hold their hands for them to do the job that is given to them. If they did, then they would not be worth our attention, let alone potential servants and troops." He was finished now, reclining back in his chair. While Athinar might not agree, that did not quite matter. Shukra had made his point clear. The creature could tell him what to do, but there was not a way in this world that he would get his grubby hands on anything that was Shukra's. Not to mention he didn't trust Azavarn as far as he could throw him. Deals would be made. He trusted his orcs in battle, trusted their strength. But their wills and minds were weak. Loyal they may be, but a promise of power could do in even the most loyal of servants. | Name: Shukra
Gender: Male
Race: Rakshasa
Physical Form: Standing at a proud seven feet even, Shukra is a monster to behold, with flowing black fur the color of ash with stripes that glow like flames. His eyes glow the orange of fire, and his maw is filled with razor sharp teeth like his tiger cousins. Each finger is tipped with a razor sharp claw, and a long tail swishes behind him. Few have survived the attempt of touching it. Adorning his body is a suit of ancestral armor, worn by the honor guard of the ancient Rakshasa emperors, made of an unknown metal and inlaid with gold. Aga, his sword, lays on his hip, made of the same metal as his armor and covered in a runes that glow like embers.
Skills/Abilities
Voice of the Emperor - A gentle reminder that he is your better. Every word he says will influence the thoughts of the weak willed and unintelligent towards what he wants.
Breath of the Dragon - Fire is his ally, and so he has garnered an immunity to its effects, and can manipulate natural fires or create his own through magic.
Strength of the Tiger - He is naturally tougher and stronger than most other races, and has, at one point, torn an orc chieftain in half with his bare hands.
Speed of the Snake - While he is not the fastest man to live, he can outrun any human with ease, and his reflexes are far superior to most others.
Blade of the East - He is a good swordsman, but by no means the best.
Personality: Shukra is confident that he, because of his race, if not himself as a person, is superior to all others, especially others. As such, he will rarely give the time of day to others he sees as below him, and those that he has managed to come to terms with as them being his equal, he will at least attempt to be civil with them, in his own special way as an ass. The rare occasion he'll find someone who has proven themself to be his superior, he's found an unnatural and unhealthy obsession with being under their service. Up until the point where he's confident enough to kill them and take their place, but with the current Dungeon Master, he is unsure of his ability to do so. However, he does have a soft spots for his servants, and gets legitimately enraged when he finds out his lackeys have been killed.
Wants/Needs: Shukra wants one thing: To restore the glory of the Rakshasa, even if he is the only one left. Land, subjects, and cities to lord over are what he wants, for those that are lesser than him to submit and become become his, one way or another. That, and to become strong enough to deserve the title of King.
Backstory: In the jungles to the east, there are stories of the rakshasas, demonic tiger men that lorded over lesser races. They were brought down by great heroes, or sealed away by powerful mages. But, there were some that managed to escape persecution by their servants and peasants. Shukra, once a steward and guard to a more powerful rakshasa. He escaped, and went into a dormant state. However, he was recently awakened by a clan of orcs, deep underground. Shukra is unsure of how he got there, but after slaying the chieftain of the orcs, he took command of their clan and drove them to the surface, forcing them to become strong, smart, cunning. He's lead them close to the surface, where others of their kind and other degenerates forced underground by the humans to hide and cower have gathered. That is where he shall begin his ascent, and return to glory.
Other: His sword, Aga, is made of an unknown metal and covered in red runes that glow like embers. Because of the magic in these runes, the sword is impervious to rust, will never dull, and will never dent, and is immune to all but the strongest of magics. He also has a clan of orcs under his command, which is convenient at times.
The Vorhaas Clan |
9,532 | 268 | 91 | 640 | 262 | Ekusha departed for the human territories in an effort to begin her mission. She didn't see the need to explore the entirety of the nation if the goal was to clear out this particular outpost. Better to localize. So, she explored several villages, probing the minds of its inhabitants, looking for any outstanding attitudes or any piece of information that would be revealing of the dwarves.
Humans have always been one of the more xenophobic species, exemplified when it came towards their own kind. Ethnic cleansing, racial stereotyping, and fear mongering were concepts they whole-heartedly embraced, but it allowed them to survive through their clannishness. However, when it came to the other inhabitants that threatened their survival, humans banded together, whether it be temporary or permanent integration, to fight off their common foe in the name of humanity. In the countryside nearing the dwarven outpost, dwarves were thought of as almost plebian in comparison to them, suspected to be dust-covered cave-dwellers who collected stones and what few metals the mountains provided for an unmoving economy merely composed of shiny objects to stare at.
One perpetrator of this mindset was Tushratta, born to a farming family although he found himself employed as a furniture craftsman. When Ekusha found him, he was chatting with a bartender outside the local tavern, one he apparently frequented throughout his adult life. Tushratta was in his 30's, fairly charismatic and liked by his people. He indulged moderately, and often expressed himself overbearingly. He gained somewhat of a following with his words, stirring up the minds of humble drunks and working men. A politician in his own right, Tushratta was indeed a hometown hero in the making.
Rhetoric in the town was fairly anti-dwarven, belittling them to the point of mere animals. Views placed upon them were lowly, and Tushratta must have had the most openly intolerant view of all, constantly refering to them as cave weasels and insinuating they fed on the rocks they tore. Anyone around seemed to eat up his words, in a way covering their insecurities of this alien society that lay so proximal to their village. His words comforted them, and fed their egos. They did not have to feel threatened, rather they should feel powerful: they could easily crush any opposition to their livelihood, especially one coming from a bunch of filth-covered cave-dwellers.
Ekusha saw it: Tushratta had the hicks of this countryside in the palms of his hands. He inspired them, gave them hope, a feel-good conversation they could look forward to at the end of their miserable days of essential serfdom. He was a working man, but more-so a farmer-turned-artisan. He knew their labors, and he had already legitimized himself before these simple-minded country folk who knew little outside of their own village.
Take them.
Tushratta smiled as he looked around the tavern, already feeling a bit of buzz from the alcohol. "I say we pay a visit to that little dwarf colony." Others in the room were a bit puzzled. It's always been all-talk with them, mere venting. Talk of action was rare, but it seemed welcome to the frustrated. "They're up in those mountains, probably looking down on us, and for what? We let them set up shop for a while, but they've been spoiled. We've left them alone while they bleed those caves dry."
"What do you suppose we do, Tush?"
Go add some color to your mundane life, hick.
"Just remind them who's boss around these parts." | Ekusha, the Vain
Physical Form:5'4; petite build.
Tattoos animate (shift positions, change entirely, etc).
Long black hair, nearly reaching waist-level.
Pitch-black pupils.
Mezzo-soprano voice.
Abilities:Exerts influence upon lesser beings, mimicking hypnosis, through various means:
Fear, by preying on insecurities.
Lust, through worldly temptations.
Anger, with impassioned words.
Adapts and evolves external persona to thrive.
Leadership skill set, grand advisor:
Political strategist.
Military tactician.
Economic genius.
Incarnates at will into any one realm.
Can observe and interact without corporeal form.
Exists as a single Cartesian point.
Shapeshifter in physical being.
Personality:Externally appealing and persuasive, especially to lesser beings.
Knows how to kiss some ass to get her way.
Ambitious, but selfish and arrogant about her own success.
Vain when successful, and envious otherwise.
Wants/Needs: Ekusha desires attention in general, whether it be through worship, fame, or influence. Her spirit is immortal, but her power is derived from her more susceptible and impressionable followers (overworld inhabitants, weaker spirits, lesser angels/demons, etc). Her greatest fear is fading into irrelevance, and therefore she is compelled to substantially impose herself on others.
Relationships: Ekusha easily makes and breaks connections, enjoying a degree of self-imposed solitude when she feels is appropriate and dealing with others when it proves advantageous. In this new apocalypse, she is open to getting all the help she can, so long as she gets her cut.
Dungeon Keeper: -
Athinar Gol-Gaia: -
Yappo: -
Emily Kabal: -
That Which Consumes Peace: -
Narza: -
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher: -
Shukra, the Rakshasa: -
Kor, the Darkwraith: -
Tinkerhel: -
Azavarn: -
Umbra: -
Torrens Igneus: -
Clotho: -
Twitch, the Snakebiter: -
Wold, the Dragon: -
Backstory: Throughout time, Ekusha has played a variety of roles in various realms: from grand despot, to military commander, to religious icon, to many other minor roles. She has also, in other instances, fooled many into believing her to be a deity or demon, but she is merely a spirit with no true celestial or infernal affiliation. Her allegiance is ultimately towards herself.
She is cunning in her ways, seeking power in any form available to her. She enjoys being idolized, and being able to use her influence to subjugate all beings through speech and slaughter. She has fought countless battles, and fled her own destruction just as many times. She puts herself in constant conflict with the many idols the world has produced, and her power constantly cycles between significance and non-existence.
Now, Ekusha comes to the Dungeon Keeper in hopes of securing power. She wants to conquer for herself an empire that will last until eternity. She wants subjects across all lands, in all realms, that stand before her. She sees the Dungeon Keeper as a messiah, his apocalypse a revolution, and herself an empress in the making.
Other:Often found observing from the universal sidelines, when not inhabiting any particular realm.
Incalculable amounts of experience in rising to power, over the course of countless lifetimes. |
9,533 | 268 | 92 | 2,360 | 668 | Kor listened respectfully to Athinar's plan, but frankly, he didn't care what tactics they used. He had been a solitary creature for many years and had fought his way out of plenty of jams, but his motives were always the same: get in, feed, get out. The senseless destruction and slaughter that had accompanied the last raid, while amusing, was not one of Kor's priorities. However, it seemed as though Shukra cared very much how the plan was carried out. Those two will come to blows one day, Kor thought. That'll be a battle worth seeing. "So you want me to do the same thing as last time," he said in response to the orders. "Kill priests and peasants, and burn down their temple. No problems there." | Name: Darkwraith Kor
Physical Form: The darkwraiths are beings that were once humans, but were twisted to depravity through the temptation of a dark serpent. These beings feast on the souls of their victims, and also on their very humanity. The darkwraiths have a drug-like addiction to humanity and in feasting on it, they drain the sanity from their victims to retain their own. Their skeletal appearance is actually a suit of armor granted to them by the serpent. Beneath it, the a healthy darkwraith looks very much human, but a starved one will have their nature revealed with wrinkled, rotting flesh. Kor stands at about six feet. Beneath his helmet, his face his stern and gaunt, with unkempt black hair and dark brown eyes. He has a muscular build derived from years of hunting down his prey.
Abilities: The Dark Hand- This is the magic weapon granted to all darkwraiths by the serpent. It is a manifestation of the darkness in their souls, and in its idle form appears to be an ethereal orb of blackness with streaks of red squirming about its wielder's hand. The Dark Hand can warp into both a sword and a shield with a complete physical manifestation. Due to the ethereal nature of the Dark Hand, it cannot be broken, but at the same time it will often yield to sturdy materials.
Lifedrain- The most feared of the darkwraith's abilities. The user channels his hunger into his Dark Hand and lunges at a victim. Upon contact, he drains the victim of his humanity. This does no physical damage to the target, but destroys its sanity, turning it into a soul-starved creature that will attack friend and foe alike. This ability does not work on those that are already corrupted or depraved, but on those that are valiant and righteous.
Abysswalker- In this world, there exist magics, indeed entire planes, forged from darkness itself. The darkwraiths are one of the few beings that thrive in such darkness. They are immune to the effects of darkness-based magic and can freely navigate through any realms made of darkness.
Red Eye Orb- A blood-red orb with a menacing eye carved into it. This orb seeks out the pure of heart, and once a target is located the orb will begin to pulsate. Once the target has been located, no amount of walls or barricades can stop a Darkwraith. They can use the Red Eye Orb to transport them to the general vicinity of the target. This comes with great risk, though. The orb does not reveal who the target is or what defenses are established, and it will only bring them withing 100 feet of the target. The darkwraith may be stepping into his own doom.
The Dark Sword- The melee weapon of choice for darkwraiths. The Dark Sword is a straight sword with a thick, wide, blade. The additional mass makes it good for staggering heavily armored foes. Though heavy, Kor can wield this blade masterfully, preferring to unleash a flurry of quick strikes rather than large single strikes.
Ring of the Evil Eye- Legend has it the this ring contains the spirit of a terrible monster that assaulted the lands long ago. Now, the power of this beast's cruelty is channeled into the bearer. With every slain foe, some of the wearer's energy is restored, and light wounds begin to heal.
Personality: In a word, voracious. Where others look at a battle and see terror and carnage, glory and honor, Kor sees a king's feast. These peaceful times have left Kor anxious and irritable from his hunger, but once his appetite becomes satiated he becomes as morbidly jovial as the next minion of darkness celebrating his victory.
Wants/Needs: Kor is driven by a relentless hunger for souls and humanity, but also takes pleasure in the dark. However, Kor is also reasonably intelligent, so any tools that would assist him in his hunt would be seen as an ample reward.
Backstory: Kor was once human, but that is all he remembers of his days before he was a darkwraith. For one reason or another, Kor found himself at the bottom of a pitch-black chasm, unmarked on any maps. He was terrified a first, but then he heard the voice of the serpent. It was a soothing voice, an infallible voice: "You were born from the Dark, why do you fear it?" Kor's pulse slowed and he sat upright. That's right, it was only darkness, there was no reason to be afraid. "Ah, you are not like the others who tremble at the Dark! Come, let me give you this gift, and you can be the savior to usher in a new age!" Naturally, the years of hiding in the shadows merely to sustain his own existence was grueling for Kor. However, when he heard of the new dungeon keeper, the prospect of open combat was appealing, plus he liked the new age that the dungeon keeper wanted to usher in. |
9,534 | 268 | 93 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens seemed to be satisfied at how the orcs would be organised, and gave a nod to Shukra to indicate this. Azvaran would need to be reassigned, but that was Athinar's problem. However, something else now bothered him. With Athinar's plan, unless some people were missing from the assembly, the frontal assault would consist solely of Shukra and Torrens. While this was the diversion, it still seemed disproportionate. Until his cunning managed to fill in gaps in the plan.
"I've realised that, with our current numbers, only Shukra and myself will be attending the frontal assault," Torrens stated, "However, I think I can see why so few numbers might work as a proper diversion. The most sensible plan would be to attack during the night. While your infiltration squad approaches from one side of the city and makes a quiet entrance, Shukra and myself would approach from the other side, with much fire and fanfare- tasks we are both well suited for. While the town responds to our arson, you can do your stuff with minimal fuss."
Torrens did not care if this was Athinar's original plan or not, as long as it became the plan now. "Of course, I think some kind of signal would be wise, to indicate if any one group has become overwhelmed. It would allow the infiltrators to inform us if our diversion isn't diverting their defenses adequately, or if we've been forced to withdraw so you know that the diversion will cease. Unlikely, of course, but a valuable contingency." | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,535 | 268 | 94 | 740 | 392 | That Which Consumes Peace teleports away from the master and rolls his eyes before beginning to teleport towards the town closest to the Dwarven outpost. Turning invisible, he wanders around the town, taking in the natural chaos that accompanies the everyday hustle and bustle of the markets and every day life. Soon, he spots a Marshall's office and teleports into it. The demon searches the place and finds blank documents that seem official, complete with the king's signature and all. He gathers these up along with some official looking flags and teleports out side of the building.
That smiles wickedly as he urges a nearby merchant to accuse a citizen of thievery. The demon urges the citizen to respond with a fist. Soon there is an all out brawl and That just stands there, absorbing it all. Then begins to teleport back to Twich and hands the things to the kobold, also relaying the information that the demon had gotten from the Master. | Name: Emily Kabal, Spirit's Sonnet
Physical Form: Innoculious and cute, Emily is in every way a young human girl that draws little attention and can go wherever she wants to without anyone becoming sucpicious, and anyone who does think to stop Emily gets such a heart melting smile they can't help but let her go on. She has no physical Tell to inform a person there is more than meets the eye, and she wears casual peasant garb which further enhances her ability to slip in wherever and whenever she wants.
Abilities: Magic is Emily's forte, and she fortes brilliantly. There are few human warlocks who could compete with Emily by herself, and she is assisted in her magical talent by four Sung Spirits - a special branch of spirit that can only be summoned by singing, rather than ritual - which pushes her magical prowess far beyond what any mortal could ever dream of. The three spirits she hosts are Storm, Earth and Fire, with an Overseer spirit that watches the other three and posesses talent in their schools. Most of her spells are generic, if powerfully utalized, but the one unique spell she posesses is Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown. It does not exist in this dimension the same way that the rest of her magic does, and so she needs help from her Fire spirit and the Overseer to conjuer it. She creates the physical shell while her spirits fill it with the fire itself. Once that is done, Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown can be used in two differen manners. The first is a singular target, which upon impact incinrates them internally and externally at the same moment, making it effective even against armour or barriers - something to note is that if the target can absorb heat and fire, then they are super-charged by it rather than burned to a cinder. The second is a wide spread attack that causes an extremely hot fire to voraciously spread through the surrounding area, engulfing a small village in moments. The strain, both physically and magically, is considerable so it is not often used. Another rather personal, but not unique, ability is how Emily can use her fire as a sort of Afterburner, and fly through the sky. This is not very subtle, and causes her magics to drain at a constant rate, so she does not use it lightly. The third uncommon ability is her teleporting from Fire to Fire. This requires a pillar of flame to engulf Emily, and then a second Pillar of flame to drop her off. The disadvantage is that it causes disorientation and the second pillar can sometimes not be available.
Aside from magical abilities Emily can - obviously - sing very well, and enjoys simply singing for the thrill of it. She puts this to use summoning her spirits, most commonly Blanks which can posess weak-willed humans or recently dead cadavers and provide Emily with feedback and obidience. With slightly more effort, Emily can bind elemental spirits to herself - or though currently she is at her limit and wants to give her body time to adjust before getting more - and also to beings like Wolves, and Badgers, and Sheep. And humans, but they are usually not so cool and not so plentiful. Emily has a sharp mind as well, able to create a plan in a few moments and chain together her three magical elements, creating a combo that is able to take out massive creatures, well confident of their own abilities before they came face to face with this young girl. Physically, she is of a standard teenagers strength and durability, so she avoids close combat.
A final, and rather unknown power, is Emily's ability to percieve Magic. When it is being used, how much, and also the strength of the person she is looking at. This gives her a clear advantage over other magic users, since it allows her to see what theyr are about to use, and work around it. This technique turns her eyes pure gold, and drains her power at a constant rate, so extended useage is unadvisable.
Wants/Needs: While Emily is happy serving Master in every way, she does have a long-term goal to summon and bind Spitfire, The Fire King, Nike, The Earth King, and Minami, the Storm King.
Relationships: Other than her devotion to the Master, Emily fits in well with all kind of Spirits, so she is often found in the company of Umbra and Narza.
Backstory: Emily is a Homonculus, an artifically created Human, and the first sucess in a string of failures that created useless, deformed monstrosities. She was created with magical power in mind, so the creation process sacrificed the strength most artificals could posess in return for a much deeper magical pool. Some think that she does not have a soul because she was created, but that is a falicy, since even Homonculi need souls to exist. She was pushed, magically, to increase her power, and get stronger until a point where she could handle Sung Spirits inhabiting her. She summoned her first, a spirit of Fire, and after a few months of training and control, summoned even more spirits until she had the total of four she has now.
Other: ((Anything else that you want to mention?)) |
9,536 | 268 | 95 | 215 | 1,683 | Athinar shrugged at Shukra's suggestions. "Well, you know your own forces better than I do. Still. You are going to order the orcs to form a perimeter, and take just enough with you to be able to get away if overwhelmed on the frontal assault." He was beginning to get a grudging respect for the cat. It didn't mean that he would listen to him all the time, and certainly not unquestioningly. "Your personal orders remain, Shukra. Azavarn will be moving around the battlefield, acting as support where needed." Looking at the demon, he said, "You have free reign to make any deals that you feel would be beneficial to the victory of our forces while keeping the town intact." Athinar grinned, under his helm. This included Shukra's orcs, obviously, but he wasn't limited in that role anymore.
Then, Torrens started to show some sass. Turned out that the small demon wasn't in any way afraid of Athinar. This confused him. Anything with a corporeal form should be at least wary of him. Why wasn't this demon intimidated? This frustrated Athinar, and he fell silent for several seconds. Looking to Narza, he said, "Little souls. In the case of a failure on our front, you will inform the other. You are the most mobile one." Anyone with the ability to sense souls would feel an overwhelming pressure, and their ability would be strained to the limit, but they would notice something much more vast than Athinar, in that moment. He looked at Torrens. "Fire Demon. The attack WILL be at night, obviously. Thank you for noticing the most fucking obvious thing here, Captain Useless Fuck. The silencing of the sounds of battle, and the lack of flame everywhere will be sufficient. Even if you manage to ignite quite a bit, there's a certain.... flare to you in battle, and just bathing in flames." Athinar smiled at his own pun, then grimaced. What was that? Something... else was there. It was like Athinar, but... different.
Shaking his head, he turned to some imps and said, "Let's move out, you little red sacks of shit! Create the portal!
Feel free to timeskip to just before the battle here. | Name: Athinar Gol-Gaia
Physical Form:
Tall, well-muscled, and stable, he is the pinnacle of physical perfection, even by the standards of some who would call themselves 'Immortal'. He is 6'8", and weighs at 300 pounds, in his normal form.
In his alternate form, he gains a sentient sword, and a set of armor which is actually part of him. In this form, sometimes his face is visible, but more often than not, he keeps his mask on. He is 7'0" even, and weighs 450 pounds.
Abilities:
Normal Form / Carnage Form - Athinar has decided to forgo magic that affects others, in favor of a magic that supplements his already impressive strength. His Carnage Form is a shell, which looks like armor, but actually is a super-dense exoskeleton. While in this form, he is significantly slower, but is immensely more powerful in terms of strength and defense.
Summon: Carnage Blade - Athinar has the ability to summon his Carnage blade at any time, however it is smaller and less impressive when he's not in Carnage form, although it still is alive, and speaks to him. The blade's name is Requiem. what the sword looks like, except with glowing red runes down the middle.
(Normal Form - Rock Style) Blood Palm - Athinar uses the blood spilled by anyone, including his own, in a fight, to empower his fist's attack.
Martial Arts - Athinar was trained in three forms of martial arts by the monks. However, he is only the equivalent of a black belt in one, and slightly competent in the others.
(Skilled)Rock Style - Athinar stays solid, and in place, for the most part. He uses his fists, elbows, and occasionally trips the enemy, but tries to keep his feet steady. For if he can, not much in the terms of human force can move him, but if anyone has trained in Windstance (or was strong enough), they could move him through sheer momentum and weight transfer.
(Beginner)The Path of the Cyclone - Not so much a martial art as a series of moves, executed one after the other, this unarmed style is used to fight large groups of enemies. There are twelve moves altogether, in three groups. However, Athinar was only taught the first group, and cannot continue the momentum of the Path.
- Leaping Tornado: Athinar lunges forward, landing among his enemies.
- Unseen Tempest: Athinar waits three seconds for enemies to close in, ready to strike.
- Stormblade: Athinar ducks down beneath a man's weapon, and elbows him in the chest/neck area.
- Cyclone Kick: Athinar does a roundhouse kick, tripping all surrounding enemies.
However, these are usually poorly executed, due to lack of training.
(Beginner) Celestial Mirage - This is possibly the martial art that he's learned that he has the most trouble with. It is a kick-based martial art, one that forces you to maintain patience. It's attacks come in bursts, to draw the enemy out, and allow the student to analyze the situation. However bad Athinar is with this, it was still one of the arts he learned from the monks, and he views it as a useful, albeit F*CKING INFURIATING skill.
Personality: Athinar gets intense pleasure from seeing other creature's blood. No matter the circumstances, or whether he is allied with them or not. When he is not getting excited by bloodlust, he is usually a very calm, collected individual, who is quite intelligent, surprisingly. When blood is near, he turns into a vicious man, taking pleasure in drawing blood, tasting it, etc. Afterwards, he is, shall we say, *ahem* easily excitable. If you know what I mean. However, this doesn't mean that he's not smart. He is extremely smart, in his bloodlust, and will be able to craft plans on the fly, if they end in violence and killing.
Relationships:
Emily- Thinks that the homunculus is beneath his attention, generally, unless she does something big and shiny.
That Which Consumes Peace- A fool, disobeying the Boss, but made a nice save, getting Shukra mildly punished.
Ekushka- Hasn't met her yet.
Narza- Is quite fond of the little ghost, curretly.
Shukra- A pompous ass who fails at commanding.
Darkwraith Kor- A good fighter, like Athinar, who shares his bloodlust. Enjoys his company.
Azavarn- Too flamboyant.
Umbra/Christopher- Thinks that Christopher is a bit off, but doesn't know why.
Torrens- Doesn't have any opinion of him, but thinks that a fire demon might be useful.
Clotho- Has a strange fixation on Clotho's chitin.
Twitch- Has disdain for the ratty, well, twitchy kobold. Maybe if he actually did something, he might be useful.
Backstory: Athinar is the reincarnated form of an ex-Dungeon Keeper, banished from his former world, and born to a new life in this one. However, he don't remember shit, and the only benefits were the impressive physical abilities you see today. He was born to an order of monks, who trained him in every combat style, unarmed and armed. However, this revealed his darker secret, his love for shedding blood. Killing them all, he was guided by a voice in his head, who told him that if he joined with him, he'd get to kill, kill, and keep killing. So he met up with the Dungeon Keeper, and started killing.
Other: If Athinar seems too powerful, remember that he was converted to the Dungeon Keeper's cause by him just saying that he could kill people if he joined him. He's not dumb, but he does have quite the one-track-mind, and is quite susceptible to manipulation, in both forms. Like, REALLY susceptible. A novice hypnotist could put him to sleep. |
9,537 | 268 | 96 | 1,449 | 5,930 | After sorting out business in the Dungeon, Emily's stride was casual and unhurried. It wasn't as if the village was going anywhere, so running over there was pointless. Instead, she enjoyed the scenery. It was nice scenery, but even at an unhurried saunter, the world did not last forever. So, Emily found herself in the village she was going to and began her work. Her eyes flickered Golden for a few moments, and then back to their base colour after she saw that there was nobody with enough magical potental to see what she was doing. There where few people who bothered with the young girl 'playing' at the edge of the village, each person assuming she was another's daughter, and so she was left alone.
Like last time, Emily walked around the entirety of the village, before starting to go into it, not flying like last time because that ended rather badly. A twinkling strand of light fell from her hand, and marked the ground as she moved, past man, woman and child. They seemed pretty peaceful, and nobody had heard about the other village attack yet, so Emily knew they had done it very well. She pictured it all going up in fire, and it was a good sight, to her at least. The rune she was drawing had a different, more intricate pattern than the one she had spawned Fire Spirits with, and obviously nothing else would do for the Kitsune.
Once the rune was all drawn up, Emily moved to a point in the middle of town where every line intersected to make a small circle. It was there, that Emily held out her hand and created her Empyrean Husk, considerably larger than the one she had given Torrens. Then her Spirits filled it with the white flame, and it glowed, in the center of town as Emily started to leave, singing a beautiful song.
"How can you see into my eyes like open doors? Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb. Without a soul my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold, Until you find it there and lead it back home" Heavy music suddenly filled the village, making several of the villagers jump in surprise, and then a male voice sung in response to Emily's words. It was all a magnificent show, and when Emily got to pass the Rune, a sudden pillar of flame roared upwards, engulfing the entire village and scrapping the heavens before dissapating, and leaving a woman, floating on nothing, with five bushy tails spread out behind her. It saw Emily, and then was suddenly in front of her, in the blink of an eye.
"Hello darling" The Kitsune cooed, giggling softly to itself. | Name: Clotho
Physical Form: Clotho is a foot taller than most men, with long arms and legs, and has a chitinous exoskeleton that is a dull brown-maroon in color. Four gossamer rounded wings, transparent green with orange edges, form into a cloak when not in use. Her shell forms into a barbaric-style armor around her shoulders, knees and thighs, gauntlets, and chest. Small spikes line many of the edges of her shell. Her face is crossed with seams, her nose is inhumanly sharp, and her wide mouth is lined with razor-sharp teeth. A shock of black hair more like spines protrudes from the top of her head. Additionally, her eyes are a bright, luminescent green, with layered pupil rings. Instead of hair, two membranous mini-wings protruding from her upper back form into a hood.
Abilities: Clotho's wings grant her the power of flight, which she can perform with almost ludicrous speed and agility. Her insect carapace functions like armor, affording her ample protections. Hidden inside her left forearm is the Stinger, which she can project from her palm for stabbing. The Stinger can inject a variety of toxins into a target, all of which are manufactured chemically within Clotho's own glands. Such toxins include 'poison', 'paralysis', 'mutation', 'subordination', 'blindness', and 'calcification'.
Cloth also has the ability to command bugs and parasites. Aside from conjuring flies, hornets, leeches, worms, and flesh-eating beetles, sometimes in vast swarms, she also controls her own minions in the form of Myrmidons, Lambent, and Antlions. These she orders around via chirp-calls, and she has no true leadership ability.
The true combat ability of Clotho, however, lies in her rapier. With a barbed tip, it can slide into flesh cleanly and eviscerate it on the way out. Its flexible blade allows Clotho to lash the tip around when fighting, cutting and gashing opponents as she opens them up for a thrust. Its deceptive deadliness, couple with Clotho's uncanny speed and notable strength, make it a lethal tool of destruction.
Personality: A certain conflict underlies Clotho's convincing exterior. Deep inside she is still Nona, confused and reticent and immature. This directly disparages with the aged experience of the that melded its soul with hers, whose bloodthirsty monstrosity has guided her thus far as a Keeper. The union of the two distinct spirits produced Clotho, a cunning, intelligent imperialist. Clotho is without conscious barring the distant, faint murmurs of the suppressed girl within her, and will kill without question, though good judgment keeps her from exercising this often. Though self-centered, she is more than willing to make alliances and deals for mutual gain, and will even adhere to them—an behavior unheard of among most such creatures.
Wants/Needs: Clotho lusts for power and control. She wants nothing more than to rise through the ranks of her master and become both his most powerful warrior and most trusted ally. Eventually, Clotho wishes to gain the ability to become a Dungeon Keeper herself, though she does not plan whatsoever on betraying her current master.
Relationships: None
Backstory: Clotho was once human, an urchin of Virens. This premier logging town, situated in the Oerwood Forest north of the Saploya river, was home to over two hundred thousand, but never truly to a girl called Nona. Surviving by her wits and her knack for finding odd jobs, she later became reliant on the family of Theo Rosenstern. Theo, playing the nobleman as well as the romantic, sought to feel better about his own clan's success and gain a girlfriend in the process by hanging out with Nona and helping her get by. Ever in need of aid, Nona accepted, forming an uneasy relationship with the boy while trying to make ends meet. From a young age, the Biomancer's Guild of Virens, responsible for the magical acceleration of conditioning of the city's saplings and crops, had fascinated her, but her own lowly beginnings and ineptitude for magic estranged her from the organization.
It was in this stagnation, during her nineteenth year of a woeful life, that a voice first reached out to her through her dreams. Its whispers, low and meaningless at first, grew in strength as she became more desperate, and finally its message became clear: journey into the jungle and find a special insect. After convincing Theo to accompany her, Nona left in the morning to pursue her dream. Hours later, she arrived in an unpeopled lumber camp miles from the city limits. Upon entering the shack at its center, she beheld a nasty-looking metallic green wasp confined in a jar. In a trance, she seized the jar -totally unresponsive to Theo's urges- and smashed it against the ground, freeing the wasp. Immediately it stung her, injecting into her the ancient soul of an insidious being of darkness—Kafka.
The two minds, girl and monster, melded, and in the process her own body transformed into its current state. Long before the modification finished, Theo took to his heels. That day, Clotho came to be.
From there she imposed herself on the forest, thinking to become a force of darkness. Though the self-appointed Vermin Queen stockpiled quite the retinue of mindless insectoid minions, and gave the nearby towns a great deal of trouble, she never quite lived up to the status of an evil overlord. After a botched attempt to obliterate her former hometown caused an army of avenging townsfolk to converge on her lair, she fled south until she happened to find one of the Overlord's bands. After wiping the plains with them, she sought the Overlord's dungeon, and pledged her service to him without question. |
9,538 | 268 | 97 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens chuckled under his breath (so to speak) at Athinar's insults and outrage. Someone's pissed, he thought to himself, although he had the good sense to not say that aloud. What he did say was, "Of course, Captain Boss Man. I was just making it clear for everyone." He gave a mock bow and stepped back. It was true that Torrens did not fear Athinar, since contrary to Athinar's own experience with corporeal forms Torrens' body was not breakable, so he feared no injury. That, and Athinar was made of flesh while Torrens' body was thousands of degrees, one of which would beat the other with ease. Of course, a fight before the raid would be counterproductive, and he hoped that they would be able to continue to the raid, but his concerns for himself were minimal. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,539 | 268 | 98 | 538 | 2,678 | With some degree of amusement, the imps that Athinar commanded to build a portal told him that they could do no such thing. Teleporting back to the Dungeon from elsewhere was easy enough, especially because the Master could help on his end, but for their magic to open a reliable rift to some faraway location was nearly impossible. Otherwise, the Horde would have simply teleported straight into Ardebit's capital and sacked the place. No, the mighty Athinar would have to walk.
Still, it was not a terribly long march. They passed the still smoldering ruins of the past village at noon, and then before they knew it, dusk fell. Fortunately it was only a short night march from there before they were nearly upon their target village. The midnight land was an inky black, illuminated only by the eerie, scarce light of a full moon. In this black hour the forces of evil at last arrived to crush this sleepy town.
Shrouded in the oppressive darkness, the warband managed to stroll right down one of the roads leading right into the town and were now within sights of its palisades. The wooden walls were perhaps a foot thick and a dozen times that high. The palisade was mostly constructed of large vertical logs whose tops were sharpened, though they was also the occasional horizontal bar for reinforcement. It was a sturdy wall and would be fairly hard to scale, but there were plenty of gates to sieze and of course the wooden wall could simply be burned down.
The gates of the town were of course closed at night, and while they were made of sturdy oak Torrens or Shukra would be able to obliterate them easily enough with their fire. In any case, there were a few guards on watch by the gate, but nearby torches illuminated them to any attacker while also rendering them night blind. To top that, the guards had a keg of some sort of alcohol that they were most likely drunk off of. Those guards would be easy pickings.
The village did have a small garrison, which was located within an unassuming barracks inconveniently in the heart of the township. The commotion from charging the village would most likely rouse the few dozen guards, and while they might be slow to react, once they did come out there could be trouble as they were armed fairly well and knew every street and alley.
Beyond that, here were not many buildings so tall as to be discerned in the darkness from so far away and on the other side of the palisade. Three buildings did dominate the town, however: there was an old yet rather grand villa that was surely home to the knightly family that lorded over these parts, there was a rather large inn of three stories that would most likely be full of drunkards and bustling with activity even at this hour, and then there was a most unusual structure hewn from blocks of stone, with one side black and one side white.
That third building was the local temple, and just a glance would be enough for one to know that this was no ordinary Temple to the Holy Light filled with monks and clerics. Unlike the last village, and indeed much of these rural parts, this was a temple to two foreign gods from across the sea: Caldor, mighty lord of fire, bravery, and conquest, and then Unda, the water goddess whose domain included storms, healing, life, and prosperity. Any who had been to the larger coastal cities of Ardebit or to lands across the sea might know about this strange religion. It was slowly spreading throughout the Kingdom, though most rural places like this retained the older faith that kept to beliefs of holy magic, celestial heavens, and angels.
The worshipers of Caldor and Unda knew no such holy magic. Indeed, to them such things were witchcraft: the clergy that would be found within the temple would be powerful sorcerers, but they would fight by manipulating fire, ice, water, and lightning rather than invoking some sort of spirits or holy power like most other priests or monks would.
But before they did anything to the village, it would be wise of them to assess the nearby area. All around them were orchards and farmlands, and while the small farmhouses were few and far between, there was the risk of the orcs surrounding the town being seen, and some farmers would likely be roused by the sound of battle. If that happened some farmers might flee and spread word of the attack, while others might grab their weapons, form mobs, and foolishly charge to the rescue. Perhaps it would be wise to visit all of the isolated farmhouses first before turning to the village. | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,540 | 268 | 99 | 1,809 | 47 | A dark figure sits on a throne made out of rock inside one of the abandoned tunnels underneath the Dwarven Outpost. The strange creature is clothed in black robes that cover everything but its head and hands, the head of the creature is like that of a four tentacled octopus with purple skin and pupilless milk white eyes peering at the strange insect that one of its Dwarven mind slaves is approaching with. "My Lord Xallihion, we found a couple of these strange bugs crawling through the tunnel. None of the others know what they are, but they are very easy to kill" The former Dwarven miner will stop about five feet from Xallihion, kneeling down and offering up the dead insect that has a single wound where its head is, obviously from the pickaxe that the Dwarf still has on his hip.
Xallihion will lean forward in his stone throne and after a few seconds the Dwarf will hear a voice in his mind, Get rid of the body and kill any others that approach this area, Now. As the Dwarf stands up and bows, Xallihion will lean back in his throne and watches the Dwarf leave and gather the other five Dwarven mind slaves that Xallihion has under his control. It appears someone else is interested in these Dwarves, I could feel the connection between that insect and something stronger than it and far away. With his tentacles moving faster than their normal slow movements, they are the only sign of Xallihion's growing interest in this new player that is coming into his territory, Well then, shall we see who is more suited to being in my service? With that, Xallihion gets more comfortable in his throne and summons a small orb that allows him to see the Dwarven Outpost above him, fully intending to sit back and watch the show in safety and comfort. | Name: Xallihion
Standing at 6' 3, Xallihion has a frail body and is obviously more used to pouring over a tome than manual labor.
Abilities: Xallihion uses Telepathy to communicate with those within a 100 feet radius around himself, as his natural mouth is incapable of producing speech and has very good night vision as his race lives deep in the earth where there is no light. Xallihion's powerful mind also allows him to rip the will from those who are not mentally strong or to send out a wave that can mentally stun those caught in it for a few seconds. Xallihion has spent most of his life studying magic, learning to kill his enemies from afar so that he doesn't have to get his own hands dirty. Xallihion prefers to use pure Force magic when he fights his enemies, though setting them on fire with a Fireball or encasing them in ice with a Frostbolt is also a favored tactic.
Personality: Xallihion keeps his emotions out of the equation and uses cold logic to make his plans and execute them to the greatest effect. When it comes down to it, Xallihion prefers to use cat's paws and minions/slaves to carry out his plans and to keep his own hands from having to get dirty.
Wants/Needs: Xallihion's whole goal is to acquire power and any knowledge of magic that he can
Relationships: Has no feelings one way or another about anyone (subject to change if someone keeps messing with his plans or is deemed to be a useful lackey/scape goat)
Backstory: Xallihion's race has long been hidden deep within the earth, rulers of the land where light has never touched. Holding a middle rank amoungst his people, Xallihion began a quest for power that would end up consuming his world. Xallihion was lured to the surface by his constant search for knowledge and power, with this quest eventually bringing him into contact with the Dungeon Keeper. Upon meeting this powerful creature, Xallihion quickly offered his serves in exchange for knowledge and power.
Other: - |
9,541 | 268 | 100 | 268 | 1,389 | On the approach to the town Torrens made an effort to keep a low profile. In the darkness of night, his incandescence was all too plain, and any guards looking anywhere near his direction would certainly notice the glow. With any luck, they would just think it was a normal person carrying a torch and glance over it, although that might be a bit of a stretch of expectations. Stealth was not something he was any good at. Most things to hide behind were rather flammable, so cover was very, very limited. As far as he was concerned, the sooner he started his part of the attack, the better.
"Hey, Athinar, how long should I wait before I start burning things?" he asked in hushed tones. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,542 | 268 | 101 | 215 | 1,683 | Athinar looked down on the village, surrounded by his fellow champions of the Master, from a ridge that wasn't that high, but it was far enough away to overlook the town as well. Viewing devices hung from his belt, and one of them was held in a massive palm, spyglass to Athinar's eye. His helmet was on the ground beside him, and he looked around at the town, noting several farmhouses and hunter's cabins in the surrounding area. It would be best if there was a distraction, or if the peasants were all crushed quickly and quietly. The main population was in the village center, and the outliers would be an acceptable loss.
However. If the peasants formed a mob, and attracted enough attention from the village, maybe the guards would leave the town. Maybe. There was also a good chance that they would fortify the town as well, and ignore the farmers. However, this would severely affect the morale of the defenders, and make it easier for the attackers to take down a shaken enemy.
Tossing the spyglass and other viewing devices to an imp, who had been brought for the sole purpose of carrying the instruments, Athinar clapped his hands together, and pulled his helm on. "We don't have that many frontline fighters, other than those Vorhaas Orcs, and they're barely two hundred strong. We'd be needing three-quarters of those to surround the village, so Torrens and Shukra," he said this with a grimace of mild distaste under his thick metal helm, "Unfortunately, you'll be left with 50 or so Orcs. Not as many as I'd like to send you out with, but still. If used correctly, we'll be able to accomplish our objectives."
Looking Torrens over, appraising him, Athinar looked back at the town. "Every moment you stay out here, the greater the chance that some peasant will notice you. I'd like you to draw attention to one of the outlying farms. If a fire starts, and a family is killed inside, or even better, if there's a survivor, it'll draw those sheep-shaggers together like a moth to their filthy lamps. Their sense of community is commendable, if foolish." Turning to Shukra, Athinar pointed out several of the other farmhouses. "Listen, I want your Orcs to ambush anyone foolish enough to go rushing through the woods, or leave the gate, to go help. There are several areas where the woods appear to be thicker, so they would be excellent ambush sites. While this is happening, my team will gain one of the gates on the east side of town, and head towards the temple. Azavarn, feel free to roam and make any deals that you feel would be appropriate to help the cause. Also, as we discussed earlier, the remaining Orcs will surround the town, catching any runaways, and preventing any help from arriving. Torrens, wait for us to get in position to execute the plan, before you burn down the house. Narza, you will tell Torrens when to start, and then come immediately back. Azavarn, to start off, I'd go to the tavern, or barracks." The grin on his mask matched his face, under the metal casing. "Should be FILLED with your sort of people." Athinar stood up, saying, "Head out. And BE CAREFUL to not draw attention before you need to."
Athinar then started to run at a speed that few long-distance couriers could match, loping pace reminding some of a vicious wolf, or other predator. If the others weren't right behind him, well, he would enjoy this all himself.
Something stirred inside the man. It was not noticeable yet, but over the course of the battle, he would find his need for blood to increase, and his patience fray. This might affect the viciousness of his plans, but it wouldn't interfere with his judgement. | Name: Athinar Gol-Gaia
Physical Form:
Tall, well-muscled, and stable, he is the pinnacle of physical perfection, even by the standards of some who would call themselves 'Immortal'. He is 6'8", and weighs at 300 pounds, in his normal form.
In his alternate form, he gains a sentient sword, and a set of armor which is actually part of him. In this form, sometimes his face is visible, but more often than not, he keeps his mask on. He is 7'0" even, and weighs 450 pounds.
Abilities:
Normal Form / Carnage Form - Athinar has decided to forgo magic that affects others, in favor of a magic that supplements his already impressive strength. His Carnage Form is a shell, which looks like armor, but actually is a super-dense exoskeleton. While in this form, he is significantly slower, but is immensely more powerful in terms of strength and defense.
Summon: Carnage Blade - Athinar has the ability to summon his Carnage blade at any time, however it is smaller and less impressive when he's not in Carnage form, although it still is alive, and speaks to him. The blade's name is Requiem. what the sword looks like, except with glowing red runes down the middle.
(Normal Form - Rock Style) Blood Palm - Athinar uses the blood spilled by anyone, including his own, in a fight, to empower his fist's attack.
Martial Arts - Athinar was trained in three forms of martial arts by the monks. However, he is only the equivalent of a black belt in one, and slightly competent in the others.
(Skilled)Rock Style - Athinar stays solid, and in place, for the most part. He uses his fists, elbows, and occasionally trips the enemy, but tries to keep his feet steady. For if he can, not much in the terms of human force can move him, but if anyone has trained in Windstance (or was strong enough), they could move him through sheer momentum and weight transfer.
(Beginner)The Path of the Cyclone - Not so much a martial art as a series of moves, executed one after the other, this unarmed style is used to fight large groups of enemies. There are twelve moves altogether, in three groups. However, Athinar was only taught the first group, and cannot continue the momentum of the Path.
- Leaping Tornado: Athinar lunges forward, landing among his enemies.
- Unseen Tempest: Athinar waits three seconds for enemies to close in, ready to strike.
- Stormblade: Athinar ducks down beneath a man's weapon, and elbows him in the chest/neck area.
- Cyclone Kick: Athinar does a roundhouse kick, tripping all surrounding enemies.
However, these are usually poorly executed, due to lack of training.
(Beginner) Celestial Mirage - This is possibly the martial art that he's learned that he has the most trouble with. It is a kick-based martial art, one that forces you to maintain patience. It's attacks come in bursts, to draw the enemy out, and allow the student to analyze the situation. However bad Athinar is with this, it was still one of the arts he learned from the monks, and he views it as a useful, albeit F*CKING INFURIATING skill.
Personality: Athinar gets intense pleasure from seeing other creature's blood. No matter the circumstances, or whether he is allied with them or not. When he is not getting excited by bloodlust, he is usually a very calm, collected individual, who is quite intelligent, surprisingly. When blood is near, he turns into a vicious man, taking pleasure in drawing blood, tasting it, etc. Afterwards, he is, shall we say, *ahem* easily excitable. If you know what I mean. However, this doesn't mean that he's not smart. He is extremely smart, in his bloodlust, and will be able to craft plans on the fly, if they end in violence and killing.
Relationships:
Emily- Thinks that the homunculus is beneath his attention, generally, unless she does something big and shiny.
That Which Consumes Peace- A fool, disobeying the Boss, but made a nice save, getting Shukra mildly punished.
Ekushka- Hasn't met her yet.
Narza- Is quite fond of the little ghost, curretly.
Shukra- A pompous ass who fails at commanding.
Darkwraith Kor- A good fighter, like Athinar, who shares his bloodlust. Enjoys his company.
Azavarn- Too flamboyant.
Umbra/Christopher- Thinks that Christopher is a bit off, but doesn't know why.
Torrens- Doesn't have any opinion of him, but thinks that a fire demon might be useful.
Clotho- Has a strange fixation on Clotho's chitin.
Twitch- Has disdain for the ratty, well, twitchy kobold. Maybe if he actually did something, he might be useful.
Backstory: Athinar is the reincarnated form of an ex-Dungeon Keeper, banished from his former world, and born to a new life in this one. However, he don't remember shit, and the only benefits were the impressive physical abilities you see today. He was born to an order of monks, who trained him in every combat style, unarmed and armed. However, this revealed his darker secret, his love for shedding blood. Killing them all, he was guided by a voice in his head, who told him that if he joined with him, he'd get to kill, kill, and keep killing. So he met up with the Dungeon Keeper, and started killing.
Other: If Athinar seems too powerful, remember that he was converted to the Dungeon Keeper's cause by him just saying that he could kill people if he joined him. He's not dumb, but he does have quite the one-track-mind, and is quite susceptible to manipulation, in both forms. Like, REALLY susceptible. A novice hypnotist could put him to sleep. |
9,543 | 268 | 102 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens nodded on receiving his orders. "You can count on me." As the group began to split Torrens gave a casual salute and descended to the farms, approaching the indicated house. He had spied out the area beforehand from the ridge, and had spotted what appeared to be a ditch not too far from his target. As such, he sprinted along a path, his pace unhampered by the need of oxygen or chemical energy, and slid into the ditch, finding it a bit muddy but not full of water, which was alright. In the ditch, which should provide ample cover, he lay on his back and waited. The mud around him dried almost instantly, and after a short while the dirt began to melt, although the glow from that wasn't any brighter than his own, so he stayed put and got comfortable. Although he wanted to move out and burn stuff as soon as possible, Torrens knew he had to wait for the signal from Narza, and so wait he did. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,544 | 268 | 103 | 1,499 | 991 | The wind stirred some of the branches below the weeping tree. The leaves and surrounding grass started to turn brown and wither. Slowly the shadow grew and began to take shape. A image of a warrior in old styled armor became less transparent and a sword of smoke grew from his left hand. The face was a dark shadow under a ragged hood. This image of a nightmare born of mens fear grew denser. It could feel the impending evil descending on this area. Like the eye of pure hate burning the towns soul. Whether or not the inhabitants were aware was irrelevant. Death had come to them like a murder of crows to the smell of carrion.
It knew now was the time. It descended into one of the farming villages closest to the town, greeted by the brief shrills of fear. The sword pierced their souls ignoring the meat. Their hearts stopped and their lips turned blue. The flesh on their bodies turned putrid and a dark green. His image looked real except for the space between his feet and the ground... | Name: Cold stare
Physical form: Manifestation of 6ft incorporeal image hovering 3 inches off the ground.
Abilities: Necrotizing fasciitis in 3ft diameter when manifested. Moves threw physical barriers. Ghost blade ignores physical barriers, plunged into the living removes the warmth of life. Person actually dies of hypothermia with no physical wound. The air grows cold on his approach and plants wilt only when manifested. Invisible when not manifested. Can be repelled from a area, and blocked from manifesting for 24 hours. Able to see the life force of the living. The dead are invisible, he only sees what he wants to. Has the dead traits of being immune to sleep, poison, death, physical damage, disease, charm, illusion, and additional curses.
Personality: Cold.
Desires/Goals: Driven by the single goal Murdering the human race that let him die in the street. Only in the face of horror do humans find their nobler selves. I will bring them fear as they will never forget.
Back story: Once a champion of the people. This knight of justice fought on their behalf slaying all who would prey on the innocent. No matter the odds this champion would ride forth and right the wrong. Not for king, or queen, but the people. Bandits, thieves, corrupt royalty, cowardly guards, it mattered little to him. Steel was the scales of justice he used to exact forgiveness from the wrong.
After one such crusade against the corrupt band of mercenaries exacting a protection toll (some from the very flesh of the villages youth) in a farming village, this champion put the sword to these villains. Heavily out numbered and taking some cross bow fire he prevailed. Mortally wounded he asked the people for help. The village closed there doors and let him die in the street. The fear they had lived with for so long stayed even after the threat was gone. With his dying breath he cursed, not them but himself for believing that good deeds sowed the seed of fellowship. The villagers later dragged him and the mercenaries to the woods at the edge of town and left them to rot. Years later he arose, from his own death after his body was eaten by scavengers. Cursed to never know peace by his own soul, by the people he devoted his life to protect, by the gods. |
9,545 | 268 | 104 | 1,512 | 202 | Narza listens with surprising focus as Athinar gives his orders. Typically she would be goofing off in the background, staying invisible so no one could chide her for insubordination, but after the incident just before the crew had left, Narza was considerably more wary of Athinar now. She nods carefully at Athinar as she receives her orders, watching his soul anxiously for any sign of a change. The presence he had briefly shown earlier felt instinctively more dangerous than anything else she'd felt before, save probably the Master himself. Athinar continues speaking without so much as a slight perturbation and Narza relaxes.
She keeps pace behind Athinar easily as they move toward the one of the gates, floating silently and invisibly over the grass. She leaves a few wisps of fog around her body to let the others know where she was roughly. It would be easy enough to spot up close, but impossible to make out from a distance. | Name: Narza (unable to remember her last name)
Physical Form:
Chimeric Specter
Narza is an amalgamation of a wide variety of souls, brought about by a somewhat mediocre dark mage named Derrik. The dark mage combined, a few dozen tormented human souls, the soul of an innocent young human girl, freshly killed to serve as the catalyst, and three different Elementals, one of Wind, one of Water, and one of Darkness. Dreaming of power and infamy, Derrik aimed to create a fearsome tri-element familiar and make his familiar’s personality more easily controlled by using a young girl’s soul as the base. While the dark mage succeeded in fusing the souls, one of his more mediocre points showed in his binding abilities.
The chimeric spirit broke free and consumed the dark mage the split-second after it was born. Because the chimeric spirit hadn’t settled and solidified, it ended up absorbing the dark mage into its core, giving it some of the abilities of the dark mage as well. A battle for dominance over the soul ensued. The dark mage, already weakened by the fusion process, was unanimously dealt with by the other souls. The elementals fell next, overwhelmed by the many insane human souls. With the elementals gone, the tormented souls fell upon each other, tearing each other apart in mindless agony. In the end, only the soul of the young girl, added most recently (aside from the dark mage), was left intact. Her name was Narza.
Magic and Abilities:
Invisibility (turn invisible, simple for a ghost)
Incorporeal Form (she actually can’t touch things if she tried, currently)
Soul Steal (steal a target’s soul, works better on weaker and weakened targets)
Devour soul (grow stronger by consuming a soul, stronger souls are more difficult to consume but are worth more. Slightly increases her magical power.)
Possess Husk(take control of a soulless body. Allows Narza to take a physical form and use that body’s magic at a fraction of its strength. She can’t preserve its health until stronger.)
Elemental Affinity for Water/Ice
Elemental Affinity for Wind/Air
Flight (ghosts can naturally fly)
Resistant to poison (How would you poison a ghost?)
Soul Sense (Sense souls around Narza, souls have to be sensed before they can be interacted with afterall)
Soul Replacement (put a soul back into a soulless body.)
Locked: (until more souls are eaten and she grows stronger)
Soul Scour (rip apart a soul for information. Narza can learn a magic if she rips apart enough souls that know that magic. Also aids in digestion.)
Corporeal Form (become solid, taking any appearance)
Elemental Affinity for Darkness
Soul Fusion (combine stolen souls.)
Lightning (subtype of Wind/Air)
Weaknesses:
Fire/Heat
Earth
Holy/Light Magic
Sanctified ground/equipment
Holy Water (somewhat nullified by Water/Ice Affinity)
Due to Narza’s Wind/Water/Darkness affinity and spirit body, she’s doubly vulnerable to light and heat. She also can’t pass through the ground like normal ghosts until she’s stronger. Additionally, Narza cannot learn any magic of opposing elements. Has no skill with weapons.
Personality: Innocent, naive, and terribly hateful. Has the personality of a young girl, the ambition of a failed dark mage, and the hatred and anger of many dozens of tormented souls. As a former twelve-year old, Narza little knowledge of the world save for the bits absorbed from her shredded inhabitants, but is curious and sharp. She’s also spiteful and mischievous, with little moral direction even without factoring in the dark mage in her. When the malice of the tormented souls wrests free of her control as they will from time to time, she’ll seemingly lose her temper without warning. Occasionally, she will ask you for your soul out of the blue when her hunger gets to be too much.
Wants/Needs: Souls, especially magical ones or those of mages.
Relationships: Likes to hang out with fellow spirits such as Narza and Umbra.
Backstory: The dark mage Narza consumed left behind a slight sense of loyalty and responsibility to the Dungeon Keeper, so she asked to serve as well, and was accepted. She has inherited the Derrik's possessions, which are:
Basic clothing: Musty dark mage robes, all black and nefarious-looking. And smelling. Narza wouldn't wear them even if she could. (Not that she floats around naked, mind you. She wears what she wore when she died (but will be able to change that later.))
Basic alchemy set
Alchemy ingredient shelf, poorly stocked (previous owner wasn't big on alchemy)
Ritual circle, high-class but defective (Since Narza was able to break free)
Enchanted storage ring, low level, holding dust, empty alchemy flasks, and dirty clothing (has a capacity space of two square meters)
Basic elemental spell tomes: A beginner's guide to Fire Magic, A beginner's guide to Water Magic, A beginner's guide to Wind Magic, A beginner's guide to Earth Magic, A beginner's guide to Dark Magic (laying in a disorderly pile on the floor.)
Arlog's Thesis on soul-binding - Abridged version (another tome
Binding and Sealing - All you need to take a Familiar (Well leafed magic tome, and frozen solid)
Enchanted dagger, for rituals and self-defense. (Never dulls, and is sharper and tougher than normal. Holds a sinister miasma since it has been immersed in dark magic and taken the lives of many innocents in cold blood. Nothing special though.)
Scrying orb of low quality (See distant locations, but only from far away, or a specific location, but must have been there before.)
Staff of Darkness (An enchanted length of wood that make using dark magic slightly easier. Even a level One mage would start with better gear than this.
Mana-recovery trinkets (Barely worth wearing, and also too gaudy.)
Various spell books (all shelved, that Narza can't get to yet since she isn't corporeal. )
Enchanted treasure chest (enchanted to resist weather effects and only open to the owner, holding a mix of souls from different races)
Other: Would be classified as an Assassin/Mage I suppose. Will do anything for a soul. |
9,546 | 268 | 105 | 351 | 2,364 | From the web that was the Master's Dungeon, Twich waited while the skills of his co-workers were put to use.
While Ekusha went out into the world and did whatever it was that she was going to do and That Which Consumes Peace hopefully remembered what he had been asked to do and didn't just ignore it to do his own thing out of pure spite, Twich moved to join Clotho in her 'Command Center' in order to try and get an idea of what they were going into.
The whole 'Dragonfly Eye' effect of the Chamber of Eyes was as unnerving as it was interesting, but Twich attempted to rally himself as much as possible in order to gleam as much information as he could for himself instead of having to relay completely on Clotho for a translation of the raw data that was flooding in. "Good call on sending some of your more... warlike little friends into ambush positions but I don't want them moving in unless we are completely out of options and we decide to abandon all pretense that the humans were responsible for this raid. If the dwarves that scout the place out afterwards find strange, inhuman tunnels leading into their own and find their kin slain by inhuman monsters its going to be hard to blame humans for it..."
"Try to locate as many ventilation shafts as possible while you are at it... I'm sure that I've got a couple of concoctions that dwarves wouldn't be able to breath in but your bugs should handle just fine... I might just get started on that now."
In fact, Twich had already returned to his quarters and was getting to work putting together a lovely little persant for the dwarves in the lower tunnels of the mine which needed those ventilation shafts when That Which Consumes Peace returned with prize and information. Twich listened and inspected what the demon had recovered with glee. "How good are you at forging an official looking document? It just needs to be written in a fancy manner and get across the point that-" the Kobold actually tried to make his voice sound as prim and pompous as possible as he dictated "His royal holiness the Emperor has deemed this land to be part of his sovereign soil and thus to be used for the benefit of humanity alone. He has ruled that all other races found here are merely squatters to be dealt with in whatever manner his honored and humble servant -whomever the local managing noble is- deems fit. Consider this your official eviction notice. "
Coughing a little as he took the chance to catch his breath and return his voice to normal, Twich added "The plan is when everything is wrapping up to nail that to the front entrance of the mine, maybe hang some tasteful banners from the local managing noble as well to add a tasteful dab of color to the horrible defiled and mutilated bodies of the dwarves at the mine; Really drive home the message of what a human 'eviction' means." | Name:
Twich
Physical Form:
Abilities:
Smarter then thou: What Twich lacks in physical strength and size, he makes up for with a cruel cunning, a twisted intellect and a surprisingly strong will.
Alchemist Training: There are only two things that an alchemist needs to be able to do in order to be a good alchemist; The ability to flip a table and be on the other side of it when what they are working on explodes and the ability to know exactly when to do this. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
If you don't want to eat it just because it has some mold growing on it, hand it over.: Twich is a kobold. They can eat just about anything regardless of how rotten its become just fine without ill effect. They are also immune to horrible smells that would make others sick.
Love the BOOM!: There is something about arson and explosions that just appeals to Twich's soul. The fact that he is very good at creating things that explode and set things on fire makes his inner hatchling very happy.
WHY?! FOR SCIENCE!: Twich doesn't always create or tamper with things to make them explode or catch fire (At least, not as the end goal). Often he likes to create concoctions or perform experiments for a large number of reasons, more often then not because he felt like it or just wants to see if the current theory in his head has any basis in reality.
Personality:
Those who meet Twich would surprisingly discover that he is, above everything else, quite civil. Those above or greater then him will get the recognition that they deserve of course but those of equal and even lower standing will be treated with professional, polite conversation when talking with Twich. They will also quickly discover that he is quite 'mad'; His mind seems to operate on a completely different wavelength then everyone around him and he often views the world far differently from other people as well.
If one really wants to see him in his prime however, all they need to do is suggest a possible alchemy or science experiment within Twich's hearing range. The quest for discovery and knowledge burns within him brighter then the flames of hell themselves; Despite this he has made it quite clear to several demons that have offered him deals for knowledge and alchemist/scientific discoveries in exchange for his soul that he is not interested because 'That was the path of cowards and fools'.
Even the most evil of beings would find the calm, professional and somewhat detracted approach that Twich takes with his experiments rather... unnerving. Almost all of his experiments are performed on live test subjects... often without their knowledge let alone consent.
Wants/Needs: A bigger lab, more resources and freedom to explore with his various fields of science and alchemy. First pick of any group of slaves and captives with no questions asked as to why he wants/needs them. The right to take any student that he wishes.
Relationships: Fairly civil, shows the needed respect to those that require it.
Backstory: Twich was born to the Snakebiter tribe, a kobold tribe that had its tunnels located underneath a somewhat poisonous swamp. Taken to be trained as an alchemist rather early on when he showed he had a knack for it, Twich rather quickly learned everything that his tribe knew about it and found himself consumed by the desire to learn more. At first traveling to other kobold tribes to study, Twich soon found himself learning from many of the other underworld denizens in exchange for his services; At times he even found teachers among the more open minded of the surface dwelling races. When he ran out of teachers who could offer him new knowledge, Twich wasn't satisfied. He needed to know more and that meant he needed to create more things to learn himself.
This is rather challenging as an independent working alone... but with the raise of the Master and his 'Hordes of Darkness', Twich found a patron who could make his dreams and desires a reality in exchange for his services.
Other: - |
9,547 | 268 | 106 | 1,499 | 991 | The Kitsune planted a sudden, unexpected kiss on Emily's cheek, and then floated away, giggling to itself. They where always mischivious buggers, and the more tails, the more mischief.
"Well, I think I know what you want me for, but, I want you for something as well" She exclaimed, gliding around on some unseen seat, so Emily had to turn to keep her in her vision a lot.
"What do you require? Other than a whole village, and my Empyrean?" Emily asked, rather snappishly, but not to disrespectful.
"Ohh, that was just to get my attention, and you know it. I, want something fun. Kitsunes are physical, unlike most spirits, but we can't stay long in this world, again unlike spirits. But I am young, and adventerious, and can't pass up a new realm for mystery and exploration. So-" The kitsune was cut off by Emily, who had clocked where she was going.
"You want to be hosted. Well, I am not sure I can help. I already have three spirits, and I don't know how much more my body could take before folding in on itself". The Kitsune pouted from being interupted, but it was a playful pout.
"Ohh, I can handle that dear. I'll not take up much room, and keep a lock on my door" She teased. "Or, I could just go back, and give you you little riddle to chew on, either way". Emily thought for a few moments, and then sighed.
"Fine. I don't know how Kits-" Half way through her sentence, Emily was cut off by the Kitsune, probably in revenge, as it dove into her, flesh turning ethereal, and melding with her soul, setting up shop inside her and making some tweeks, by her very nature. One of them tweeks was very obvious, as a pair of foxy ears popped up from her skull. "Ears?!" Emily exclaimed, reaching up to grab them, almost to comfirm their existance. They felt nice, so she let them stay.
'Ohh, before I forget- ' the Kitsune's voice rang in Emily's head, already settled into her room ' - The Smallest sit on His Throne, and use His Blood for their own ends. That's what you came to get in the first place, no?'
Emily knew the riddle was going to be riddly, it wouldn't do for everyone to figure it out so easily, but still, it wasn't making things easy in any shade. | Name: Cold stare
Physical form: Manifestation of 6ft incorporeal image hovering 3 inches off the ground.
Abilities: Necrotizing fasciitis in 3ft diameter when manifested. Moves threw physical barriers. Ghost blade ignores physical barriers, plunged into the living removes the warmth of life. Person actually dies of hypothermia with no physical wound. The air grows cold on his approach and plants wilt only when manifested. Invisible when not manifested. Can be repelled from a area, and blocked from manifesting for 24 hours. Able to see the life force of the living. The dead are invisible, he only sees what he wants to. Has the dead traits of being immune to sleep, poison, death, physical damage, disease, charm, illusion, and additional curses.
Personality: Cold.
Desires/Goals: Driven by the single goal Murdering the human race that let him die in the street. Only in the face of horror do humans find their nobler selves. I will bring them fear as they will never forget.
Back story: Once a champion of the people. This knight of justice fought on their behalf slaying all who would prey on the innocent. No matter the odds this champion would ride forth and right the wrong. Not for king, or queen, but the people. Bandits, thieves, corrupt royalty, cowardly guards, it mattered little to him. Steel was the scales of justice he used to exact forgiveness from the wrong.
After one such crusade against the corrupt band of mercenaries exacting a protection toll (some from the very flesh of the villages youth) in a farming village, this champion put the sword to these villains. Heavily out numbered and taking some cross bow fire he prevailed. Mortally wounded he asked the people for help. The village closed there doors and let him die in the street. The fear they had lived with for so long stayed even after the threat was gone. With his dying breath he cursed, not them but himself for believing that good deeds sowed the seed of fellowship. The villagers later dragged him and the mercenaries to the woods at the edge of town and left them to rot. Years later he arose, from his own death after his body was eaten by scavengers. Cursed to never know peace by his own soul, by the people he devoted his life to protect, by the gods. |
9,548 | 268 | 107 | 304 | 2,137 | By the time they had returned to the village Umbra was no longer in the body of the imp. Deciding shortly before they left that it was much too fragile to take into such a deadly location, and risking a life threatening injury from a host was best avoided.
Once Athinar began barking his orders, the others around him quickly followed, almost enthusiastically. A strange trait to be seen from people such as themselves, then again he wasn’t one to judge. Once he had finally finished though Umbra was left without any hint of orders before Athinar himself began to run off. Being left with little to do, Umbra chose to follow him. Silently shadowing behind and barely keeping up with his speed, a thought that surprised him immensely. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
9,549 | 268 | 108 | 1,449 | 5,930 | ”Duly noted.” Clotho replied to Twitch, shortly before he left her Chamber of Eyes to return to his own quarters. Honestly, Clotho didn't know why the Master had deemed it necessary to employ subterfuge, making it seem as if the humans were responsible for the death and destruction to come. By her estimation, the Horde of Evil was strong enough to withstand the wrath of both neighboring human and dwarf settlements. Even if she was found out, Clotho's bugs constituted only a small part of the Master's forces, and did not directly correlate to the remainder.
Clotho did not, however, in any way wish to defy the Dungeon Keeper. His wish was her command, and if he demanded subterfuge, he would get it.
Phase two of her campaign against the dwarven outpost had begun. This part the swarm queen termed the 'alert phase', when the enemy had discovered the Macula infestation but also realized how pitiful and non-threatening they were. Fortunately, few ever realized that the Macula's enchanted eyes continued to transmit images a few minutes after their death, provided that the eyes themselves hadn't been damaged. One of the organic lens had displayed an image most fascinating to her: the corpse of one Macula had been presenting in a strange chamber to some sort of authority figure. With the Macula in question dead of course, it hadn't gotten a full angle, and the form of this odd being eluded her. Clotho now had an inkling, however, that some other presence was at work within the dwarven outpost. With this just being a hunch, she did not feel the need to share it with Twitch, but all the same made sure that the insectoid forces hidden within the tunnel network were ready to fight. Should a dwarf happen to discover any Myrmidon, Antlion, or Lambent, orders were to kill the dwarf and hide the body. When the proper assault began, the signs of human encroachment could be laid. The various banners and scraps of human paraphernalia were just now, after all, being transported underground to the scene. | Name: Clotho
Physical Form: Clotho is a foot taller than most men, with long arms and legs, and has a chitinous exoskeleton that is a dull brown-maroon in color. Four gossamer rounded wings, transparent green with orange edges, form into a cloak when not in use. Her shell forms into a barbaric-style armor around her shoulders, knees and thighs, gauntlets, and chest. Small spikes line many of the edges of her shell. Her face is crossed with seams, her nose is inhumanly sharp, and her wide mouth is lined with razor-sharp teeth. A shock of black hair more like spines protrudes from the top of her head. Additionally, her eyes are a bright, luminescent green, with layered pupil rings. Instead of hair, two membranous mini-wings protruding from her upper back form into a hood.
Abilities: Clotho's wings grant her the power of flight, which she can perform with almost ludicrous speed and agility. Her insect carapace functions like armor, affording her ample protections. Hidden inside her left forearm is the Stinger, which she can project from her palm for stabbing. The Stinger can inject a variety of toxins into a target, all of which are manufactured chemically within Clotho's own glands. Such toxins include 'poison', 'paralysis', 'mutation', 'subordination', 'blindness', and 'calcification'.
Cloth also has the ability to command bugs and parasites. Aside from conjuring flies, hornets, leeches, worms, and flesh-eating beetles, sometimes in vast swarms, she also controls her own minions in the form of Myrmidons, Lambent, and Antlions. These she orders around via chirp-calls, and she has no true leadership ability.
The true combat ability of Clotho, however, lies in her rapier. With a barbed tip, it can slide into flesh cleanly and eviscerate it on the way out. Its flexible blade allows Clotho to lash the tip around when fighting, cutting and gashing opponents as she opens them up for a thrust. Its deceptive deadliness, couple with Clotho's uncanny speed and notable strength, make it a lethal tool of destruction.
Personality: A certain conflict underlies Clotho's convincing exterior. Deep inside she is still Nona, confused and reticent and immature. This directly disparages with the aged experience of the that melded its soul with hers, whose bloodthirsty monstrosity has guided her thus far as a Keeper. The union of the two distinct spirits produced Clotho, a cunning, intelligent imperialist. Clotho is without conscious barring the distant, faint murmurs of the suppressed girl within her, and will kill without question, though good judgment keeps her from exercising this often. Though self-centered, she is more than willing to make alliances and deals for mutual gain, and will even adhere to them—an behavior unheard of among most such creatures.
Wants/Needs: Clotho lusts for power and control. She wants nothing more than to rise through the ranks of her master and become both his most powerful warrior and most trusted ally. Eventually, Clotho wishes to gain the ability to become a Dungeon Keeper herself, though she does not plan whatsoever on betraying her current master.
Relationships: None
Backstory: Clotho was once human, an urchin of Virens. This premier logging town, situated in the Oerwood Forest north of the Saploya river, was home to over two hundred thousand, but never truly to a girl called Nona. Surviving by her wits and her knack for finding odd jobs, she later became reliant on the family of Theo Rosenstern. Theo, playing the nobleman as well as the romantic, sought to feel better about his own clan's success and gain a girlfriend in the process by hanging out with Nona and helping her get by. Ever in need of aid, Nona accepted, forming an uneasy relationship with the boy while trying to make ends meet. From a young age, the Biomancer's Guild of Virens, responsible for the magical acceleration of conditioning of the city's saplings and crops, had fascinated her, but her own lowly beginnings and ineptitude for magic estranged her from the organization.
It was in this stagnation, during her nineteenth year of a woeful life, that a voice first reached out to her through her dreams. Its whispers, low and meaningless at first, grew in strength as she became more desperate, and finally its message became clear: journey into the jungle and find a special insect. After convincing Theo to accompany her, Nona left in the morning to pursue her dream. Hours later, she arrived in an unpeopled lumber camp miles from the city limits. Upon entering the shack at its center, she beheld a nasty-looking metallic green wasp confined in a jar. In a trance, she seized the jar -totally unresponsive to Theo's urges- and smashed it against the ground, freeing the wasp. Immediately it stung her, injecting into her the ancient soul of an insidious being of darkness—Kafka.
The two minds, girl and monster, melded, and in the process her own body transformed into its current state. Long before the modification finished, Theo took to his heels. That day, Clotho came to be.
From there she imposed herself on the forest, thinking to become a force of darkness. Though the self-appointed Vermin Queen stockpiled quite the retinue of mindless insectoid minions, and gave the nearby towns a great deal of trouble, she never quite lived up to the status of an evil overlord. After a botched attempt to obliterate her former hometown caused an army of avenging townsfolk to converge on her lair, she fled south until she happened to find one of the Overlord's bands. After wiping the plains with them, she sought the Overlord's dungeon, and pledged her service to him without question. |
9,550 | 268 | 109 | 740 | 392 | That Which Consumes Peace looks at Twich for a moment. "I am not very handy with... Paperwork.", the demon sighs on the last word. "However... I know someone who is." The demon of chaos disappears for several moments before reappearing with what would appear to be exactly the king's handwriting and signature. "Done! He Who's Job Is So Boring I Cannot Even Remember His Name got the job done quite well. However I had to give up a steep price for his services... He haggled those 6 orc souls right out of me!" That bursts into gleeful laughter as he pictures the scene that would play out if Shukra ever finds out about his orc's souls being sold. | Name: Emily Kabal, Spirit's Sonnet
Physical Form: Innoculious and cute, Emily is in every way a young human girl that draws little attention and can go wherever she wants to without anyone becoming sucpicious, and anyone who does think to stop Emily gets such a heart melting smile they can't help but let her go on. She has no physical Tell to inform a person there is more than meets the eye, and she wears casual peasant garb which further enhances her ability to slip in wherever and whenever she wants.
Abilities: Magic is Emily's forte, and she fortes brilliantly. There are few human warlocks who could compete with Emily by herself, and she is assisted in her magical talent by four Sung Spirits - a special branch of spirit that can only be summoned by singing, rather than ritual - which pushes her magical prowess far beyond what any mortal could ever dream of. The three spirits she hosts are Storm, Earth and Fire, with an Overseer spirit that watches the other three and posesses talent in their schools. Most of her spells are generic, if powerfully utalized, but the one unique spell she posesses is Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown. It does not exist in this dimension the same way that the rest of her magic does, and so she needs help from her Fire spirit and the Overseer to conjuer it. She creates the physical shell while her spirits fill it with the fire itself. Once that is done, Empyrean; The Fire King's Crown can be used in two differen manners. The first is a singular target, which upon impact incinrates them internally and externally at the same moment, making it effective even against armour or barriers - something to note is that if the target can absorb heat and fire, then they are super-charged by it rather than burned to a cinder. The second is a wide spread attack that causes an extremely hot fire to voraciously spread through the surrounding area, engulfing a small village in moments. The strain, both physically and magically, is considerable so it is not often used. Another rather personal, but not unique, ability is how Emily can use her fire as a sort of Afterburner, and fly through the sky. This is not very subtle, and causes her magics to drain at a constant rate, so she does not use it lightly. The third uncommon ability is her teleporting from Fire to Fire. This requires a pillar of flame to engulf Emily, and then a second Pillar of flame to drop her off. The disadvantage is that it causes disorientation and the second pillar can sometimes not be available.
Aside from magical abilities Emily can - obviously - sing very well, and enjoys simply singing for the thrill of it. She puts this to use summoning her spirits, most commonly Blanks which can posess weak-willed humans or recently dead cadavers and provide Emily with feedback and obidience. With slightly more effort, Emily can bind elemental spirits to herself - or though currently she is at her limit and wants to give her body time to adjust before getting more - and also to beings like Wolves, and Badgers, and Sheep. And humans, but they are usually not so cool and not so plentiful. Emily has a sharp mind as well, able to create a plan in a few moments and chain together her three magical elements, creating a combo that is able to take out massive creatures, well confident of their own abilities before they came face to face with this young girl. Physically, she is of a standard teenagers strength and durability, so she avoids close combat.
A final, and rather unknown power, is Emily's ability to percieve Magic. When it is being used, how much, and also the strength of the person she is looking at. This gives her a clear advantage over other magic users, since it allows her to see what theyr are about to use, and work around it. This technique turns her eyes pure gold, and drains her power at a constant rate, so extended useage is unadvisable.
Wants/Needs: While Emily is happy serving Master in every way, she does have a long-term goal to summon and bind Spitfire, The Fire King, Nike, The Earth King, and Minami, the Storm King.
Relationships: Other than her devotion to the Master, Emily fits in well with all kind of Spirits, so she is often found in the company of Umbra and Narza.
Backstory: Emily is a Homonculus, an artifically created Human, and the first sucess in a string of failures that created useless, deformed monstrosities. She was created with magical power in mind, so the creation process sacrificed the strength most artificals could posess in return for a much deeper magical pool. Some think that she does not have a soul because she was created, but that is a falicy, since even Homonculi need souls to exist. She was pushed, magically, to increase her power, and get stronger until a point where she could handle Sung Spirits inhabiting her. She summoned her first, a spirit of Fire, and after a few months of training and control, summoned even more spirits until she had the total of four she has now.
Other: ((Anything else that you want to mention?)) |
9,551 | 268 | 110 | 538 | 2,678 | Kalgrin, Dwarven Colony
The Macula stared on at the door, its eyes seemingly vacant. Lurking in the shadows, the bug was nearly invisible. That was, until a servant paying no heed to her steps almost tripped over the oversized bug. With a scream, she fell backwards onto the cold stone floor of the tunnels and scrabbled away. The food and ale that she had carried on a platter spilled everywhere, though it was not that the insect seemed interested in. Lifelessly as ever, it simply stared.
A guard quickly arrived, and seeing the Macula, dispatched of the bug easily enough. Holding his grip on the dagger that he had plunged into the Macula's carapace, Urist examined the disgusting thing. Foul juices had squirted out of it, he realized with some revulsion. Using the dagger stuck in it as a handle, he opened the door that the servant had headed towards. Through that door was the Guildmaster's office and quarters. Their Guildmaster was many things: he was the one who tracked their profits, maintained the books on their population and wealth, traded with the caravans, and served as liaison to the Mountainhome. Beyond that, he was their employer, their mayor, their godfather of sorts, but most importantly the de facto leader of their little colony.
It was to him that they went to ask what was to be done about the recent state of affairs. Several of the deep-miners had gone missing (though there had been no sound of collapse and a few of those that went to search for them went missing themselves) and an infestation of the strange Macula, to boot.
"Is that you, Urist?" the elderly Guildmaster asked, his vision failing him even in the cheerfully lit office. "You may approach. What is it? Word of the missing miners?"
Urist brandished the Macula skewered on his dagger and brought it closer for the Guildmaster to examine. He tried to no avail to not have the dead bug drip its juices onto the floor. "No, Master. It is these strange..." Urist suddenly stopped at a loss for words, but then found his tongue, "...These strange bugs. These things. We don't know where they came from, but they're everywhere. They don't seem to hurt anything or eat our food, but there's something funny about their eyes. They just stare."
As if to prove his point, the freshly slain Macula continued to gaze with its empty eyes, looking straight at the troubled face of the Guildmaster. There was then a knock on the door before another three of Urist's fellow guards came in, carrying crates full of the dead bugs. One of them spoke, "You found another one on the way, Urist?" Looking at the thing on Urist's dagger with contempt, that guard then turned to the Guildmaster. "Master, these bugs are everywhere. Even more troubling is the geomancer. While he was prospecting, he said that he thought he sensed other tunnels near our mineshafts. Tunnels that we didn't dig."
The Guildmaster scratched his head. "Maybe those bugs burrowed their way inside our home? Or maybe the missing miners made those tunnels? Could just be another cavern." The Guildmaster took off his spectacle and cleaned it as he often did when troubled.
Knowing that the other would have no answer to his questions, he thought the circumstances over for a moment before coming to a decision. At last the Guildmaster said, "I don't know what's going on, but I don't like it. Keep the colony on high alert. Make sure that the tunnels to the surface are thoroughly closed, the traps are set, and the watchers are in place. And no more small search parties; I want three groups of ten good men to go down into the deep mines. Miners and guards, both. Find out if the prospector was right about new tunnels appearing, and if he was, find out what in the stone is going on."
The dwarves scurried out of the room to obey their orders. The Guildmaster turned towards the freshly slain Macula once again, and compared it to the others. All of their eyes now looked glazed over. That was funny, he could have sworn that the first one had been looking at him funny throughout the whole conversation. Perhaps he was just losing his mind along with his vision...
Meanwhile, at the human village
As Cold Stare and Balothiss suddenly descended upon the town, followed shortly after by Athinar and any at his heels, all hell quickly broke loose. Screams rang out as many were taken unaware and slain by Cold Stare, and in the chaos a few oil lamps were dropped. They broke and what started as a few small fires quickly grew into a raging fire, while Balothiss charged straight to the burning buildings and began killing the villagers nearby. The Overlord, back in the Dungeon, watched that with some amount of displeasure. He wanted most of those people alive, but then again, a few dead ones would be fine. It would be interesting to see how Athinar handled this, if he even handled it. His authority and impression were rapidly being eroded while one of those under his command flagrantly disobeyed orders by attacking the civilians.
In any case, the fire and screams quickly caught the attention of those within the center of the city. The fires already in the city and screams coming from numerous directions now, the defenders assumed that their pallisade was already breached. Rather than charge to the walls to fight, their best chance would be to group up in the town's center and then go to where they would be best placed, to save as many lives as possible.
Any guard that wasn't within sight of one of the attackers would begin to run down the dusky roads towards the town square. The sorcerers inside the Temple spilled out as well, in addition to perhaps twenty or thirty of the men at arms that had been stationed in the town's barracks. They all looked to the manor, where the knight that lorded over this village lived. That knight was currently hurriedly searching for his enchanted sword and armor, though once his already awake squire helped him into that, he would be out in a minute and ready to rally the defenders and lead the charge through the streets. | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,552 | 268 | 111 | 1,809 | 47 | Xallihion will watch from his throne as thirty of the Dwarves begin to descend into the mine tunnels through the orb of energy in his hand, It looks like these insects are having an effect on their pitiful minds. His fingers will close around the orb, shattering the magic as he stands up and walks over to a stone shelf along the right side of the small chamber, where two rolled up scrolls made of paper rest next to a polished thigh bone, the entire length of the bone has been carved with tiny runes and symbols in the language of Xallihion's race and a decent sized purple crystal set into the end of the bone where the hip would attach.
As Xallihion picks up the bone from the shelf, a small part of his power will reach out and touch the center of the crystal, bringing the power stored inside to life. Good, the power is still full. If these dirty Dwarves are going to bother to come all the way down here, then it is the least I can do to welcome them. Xallihion's four tentacles will move quickly as he thinks of the insects that are all over the tunnels and their far away master, The master of those pests will need to be tested, and harshly, for making the Dwarves raise their guard. But now I have the chance of getting better and more slaves.
Xallihion will place the bone wand into a holster he has on his right hip and will pick up the scrolls to place them in a small scroll case on his left hip as his mind reaches out to the five slaves already under his command, Slaves, prepare for guests. With his preparations complete, Xallihion will join the five dwarven slaves and will prepare the tunnel that the Dwarves are coming down with spells and runes to eat away at the minds of any that walk near them. At the farthest point from where the Dwarves are coming from, Xallihion will have his slaves hide in ambush, with Xallihion hiding farher back in a small alcove that would allow him to only be seen when he wants to be seen. Good thing I am very patient. | Name: Xallihion
Standing at 6' 3, Xallihion has a frail body and is obviously more used to pouring over a tome than manual labor.
Abilities: Xallihion uses Telepathy to communicate with those within a 100 feet radius around himself, as his natural mouth is incapable of producing speech and has very good night vision as his race lives deep in the earth where there is no light. Xallihion's powerful mind also allows him to rip the will from those who are not mentally strong or to send out a wave that can mentally stun those caught in it for a few seconds. Xallihion has spent most of his life studying magic, learning to kill his enemies from afar so that he doesn't have to get his own hands dirty. Xallihion prefers to use pure Force magic when he fights his enemies, though setting them on fire with a Fireball or encasing them in ice with a Frostbolt is also a favored tactic.
Personality: Xallihion keeps his emotions out of the equation and uses cold logic to make his plans and execute them to the greatest effect. When it comes down to it, Xallihion prefers to use cat's paws and minions/slaves to carry out his plans and to keep his own hands from having to get dirty.
Wants/Needs: Xallihion's whole goal is to acquire power and any knowledge of magic that he can
Relationships: Has no feelings one way or another about anyone (subject to change if someone keeps messing with his plans or is deemed to be a useful lackey/scape goat)
Backstory: Xallihion's race has long been hidden deep within the earth, rulers of the land where light has never touched. Holding a middle rank amoungst his people, Xallihion began a quest for power that would end up consuming his world. Xallihion was lured to the surface by his constant search for knowledge and power, with this quest eventually bringing him into contact with the Dungeon Keeper. Upon meeting this powerful creature, Xallihion quickly offered his serves in exchange for knowledge and power.
Other: - |
9,553 | 268 | 112 | 1,499 | 991 | He did not notice the flames around him. He did not hear the pleas for mercy. He emerged inside the building from the flame engulfed wall. The chill was no match for a wall of fire. The skin of those trapped inside began to rot as he approached. Not sure if the heat which affected his rage or perhapse it was the frantic praying he had encountered by some of the peasants. The blade he wielded slowed its attack. Cold stare lifted his blade and with a single thrust watched the old mans eyes roll upward into his head. Every soul in that inferno died before the fire could reach them.
As the building collapsed from the fire damage out walked the shadow of a knight. Through the flames it moved silently across the street. Oblivious to the archers shooting at his form. He pushed his form through the wall of another building where stood. There was no innocence to this form, no compassion to destroy. This form standing in front of "cold stare" was pure..... | Name: Cold stare
Physical form: Manifestation of 6ft incorporeal image hovering 3 inches off the ground.
Abilities: Necrotizing fasciitis in 3ft diameter when manifested. Moves threw physical barriers. Ghost blade ignores physical barriers, plunged into the living removes the warmth of life. Person actually dies of hypothermia with no physical wound. The air grows cold on his approach and plants wilt only when manifested. Invisible when not manifested. Can be repelled from a area, and blocked from manifesting for 24 hours. Able to see the life force of the living. The dead are invisible, he only sees what he wants to. Has the dead traits of being immune to sleep, poison, death, physical damage, disease, charm, illusion, and additional curses.
Personality: Cold.
Desires/Goals: Driven by the single goal Murdering the human race that let him die in the street. Only in the face of horror do humans find their nobler selves. I will bring them fear as they will never forget.
Back story: Once a champion of the people. This knight of justice fought on their behalf slaying all who would prey on the innocent. No matter the odds this champion would ride forth and right the wrong. Not for king, or queen, but the people. Bandits, thieves, corrupt royalty, cowardly guards, it mattered little to him. Steel was the scales of justice he used to exact forgiveness from the wrong.
After one such crusade against the corrupt band of mercenaries exacting a protection toll (some from the very flesh of the villages youth) in a farming village, this champion put the sword to these villains. Heavily out numbered and taking some cross bow fire he prevailed. Mortally wounded he asked the people for help. The village closed there doors and let him die in the street. The fear they had lived with for so long stayed even after the threat was gone. With his dying breath he cursed, not them but himself for believing that good deeds sowed the seed of fellowship. The villagers later dragged him and the mercenaries to the woods at the edge of town and left them to rot. Years later he arose, from his own death after his body was eaten by scavengers. Cursed to never know peace by his own soul, by the people he devoted his life to protect, by the gods. |
9,554 | 268 | 113 | 304 | 2,137 | When Balothiss felt another presence behind him he turned around to see the "cold stare" standing behind him, Balothiss sneered at him.
"What are you looking at"
Balothiss said as he pulled arrows out of a nook in his armour as if they were nothing at all, but he looked at the fool who stared at him, who was analysing him as if Balothiss was a bug.
"Shouldn't we focus on the mission and not me?"
He asked with a little defensiveness in his voice.
"I will tell you that I am a murderer and a thief but I never deserved what punishment that I was bestowed with!"
And Balothiss heaved his sword to his back but did not leave the presence of the person in front of him letting him know that he was not intimidated by him or at the very least afraid of him.
"I find sport in death only because it lets my anger free and I may forget the past and enjoy combat"
Balothiss smiled at "cold stare" and said amusedly.
"Now the death of dwarves I enjoy and the sport of the kill is a thrill I can not give up!"
He left and fast at that weaving in and out of the fray of now apparent guards that began to flow into the village and he cleaved his way through each guard that either got in his way or approached him with readied weapons or intent to kill and those who cowered at his onslaught were trampled or hit to the side. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
9,555 | 268 | 114 | 351 | 2,364 | Taking a moment to review the final piece of work to ensure that it had been worth the bartered price, Twich nodded his approval before looking back at That Which Consumes Peace. "Good. Check in on Clotho to get an update on what's happening with the Dwarves and then use your own judgement when you should be going in. If this goes well we won't even need to sacrifice your two guys; Before you start selecting your new agents through do keep in mind that the Master wanted his share of prisoners and he is already somewhat displeased with you. Consider this a chance to get into the Master's good graces... And if you are successful at that, he won't really care if you take a few extra dwarves for your own proposes... And if you do a really good job, you might be able to talk him into putting you in charge of whatever group Shukra is on next mission he sends us out on..."
It was a large prize to dangle in front of the demon... thing and Twich knew it. The Kobold knew full well that Shukra and That Which Consumes Peace were at odds with each other and the chance for the demon to be able to lord a higher status in the status quo over the tiger and rub that fact in his face would be mighty tempting... the resentment and infighting such a situation would cause would only make the chance to claim it even harder to resist. "Try to keep any prisoners you take in the upper mine. The lower mine is going to have a very bad day..."
Regardless of That Which Consume's Peace decision on what to do, Twich focused his efforts on his brewing. The first cauldron was filled and more or less ready, only needing one more addition before the otherwise harmless liquid inside started to bellow a highly toxic smoke; That would be added once they arrived at the site, since doing so in a closed room was a highly stupid idea. Having the lid of the cauldron clamped tightly shut, some Imps were going to have to be recruited to carry the thing to ensure arrive. Working on the second cauldron, Twich knew that two would have to do. They wouldn't have the time to create a third and the whole point was to render the lower mine shafts highly dangerous to living things.
Hopefully the explosives the Master wanted them to retrieve were stored in the upper shafts... If not, Clotho's bugs seemed disposable. | Name:
Twich
Physical Form:
Abilities:
Smarter then thou: What Twich lacks in physical strength and size, he makes up for with a cruel cunning, a twisted intellect and a surprisingly strong will.
Alchemist Training: There are only two things that an alchemist needs to be able to do in order to be a good alchemist; The ability to flip a table and be on the other side of it when what they are working on explodes and the ability to know exactly when to do this. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
If you don't want to eat it just because it has some mold growing on it, hand it over.: Twich is a kobold. They can eat just about anything regardless of how rotten its become just fine without ill effect. They are also immune to horrible smells that would make others sick.
Love the BOOM!: There is something about arson and explosions that just appeals to Twich's soul. The fact that he is very good at creating things that explode and set things on fire makes his inner hatchling very happy.
WHY?! FOR SCIENCE!: Twich doesn't always create or tamper with things to make them explode or catch fire (At least, not as the end goal). Often he likes to create concoctions or perform experiments for a large number of reasons, more often then not because he felt like it or just wants to see if the current theory in his head has any basis in reality.
Personality:
Those who meet Twich would surprisingly discover that he is, above everything else, quite civil. Those above or greater then him will get the recognition that they deserve of course but those of equal and even lower standing will be treated with professional, polite conversation when talking with Twich. They will also quickly discover that he is quite 'mad'; His mind seems to operate on a completely different wavelength then everyone around him and he often views the world far differently from other people as well.
If one really wants to see him in his prime however, all they need to do is suggest a possible alchemy or science experiment within Twich's hearing range. The quest for discovery and knowledge burns within him brighter then the flames of hell themselves; Despite this he has made it quite clear to several demons that have offered him deals for knowledge and alchemist/scientific discoveries in exchange for his soul that he is not interested because 'That was the path of cowards and fools'.
Even the most evil of beings would find the calm, professional and somewhat detracted approach that Twich takes with his experiments rather... unnerving. Almost all of his experiments are performed on live test subjects... often without their knowledge let alone consent.
Wants/Needs: A bigger lab, more resources and freedom to explore with his various fields of science and alchemy. First pick of any group of slaves and captives with no questions asked as to why he wants/needs them. The right to take any student that he wishes.
Relationships: Fairly civil, shows the needed respect to those that require it.
Backstory: Twich was born to the Snakebiter tribe, a kobold tribe that had its tunnels located underneath a somewhat poisonous swamp. Taken to be trained as an alchemist rather early on when he showed he had a knack for it, Twich rather quickly learned everything that his tribe knew about it and found himself consumed by the desire to learn more. At first traveling to other kobold tribes to study, Twich soon found himself learning from many of the other underworld denizens in exchange for his services; At times he even found teachers among the more open minded of the surface dwelling races. When he ran out of teachers who could offer him new knowledge, Twich wasn't satisfied. He needed to know more and that meant he needed to create more things to learn himself.
This is rather challenging as an independent working alone... but with the raise of the Master and his 'Hordes of Darkness', Twich found a patron who could make his dreams and desires a reality in exchange for his services.
Other: - |
9,556 | 268 | 115 | 1,449 | 5,930 | The keen, verdant eyes of Clotho missed little. She beheld the greater rate by which the Macula lenses were dimmed, the owners of the linked eyes killed. The face of the old guildmaster, hardened in focus and concentration, hinting at some sort of action. By the swarm queen's calculations, the Alert Phase was nearing its end, and the next stage of her invasion would begin: Incursion phase. To be able to continue building up into an unstoppable force, the marauders would need to go on the defensive for a little while. Clotho held up her hands and issued a shrieking cry. All at once, the links connecting the Macula to the Chamber of Eyes severed, and the whole room went dark. In the dwarven outpost, the sentry bugs felt a light sting, and new from their conditioning that it was time to withdraw. En masse, the Macula began to disperse, hiding underground or simply leaving. ”It is time I took the field,” she said, and made a mental note to develop a portable link to the Macula—a sort of organic monocular, linkable to her own systems. Then she left, zooming through the dungeon until she reached the tunnels that now linked it to the dwarven village, and through them she rushed, only stopping at her alchemist's to pick up a prototype serum.
She soon found herself in a cavern beneath the outpost, heavily occupied by her own forces. The already-damp chamber, floored in some places with subterranean lake and lined with various fungus, now played home to several newly-formed Lambent hives and sported the distinctive mess characteristic of Myrmidon dens. A web of passages branched off from this cavern in nearly every direction, burrowed by the Antlions. Already, some of the surviving Macula had made their way here, but from her spying Clotho got the sense that other forces were inbound as well. At her arrival, the entirety of her arthropod swarm ceased their activities to give her their attention.
“Three Antlions. Ten Lambent. Come with me.”
Before long, the dwarven expedition was incoming. The slaves of Xallihion were not the only thing lying in ambush. When they entered the lower tunnels, they became aware of a near-constant shaking, one that seemed to be near them but never amounted to anything harmful. Determined to discover the source of the Macula infestation and new tunnels, they searched the mines for some time, split into three groups of ten as instructed. One of the parties wandered, while another chanced to head toward where Xallihion and his band lay in wait. Another mined through a thin barrier of rock and breached the tunnels made by the Antlions. Scarcely had that squad entered the unfamiliar terrain when behind them blossomed eruptions of yellow fire. Above their heads whirred a small swarm of giant fireflies, the Lambent. So occupied were the dwarves with the fliers who'd cut off their escape, that they did not notice the increasing rumbling until the ground collapsed beneath their feet, courtesy of the Antlions following them. Those dwarves not buried in the cave-in were incinerated by fire, all save for one.
The sole survivor clambered out of the pit, breathing ragged and covered in lacerations and contusions. With a mighty effort and a pained groan, he rolled onto the solid rock, and only after a few seconds noticed the being standing over him. His first instinct was to yell, but the silent, monstrous woman stood stock-still but for her eyes. The dwarf could not help but feel that he was being examined by those bright green eyes, his every secret laid bare. He panted as he stared at her, defiant. When he went to speak, however, Clotho extended her stinger from her left palm and stuck it in one of his cuts.
Immediately, her prototype toxin went to work. It snaked its way through his bloodstream and into his brain, where it began to coagulate. The chemical cocktail gnawed into the neurons and obstructed the synapses, putting him into an acute trance resembling hypnosis. Clotho spoke to him in a low, soft tone, “In a few moments, you will begin your trip back to your commander. You will tell him nothing about me or the insects you encountered. Instead, tell him that a cave-in killed your friends, which alike the new tunnels are the product of unusual seismic activity. You will do this with your full, normal level of intelligence and language, forgetting anything unusual ever happened.” The alchemist had warned her that this version of the serum was unstable, and would start to collapse within a day, leading to probable brain damage and a comatose state. ”When your mind starts to rot, end yourself quickly and painlessly, leaving behind evidence of depression. Go.”
Clotho watched the wounded dwarf hobble off, feeling small strains of pity for him. She enjoyed having power over others, but not causing them pain. The fate she'd woven for this unfortunate, brave soul was a terrible one. Sighing, she flew through the aperture and into the dwarven tunnels, sneaking cautiously through them to see if there were any other dwarves. | Name: Clotho
Physical Form: Clotho is a foot taller than most men, with long arms and legs, and has a chitinous exoskeleton that is a dull brown-maroon in color. Four gossamer rounded wings, transparent green with orange edges, form into a cloak when not in use. Her shell forms into a barbaric-style armor around her shoulders, knees and thighs, gauntlets, and chest. Small spikes line many of the edges of her shell. Her face is crossed with seams, her nose is inhumanly sharp, and her wide mouth is lined with razor-sharp teeth. A shock of black hair more like spines protrudes from the top of her head. Additionally, her eyes are a bright, luminescent green, with layered pupil rings. Instead of hair, two membranous mini-wings protruding from her upper back form into a hood.
Abilities: Clotho's wings grant her the power of flight, which she can perform with almost ludicrous speed and agility. Her insect carapace functions like armor, affording her ample protections. Hidden inside her left forearm is the Stinger, which she can project from her palm for stabbing. The Stinger can inject a variety of toxins into a target, all of which are manufactured chemically within Clotho's own glands. Such toxins include 'poison', 'paralysis', 'mutation', 'subordination', 'blindness', and 'calcification'.
Cloth also has the ability to command bugs and parasites. Aside from conjuring flies, hornets, leeches, worms, and flesh-eating beetles, sometimes in vast swarms, she also controls her own minions in the form of Myrmidons, Lambent, and Antlions. These she orders around via chirp-calls, and she has no true leadership ability.
The true combat ability of Clotho, however, lies in her rapier. With a barbed tip, it can slide into flesh cleanly and eviscerate it on the way out. Its flexible blade allows Clotho to lash the tip around when fighting, cutting and gashing opponents as she opens them up for a thrust. Its deceptive deadliness, couple with Clotho's uncanny speed and notable strength, make it a lethal tool of destruction.
Personality: A certain conflict underlies Clotho's convincing exterior. Deep inside she is still Nona, confused and reticent and immature. This directly disparages with the aged experience of the that melded its soul with hers, whose bloodthirsty monstrosity has guided her thus far as a Keeper. The union of the two distinct spirits produced Clotho, a cunning, intelligent imperialist. Clotho is without conscious barring the distant, faint murmurs of the suppressed girl within her, and will kill without question, though good judgment keeps her from exercising this often. Though self-centered, she is more than willing to make alliances and deals for mutual gain, and will even adhere to them—an behavior unheard of among most such creatures.
Wants/Needs: Clotho lusts for power and control. She wants nothing more than to rise through the ranks of her master and become both his most powerful warrior and most trusted ally. Eventually, Clotho wishes to gain the ability to become a Dungeon Keeper herself, though she does not plan whatsoever on betraying her current master.
Relationships: None
Backstory: Clotho was once human, an urchin of Virens. This premier logging town, situated in the Oerwood Forest north of the Saploya river, was home to over two hundred thousand, but never truly to a girl called Nona. Surviving by her wits and her knack for finding odd jobs, she later became reliant on the family of Theo Rosenstern. Theo, playing the nobleman as well as the romantic, sought to feel better about his own clan's success and gain a girlfriend in the process by hanging out with Nona and helping her get by. Ever in need of aid, Nona accepted, forming an uneasy relationship with the boy while trying to make ends meet. From a young age, the Biomancer's Guild of Virens, responsible for the magical acceleration of conditioning of the city's saplings and crops, had fascinated her, but her own lowly beginnings and ineptitude for magic estranged her from the organization.
It was in this stagnation, during her nineteenth year of a woeful life, that a voice first reached out to her through her dreams. Its whispers, low and meaningless at first, grew in strength as she became more desperate, and finally its message became clear: journey into the jungle and find a special insect. After convincing Theo to accompany her, Nona left in the morning to pursue her dream. Hours later, she arrived in an unpeopled lumber camp miles from the city limits. Upon entering the shack at its center, she beheld a nasty-looking metallic green wasp confined in a jar. In a trance, she seized the jar -totally unresponsive to Theo's urges- and smashed it against the ground, freeing the wasp. Immediately it stung her, injecting into her the ancient soul of an insidious being of darkness—Kafka.
The two minds, girl and monster, melded, and in the process her own body transformed into its current state. Long before the modification finished, Theo took to his heels. That day, Clotho came to be.
From there she imposed herself on the forest, thinking to become a force of darkness. Though the self-appointed Vermin Queen stockpiled quite the retinue of mindless insectoid minions, and gave the nearby towns a great deal of trouble, she never quite lived up to the status of an evil overlord. After a botched attempt to obliterate her former hometown caused an army of avenging townsfolk to converge on her lair, she fled south until she happened to find one of the Overlord's bands. After wiping the plains with them, she sought the Overlord's dungeon, and pledged her service to him without question. |
9,557 | 268 | 116 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens had been lying in wait patiently when he saw in the sky over the rim of his ditch rising smoke lit by fires from below against the night sky. He scrambled up to see that a fire had already broken out in the town. Getting to his feet, he cursed and said "How dare they start burning things without me!"
Torrens waited for no further signal. The battle had started. Either the signal had gone out long ago and missed him, or someone had jumped the gun and shattered the carefully arranged plan. And looking around at the distinct lack of chaos outside the village, it must have been the latter. Wasting no more time, Torrens burst into the farmhouse he had been assigned and chucked a fireball into the center of the main room. The fire burst and spread across the floor, filling the room with fire instantly, including one man who was sleeping in that room. Burning alive, he woke up instantly, although he failed to stay conscious for long enough to leave the room. It was not long before the screams and crying of a woman and three children could be heard from adjoining rooms, as the mother evidently was evidently trying to gather the children and get them to safety. She at last came into the main room, to discover her husband immolated and a red demonic human figure standing in the middle of the fires. One step towards the woman was all that it took to make her flee.
Grinning devilishly, Torrens followed the family outside. He needed to direct them to the town, to raise a new alarm or something. Considering that they were surrounded by flammable farmlands and orchards, this would be a trivial task. Torrens lobbed a fireball ahead of them, which erupted on impact with the ground and set the surrounding trees on fire, redirecting them. He ran ahead and released from his arm a long tongue of flame, turning a field of corn into a wall of fire, redirecting them again. Satisfied with their direction this time, he let them be and approached Shukra, who, with his army of 50 orcs behind him, was not hard to find.
"Shukra! Someone's got excited and jumped the gun on our plan," he called out, "If we want to have any hope of drawing any useful attention, we're going to have to advance on the town, now. I'll open the way for you."
Torrens turned towards the town and sprinted up to it, heading through the field he had set alight earlier in order to soak up some of its thermal energy. As he approached the gate, two guardsmen were still watching out, and had seen him coming from ages away so their crossbows were ready. When he came within range, they aimed and fired. Torrens strafed one bolt, but the other struck him in the abdomen. However, rather than piercing, as it would for a form of flesh, it simply bent and bounced off, accompanied by a bright flash of heat from the point of impact. While they were hastily reloading, Torrens pointed out his fingers at one guard like a gun and unleashed a bolt of fire, which struck the guard just below the neck yet above his chestplate, delivering a mortal wound and throwing him backwards. Torrens was about to do the same as the other when he remembered the purpose behind his charge, so he changed at the last moment from a high-velocity fire bolt aimed at the guard to a slower fireball aimed at where the guard was standing. Sensibly, the guard jumped from his post to avoid the flames and fled into the town to search for reinforcements.
With the opposition removed, Torrens approached the wooden gates and palisade. While he could have burned straight through it, that would have been somewhat slow and would only leave a hole large enough for him to get through. So, instead, he climbed over the palisade. While the wood burned and turned to ash almost instantly at his touch, he climbed fast enough to get over the top and inside. Once there, he burned the mechanisms holding the gates shut and with a push the gate swung open. Already, the gate and the adjacent palisades were on fire, but since they were thick it would take a few hours for them to burn through completely, although it should take less than that for the bindings to collapse and fall apart.
With the way open for Shukra's orcs, Torrens went into the town to search out the defenders and join the fray, or maybe even draw some of the defenders away from his allies. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,558 | 268 | 117 | 1,512 | 202 | Maybe Torrens was discovered? I'll go ahead and see what's happening. Narza calls out to Athinar as she slips through the sturdy wooden palisade walls and floats off toward the rising smoke in the midst of the town. Flying high into the sky, she is able to make out columns of smoke rising from a central building in the town, and smaller fires in the vicinity, with small figures streaming out of the center building. If these were the guards that her groups was supposed to assassinate, it wouldn't do to have them spreading out across the city.
The shortest path between two points was a line. Unobstructed by any obstacles, Narza went from street to street and alley to alley, forming thick walls of us to block off the guards. While she seemingly placed the walls at random around the guardhouse, she left the street leading to Athinar's gate clear, with all offshoots sealed off. She hoped that with a street clear, the guards would just flock down that street instead of trying to break down walls. | Name: Narza (unable to remember her last name)
Physical Form:
Chimeric Specter
Narza is an amalgamation of a wide variety of souls, brought about by a somewhat mediocre dark mage named Derrik. The dark mage combined, a few dozen tormented human souls, the soul of an innocent young human girl, freshly killed to serve as the catalyst, and three different Elementals, one of Wind, one of Water, and one of Darkness. Dreaming of power and infamy, Derrik aimed to create a fearsome tri-element familiar and make his familiar’s personality more easily controlled by using a young girl’s soul as the base. While the dark mage succeeded in fusing the souls, one of his more mediocre points showed in his binding abilities.
The chimeric spirit broke free and consumed the dark mage the split-second after it was born. Because the chimeric spirit hadn’t settled and solidified, it ended up absorbing the dark mage into its core, giving it some of the abilities of the dark mage as well. A battle for dominance over the soul ensued. The dark mage, already weakened by the fusion process, was unanimously dealt with by the other souls. The elementals fell next, overwhelmed by the many insane human souls. With the elementals gone, the tormented souls fell upon each other, tearing each other apart in mindless agony. In the end, only the soul of the young girl, added most recently (aside from the dark mage), was left intact. Her name was Narza.
Magic and Abilities:
Invisibility (turn invisible, simple for a ghost)
Incorporeal Form (she actually can’t touch things if she tried, currently)
Soul Steal (steal a target’s soul, works better on weaker and weakened targets)
Devour soul (grow stronger by consuming a soul, stronger souls are more difficult to consume but are worth more. Slightly increases her magical power.)
Possess Husk(take control of a soulless body. Allows Narza to take a physical form and use that body’s magic at a fraction of its strength. She can’t preserve its health until stronger.)
Elemental Affinity for Water/Ice
Elemental Affinity for Wind/Air
Flight (ghosts can naturally fly)
Resistant to poison (How would you poison a ghost?)
Soul Sense (Sense souls around Narza, souls have to be sensed before they can be interacted with afterall)
Soul Replacement (put a soul back into a soulless body.)
Locked: (until more souls are eaten and she grows stronger)
Soul Scour (rip apart a soul for information. Narza can learn a magic if she rips apart enough souls that know that magic. Also aids in digestion.)
Corporeal Form (become solid, taking any appearance)
Elemental Affinity for Darkness
Soul Fusion (combine stolen souls.)
Lightning (subtype of Wind/Air)
Weaknesses:
Fire/Heat
Earth
Holy/Light Magic
Sanctified ground/equipment
Holy Water (somewhat nullified by Water/Ice Affinity)
Due to Narza’s Wind/Water/Darkness affinity and spirit body, she’s doubly vulnerable to light and heat. She also can’t pass through the ground like normal ghosts until she’s stronger. Additionally, Narza cannot learn any magic of opposing elements. Has no skill with weapons.
Personality: Innocent, naive, and terribly hateful. Has the personality of a young girl, the ambition of a failed dark mage, and the hatred and anger of many dozens of tormented souls. As a former twelve-year old, Narza little knowledge of the world save for the bits absorbed from her shredded inhabitants, but is curious and sharp. She’s also spiteful and mischievous, with little moral direction even without factoring in the dark mage in her. When the malice of the tormented souls wrests free of her control as they will from time to time, she’ll seemingly lose her temper without warning. Occasionally, she will ask you for your soul out of the blue when her hunger gets to be too much.
Wants/Needs: Souls, especially magical ones or those of mages.
Relationships: Likes to hang out with fellow spirits such as Narza and Umbra.
Backstory: The dark mage Narza consumed left behind a slight sense of loyalty and responsibility to the Dungeon Keeper, so she asked to serve as well, and was accepted. She has inherited the Derrik's possessions, which are:
Basic clothing: Musty dark mage robes, all black and nefarious-looking. And smelling. Narza wouldn't wear them even if she could. (Not that she floats around naked, mind you. She wears what she wore when she died (but will be able to change that later.))
Basic alchemy set
Alchemy ingredient shelf, poorly stocked (previous owner wasn't big on alchemy)
Ritual circle, high-class but defective (Since Narza was able to break free)
Enchanted storage ring, low level, holding dust, empty alchemy flasks, and dirty clothing (has a capacity space of two square meters)
Basic elemental spell tomes: A beginner's guide to Fire Magic, A beginner's guide to Water Magic, A beginner's guide to Wind Magic, A beginner's guide to Earth Magic, A beginner's guide to Dark Magic (laying in a disorderly pile on the floor.)
Arlog's Thesis on soul-binding - Abridged version (another tome
Binding and Sealing - All you need to take a Familiar (Well leafed magic tome, and frozen solid)
Enchanted dagger, for rituals and self-defense. (Never dulls, and is sharper and tougher than normal. Holds a sinister miasma since it has been immersed in dark magic and taken the lives of many innocents in cold blood. Nothing special though.)
Scrying orb of low quality (See distant locations, but only from far away, or a specific location, but must have been there before.)
Staff of Darkness (An enchanted length of wood that make using dark magic slightly easier. Even a level One mage would start with better gear than this.
Mana-recovery trinkets (Barely worth wearing, and also too gaudy.)
Various spell books (all shelved, that Narza can't get to yet since she isn't corporeal. )
Enchanted treasure chest (enchanted to resist weather effects and only open to the owner, holding a mix of souls from different races)
Other: Would be classified as an Assassin/Mage I suppose. Will do anything for a soul. |
9,559 | 268 | 118 | 215 | 1,683 | Athinar's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the city. Smoke and flame from the front gate, screams of terror within. Athinar wouldn't have thought it odd for Torrens or Shukra to have jumped the gun, but they both knew better. Most likely, it was some lesser minion who had found his way in, and had begun the attack early. Still, he didn't mind Narza taking the initiative in this case. The little ghost had proven herself useful, and that would be appreciated. Nodding, Athinar swung aroung, looking back at his group. "Everyone! They know we're here! No need for stealth, now. We can slaughter the guards, but we need to kill the sorcerers first."
Sprinting towards the thick wooden gates, the huge man drew back a fist, and leaping at the portal, punched them apart, knocking them to either side, and shattering the crossbeam, landed amongst unconsious guards and scattered splinters of wood.
Absentmindedly stomping on a guard's windpipe, dispatching the civic defender, Athinar looked down the long street. Narza had blocked off quite a few streets, leading the guards to him in a straight line. Snarling like a wolf in pleasure, he bounded along the path, howling as the first few guards came into his vision. The guards, 15 in number, were taken aback as they saw this... beast of a man, and halted their forward movement, stumbling. He capitalized on this, and slid forward, twisting his right foot up in a high kick, snapping their leader's neck. Stepping back, Athinar, fell into Rock Style, waiting for the smaller group to approach. This should be fun. | Name: Athinar Gol-Gaia
Physical Form:
Tall, well-muscled, and stable, he is the pinnacle of physical perfection, even by the standards of some who would call themselves 'Immortal'. He is 6'8", and weighs at 300 pounds, in his normal form.
In his alternate form, he gains a sentient sword, and a set of armor which is actually part of him. In this form, sometimes his face is visible, but more often than not, he keeps his mask on. He is 7'0" even, and weighs 450 pounds.
Abilities:
Normal Form / Carnage Form - Athinar has decided to forgo magic that affects others, in favor of a magic that supplements his already impressive strength. His Carnage Form is a shell, which looks like armor, but actually is a super-dense exoskeleton. While in this form, he is significantly slower, but is immensely more powerful in terms of strength and defense.
Summon: Carnage Blade - Athinar has the ability to summon his Carnage blade at any time, however it is smaller and less impressive when he's not in Carnage form, although it still is alive, and speaks to him. The blade's name is Requiem. what the sword looks like, except with glowing red runes down the middle.
(Normal Form - Rock Style) Blood Palm - Athinar uses the blood spilled by anyone, including his own, in a fight, to empower his fist's attack.
Martial Arts - Athinar was trained in three forms of martial arts by the monks. However, he is only the equivalent of a black belt in one, and slightly competent in the others.
(Skilled)Rock Style - Athinar stays solid, and in place, for the most part. He uses his fists, elbows, and occasionally trips the enemy, but tries to keep his feet steady. For if he can, not much in the terms of human force can move him, but if anyone has trained in Windstance (or was strong enough), they could move him through sheer momentum and weight transfer.
(Beginner)The Path of the Cyclone - Not so much a martial art as a series of moves, executed one after the other, this unarmed style is used to fight large groups of enemies. There are twelve moves altogether, in three groups. However, Athinar was only taught the first group, and cannot continue the momentum of the Path.
- Leaping Tornado: Athinar lunges forward, landing among his enemies.
- Unseen Tempest: Athinar waits three seconds for enemies to close in, ready to strike.
- Stormblade: Athinar ducks down beneath a man's weapon, and elbows him in the chest/neck area.
- Cyclone Kick: Athinar does a roundhouse kick, tripping all surrounding enemies.
However, these are usually poorly executed, due to lack of training.
(Beginner) Celestial Mirage - This is possibly the martial art that he's learned that he has the most trouble with. It is a kick-based martial art, one that forces you to maintain patience. It's attacks come in bursts, to draw the enemy out, and allow the student to analyze the situation. However bad Athinar is with this, it was still one of the arts he learned from the monks, and he views it as a useful, albeit F*CKING INFURIATING skill.
Personality: Athinar gets intense pleasure from seeing other creature's blood. No matter the circumstances, or whether he is allied with them or not. When he is not getting excited by bloodlust, he is usually a very calm, collected individual, who is quite intelligent, surprisingly. When blood is near, he turns into a vicious man, taking pleasure in drawing blood, tasting it, etc. Afterwards, he is, shall we say, *ahem* easily excitable. If you know what I mean. However, this doesn't mean that he's not smart. He is extremely smart, in his bloodlust, and will be able to craft plans on the fly, if they end in violence and killing.
Relationships:
Emily- Thinks that the homunculus is beneath his attention, generally, unless she does something big and shiny.
That Which Consumes Peace- A fool, disobeying the Boss, but made a nice save, getting Shukra mildly punished.
Ekushka- Hasn't met her yet.
Narza- Is quite fond of the little ghost, curretly.
Shukra- A pompous ass who fails at commanding.
Darkwraith Kor- A good fighter, like Athinar, who shares his bloodlust. Enjoys his company.
Azavarn- Too flamboyant.
Umbra/Christopher- Thinks that Christopher is a bit off, but doesn't know why.
Torrens- Doesn't have any opinion of him, but thinks that a fire demon might be useful.
Clotho- Has a strange fixation on Clotho's chitin.
Twitch- Has disdain for the ratty, well, twitchy kobold. Maybe if he actually did something, he might be useful.
Backstory: Athinar is the reincarnated form of an ex-Dungeon Keeper, banished from his former world, and born to a new life in this one. However, he don't remember shit, and the only benefits were the impressive physical abilities you see today. He was born to an order of monks, who trained him in every combat style, unarmed and armed. However, this revealed his darker secret, his love for shedding blood. Killing them all, he was guided by a voice in his head, who told him that if he joined with him, he'd get to kill, kill, and keep killing. So he met up with the Dungeon Keeper, and started killing.
Other: If Athinar seems too powerful, remember that he was converted to the Dungeon Keeper's cause by him just saying that he could kill people if he joined him. He's not dumb, but he does have quite the one-track-mind, and is quite susceptible to manipulation, in both forms. Like, REALLY susceptible. A novice hypnotist could put him to sleep. |
9,560 | 268 | 119 | 304 | 2,137 | Balothiss realized that the onslaught had begun and he had taken out a good amount of guards that surrounded him and he was getting a little hurt until he burnt them all into crisps.
He squinted down the street to see guards walking out of view and then start pushing back slightly for he saw a large beast man taking at least fifteen on in battle and taking almost all of them out one by one.
Balothiss grunted amusedly at 'Cold stare' and pointed at the guards being mauled by a beast man. He felt a lone guard trying to strike him with his sword, Balothiss just punched the man out instead of killing him.
He motioned 'Cold stare' to follow him and this time Balothiss, taking the patience to also ambush other guards began approaching from alley ways and whatever other routes he could find, until he got an idea.
Balothiss looked around as he reached an alley where he could see that there was a large amount of Orcs on the way with Torrens ready for action marching their way into town and a larger portion of guards being ambushed by the others, he looked around to see if there were any ladders in the vicinity and he found none so he began climbing a building which was not very tall.
Once he appeared over the top on the roof he saw a few archers positioning themselves so they could snipe the intruders.
Before they even had time to exclaim their surprise Balothiss had thrown one archer off the roof and to the ground to his death the other two tried to run, one slipped and fell of the roof into the group of guards and last one shot him in the shoulder.
The arrow punctured his flesh and he howled in pain but Balothiss pushed the arrow out of his shoulder leaving a small wound which bled over him and Balothiss held it as he grabbed the last archer by the neck and stabbed the man with his own arrow in the neck, and then dropped the archer off the building.
Balothiss grabbed a piece of cloth that had been ripped off an archers tunic,it was quite a large piece and he wrapped it around his shoulder from underneath his armpit.
Once he had finished patching up he stood and took a look around seeing that things were progressing and he looked down and now only a couple dozen guards were trying to march towards the action.
Balothiss waited until the first person had walked past him and he began dashing fire balls at guards on the ground and that caused a bit of confusion in the guards ranks they dived off into merchant stands and carts and some unlucky enough to be hit by the fire ball were cooked in their armour or died because someone dropped their sword and he threw some more fire at them as he began to worry when the towns mages or sorcerers would begin to aid in the defence of the village. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
9,561 | 268 | 120 | 1,499 | 991 | This town had done something to incur this munch wrath from so many dark entities. The large figure would lead cold stare to where he was needed. Munch like a virus followed a blood cell to the organ it was familiar with. He followed. All around this figure of retribution people died. Some of the guards dared to show themselves. "Foolish." he thought to himself. His sword took there life and there body heat. A long sword strike appeared out of his chest to no avail. Adjusting his grip the shadow of man thrusted his own sword into his own image. The resulting scream was cut short as the blade found a home in the would be heroes throat. Onward the death of men would follow. This was truly a forsaken town. | Name: Cold stare
Physical form: Manifestation of 6ft incorporeal image hovering 3 inches off the ground.
Abilities: Necrotizing fasciitis in 3ft diameter when manifested. Moves threw physical barriers. Ghost blade ignores physical barriers, plunged into the living removes the warmth of life. Person actually dies of hypothermia with no physical wound. The air grows cold on his approach and plants wilt only when manifested. Invisible when not manifested. Can be repelled from a area, and blocked from manifesting for 24 hours. Able to see the life force of the living. The dead are invisible, he only sees what he wants to. Has the dead traits of being immune to sleep, poison, death, physical damage, disease, charm, illusion, and additional curses.
Personality: Cold.
Desires/Goals: Driven by the single goal Murdering the human race that let him die in the street. Only in the face of horror do humans find their nobler selves. I will bring them fear as they will never forget.
Back story: Once a champion of the people. This knight of justice fought on their behalf slaying all who would prey on the innocent. No matter the odds this champion would ride forth and right the wrong. Not for king, or queen, but the people. Bandits, thieves, corrupt royalty, cowardly guards, it mattered little to him. Steel was the scales of justice he used to exact forgiveness from the wrong.
After one such crusade against the corrupt band of mercenaries exacting a protection toll (some from the very flesh of the villages youth) in a farming village, this champion put the sword to these villains. Heavily out numbered and taking some cross bow fire he prevailed. Mortally wounded he asked the people for help. The village closed there doors and let him die in the street. The fear they had lived with for so long stayed even after the threat was gone. With his dying breath he cursed, not them but himself for believing that good deeds sowed the seed of fellowship. The villagers later dragged him and the mercenaries to the woods at the edge of town and left them to rot. Years later he arose, from his own death after his body was eaten by scavengers. Cursed to never know peace by his own soul, by the people he devoted his life to protect, by the gods. |
9,562 | 268 | 121 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens, hearing the clamour and noise of battle in the streets ahead, jogged through the alleyways until he was near, at which point he hauled himself up onto a carefully selected stone roof in order to get a better view. In the streets he could see skirmishes with the Keeper's minions, headed by Athinar, against small clusters of guards. But in the town center the town's garrison assembling, preparing to march as a coherent unit through the attackers, backed by their powerful sorcerer priests. If they were allowed to advance in force, then severe casualties would likely be suffered on their side. Granted, a collection of Rogue Beings this size was a force to be reckoned with, but there was no sense in simply hurling themselves at an armed and ready mesh of spears, shields and magic. They needed to be broken up.
Torrens looked up and saw on another rooftop the half-giant dark knight which he recognised as Balothiss, hurling fireballs into defenders below. Torrens gave him a wave and nod of recognition, and jumped back down into the alleyways.
It was not long before he was in position. He had taken the backstreets to flank the main guard force. He discovered that many of the side streets had been blocked by walls of ice, an obvious effort to control the movements of the guards. Now Torrens was beside the column, near the sorcerer priests, with nothing but a wall of frozen water separating them. Acknowledging the need for speed, he braced himself and stepped bodily into the ice wall, vaporising it, and then spewed forth enough fire to engulf the entire block of sorcerers. Such an attack would have surely taken them by surprise, and may have incapacitated a good portion of them, but these sorcerers of fire and water were perfectly equipped to counter such an attack as well. As such, Torrens was not surprised to see that many of the sorcerer priests had managed to cast appropriate shields before they received any severe injury. In fact, that was part of his plan.
Quick as he came, Torrens darted back into the alleyway and dived around a corner just in time to avoid a barrage of water bolts from the water priests. He clambered to his feet, unharmed from having dived into solid cobblestones, and shot a few fire bolts around the corner at the priests. He did not expect them to hit, for the priests had ample ability to deflect such attacks. Instead, he hoped to splinter the group.
If some of the priests break off to go after him, he'd fall back, providing token resistance, and lead them away from the group. If some of the guards are sent, he would go back far enough to not be under fire from the priests, fight them, then return. If no-one took the bait, he would just keep shooting, either forcing them to deal with him or distracting the spellcasters enough so they can't help the guards. Really, he was hoping a group of priests would break off to deal with him, although it was entirely possible that this main column was too well disciplined to do such a thing. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,563 | 268 | 122 | 538 | 2,678 | Inside the Deepest Mines of Kalgrin, a Dwarven Colony
The sudden sound of a cave-in, complete with harrowing screams and what sounded like insectoid chirping obviously caught the attention of the other two dwarven groups down below. Just as one rounded a corner to where Xallihion and his thralls were in wait, they spun around to come to their brethrens' aid. As they did so, the backs of all ten dwarves were turned to Xallihion and the ambushers. There would only be an instant before they were back around the corner and out of that chamber, but if Xallihion and his dwarves seized the moment they would take their enemies by complete surprise and from behind, no less. So surely their ambush would make short work of the search party, but of course that's assuming that they act quickly enough.
Meanwhile, the other ten meandering through the tunnels also heard the commotion. The stone tunnels were deathly silent and echoed well, after all. Fortunately, that would mean that the sound of pounding footsteps would alert to Clotho to the impending arrival of even more dwarves. Stumbling into the lone survivor who was on his way back up to the main halls, they were told that it was only a cave-in. Yet there was clearly something not right...
A mere collapse did not explain all of the sounds that they had heard, and how often was it that dwarven miners caused cave-ins, anyways? The strange look in that one's eyes was also suspicious, but it was the sudden smell of burnt flesh that was the most damning piece of evidence. The dwarves all drew their weapons, eyes nervously looking down the tunnel that the survivor had emerged from. After a short argument, they decided to leave the survivor unaided for a few moments as they went to investigate the 'cave-in'.
Meanwhile, at the human village
Upon seeing Athinar charging down the one street that hadn't suddenly become blocked by walls that appeared of thin air, some of the guards had moved to block him. Of course, the first few soldiers to approach were quickly mauled by the savage. As those nearest to him stumbled backwards and away, a figure that had hanged back came forward: clothed in extravagant blue robes, she was clearly one of the local priestesses to Unda, and surely a powerful sorceress. She raised a fist high into the eye whilst muttering some prayer to the water goddess, and the ground beneath her feet began to grow wet as she summoned water from deep below.
Then there was suddenly a flash of orange and a fiery explosion, then another, and then another. Her eyes darted to the rooftops to see Balothiss as he rained down fireballs on those below. The guards that were struck by the magical flames howled, boiling alive within their own melting armor. Shrieking for vengeance, she pulled up several globs of water from the growing pool at her feet. They levitated next to her for a few moments, then froze into icy spikes and flew towards Balothiss like bullets.
Suddenly, she brought up both hands. Rather than a mere glob of water, an entire pool now hanged in the air above her head. Shouting once more, she threw her arms forward and the mass of water surged forward. With a horrific boom it smashed into the stone building and washed over it before freezing solid. Perhaps Balothiss and Cold Stare could have dodged it if they jumped off the rooftop, but staying there would mean being encased in a block of ice.
As one of the last few guards pushed her aside, fleeing back to the town square, she spun around to look at Athinar. Before that brute could get to her, she intended to have him choking on the ground. Leaping back to put more distance between herself and him, she pointed a finger at his chest. At first nothing seemed to happen, small tufts of smoke just seemed to waft from Athinar's chest. But she did not use fire magic and that was no smoke. The vapor steaming off his body was his sweat as it rapidly evaporated, but even once the sweat covering Athinar had all gone, the steam continued. More water was being pulled out of his body by his magic, and soon enough the blood would come pouring out as well as he was rapidly dried out. Athinar had best get out of her line of sight or otherwise interrupt her spell, else he would quickly find himself too dehydrated and weak to even stand.
Back in the town square, Torrens' attacks had caught everyone's attention. A mob of guards broke off and moved to charge the alley where their attacker cowered, but a quick cry stopped them. One of the High Priests advanced forwards, telling the others that they needed to stay in the square and await their lord. He would face the fiery monster alone.
Perhaps Torrens had noticed this man, his status made clear with magnificent silk robes worthy of any noble. Indeed, when Torrens had first popped out this mage had thought him some sort of elemental and shouted out an incantation in an unsuccessful attempt to banish him from this world. But then again, in the chaos of the short skirmish Torrens might not have noticed.
In any case, that lone priest ran towards Torrens' alley. The fire demon would soon find himself face to face with a powerful sorcerer, though undoubtedly not one that he had expected: this man was a High Priest of Caldor! His magic invoked the flames and warmth; not the ice and water that Torrens feared. But if the fire demon underestimated him, that would prove a grave mistake. Whispering a prayer to mighty Caldor, Fiery Lord of Justice and Conquest, that priest found the bravery to round the corner mere inches away from Torrens. The priest could feel the demons' heat even from there, but it was nothing like the heat of Caldor that already emanated from the priest's heart. This man would not be so easily burnt, at least not by normal flames. Caldors' blessing would allow him to be wreathed in holy flames and come out unharmed. Torrens would have to find another way to defeat him.
Quite accurately guessing Torrens' nature, the High Priest had determined that his best chance of defeating this adversary would be to drain him of all eat. For that end, as soon as he saw Torrens he would try to manipulate the heat within the demon's body and pull it outwards. Perhaps the resulting explosion of fire would destroy a nearby building or two, but in the man's mind that was a small price to pay to rid the world of such evil.
Meanwhile, one of the walls summoned by Narza suddenly exploded as a great warrior slammed his fist into it and reduced it to splinters. Leaping over the rubble came a great knight, clad in armor that shone bright not from polish but by the magical enchantments that had been imbued within it. With that magical armor and a great sword and shield to match, he looked every part a holy champion of men. The knight ran into the middle of the town square. "To me, to me!" the knight cried out to the defenders, for he was lord of this town. Granted, being bombarded by Torrens just a moment ago after being suddenly boxed in by walls had left the defenders panicking, but they would soon be rallied unless someone else created even more chaos or tried to take the village's lord out of the picture. | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,564 | 268 | 123 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens was somewhat surprised at first that only one sorcerer was sent against him, but as soon as he felt a magical force attempt to drain his power he knew that they had thought this one through. The sorcerer would find that not all of Torrens' energy could be extracted at once (which is probably just as well, considering how much damage it could do), but he could sharply increase the rate of heat loss from Torrens. The consequences of this on the surroundings was that no liquid water or oil existed near him after less than a second (save for that in the sorcerer), wind hotter than that of a blast furnace rushed through the side streets, and in seconds the stone ground and nearby walls would start melting. This rapid drain was a serious concern for Torrens, as if this continued for too many seconds he would be too weak to fight.
At point blank, Torrens' first move was to go for the face of his opponent, grabbing it with his hand. Normally, this move was fatal against creatures of flesh, but when the sorcerer pulled Torrens' hand away from his face Torrens was shocked to find that there was not so much as a mark where there should have been a horribly melted face. But Torrens was far from a one trick demon and he was very quick on his feet. Perceiving his foe's total immunity to heat, that he had no way to win a simple physical contest in a few seconds, and the desperation of the situation, Torrens shoved him palm up to the priest's chest and channeled dozens of megajoules of thermal energy into the separating millimeters of air in an imperceptible fraction of time.
This energy represented the chemical energy from a whole bag of coal burned in a furnace. Coal has an energy density eight times greater than that of gunpowder, although coal normally releases this energy very slowly. Torrens, however, had no chemical limitations on how quickly he could release that energy. As such, the energy which had originally been in a bag of coal was now released in a manner akin to a detonating barrel of gunpowder, or perhaps an even more violent explosive, at point blank to a human. While the explosion would also harm himself, he should fare much better than the creature of flesh before him. And if by some miracle the explosion didn't tear the priest in half, or rupture his internal organs (and, considering this is a priest, miracles aren't out of the question), then at least he should be stunned long enough to give Torrens some time to find the upper hand. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,565 | 268 | 124 | 304 | 2,137 | Balothiss was normal at one point then he was frozen the next he felt the cold getting to him it should have killed him but he was too angry to die to a spell so weak compared to his ability to cast his innate magic.
He felt the ice around him grow warm as he summoned fire balls but they merely looked like heat signatures in the dark on the ice and as the ice began melting he began putting more effort into the flames which turned from just orange red to fiery blue with a hint of yellow as his head freed from the ice he bellowed loudly with anger and he looked around to see 'Cold stare' stuck in ice as well.
It took him about 10 minutes to free himself from his icy tomb but Balothiss was determined not to die at any cost and he surely would not die at the hands of the blue robed person who froze him.
Balothiss started melting areas and he began trying to free 'Cold stare' making sure to try and not burn him with the fire that he summoned.
Once he freed him Balothiss looked at him and said with annoyance and rage.
"I am not pleased at all by this blue robed person who froze us I want to tear the bastard limb by limb and burn the coward to death in his final moments of breath!"
Balothiss huffed and his eyes were blood shot and irritated from the melted water that got into his eyes.
"Let's go kill that filthy bastard!"
And with that Balothiss motioned for 'Cold stare' to follow him as he melted his way out of the ice and it took quite a long time but they found themselves out of the ice without trouble at all.
"What do we do now?"
He asked 'Cold stare' who was constantly viewing what he was doing but not at all saying anything to Balothiss.
"What are our options!"
Balothiss asked. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
9,566 | 268 | 125 | 1,499 | 991 | Cold stare was quiet. The ice affected him not in the least he simply stayed in the spot awaiting the other to break free. He saw the one who froze the warrior and the question asked had the same answer Cold stare applied to the dwellers of this village. As a reflex he brought his blade vertically to his hood and then swung it wide in front of him. The fallen defender thought, Evil must spread if they are to learn their lesson. This user of ice definitely stood in the way.
Cold stare advanced in the direction the caster was last seen he ignored obstacles and barriers moving through them. killing cowards who used them to hide. The further he got from the fires the faster his cold aura returned. This night would not be the night for a savior. This was not cold stares night either, it belonged to righteous evil in all its dark purity. He was merely a vessel for the wrong in this world to find expression. Cold stare followed the trail that caster left behind, his warmth of life would be his demise. | Name: Cold stare
Physical form: Manifestation of 6ft incorporeal image hovering 3 inches off the ground.
Abilities: Necrotizing fasciitis in 3ft diameter when manifested. Moves threw physical barriers. Ghost blade ignores physical barriers, plunged into the living removes the warmth of life. Person actually dies of hypothermia with no physical wound. The air grows cold on his approach and plants wilt only when manifested. Invisible when not manifested. Can be repelled from a area, and blocked from manifesting for 24 hours. Able to see the life force of the living. The dead are invisible, he only sees what he wants to. Has the dead traits of being immune to sleep, poison, death, physical damage, disease, charm, illusion, and additional curses.
Personality: Cold.
Desires/Goals: Driven by the single goal Murdering the human race that let him die in the street. Only in the face of horror do humans find their nobler selves. I will bring them fear as they will never forget.
Back story: Once a champion of the people. This knight of justice fought on their behalf slaying all who would prey on the innocent. No matter the odds this champion would ride forth and right the wrong. Not for king, or queen, but the people. Bandits, thieves, corrupt royalty, cowardly guards, it mattered little to him. Steel was the scales of justice he used to exact forgiveness from the wrong.
After one such crusade against the corrupt band of mercenaries exacting a protection toll (some from the very flesh of the villages youth) in a farming village, this champion put the sword to these villains. Heavily out numbered and taking some cross bow fire he prevailed. Mortally wounded he asked the people for help. The village closed there doors and let him die in the street. The fear they had lived with for so long stayed even after the threat was gone. With his dying breath he cursed, not them but himself for believing that good deeds sowed the seed of fellowship. The villagers later dragged him and the mercenaries to the woods at the edge of town and left them to rot. Years later he arose, from his own death after his body was eaten by scavengers. Cursed to never know peace by his own soul, by the people he devoted his life to protect, by the gods. |
9,567 | 268 | 126 | 304 | 2,137 | Balothiss followed close behind Cold stare who didn't answer his question verbally but he did it through action and the answer was 'Kill' and Balothiss smiled as he ran behind Cold stare.
He cleaved his sword from his left to his right cutting down anywho jumped in his way Balothiss was painted in blood and he had a determined look on his face a deep frown as he followed along behind Cold stare who was hacking down guards and focusing keenly on the caster with murderous intent in his eyes.
Cold stare wanted to kill the caster as much as he did so he followed along minding his surroundings making sure he would be ready if he was going to be surprised by an opponent and he was careful to keep a close eye out for other spellcasters. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
9,568 | 268 | 127 | 1,809 | 47 | Xallihion will immediately attack the second the Dwarves turn their backs to the ambushers, his mental command ringing in the minds of his slaves, Kill them. With a drawing of power and a single wave of his hand, Spectral Tentacles will erupt from the walls of the tunnel, blocking the Dwarves retreat and even snaring two of the unlucky Dwarves, crushing and ripping their bodies apart as the rest of the Dwarven patrol freezes in place. At the same time, Xallihion's five slaves will rush out and charge down the tunnel towards the Dwarves, their mining picks at the ready as they close in on the patrol. The patrol will turn in time to see them and most will be able to respond to the sudden attack from the slaves by drawing their weapons.
Xallihion's mental voice will ring out, loud enough to be heard by all in the tunnel, You are mine now slaves. Bow before your new Master. With his powerful mind, Xallihion breaks the weak mental barriers that most of the patrol have around their minds, with five of the Dwarves dropping to the ground as he rips their will from them. The slaves show their worth by holding the remaining three Dwarves busy, but they suffer terrible wounds in doing so. Drawing his wand, Xallihion will point it at the remaining members of the patrol and will activate its power, launching a barrage of six arrows of pure force at them. The arrows speed down the tunnel unerringly as they slam two at a time into the three Dwarves, blowing large holes into them and quickly killing them.
Stand up Slaves, your Master demands it. The five Dwarves that Xallihion ripped the will from begin twitching before standing up and standing there, their faces blank as they await their new master's orders. Gather anything of use, weapons and armor, for it seems that someone has begun to finally play the Game. Walking past the new Slaves, Xallihion will dispel the Spectral Tentacles from the tunnel, waiting just long nough for his slaves, wounded or not, to quickly scavage the corpses and form up behind him. Let us go see what this new player has brought to the Game, and with that, Xallihion will lead his force down the tunnel excitement beginning to rise from inside his cold calculating heart. | Name: Xallihion
Standing at 6' 3, Xallihion has a frail body and is obviously more used to pouring over a tome than manual labor.
Abilities: Xallihion uses Telepathy to communicate with those within a 100 feet radius around himself, as his natural mouth is incapable of producing speech and has very good night vision as his race lives deep in the earth where there is no light. Xallihion's powerful mind also allows him to rip the will from those who are not mentally strong or to send out a wave that can mentally stun those caught in it for a few seconds. Xallihion has spent most of his life studying magic, learning to kill his enemies from afar so that he doesn't have to get his own hands dirty. Xallihion prefers to use pure Force magic when he fights his enemies, though setting them on fire with a Fireball or encasing them in ice with a Frostbolt is also a favored tactic.
Personality: Xallihion keeps his emotions out of the equation and uses cold logic to make his plans and execute them to the greatest effect. When it comes down to it, Xallihion prefers to use cat's paws and minions/slaves to carry out his plans and to keep his own hands from having to get dirty.
Wants/Needs: Xallihion's whole goal is to acquire power and any knowledge of magic that he can
Relationships: Has no feelings one way or another about anyone (subject to change if someone keeps messing with his plans or is deemed to be a useful lackey/scape goat)
Backstory: Xallihion's race has long been hidden deep within the earth, rulers of the land where light has never touched. Holding a middle rank amoungst his people, Xallihion began a quest for power that would end up consuming his world. Xallihion was lured to the surface by his constant search for knowledge and power, with this quest eventually bringing him into contact with the Dungeon Keeper. Upon meeting this powerful creature, Xallihion quickly offered his serves in exchange for knowledge and power.
Other: - |
9,569 | 268 | 128 | 215 | 1,683 | As the sorceress was abandoned by her guards, Athinar kept moving forward, breaking the fleeing ranks of men like so much water upon a stone. Then, the street before the sorceress and himself was suddenly clear for the nine meters ahead. Sprinting across the gap, Athinar had halved the distance, when she turned her attention back to the massive fighter, pointing at him. Immediately, Athinar knew that she had cast some kind of spell. A hex. Dehydration. It'll make me shrivel up, and then make my blood escape. Athinar paused, cocking his head. Where had that come from? (Anyone with soul sensing abilities would be able to feel the pressure from Athinar.) Shaking his head like a dog, he began to run forward, only to be forced to stop in his tracks, and fall to his knees. He started gasping, his lungs now dry. Head pounding, tinges of black fading into his vision.
Would he be stopped like this, by a puny mage? No! Roaring with rage, even through the dehydration, time seemed to stop, and the borders of the world seemed to liquefy, like quicksilver. A dark mist poured out through the surrounding alleyways, and swirled around Athinar. Circling him, as if studying him, the mist spoke.
So... you don't want to die here?
Athinar said nothing, because he couldn't move. The mist flew closer, until it was in his face.
I suppose I could help you out a bit.
As the mist faded, and time seemed to flow, a black, featureless figure waved at the edges of his vision, ominously.
We'll be in touch.
And then with a snap, time returned. Athinar stood up fully, without the feeling of being choked. Looking down at himself, steam still rose from his body, but it stopped almost instantly. In his hands, was a black, guardless, hand-and-a half sword, one that had several dull runes engraved into the blade. It was about half a foot wide, and three feet long. Curious, Athinar waved it around a bit. It was weightless. Curious. Shrugging, and cracking his neck, he grinned. Whatever happened, it had rendered the sorceress' spell ineffective.
Pouncing towards the priestess, he cut horizontally, chopping the woman in half. Her torso flew upwards, spraying beautiful blood, and her legs stayed standing, spurting like a geyser. The look on the woman's face was that of extreme surprise and terror, at which Athinar began laughing madly, baying like an animal. Looking around at the other guards, he saw some knight in shining armor. Literally. Growling, he sprinted, holding the sword easily. If anyone got in his way, he would barrel through them, shoving them out of the way.
(Note: Anyone who was in position to see the mist come out from the surrounding alleyways, would only see smoke pour out, and in a cyclone, turn into the blade in Athinar's hands. It happened almost too quickly to see, so if you were distracted, you would've missed it. Narza would have felt an immense power, unstoppable by herself, pass through the walls of 'us'.) | Name: Athinar Gol-Gaia
Physical Form:
Tall, well-muscled, and stable, he is the pinnacle of physical perfection, even by the standards of some who would call themselves 'Immortal'. He is 6'8", and weighs at 300 pounds, in his normal form.
In his alternate form, he gains a sentient sword, and a set of armor which is actually part of him. In this form, sometimes his face is visible, but more often than not, he keeps his mask on. He is 7'0" even, and weighs 450 pounds.
Abilities:
Normal Form / Carnage Form - Athinar has decided to forgo magic that affects others, in favor of a magic that supplements his already impressive strength. His Carnage Form is a shell, which looks like armor, but actually is a super-dense exoskeleton. While in this form, he is significantly slower, but is immensely more powerful in terms of strength and defense.
Summon: Carnage Blade - Athinar has the ability to summon his Carnage blade at any time, however it is smaller and less impressive when he's not in Carnage form, although it still is alive, and speaks to him. The blade's name is Requiem. what the sword looks like, except with glowing red runes down the middle.
(Normal Form - Rock Style) Blood Palm - Athinar uses the blood spilled by anyone, including his own, in a fight, to empower his fist's attack.
Martial Arts - Athinar was trained in three forms of martial arts by the monks. However, he is only the equivalent of a black belt in one, and slightly competent in the others.
(Skilled)Rock Style - Athinar stays solid, and in place, for the most part. He uses his fists, elbows, and occasionally trips the enemy, but tries to keep his feet steady. For if he can, not much in the terms of human force can move him, but if anyone has trained in Windstance (or was strong enough), they could move him through sheer momentum and weight transfer.
(Beginner)The Path of the Cyclone - Not so much a martial art as a series of moves, executed one after the other, this unarmed style is used to fight large groups of enemies. There are twelve moves altogether, in three groups. However, Athinar was only taught the first group, and cannot continue the momentum of the Path.
- Leaping Tornado: Athinar lunges forward, landing among his enemies.
- Unseen Tempest: Athinar waits three seconds for enemies to close in, ready to strike.
- Stormblade: Athinar ducks down beneath a man's weapon, and elbows him in the chest/neck area.
- Cyclone Kick: Athinar does a roundhouse kick, tripping all surrounding enemies.
However, these are usually poorly executed, due to lack of training.
(Beginner) Celestial Mirage - This is possibly the martial art that he's learned that he has the most trouble with. It is a kick-based martial art, one that forces you to maintain patience. It's attacks come in bursts, to draw the enemy out, and allow the student to analyze the situation. However bad Athinar is with this, it was still one of the arts he learned from the monks, and he views it as a useful, albeit F*CKING INFURIATING skill.
Personality: Athinar gets intense pleasure from seeing other creature's blood. No matter the circumstances, or whether he is allied with them or not. When he is not getting excited by bloodlust, he is usually a very calm, collected individual, who is quite intelligent, surprisingly. When blood is near, he turns into a vicious man, taking pleasure in drawing blood, tasting it, etc. Afterwards, he is, shall we say, *ahem* easily excitable. If you know what I mean. However, this doesn't mean that he's not smart. He is extremely smart, in his bloodlust, and will be able to craft plans on the fly, if they end in violence and killing.
Relationships:
Emily- Thinks that the homunculus is beneath his attention, generally, unless she does something big and shiny.
That Which Consumes Peace- A fool, disobeying the Boss, but made a nice save, getting Shukra mildly punished.
Ekushka- Hasn't met her yet.
Narza- Is quite fond of the little ghost, curretly.
Shukra- A pompous ass who fails at commanding.
Darkwraith Kor- A good fighter, like Athinar, who shares his bloodlust. Enjoys his company.
Azavarn- Too flamboyant.
Umbra/Christopher- Thinks that Christopher is a bit off, but doesn't know why.
Torrens- Doesn't have any opinion of him, but thinks that a fire demon might be useful.
Clotho- Has a strange fixation on Clotho's chitin.
Twitch- Has disdain for the ratty, well, twitchy kobold. Maybe if he actually did something, he might be useful.
Backstory: Athinar is the reincarnated form of an ex-Dungeon Keeper, banished from his former world, and born to a new life in this one. However, he don't remember shit, and the only benefits were the impressive physical abilities you see today. He was born to an order of monks, who trained him in every combat style, unarmed and armed. However, this revealed his darker secret, his love for shedding blood. Killing them all, he was guided by a voice in his head, who told him that if he joined with him, he'd get to kill, kill, and keep killing. So he met up with the Dungeon Keeper, and started killing.
Other: If Athinar seems too powerful, remember that he was converted to the Dungeon Keeper's cause by him just saying that he could kill people if he joined him. He's not dumb, but he does have quite the one-track-mind, and is quite susceptible to manipulation, in both forms. Like, REALLY susceptible. A novice hypnotist could put him to sleep. |
9,570 | 268 | 129 | 1,270 | 2,337 | The days had gone well enough for the two adventurers, Putting a kind inquest with others for their 'missing' companions they were still waiting in town for. The town was known as 'Mossgate' for the thick stone walls covered in the green growth that seemed to never stay off no matter what, dozens of bards had dozens of tales why the moss would grow so abundantly and they had heard them all. The big walls lead to archer towers which would make for difficulty with the few hundred guards of the few thousand inside meant that at least one in ten could fight with true knights to call in for guidance and reinforcements.
After barking around for long enough, he managed to get directed to the tower that housed the mage guild. He made a bargain with them to try and combine the heat enchantment of the dagger and the reflective spell of the shield in order to make a new enchantment to reflect fire. IF they could make that for him, he would let them keep the three magic items he brought with him. He also had a chance to recharge his wand on his arm from all the mounts he had been summoning. Tinkerhell was quite crucial in getting the wizards to comply with his requests and maintain their silence.
Next he went to the mapmakers to get the most detailed layout of the city possible, down to the spaces between stores. He took that map and had four perfect copies made measured out to the inch. Those three copies found their ways into the hands of best woodcarvers in the city, each tasked with taking a quarter of the town to make little buildings for a scale model with enough detail that he could pour water down the street and watch it trickle between alleys. None of this was cheep, but you would be amazed how easily the simplest charming spells and a sack of gold does wonders to put one at the top of the list of projects.
Wizards and warriors can protect the city, but it is the temple that protects the faith. Here is where tinkethell would falter if she were truly unholy and not just wholly amoral. Gossip and rumor were the meal of the day as the two took turns twisting every word from any mouth on either side to something worse. The seeds of distrust got planted to water in the temple of the sea and fan the fires of their goddes while the order of light was founding themselves in righteous indignation at perceived sleights.
All in all it was going well when the trouble of faith means that one in ten at temple was a warrior on the wall. | Name:
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher, "The Dashing Bastard"
Physical Form: "I put the gore in gorgeous!"
6'6" and 300 of tight body tone. Unarmored, he has a score of scars running him over from a decade in the arenas. His eyes are a fine gray with a catlike shimmer of silver in the back.
Abilities:
Curse; The cornerstone of the hexblade, the ability to lay a witches malicious befuddlement upon intended targets. Not an attack in of itself, it is a go-to weakening of the enemy before engaging. He often pairs the curse with a memorized intimidation to follow up and bring most to cower before finishing them off in a single blow.
Resistance; Like a paladin, he can rely on his sheer strength of will to help shrug off attacks to mind body and soul.
Mettle: Those that he cannot avoid, he tries do bear down and endure, taking the lesser of the worlds woes when he has the chance.
Prestidigitation: Because of the hexblade's calling, Octavius' desire to know more about his arcane abilities manifests itself beyond the ability to curse and the he is able to cast minor prestidigitations at will.
(Item) familiar: Where most would bond to a creature from elsewhere for more power, he has strengthened the bond with his sword to a supernatural level.
Aura of unluck: Once per day Octavius can create a baleful aura of misfortune. Any melee or ranged attack made against the hexblade while this aura of unluck is active has a higher miss chance. Activating the aura is a free action, and the aura lasts for a full minute.
Spells: Like a sorcerer, he uses his sheer strength of will to manifest magic in the world. He just severely lacks the dedication most others would possess by this time.
0 Message
0 Dancing lights
0 Mage hand
0 Detect magic
0 Acid splash
0 Distupt undead
1 True strike
1 Shocking grasp
1 Color spray
1 Identify
2 Eagle splendor
2 Flaming sphere
Personality:
Truly Octavius' greatest strength is his overwhelming charisma, wielded as a weapon as much as his sword. He brings it to bear to cow the most stalwart of enemies and draw up the crowds to a screaming frenzy in the arena.
He is a patient man in combat, often letting the others go first before he devastates them.
He had devoted his life to death, Hades specifically, as a way to deal with the loss of his family. But one can only lash out for so long. In time the burn in his hearth grew cold and hollow so he turned to ways to fill the hole, most often drinking and tavern wenches. But in the end he still fell back to his oldest friend, death. Its more of a bad habit than an addiction, but every week he makes his way to some manner of arena to put himself in the ring.
He's smarter than he ever lets on, by no means is he a genius with lifetimes of knowledge. He's just more experienced that he'd like to be in the way the world works. The best thing he always reminds himself 'always assume they are better than you in every way and plan to fail'.
Relationships:
Since his arrival, he has taken a keen interest in Tinkerhel, She might be a nymphomaniac, but he thinks there is a whole lot more going on in her head.
Backstory:
Octavius' tale is not at twisted as many might think. His parents were simple farmers, his grandfather was a retired army officer who was too maimed to bear spear. When his chores were done for the day, his grandfather would train him in a longsword so big the boy needed both hands to wield it.
Suns rose and set for a decade until the boy on cusp of manhood could now wield the longsword in a single hand. But now he was starting to think with the dagger between his knees and had his eye on the girl across the creek. They were promised to each other and their parents agreed to the union. Sadly, the fates have more in mind than a happy farmer.
A merchant cart heavy with goods came to the farm, asking for a night in the barn for a few silver, all was well until the bandits climbed out of crate and pot to slaughter the family. The boy did well by all accounts, with no armor and only a sword older than him to keep himself safe as he killed the bandit leader while the others ran. As he burned the bodies, he was visited by a lady paladin of Hercule and her ancient wizard. One of his first life lessons about the bigger world would be that halflings and dwarves clearly age differently.
She could see he was strong, strong enough to carry her stuff as his squire as he had nothing left for him here, indeed, he had no other ways to go but with them or try his own. He tried to learn magic cantrips from the wizard but had no luck compared to the combat she refined from what his father gave him. She was teaching him how to fight in armor, a skill he lacked, when they came upon a wizard of the dead.
They made their way to the wizards workshop when they came to discover he was just finishing his ritual to litchdom. The paladin took the undead in a full body tackle while the other two destroyed the phylactery, the wizard found it while Octavius shattered the device but it was too late to save her from its evil magic. The magic of the ritual burned its way into him and changed him to his very core.
Other:
His hat he got from a pirate captain to whom he served upon a ship for a year before a monster afflicted her, her hats own bubble of air was her own undoing.
At one time, he came upon a princess tiara as part of his treasure pull from a successful kidnapping of royalty. In order to dispose of the royal artifact, he had the enchantment transfered to a single jewel worn as a third eye and let them keep the rest of the encrusted property one worn by a queen as payment.
While worn, a third eye conceal protects the wearer from view by all devices, powers, and spells that detect, influence, or read emotions or thoughts. This power protects against all mind-affecting powers and effects as well as information-gathering by clairsentience powers or effects.
Given his propensity for tavern wenches and the like, he was quick to acquire a trinket from the temple of Aphrodite The wearer of this blue gem on a silver chain is immune to disease, including supernatural diseases.
Collected from the skin of a displacer beast, he had its pelt fashioned into his sleeveless longcoat with its powers still within the folds.
Worn inside out to hide its value, he keeps a vest once worn by a pyromancer who was dumb enough to think his innerfire was more powerful than a white dragon. Octavius managed to convince the dragon that the vest would melt the beasts home so he would take it far away while the dragon ate the former wizard for lunch.
Collected from a gnome adventuring party, he managed to run three through on his blade but only kept the one treasure.
1) Mount
2) Slumber
3) Phantasmal Killer
A most useful glove he keeps on hand, it once belonged to an assassin who would use it to bring all manner of gear in a backpack hidden in the stitching. When not used to hide his sword from public eye, he is often known to put his hand into a bucket full (20 pints/2.5 gallons) of holy water and secure it away for dealing with fiery or unholy creatures.
Two small but simple rings in his line of work,
A dwarven ring warded to protect the wearer from evil is actually a good choice when traveling with evil on a daily basis.
As powerful as a ring of invisibility, but far better for him as it makes eight more of him appear rather than make him vanish.
Made from the hide of a Steel dragon parading around as a priestess to Athena, she was fought and slain on her monthly hunt while she was fat and full of a heard of sheep they had left for her as an ambush. When crafted into armor, he had the choice to make the leather immune to acid or protect the wearer from poison, he took the poison protection. In truth it protects him as a full suit of armor as strong as platemail but glamored to be debatable levels of leather and hide piecemeal to suit his ego.
A prize from the arenas, once worn by a master of unarmed combat, this rope belt keeps him far more flexible than he ever could be without it.
Acquired from a fellow raider, a barbarian far from home who could outrun almost anything but a cup of envenomed wine.
These boots let him move faster than normal for moments at a time, acting as a blur when speed was needed over power.
Tattoo:
Psychoactive skin:
Morningstar
An lesser weapon best put to use when three feet of steel isn't recommended. He really hopes to replace it with a mace of disruption soon enough.
Shield
There are times when running around half naked with a greatsword isn't the best plans. When he has to play the defensive position, he uses a heavy shield with a depiction of Gaia upon it as she is of the earth as is hades.
Throwing Axe
When he needs to reach out and touch someone. He is also known to take a moment for himself to relax with all manner of pungent herb or alchemical paste into the bowl on the back.
His gift from beyond. Once, when he was a much younger lad, he traveled as a squire under a paladin of Hercules and her elderly wizard friend into the keep of a vile necromancer. Unfortunately there is a big difference between necromancer and a newly formed litch! Thinking quickly, the paladin took her bag of holding and threw it over them both to pop it away into a pocket realm for just a few seconds as the squire smashed the Phylactery on the work table. The litch turned to dust within the bag and the paladin sacrificed herself for the greater good. Octavius had an idea. He had the wizard use his magic to transmute the holy cold-iron plate-mail of the paladin to the litch dust and he had a greatsword forged from the coldiron dust.
This weapon is a Bane of the undead both solid and ghostly. Its supernaturally keen edge can store the simplest of enchantments within its Damascus folds for release at his will.
Why would a worshiper of the god of death have such enmity to the undead? To KEEP them in Tartarus where they belong!
Recently, he came upon a Devil who had a gift for Octavius. It seems the litch he had defeated so long ago had tried to use the phylactery as a bypass from the devils due. If the litch had succeeded it would have been most embarrassing and bad for business. So out of gratitude he offered the man one gift on credit, not the usual freebie sort of thing but the 'finders fee' of a wayward soul.
Thinking about it, he could easily wish to be the most or the best or the richest... but he had seen how that can bite you in the ass with previous people so he chose to keep it smaller, something he could live without; an extra enchantment on his blade. The two bickered back and forth on the who or what to be done but Octavius was rather stringent on not asking for too much, lest he rely on it too far.
In the end he got an idea from an assassin he used to know and had a small ruby inset into the pommel of his sword. This ruby would trap the soul of every victim of his sword for later that he could bring back to the devil for more credit. So far, Octavius cant find a problem with the deal and that bothers him. |
9,571 | 268 | 130 | 538 | 2,678 | Umbra stood silently watching the situation unfold in front of him. The priestess had what seemed like an unbreakable grip on Athinar, only for something strange to happen. In almost an instant Athinar had defeated the mage, and suddenly held a strange sword in his hand. Soon attention turned towards the knight.
Umbra quickly took action and found a nearby archer, terrified and confused, attempting to flee from a nearby rooftop, a perfect target. Charging towards the man he quickly possessed the archer and took aim towards the knight. “This chaos is making it difficult to aim” he scowled, but time wasn’t on his side as Athinar had begun blindly charging towards the knight himself. Feeling almost pressured Umbra took the shot anyways, managing to strike him squarely in the shoulder.
Both the soldiers and the knight looked confused, most likely wondering if it had been friendly fire or an enemy arrow. Suddenly, the wound began to freeze. It wouldn’t be long until his entire shoulder would go numb, but by the looks of it, they wouldn’t live long enough to find that out. Athinar was quickly closing the gap between them, and their attention had turned elsewhere. “Not exactly a killing blow, but Athinar can handle the rest.” Umbra quietly muttered. | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,572 | 268 | 131 | 268 | 1,389 | The explosion had thrown Torrens back as much as it did the priest of Caldor, although unlike the Caldorian priest he was immune to physical injury, so he was able to stand back up again. Standing and intact though he was, the effort exerted and the blow taken had reduced Torrens' incandescence below visible levels in this fire-lit alley and his hue had changed to a appreciably darker shade of red. He noticed that the priest was on the brink of death- his body not torn apart by the explosion but his head mortally wounded from and impact against a wall. He also saw the priest utter one last spell. His eyes followed the flow of smoke to a point above his head, where it formed an utterly monstrous black cloud. Torrens had barely started running when the cloud dived, but he was not able to outrun that beast and was swallowed whole.
Blackness. The thick layer of soot, tar and ash covering his entire body made it impossible for Torrens to see and dulled the rest of his perception. However, the priest had erred in assuming this would kill him, or even harm him. Torrens did not store his energy has live fire, and so required no oxygen. Instead, it was stored as thermal energy, which could not be smothered or destroyed, only lost and transferred. One interesting side effect that he noted was that the covering over his body acted as an excellent insulator, such that almost all his passive heat loss had stopped. However, the insulation also meant that he couldn't conjure any fire or absorb heat from outside. It would have to go.
Being blind and having his movement restricted made any attempt at doing anything very difficult, and that the enchantment on the smoke lingered for some time made it impossible for him to make any progress for about a minute. However, with the caster dead and the smoke dispersing, the magic soon began to fade, and it was not long before Torrens had managed to scrape enough tar off his face for him to see again.
Having reached that milestone, Torrens was able to assess the situation. Single-handedly, he had managed to kill what must have been one of the town's champions, and of that he was proud, but the main battle was not over yet. Athinar was fighting a mighty knight, and much of the guard force and priests remained. However, in this state Torrens could not help. He was too weak, and needed to recharge first. Spotting a nearby column of smoke lit by a large fire from below, Torrens approached the burning buildings, scraping off more of the tar as he went. Into what had been some hall he entered, basking in the inferno which had earlier engulfed the building. As he absorbed, the fire grew ever hotter and hungrier in order to keep up with demand. After only a minute the building had been so consumed by this fire that it collapsed and the fire died down as fuel ran short.
Refreshed, and mostly clean, Torrens jogged back to the main street. By now the champion Athinar was facing would probably be dead, and all that should remain would be the guards and ordinary priests, which would not present a major challenge. Shukra's orcs might have managed to make it to the battle by now as well, which would make even shorter work of the remaining resistance. But Torrens didn't mind having to go to do this bit of cleaning up. It should be easy enough to be enjoyable, even. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,573 | 268 | 132 | 1,449 | 5,930 | Ever sensitive to vibrations and noises, the swarm queen was well aware of the encroaching dwarves. They, however, did not know what hit them. Feeling a rather vicious mood today, Clotho sped toward the source of the noises, dragonfly wings aflutter and rapier bared. At her nigh-unmatchable speed, she was in the midst of the dwarves before most could even see her, let alone organize some endeavor at defense. Not sacrificing even a single kilogram meter per second of momentum, Clotho went into a corkscrew dive with her rapier in front, and dove not into but through the first dwarf, severing his spinal cord and bursting out the other side. Panicked yells and wild swings of weapons did not stop her onslaught. With expert precision, Clotho inserted her rapier's point into a vital organ before abruptly pulling it out again, removing the remains of that organ and anything in the immediate vicinity along with it, courtesy of the barbs.
However, two of the dwarves kept their heads, the squad leader and a stalwart veteran apparently, and for a moment Clotho found herself engaged in a two-versus-one duel. With her momentum now gone, she hovered in the air in front of the dwarves, testing out their reaction times with exploratory thrusts and quick, whipping slashes. They both displayed a remarkable aptitude for survival, and Clotho could not help but feel a small sort of respect toward these foes. Peeling off, she consciously allowed herself to access her adrenaline reservoir, and her image jittered before seemingly splitting apart, one of her heading left and the other right. It was a fifty-fifty guess to which side she would be attacking, and the dwarves each chose a different direction to cover, one with a broad axe and the other with a hammer and shield.
Then Clotho's images realigned, directly above both of the diminutive humanoids' heads. She lashed out in a dual kick, one to each hairy noggin, and one of them dropped to his knee, stunned. The other, hearing the murmur of her wings, had moved his head to dilute a powerful strike into a glancing blow, and he swung toward Clotho's foot with his axe. For once, the swarm queen didn't move quite fast enough, and a reddish pus thicker than blood welled from the wound. The next instant, however, she dived down and injected him with her stinger, bringing him under her influence just as she had with the previous survivor. Two told a more convincing tale than one, she thought, though she also hoped two would be enough; there was no more prototype toxin left.
After mercifully finishing the other dwarf with a thrust to the back of the neck, and disposing the body by dragging it into a nearby pit, she listened carefully against one of the walls. There was a certain tremor reaching her, impossible to tell of course if it was one of her own or the enemy, but either suited her fine. Clotho darted down the tunnel and toward the area where Xahillion lay in wait. | Name: Clotho
Physical Form: Clotho is a foot taller than most men, with long arms and legs, and has a chitinous exoskeleton that is a dull brown-maroon in color. Four gossamer rounded wings, transparent green with orange edges, form into a cloak when not in use. Her shell forms into a barbaric-style armor around her shoulders, knees and thighs, gauntlets, and chest. Small spikes line many of the edges of her shell. Her face is crossed with seams, her nose is inhumanly sharp, and her wide mouth is lined with razor-sharp teeth. A shock of black hair more like spines protrudes from the top of her head. Additionally, her eyes are a bright, luminescent green, with layered pupil rings. Instead of hair, two membranous mini-wings protruding from her upper back form into a hood.
Abilities: Clotho's wings grant her the power of flight, which she can perform with almost ludicrous speed and agility. Her insect carapace functions like armor, affording her ample protections. Hidden inside her left forearm is the Stinger, which she can project from her palm for stabbing. The Stinger can inject a variety of toxins into a target, all of which are manufactured chemically within Clotho's own glands. Such toxins include 'poison', 'paralysis', 'mutation', 'subordination', 'blindness', and 'calcification'.
Cloth also has the ability to command bugs and parasites. Aside from conjuring flies, hornets, leeches, worms, and flesh-eating beetles, sometimes in vast swarms, she also controls her own minions in the form of Myrmidons, Lambent, and Antlions. These she orders around via chirp-calls, and she has no true leadership ability.
The true combat ability of Clotho, however, lies in her rapier. With a barbed tip, it can slide into flesh cleanly and eviscerate it on the way out. Its flexible blade allows Clotho to lash the tip around when fighting, cutting and gashing opponents as she opens them up for a thrust. Its deceptive deadliness, couple with Clotho's uncanny speed and notable strength, make it a lethal tool of destruction.
Personality: A certain conflict underlies Clotho's convincing exterior. Deep inside she is still Nona, confused and reticent and immature. This directly disparages with the aged experience of the that melded its soul with hers, whose bloodthirsty monstrosity has guided her thus far as a Keeper. The union of the two distinct spirits produced Clotho, a cunning, intelligent imperialist. Clotho is without conscious barring the distant, faint murmurs of the suppressed girl within her, and will kill without question, though good judgment keeps her from exercising this often. Though self-centered, she is more than willing to make alliances and deals for mutual gain, and will even adhere to them—an behavior unheard of among most such creatures.
Wants/Needs: Clotho lusts for power and control. She wants nothing more than to rise through the ranks of her master and become both his most powerful warrior and most trusted ally. Eventually, Clotho wishes to gain the ability to become a Dungeon Keeper herself, though she does not plan whatsoever on betraying her current master.
Relationships: None
Backstory: Clotho was once human, an urchin of Virens. This premier logging town, situated in the Oerwood Forest north of the Saploya river, was home to over two hundred thousand, but never truly to a girl called Nona. Surviving by her wits and her knack for finding odd jobs, she later became reliant on the family of Theo Rosenstern. Theo, playing the nobleman as well as the romantic, sought to feel better about his own clan's success and gain a girlfriend in the process by hanging out with Nona and helping her get by. Ever in need of aid, Nona accepted, forming an uneasy relationship with the boy while trying to make ends meet. From a young age, the Biomancer's Guild of Virens, responsible for the magical acceleration of conditioning of the city's saplings and crops, had fascinated her, but her own lowly beginnings and ineptitude for magic estranged her from the organization.
It was in this stagnation, during her nineteenth year of a woeful life, that a voice first reached out to her through her dreams. Its whispers, low and meaningless at first, grew in strength as she became more desperate, and finally its message became clear: journey into the jungle and find a special insect. After convincing Theo to accompany her, Nona left in the morning to pursue her dream. Hours later, she arrived in an unpeopled lumber camp miles from the city limits. Upon entering the shack at its center, she beheld a nasty-looking metallic green wasp confined in a jar. In a trance, she seized the jar -totally unresponsive to Theo's urges- and smashed it against the ground, freeing the wasp. Immediately it stung her, injecting into her the ancient soul of an insidious being of darkness—Kafka.
The two minds, girl and monster, melded, and in the process her own body transformed into its current state. Long before the modification finished, Theo took to his heels. That day, Clotho came to be.
From there she imposed herself on the forest, thinking to become a force of darkness. Though the self-appointed Vermin Queen stockpiled quite the retinue of mindless insectoid minions, and gave the nearby towns a great deal of trouble, she never quite lived up to the status of an evil overlord. After a botched attempt to obliterate her former hometown caused an army of avenging townsfolk to converge on her lair, she fled south until she happened to find one of the Overlord's bands. After wiping the plains with them, she sought the Overlord's dungeon, and pledged her service to him without question. |
9,574 | 268 | 133 | 1,809 | 47 | As Xallihion comes to the end of the tunnel, he will reach out his mind, feeling for any other sentient minds in the immediate vicinity. Sensing three minds, like candles in a dark room, not far from his position and will stop to see what happens as two of the candles are snuffed out. Hmm, Seems like this creature might be strong enough to serve me well. With the final Mind moving towards him, Xallihion will step out and turn down the tunnel, determined to see this creature and see if it might be skilled enough to serve him. With his slaves following behind him, Xallihion will move quickly, his milky white eyes piercing the darkness almost as if it wasn't there as he catches sight of the female insect like creature. Stopping in the middle of the tunnel and giving a mental command to his slaves to stay back, Xallihion will reach out and touch the mind of the creature with his thoughts to give it the chance to join him willingly.
As his mind touches her mind, Xallihion's touch will recoil quickly as he senses the two minds that are fused together in this creature. Quickly recovering and thinking to himself of the leaders of his race, Apparently my people aren't the only ones who fuse their minds together for power. Reaching out with his mind again, Xallihion will touch her mind and this time will recognize her mind as the one attached to the bug his slave brought to him. So, you are the one that has jumped into the Game I was playing with these slaves. Tell me, are you strong eough to be a Player or a Piece? | Name: Xallihion
Standing at 6' 3, Xallihion has a frail body and is obviously more used to pouring over a tome than manual labor.
Abilities: Xallihion uses Telepathy to communicate with those within a 100 feet radius around himself, as his natural mouth is incapable of producing speech and has very good night vision as his race lives deep in the earth where there is no light. Xallihion's powerful mind also allows him to rip the will from those who are not mentally strong or to send out a wave that can mentally stun those caught in it for a few seconds. Xallihion has spent most of his life studying magic, learning to kill his enemies from afar so that he doesn't have to get his own hands dirty. Xallihion prefers to use pure Force magic when he fights his enemies, though setting them on fire with a Fireball or encasing them in ice with a Frostbolt is also a favored tactic.
Personality: Xallihion keeps his emotions out of the equation and uses cold logic to make his plans and execute them to the greatest effect. When it comes down to it, Xallihion prefers to use cat's paws and minions/slaves to carry out his plans and to keep his own hands from having to get dirty.
Wants/Needs: Xallihion's whole goal is to acquire power and any knowledge of magic that he can
Relationships: Has no feelings one way or another about anyone (subject to change if someone keeps messing with his plans or is deemed to be a useful lackey/scape goat)
Backstory: Xallihion's race has long been hidden deep within the earth, rulers of the land where light has never touched. Holding a middle rank amoungst his people, Xallihion began a quest for power that would end up consuming his world. Xallihion was lured to the surface by his constant search for knowledge and power, with this quest eventually bringing him into contact with the Dungeon Keeper. Upon meeting this powerful creature, Xallihion quickly offered his serves in exchange for knowledge and power.
Other: - |
9,575 | 268 | 134 | 351 | 2,364 | It was done.
Twich closed and sealed the lid on the second cauldron, the kobold wiping his brow a little before stepping outside of his lab/lair in order to recruit some imps in order to carry the bloody things to the dwarves via Clotho's tunnels. If anything had been learned from the operation so far it was that a means for team members to communicate with each other over long or medium distances needed to be created as soon as possible; For all he knew Clotho's swarm had been discovered by the dwarves and there was currently a full scale war between her forces, the dwarves and some sort of squid monster army that had been living in the lower mines that they had not been aware of or been able to account for until now.
Granted, the squid monster army was a bitof a wild card but the point remained that reliable communication between team mates was going to be a must in the future. Besides, poisonous gas worked on squid monsters, right?
It didn't take long to gather his carrier imps together and get the cauldrons moving down the tunnels that Clotho's bugs had left behind. For the security of the dungeon they were going to have to be caved in once all was said and done but for now they were useful; Twich and the imps were creatures of tunnels by nature and even weighed down by the cauldrons progress should have been rather quick.
He just hoped the situation hadn't gotten to far out of claw in the meantime. | Name:
Twich
Physical Form:
Abilities:
Smarter then thou: What Twich lacks in physical strength and size, he makes up for with a cruel cunning, a twisted intellect and a surprisingly strong will.
Alchemist Training: There are only two things that an alchemist needs to be able to do in order to be a good alchemist; The ability to flip a table and be on the other side of it when what they are working on explodes and the ability to know exactly when to do this. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
If you don't want to eat it just because it has some mold growing on it, hand it over.: Twich is a kobold. They can eat just about anything regardless of how rotten its become just fine without ill effect. They are also immune to horrible smells that would make others sick.
Love the BOOM!: There is something about arson and explosions that just appeals to Twich's soul. The fact that he is very good at creating things that explode and set things on fire makes his inner hatchling very happy.
WHY?! FOR SCIENCE!: Twich doesn't always create or tamper with things to make them explode or catch fire (At least, not as the end goal). Often he likes to create concoctions or perform experiments for a large number of reasons, more often then not because he felt like it or just wants to see if the current theory in his head has any basis in reality.
Personality:
Those who meet Twich would surprisingly discover that he is, above everything else, quite civil. Those above or greater then him will get the recognition that they deserve of course but those of equal and even lower standing will be treated with professional, polite conversation when talking with Twich. They will also quickly discover that he is quite 'mad'; His mind seems to operate on a completely different wavelength then everyone around him and he often views the world far differently from other people as well.
If one really wants to see him in his prime however, all they need to do is suggest a possible alchemy or science experiment within Twich's hearing range. The quest for discovery and knowledge burns within him brighter then the flames of hell themselves; Despite this he has made it quite clear to several demons that have offered him deals for knowledge and alchemist/scientific discoveries in exchange for his soul that he is not interested because 'That was the path of cowards and fools'.
Even the most evil of beings would find the calm, professional and somewhat detracted approach that Twich takes with his experiments rather... unnerving. Almost all of his experiments are performed on live test subjects... often without their knowledge let alone consent.
Wants/Needs: A bigger lab, more resources and freedom to explore with his various fields of science and alchemy. First pick of any group of slaves and captives with no questions asked as to why he wants/needs them. The right to take any student that he wishes.
Relationships: Fairly civil, shows the needed respect to those that require it.
Backstory: Twich was born to the Snakebiter tribe, a kobold tribe that had its tunnels located underneath a somewhat poisonous swamp. Taken to be trained as an alchemist rather early on when he showed he had a knack for it, Twich rather quickly learned everything that his tribe knew about it and found himself consumed by the desire to learn more. At first traveling to other kobold tribes to study, Twich soon found himself learning from many of the other underworld denizens in exchange for his services; At times he even found teachers among the more open minded of the surface dwelling races. When he ran out of teachers who could offer him new knowledge, Twich wasn't satisfied. He needed to know more and that meant he needed to create more things to learn himself.
This is rather challenging as an independent working alone... but with the raise of the Master and his 'Hordes of Darkness', Twich found a patron who could make his dreams and desires a reality in exchange for his services.
Other: - |
9,576 | 268 | 135 | 304 | 2,137 | Balothiss stopped his onslaught and decided to duck into an alley nearby where he came face to face with a couple of knights who attacked him as soon as he appeared Balothiss threw a punch at the nearest knight who was sent flying into the wall and Balothiss heard the mans back break the other knight backed up and was pleading for his life on his knees moving back as Balothiss moved towards him.
"You plead for your life as I once pleaded for my innocence,"
Balothiss said as he lifted the knight by his tunic with one hand, a small tear running down the mans eye.
"For that you are very stupid to do for the answer may only be death!"
He jabbed the man through the chest with his own sword and then slowly put him to the ground and walked away and as he walked away he thought of what his choices were now he could raid a nobles house or burn down the church but he looked at the largest building he could find which was a manor surrounded by a large stone wall and a few armed guards fighting off some orcs who took the advantage to attack a house who were probably going to die.
Balothiss smiled and thought about burning and pillaging the house and he nodded with an devilish look on his face as he thought of all the dastardly things he would do to it.
And he ran in the direction of the manor. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
9,577 | 268 | 136 | 1,499 | 991 | Seeing the knights being slaughtered by Balothiss gave the curse soul a moments respite. These were knights who may have been loyal to an idea at one point. They might be here only from a sworn fealty. Fools, symbols of his own once naivety. The cold grew around the shade. He would release them from their vows. Moving into the fray cold stair took no pleasure in each piercing cry.
The sword had no hold over him yet, almost on its own did it find its way into each knight. Whether it was the head or chest the twitch the body made from the soul being pierced did little to sway his disdain of these wretches. As the bodies hit the ground frost and necrosis took them. No savior would come on wings of light. No prayer uttered would help them escape. The only thing that sought them was death. It was death that would hold each of them as the specter did its work. Many of them felt the ice grow in there lungs after his strike. As the light of hope left them they could feel the rotting of flesh from their face. Other few unfortunate souls would swing their weapon at this figure only to have it land on the ally across from them. This made it seem that the shade could produce blades from his body. The idea alone sent some knights to soil their armor. Cold stare cared not for the sound or the way they died. Just the fact that they were dead gave him the strength to kill more. | Name: Cold stare
Physical form: Manifestation of 6ft incorporeal image hovering 3 inches off the ground.
Abilities: Necrotizing fasciitis in 3ft diameter when manifested. Moves threw physical barriers. Ghost blade ignores physical barriers, plunged into the living removes the warmth of life. Person actually dies of hypothermia with no physical wound. The air grows cold on his approach and plants wilt only when manifested. Invisible when not manifested. Can be repelled from a area, and blocked from manifesting for 24 hours. Able to see the life force of the living. The dead are invisible, he only sees what he wants to. Has the dead traits of being immune to sleep, poison, death, physical damage, disease, charm, illusion, and additional curses.
Personality: Cold.
Desires/Goals: Driven by the single goal Murdering the human race that let him die in the street. Only in the face of horror do humans find their nobler selves. I will bring them fear as they will never forget.
Back story: Once a champion of the people. This knight of justice fought on their behalf slaying all who would prey on the innocent. No matter the odds this champion would ride forth and right the wrong. Not for king, or queen, but the people. Bandits, thieves, corrupt royalty, cowardly guards, it mattered little to him. Steel was the scales of justice he used to exact forgiveness from the wrong.
After one such crusade against the corrupt band of mercenaries exacting a protection toll (some from the very flesh of the villages youth) in a farming village, this champion put the sword to these villains. Heavily out numbered and taking some cross bow fire he prevailed. Mortally wounded he asked the people for help. The village closed there doors and let him die in the street. The fear they had lived with for so long stayed even after the threat was gone. With his dying breath he cursed, not them but himself for believing that good deeds sowed the seed of fellowship. The villagers later dragged him and the mercenaries to the woods at the edge of town and left them to rot. Years later he arose, from his own death after his body was eaten by scavengers. Cursed to never know peace by his own soul, by the people he devoted his life to protect, by the gods. |
9,578 | 268 | 137 | 304 | 2,137 | Balothiss thought nothing of the knights who tried to slow his pace towards the manor he slapped them out of his way took clubs to the knees and he kicked back breaking rib cages and pelvis bones his armour was covered in the blood of his enemies and the water of the ice he was drenched and a little cold but he paid it no mind for his resolve was to kill any who got in his way.
And he did a good job of it many tried to kill him most only injured him minorly and were crushed by a mighty punch or killed by his sword or burnt to a crisp he felt like a god amongst the fray of warriors who tried to topple him but failed.
Balothiss sent a large ball of flame towards a pavilion below the manor where guards were marching and the fire exploded and spread around to a garden and many of the Knights guarding the pavilion burnt to death in the flames the fire was only maintained in the pavilion although some fires sproted up on the walls and a couple of crossbow slinging knights appeared in windows and shot Balothiss but only gave him a small amount of wounds.
He laughed at how pitiful the attacks were getting and he sent to more fireballs at them.
By the time he got close enough a group of knights spotted him making his way towards the manor and were chasing him but we're failing to catch up and Balothiss ran and laughed as the knights huffed and puffed and slowed down some even giving up and turning around and ran back into the other battle and the others often met a few fire balls that Balothiss threw from time to time and once at least a few were left they all turned and fled.
Once he finished mocking them he turned and found himself starting at the smouldering pavilion he had set ablaze from afar he was impressed on how much damage he had caused and looked around to find the bodies of multiple other knights he took no pleasure in their deaths but was prideful of his work he surveyed around and checked to see any other enemies around.
He caught a glimpse of a knight poking his head out the window of the third floor and knew that they were hiding in the building.
"No building can keep me from what I want!"
Balothiss thought snidely to himself as he prepared to break into the building. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
9,579 | 268 | 138 | 215 | 1,683 | As the crossbow bolts whistled towards Athinar, he only howled in delight. A real challenge, not some puny villagers, or pitiful sorcerer. As he closed the gap on the knight, six of the ten bolts caught him, two on his left shoulder, one on his right thigh, one was deflected by the armor on his left forearm, and one bounced off of his pauldron. The crossbow bolts only staggered him for a moment, causing him to shake his head, before ripping out the bolts, coming away with a spattering of blood. Running forward, Athinar threw the three bolts back at the crossbowmen, catching one twice in the throat, and another in the gut. Both fatal blows, with the force the fighter threw them with. The blood from the circular wounds oozed, rather than sprayed, as it seemed that he acted quickly enough to not have them cause any more serious damage.
Then, as he reached the knight, an arrow struck the champion's shoulder, freezing it, and turning everyone else's attention to the 'traitor'. Probably Narza or Umbra. Flinging his shield at Athinar's head, the bestial man ducked quickly as the hunk of metal slammed into a spearman behind him, knocking him out cold. When he attempted to slash his mysterious black sword at the knight, Athinar barely had time to brace himself before the knight swung the sword by the blade, aiming for his head. The hilt of the sword clanged as it was deflected by Athinar's helm, even if it did dent it inwards, slightly, not enough to become a liability to the fighter. The real trouble came when the knight dropped down, and hooked it around his ankle, causing him to begin to fall.
Before he reached the ground, however, the fighter reacted instantly, years of training by those pathetic monks serving him well. Stabbing his sword into the dirt, Athinar swung around the blade, sliding back, and digging a shallow trench in the earth as he knelt down, still moving away from the knight. As his backwards momentum halted, he pulled the sword from the ground, and stood up. So, it seemed that this knight was more resourceful than the others. Oh well. Athinar grinned ferally. He would still die like the others.
Before the knight could react, Athinar flung his sword at an armored swordsman, decapitating the guardsman, causing blood to spray from both his head and the stump of his neck. Stepping forward, locking his feet in place, Athinar cupped his hand in a clawed palm, focusing on the magnificent crimson spray around him. Instantly, the blood spilled by the battle, everywhere in the square, was sucked towards Athinar's palm, forming a red ball of energy there. Thrusting his palm at the Knight's head, he smiled, and whispered in the knight's ear, "Boom." As it impacted the helmet, an explosion, formed of the concentrated life-force in the blood, detonated. Even if the knight was unharmed, it would fling him backwards, causing him to land on his back. Around Athinar, a shockwave caused the five closest guards to be knocked into the ground, making them break several bones.
Athinar roared, a challenge to anyone nearby. Was there anyone who would try and take him on? | Name: Athinar Gol-Gaia
Physical Form:
Tall, well-muscled, and stable, he is the pinnacle of physical perfection, even by the standards of some who would call themselves 'Immortal'. He is 6'8", and weighs at 300 pounds, in his normal form.
In his alternate form, he gains a sentient sword, and a set of armor which is actually part of him. In this form, sometimes his face is visible, but more often than not, he keeps his mask on. He is 7'0" even, and weighs 450 pounds.
Abilities:
Normal Form / Carnage Form - Athinar has decided to forgo magic that affects others, in favor of a magic that supplements his already impressive strength. His Carnage Form is a shell, which looks like armor, but actually is a super-dense exoskeleton. While in this form, he is significantly slower, but is immensely more powerful in terms of strength and defense.
Summon: Carnage Blade - Athinar has the ability to summon his Carnage blade at any time, however it is smaller and less impressive when he's not in Carnage form, although it still is alive, and speaks to him. The blade's name is Requiem. what the sword looks like, except with glowing red runes down the middle.
(Normal Form - Rock Style) Blood Palm - Athinar uses the blood spilled by anyone, including his own, in a fight, to empower his fist's attack.
Martial Arts - Athinar was trained in three forms of martial arts by the monks. However, he is only the equivalent of a black belt in one, and slightly competent in the others.
(Skilled)Rock Style - Athinar stays solid, and in place, for the most part. He uses his fists, elbows, and occasionally trips the enemy, but tries to keep his feet steady. For if he can, not much in the terms of human force can move him, but if anyone has trained in Windstance (or was strong enough), they could move him through sheer momentum and weight transfer.
(Beginner)The Path of the Cyclone - Not so much a martial art as a series of moves, executed one after the other, this unarmed style is used to fight large groups of enemies. There are twelve moves altogether, in three groups. However, Athinar was only taught the first group, and cannot continue the momentum of the Path.
- Leaping Tornado: Athinar lunges forward, landing among his enemies.
- Unseen Tempest: Athinar waits three seconds for enemies to close in, ready to strike.
- Stormblade: Athinar ducks down beneath a man's weapon, and elbows him in the chest/neck area.
- Cyclone Kick: Athinar does a roundhouse kick, tripping all surrounding enemies.
However, these are usually poorly executed, due to lack of training.
(Beginner) Celestial Mirage - This is possibly the martial art that he's learned that he has the most trouble with. It is a kick-based martial art, one that forces you to maintain patience. It's attacks come in bursts, to draw the enemy out, and allow the student to analyze the situation. However bad Athinar is with this, it was still one of the arts he learned from the monks, and he views it as a useful, albeit F*CKING INFURIATING skill.
Personality: Athinar gets intense pleasure from seeing other creature's blood. No matter the circumstances, or whether he is allied with them or not. When he is not getting excited by bloodlust, he is usually a very calm, collected individual, who is quite intelligent, surprisingly. When blood is near, he turns into a vicious man, taking pleasure in drawing blood, tasting it, etc. Afterwards, he is, shall we say, *ahem* easily excitable. If you know what I mean. However, this doesn't mean that he's not smart. He is extremely smart, in his bloodlust, and will be able to craft plans on the fly, if they end in violence and killing.
Relationships:
Emily- Thinks that the homunculus is beneath his attention, generally, unless she does something big and shiny.
That Which Consumes Peace- A fool, disobeying the Boss, but made a nice save, getting Shukra mildly punished.
Ekushka- Hasn't met her yet.
Narza- Is quite fond of the little ghost, curretly.
Shukra- A pompous ass who fails at commanding.
Darkwraith Kor- A good fighter, like Athinar, who shares his bloodlust. Enjoys his company.
Azavarn- Too flamboyant.
Umbra/Christopher- Thinks that Christopher is a bit off, but doesn't know why.
Torrens- Doesn't have any opinion of him, but thinks that a fire demon might be useful.
Clotho- Has a strange fixation on Clotho's chitin.
Twitch- Has disdain for the ratty, well, twitchy kobold. Maybe if he actually did something, he might be useful.
Backstory: Athinar is the reincarnated form of an ex-Dungeon Keeper, banished from his former world, and born to a new life in this one. However, he don't remember shit, and the only benefits were the impressive physical abilities you see today. He was born to an order of monks, who trained him in every combat style, unarmed and armed. However, this revealed his darker secret, his love for shedding blood. Killing them all, he was guided by a voice in his head, who told him that if he joined with him, he'd get to kill, kill, and keep killing. So he met up with the Dungeon Keeper, and started killing.
Other: If Athinar seems too powerful, remember that he was converted to the Dungeon Keeper's cause by him just saying that he could kill people if he joined him. He's not dumb, but he does have quite the one-track-mind, and is quite susceptible to manipulation, in both forms. Like, REALLY susceptible. A novice hypnotist could put him to sleep. |
9,580 | 268 | 139 | 1,270 | 2,337 | The sun rose and with it a number of deliveries to the 'adventurers'. With a little working, the model of the city was completed in their room. Removing his earing, he set it in the centerpiece of the town as Tinkerhell spoke to her true master, the dungeonkeeper. Between the two they managed to project the scale model to the masters dragonheart. Not a direct transmission, which could be traced, but rather a pulse on the dragonheart frequency for it to most easily pick up.
This image would give his employer some of the most detailed images possible, perhaps even enough detail for him to cast his own magics or set a portal to a location to feed the imps through. He wouldn't spill out any more details that might be picked up as obvious troop movements or the like in case it was intercepted. But for now he would wait for a return message from the keeper. | Name:
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher, "The Dashing Bastard"
Physical Form: "I put the gore in gorgeous!"
6'6" and 300 of tight body tone. Unarmored, he has a score of scars running him over from a decade in the arenas. His eyes are a fine gray with a catlike shimmer of silver in the back.
Abilities:
Curse; The cornerstone of the hexblade, the ability to lay a witches malicious befuddlement upon intended targets. Not an attack in of itself, it is a go-to weakening of the enemy before engaging. He often pairs the curse with a memorized intimidation to follow up and bring most to cower before finishing them off in a single blow.
Resistance; Like a paladin, he can rely on his sheer strength of will to help shrug off attacks to mind body and soul.
Mettle: Those that he cannot avoid, he tries do bear down and endure, taking the lesser of the worlds woes when he has the chance.
Prestidigitation: Because of the hexblade's calling, Octavius' desire to know more about his arcane abilities manifests itself beyond the ability to curse and the he is able to cast minor prestidigitations at will.
(Item) familiar: Where most would bond to a creature from elsewhere for more power, he has strengthened the bond with his sword to a supernatural level.
Aura of unluck: Once per day Octavius can create a baleful aura of misfortune. Any melee or ranged attack made against the hexblade while this aura of unluck is active has a higher miss chance. Activating the aura is a free action, and the aura lasts for a full minute.
Spells: Like a sorcerer, he uses his sheer strength of will to manifest magic in the world. He just severely lacks the dedication most others would possess by this time.
0 Message
0 Dancing lights
0 Mage hand
0 Detect magic
0 Acid splash
0 Distupt undead
1 True strike
1 Shocking grasp
1 Color spray
1 Identify
2 Eagle splendor
2 Flaming sphere
Personality:
Truly Octavius' greatest strength is his overwhelming charisma, wielded as a weapon as much as his sword. He brings it to bear to cow the most stalwart of enemies and draw up the crowds to a screaming frenzy in the arena.
He is a patient man in combat, often letting the others go first before he devastates them.
He had devoted his life to death, Hades specifically, as a way to deal with the loss of his family. But one can only lash out for so long. In time the burn in his hearth grew cold and hollow so he turned to ways to fill the hole, most often drinking and tavern wenches. But in the end he still fell back to his oldest friend, death. Its more of a bad habit than an addiction, but every week he makes his way to some manner of arena to put himself in the ring.
He's smarter than he ever lets on, by no means is he a genius with lifetimes of knowledge. He's just more experienced that he'd like to be in the way the world works. The best thing he always reminds himself 'always assume they are better than you in every way and plan to fail'.
Relationships:
Since his arrival, he has taken a keen interest in Tinkerhel, She might be a nymphomaniac, but he thinks there is a whole lot more going on in her head.
Backstory:
Octavius' tale is not at twisted as many might think. His parents were simple farmers, his grandfather was a retired army officer who was too maimed to bear spear. When his chores were done for the day, his grandfather would train him in a longsword so big the boy needed both hands to wield it.
Suns rose and set for a decade until the boy on cusp of manhood could now wield the longsword in a single hand. But now he was starting to think with the dagger between his knees and had his eye on the girl across the creek. They were promised to each other and their parents agreed to the union. Sadly, the fates have more in mind than a happy farmer.
A merchant cart heavy with goods came to the farm, asking for a night in the barn for a few silver, all was well until the bandits climbed out of crate and pot to slaughter the family. The boy did well by all accounts, with no armor and only a sword older than him to keep himself safe as he killed the bandit leader while the others ran. As he burned the bodies, he was visited by a lady paladin of Hercule and her ancient wizard. One of his first life lessons about the bigger world would be that halflings and dwarves clearly age differently.
She could see he was strong, strong enough to carry her stuff as his squire as he had nothing left for him here, indeed, he had no other ways to go but with them or try his own. He tried to learn magic cantrips from the wizard but had no luck compared to the combat she refined from what his father gave him. She was teaching him how to fight in armor, a skill he lacked, when they came upon a wizard of the dead.
They made their way to the wizards workshop when they came to discover he was just finishing his ritual to litchdom. The paladin took the undead in a full body tackle while the other two destroyed the phylactery, the wizard found it while Octavius shattered the device but it was too late to save her from its evil magic. The magic of the ritual burned its way into him and changed him to his very core.
Other:
His hat he got from a pirate captain to whom he served upon a ship for a year before a monster afflicted her, her hats own bubble of air was her own undoing.
At one time, he came upon a princess tiara as part of his treasure pull from a successful kidnapping of royalty. In order to dispose of the royal artifact, he had the enchantment transfered to a single jewel worn as a third eye and let them keep the rest of the encrusted property one worn by a queen as payment.
While worn, a third eye conceal protects the wearer from view by all devices, powers, and spells that detect, influence, or read emotions or thoughts. This power protects against all mind-affecting powers and effects as well as information-gathering by clairsentience powers or effects.
Given his propensity for tavern wenches and the like, he was quick to acquire a trinket from the temple of Aphrodite The wearer of this blue gem on a silver chain is immune to disease, including supernatural diseases.
Collected from the skin of a displacer beast, he had its pelt fashioned into his sleeveless longcoat with its powers still within the folds.
Worn inside out to hide its value, he keeps a vest once worn by a pyromancer who was dumb enough to think his innerfire was more powerful than a white dragon. Octavius managed to convince the dragon that the vest would melt the beasts home so he would take it far away while the dragon ate the former wizard for lunch.
Collected from a gnome adventuring party, he managed to run three through on his blade but only kept the one treasure.
1) Mount
2) Slumber
3) Phantasmal Killer
A most useful glove he keeps on hand, it once belonged to an assassin who would use it to bring all manner of gear in a backpack hidden in the stitching. When not used to hide his sword from public eye, he is often known to put his hand into a bucket full (20 pints/2.5 gallons) of holy water and secure it away for dealing with fiery or unholy creatures.
Two small but simple rings in his line of work,
A dwarven ring warded to protect the wearer from evil is actually a good choice when traveling with evil on a daily basis.
As powerful as a ring of invisibility, but far better for him as it makes eight more of him appear rather than make him vanish.
Made from the hide of a Steel dragon parading around as a priestess to Athena, she was fought and slain on her monthly hunt while she was fat and full of a heard of sheep they had left for her as an ambush. When crafted into armor, he had the choice to make the leather immune to acid or protect the wearer from poison, he took the poison protection. In truth it protects him as a full suit of armor as strong as platemail but glamored to be debatable levels of leather and hide piecemeal to suit his ego.
A prize from the arenas, once worn by a master of unarmed combat, this rope belt keeps him far more flexible than he ever could be without it.
Acquired from a fellow raider, a barbarian far from home who could outrun almost anything but a cup of envenomed wine.
These boots let him move faster than normal for moments at a time, acting as a blur when speed was needed over power.
Tattoo:
Psychoactive skin:
Morningstar
An lesser weapon best put to use when three feet of steel isn't recommended. He really hopes to replace it with a mace of disruption soon enough.
Shield
There are times when running around half naked with a greatsword isn't the best plans. When he has to play the defensive position, he uses a heavy shield with a depiction of Gaia upon it as she is of the earth as is hades.
Throwing Axe
When he needs to reach out and touch someone. He is also known to take a moment for himself to relax with all manner of pungent herb or alchemical paste into the bowl on the back.
His gift from beyond. Once, when he was a much younger lad, he traveled as a squire under a paladin of Hercules and her elderly wizard friend into the keep of a vile necromancer. Unfortunately there is a big difference between necromancer and a newly formed litch! Thinking quickly, the paladin took her bag of holding and threw it over them both to pop it away into a pocket realm for just a few seconds as the squire smashed the Phylactery on the work table. The litch turned to dust within the bag and the paladin sacrificed herself for the greater good. Octavius had an idea. He had the wizard use his magic to transmute the holy cold-iron plate-mail of the paladin to the litch dust and he had a greatsword forged from the coldiron dust.
This weapon is a Bane of the undead both solid and ghostly. Its supernaturally keen edge can store the simplest of enchantments within its Damascus folds for release at his will.
Why would a worshiper of the god of death have such enmity to the undead? To KEEP them in Tartarus where they belong!
Recently, he came upon a Devil who had a gift for Octavius. It seems the litch he had defeated so long ago had tried to use the phylactery as a bypass from the devils due. If the litch had succeeded it would have been most embarrassing and bad for business. So out of gratitude he offered the man one gift on credit, not the usual freebie sort of thing but the 'finders fee' of a wayward soul.
Thinking about it, he could easily wish to be the most or the best or the richest... but he had seen how that can bite you in the ass with previous people so he chose to keep it smaller, something he could live without; an extra enchantment on his blade. The two bickered back and forth on the who or what to be done but Octavius was rather stringent on not asking for too much, lest he rely on it too far.
In the end he got an idea from an assassin he used to know and had a small ruby inset into the pommel of his sword. This ruby would trap the soul of every victim of his sword for later that he could bring back to the devil for more credit. So far, Octavius cant find a problem with the deal and that bothers him. |
9,581 | 268 | 140 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens, in stumbling around blind then going to the burning town hall, had disoriented himself somewhat. He figured that finding the main road and joining the fight again should be easy enough, but instead of finding the main road he came across a noble mansion. This seemed to be a reasonable enough target, for any nobility would have to be supplanted in order to capture the town, so he approached.
As he got near, though, he realized that someone had beat him to it. Bodies littered the road up to the manor, killed by either blunt trauma, a blade or fire, and some sort of wooden watchtower had been reduced to cinders. He was about to continue up the road when there were shouts from behind him. He spun around to see a group of four soldiers who were approaching the manor, and had spotted him. Two of them wielded crossbows, but before they could fully raise them Torrens had already dispatched the two with well-aimed fire bolts. The other two bore wooden shields and halberds. Torrens tried shooting them as well, but they blocked with their shields and charged.
Torrens calmly stood his ground and let them approach. Once they were only five meters away he stretched out a hand and threw forth a spurt of fire, which crept underneath the soldiers' shields and licked at their legs. This stopped their charge and made them drop to the ground in pain due to the burns on their legs. Torrens exploited this opening and lunged forwards, pushing one halberd aside, nicking himself on the other halberd (which cost Torrens a small line of yellow flame) and bringing himself into arm's reach of the two soldiers. There he grabbed the faces of the two soldiers with his hands in an unpleasant yet efficient killing blow. The soldiers had a fraction of a second in which to utter a tortured scream before Torrens' hands melted through their faces and killed them.
The reinforcements dead, Torrens jogged up the road to the manor and found Balothiss the Half-Giant attempting to gain entry. Balothiss seemed to be rather battered, but not yet worn down. "Hello there. Nice job clearing the way here," Torrens greeted.
He looked to the door of the manor. It was made of thick, sturdy, reinforced wood, and very likely barricaded on the other side in an attempt to keep the rampaging half-giant outside. Balothiss, even with his great strength, would probably be battering against the door for a while before breaking through. "Let me get that for you," he offered.
He walked up to a door and pushed himself shoulder first into the far right side of the door. The wood in contact with his body burned ferociously and completely, leaving behind only the noncombustible impurities, allowing his hand to steadily progress deeper into the wood until, after several seconds, he broke through. What he also broke through were the hinges of the door, and the heavy bar keeping it locked. As such, with a gentle shove, the right half of the door fell outwards. Behind the door was furniture piled against the door, but with half the door out of the way it would be trivial for someone of Balothiss' strength to push it out of the way.
Torrens stepped out from the doorway and gestured to the opening. "You're welcome," he said to Balothiss. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,582 | 268 | 141 | 1,449 | 5,930 | For a moment after being confronted with a tentacled fiend reaching into her mind, Clotho stopped in her tracks. Once she deduced that the creature before her was intruding into her own psyche, the place she esteemed to be most private to her, she was -as ever- quick to act. No tentacle-faced beast with an affinity for the mind would make a toy out of her, or soil the image of the Dungeon Keeper. ”Allow me to demonstrate,” she spat. For a moment, she conjured up mental images of her Master, trying to convey the degree of power and influence bound within him—to show Xahillion the will of the being she served. With that done, only a second later, Clotho attacked.
She zoomed forward, filling the air with a high-pitched but loud whirring noise. Xahillion's slaves stood no chance, but on the off-chance that this being fancied himself a 'player', and had the strength to back it up, Clotho merely struck unconscious the puppeted dwarfs rather than reducing them to maggot chow. The next instant, she was still, hovering in the air as the minions slumped over. ”I am a piece, but not yours, and more than a match for you.” With that, she was on the move again, making a beeline straight toward Xahillion with rapier extended. | Name: Clotho
Physical Form: Clotho is a foot taller than most men, with long arms and legs, and has a chitinous exoskeleton that is a dull brown-maroon in color. Four gossamer rounded wings, transparent green with orange edges, form into a cloak when not in use. Her shell forms into a barbaric-style armor around her shoulders, knees and thighs, gauntlets, and chest. Small spikes line many of the edges of her shell. Her face is crossed with seams, her nose is inhumanly sharp, and her wide mouth is lined with razor-sharp teeth. A shock of black hair more like spines protrudes from the top of her head. Additionally, her eyes are a bright, luminescent green, with layered pupil rings. Instead of hair, two membranous mini-wings protruding from her upper back form into a hood.
Abilities: Clotho's wings grant her the power of flight, which she can perform with almost ludicrous speed and agility. Her insect carapace functions like armor, affording her ample protections. Hidden inside her left forearm is the Stinger, which she can project from her palm for stabbing. The Stinger can inject a variety of toxins into a target, all of which are manufactured chemically within Clotho's own glands. Such toxins include 'poison', 'paralysis', 'mutation', 'subordination', 'blindness', and 'calcification'.
Cloth also has the ability to command bugs and parasites. Aside from conjuring flies, hornets, leeches, worms, and flesh-eating beetles, sometimes in vast swarms, she also controls her own minions in the form of Myrmidons, Lambent, and Antlions. These she orders around via chirp-calls, and she has no true leadership ability.
The true combat ability of Clotho, however, lies in her rapier. With a barbed tip, it can slide into flesh cleanly and eviscerate it on the way out. Its flexible blade allows Clotho to lash the tip around when fighting, cutting and gashing opponents as she opens them up for a thrust. Its deceptive deadliness, couple with Clotho's uncanny speed and notable strength, make it a lethal tool of destruction.
Personality: A certain conflict underlies Clotho's convincing exterior. Deep inside she is still Nona, confused and reticent and immature. This directly disparages with the aged experience of the that melded its soul with hers, whose bloodthirsty monstrosity has guided her thus far as a Keeper. The union of the two distinct spirits produced Clotho, a cunning, intelligent imperialist. Clotho is without conscious barring the distant, faint murmurs of the suppressed girl within her, and will kill without question, though good judgment keeps her from exercising this often. Though self-centered, she is more than willing to make alliances and deals for mutual gain, and will even adhere to them—an behavior unheard of among most such creatures.
Wants/Needs: Clotho lusts for power and control. She wants nothing more than to rise through the ranks of her master and become both his most powerful warrior and most trusted ally. Eventually, Clotho wishes to gain the ability to become a Dungeon Keeper herself, though she does not plan whatsoever on betraying her current master.
Relationships: None
Backstory: Clotho was once human, an urchin of Virens. This premier logging town, situated in the Oerwood Forest north of the Saploya river, was home to over two hundred thousand, but never truly to a girl called Nona. Surviving by her wits and her knack for finding odd jobs, she later became reliant on the family of Theo Rosenstern. Theo, playing the nobleman as well as the romantic, sought to feel better about his own clan's success and gain a girlfriend in the process by hanging out with Nona and helping her get by. Ever in need of aid, Nona accepted, forming an uneasy relationship with the boy while trying to make ends meet. From a young age, the Biomancer's Guild of Virens, responsible for the magical acceleration of conditioning of the city's saplings and crops, had fascinated her, but her own lowly beginnings and ineptitude for magic estranged her from the organization.
It was in this stagnation, during her nineteenth year of a woeful life, that a voice first reached out to her through her dreams. Its whispers, low and meaningless at first, grew in strength as she became more desperate, and finally its message became clear: journey into the jungle and find a special insect. After convincing Theo to accompany her, Nona left in the morning to pursue her dream. Hours later, she arrived in an unpeopled lumber camp miles from the city limits. Upon entering the shack at its center, she beheld a nasty-looking metallic green wasp confined in a jar. In a trance, she seized the jar -totally unresponsive to Theo's urges- and smashed it against the ground, freeing the wasp. Immediately it stung her, injecting into her the ancient soul of an insidious being of darkness—Kafka.
The two minds, girl and monster, melded, and in the process her own body transformed into its current state. Long before the modification finished, Theo took to his heels. That day, Clotho came to be.
From there she imposed herself on the forest, thinking to become a force of darkness. Though the self-appointed Vermin Queen stockpiled quite the retinue of mindless insectoid minions, and gave the nearby towns a great deal of trouble, she never quite lived up to the status of an evil overlord. After a botched attempt to obliterate her former hometown caused an army of avenging townsfolk to converge on her lair, she fled south until she happened to find one of the Overlord's bands. After wiping the plains with them, she sought the Overlord's dungeon, and pledged her service to him without question. |
9,583 | 268 | 142 | 1,809 | 47 | Narrowing his milky and dead looking eyes at the Insect as it darted around playing with his slaves, Xallihion will think to himself in a cold detatchment, A powerful Master owns her then, annoying but this Master of hers seems interesting. In that case, let us see just how skilled his pieces are. As Clotho does her little speech and launches herself at him, Xallihion will bring his full power to bear. If you are a piece, then you should remember one thing. Every piece is an acceptable loss. Throwing one hand forward, a massive wave of pure magical force will surge down the tunnel, filling it comepletely as debris and unconscious Dwarves are picked up follow its wake before crashing into Clotho. Immediately after unleashing the Wave of Force, Xallihion's mind will strike at Clotho's own, attempting to confuse and stun her from the mental assault.
Moving both hands in practised and fluid movements, Xallihion's Tentacles of Force will erupt from the surface of the tunnel all around and behind Clotho. The Tentacles quickly seize anything within reach, even the flying Dwarves, and crushes them in their viscious and uncaring grip. Throughout the whole series of attacks, Clotho hears Xallihion's mental voice in her head, This is my might and you will fear and respect it. | Name: Xallihion
Standing at 6' 3, Xallihion has a frail body and is obviously more used to pouring over a tome than manual labor.
Abilities: Xallihion uses Telepathy to communicate with those within a 100 feet radius around himself, as his natural mouth is incapable of producing speech and has very good night vision as his race lives deep in the earth where there is no light. Xallihion's powerful mind also allows him to rip the will from those who are not mentally strong or to send out a wave that can mentally stun those caught in it for a few seconds. Xallihion has spent most of his life studying magic, learning to kill his enemies from afar so that he doesn't have to get his own hands dirty. Xallihion prefers to use pure Force magic when he fights his enemies, though setting them on fire with a Fireball or encasing them in ice with a Frostbolt is also a favored tactic.
Personality: Xallihion keeps his emotions out of the equation and uses cold logic to make his plans and execute them to the greatest effect. When it comes down to it, Xallihion prefers to use cat's paws and minions/slaves to carry out his plans and to keep his own hands from having to get dirty.
Wants/Needs: Xallihion's whole goal is to acquire power and any knowledge of magic that he can
Relationships: Has no feelings one way or another about anyone (subject to change if someone keeps messing with his plans or is deemed to be a useful lackey/scape goat)
Backstory: Xallihion's race has long been hidden deep within the earth, rulers of the land where light has never touched. Holding a middle rank amoungst his people, Xallihion began a quest for power that would end up consuming his world. Xallihion was lured to the surface by his constant search for knowledge and power, with this quest eventually bringing him into contact with the Dungeon Keeper. Upon meeting this powerful creature, Xallihion quickly offered his serves in exchange for knowledge and power.
Other: - |
9,584 | 268 | 143 | 538 | 2,678 | The human village
Inside the household of one of the local plutocrats, the situation was grim. As Balothiss was finally able to breach the door with Torrens' help, several men and even the plutocrat's son were revealed to be waiting just past the mound of furniture and such that barricaded the ruined door. Pointing their crossbows through the gaps in the barricade, they fired and then retreated further inside to reload and most likely set up some sort of ambush. While it might be tempting to just cave in the entire mansion or set it ablaze, causing that sort of damage would kill and destroy everything inside. While it might be a nuisance, taking the rich family as prisoners and thoroughly looting the place might prove profitable indeed.
As in for the plutocrat himself, if one went into the basement he would be found cowering behind a crate or two inside the wine cellar. His wife was currently in some crazed attempt to escape with their children by fleeing out the back door, but she would be lucky if Torrens or Balothiss caught her in the act and merely took her prisoner. With the orcs everywhere and spilling into the city, there was no hope of escape. Indeed, there wasn't much hope of survival and the horde of orcs seemed likely to just give in to their violent nature and kill on sight due to being mostly unsupervised.
Meanwhile, in the plaza the knight was sent flying backwards by Athinar's attack and he did indeed break several bones. Wincing in agony, he could only wait helplessly for the barbarian to finish the deed. As fate would have it, his defeat would not come so easily. One of the guardsmen had at this point managed to reload his crossbow and he shot the thing right for the back of Athinar's knee, where he knew armor was so often weak. Picking up a pike from a fallen comrade, he then charged the man with either a death wish or a stupid amount of bravery.
While that one guard's valiant attack was likely to just cause his death, it would be a distraction. Seizing the opportunity of even just a few moments, several water priests conjured water. The stuff glowed a bit as they chanted, and then they hurled the healing waters at the downed knight. The waters began to wrap around his body and enveloped him, quickly undoing the damage to his body and reinvigorating him with a second wind.
Back at the dungeon
The Overlord sighed as he scried the town with his magic to observe the attack. It would seem that half of his champions had yet to even show their cowardly faces to the fray, content to do nothing. They would be punished if that did not change soon... Athinar's battle with the champion was interesting, but the Dungeon Keeper couldn't help but roar in frustration as his minion failed to finish the downed foe before the mages could get to healing him again.
Rather bored and seething with frustration, the Master began to work his magic. In all the chaos of the battle, nobody was likely to look up. If they did, they might just get a few seconds warning as they saw a great chunk of fire and rock being conjured in the air before left to simply plummet straight down into the square. The makeshift meteor that the Dungeon Keeper sent down would strike perhaps twenty or thirty seconds after the mages began to heal the lord of the town in shining armor. The Master expected it to kill almost everything in the plaza, quite possibly including Athinar, but he had to have his fun somehow. If questioned later, he would even go so far as to call this a test of Athinar's abilities. Or perhaps a punishment for incompetence?
Sighing again, he simply watched with eager anticipation as the meteor rocketed downwards. This should be droll, the Master thought to himself. But then, he suddenly sensed something. Someone was trying to get into contact with him!
Octavian and his friend would have to wait a bit as their Master was truly quite eager to see the result of his work and unwilling to take his eyes off the meteor. But after that was done, he quickly turned to see their message. They couldn't expect him to instantly respond, could they? In any case, he was impressed.
He replied in short order. At first the gladiator might simply sense an approaching magical presence of some sort, but then the Master's familiar and rather sinister aura would be felt and there would be no mistaking him. The shadows in the corner of the room seemed to convulse and spread out, casting the entire room in an unnatural dark and turning that one corner as black as death itself. Well, except for the Master's two red eyes that peered out that that shadowy portal.
"Your work spying on this town was good, but I am recalling you now. Step into the shadows and return to the Dugneo instantly or travel on your own; it makes no matter. There will soon be more work to be done. If the duo did not accept the Keeper's rather uncharacteristically kind offer of simply teleporting them back, it would be hard to blame them. This wasn't the most caring or trustworthy of figures and such portals could be exceeding dangerous.
But then again, his blatant and extremely powerful black magic would almost certainly be detected by the local wizards as he made no attempt to even hide it or conceal his aura. If they did not go through that portal, the local mages would soon be arriving and the duo might have bigger problems. | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,585 | 268 | 144 | 268 | 1,389 | Of the small volley of crossbow bolts fired at Torrens and Balothiss, only one had either the skill or the luck to actually hit Torrens in the leg. The bolt, of course, did not penetrate Torrens' surface, but instead bent about 45 degrees, the blow liberating a shot of bright fire and momentarily unbalancing him. Before he could return fire, though, the men had retreated further inside, and lacking a clear shot Torrens refrained from attacking. In his view of the situation, the inhabitants of the manor would only be able to put up a paltry resistance, and the manor almost certainly contained valuables which would be destroyed if he were to enter the house and burn it down with his presence.
"I think you can take them from here," Torrens said to Balothiss, "If I go in there I'll just burn all the loot. So if you have no problems, I'll find somewhere else to help."
As he turned to leave, his eyes were drawn to a large burning object falling from the sky. A flaming meteor, crashing from the sky into some point in the middle of the town. An earth-shuddering shockwave and a spectacular fireball followed. Torrens was left awestruck, unable to do anything but gape for a few moments. When he did eventually regain composure, he exclaimed, "Where in hell did that come from?!"
If Balothiss had made no objection, Torrens dashed off to the impact site, to inspect the damage and maybe pick off any survivors and feed off the burning wreckage. | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,586 | 268 | 145 | 304 | 2,137 | As Torrens ran off to go find out what the object in the sky had been or whatever it was Balothiss lumbered over to the very front door of the manor and before bashing it down glanced around and he found a group fleeing and Balothiss simply just shrugged they could run but the orcs would probably get them.
And he grabbed the door handle and wretched it off then he produced a ball of flame and held it under his sword heating the blade and once warm enough he pierced it through the wood like butter and then kicked it down.
He walked out into the main hall as the dust settled and he sheathed his blade he listened and surveyed the hall and heard nothing and saw nobody.
"That's odd"
Balothiss thought he would be assaulted by many but he guessed the lord of this manor never really had many guards other than at least twelve to maybe fifteen guardsmen and at least six archers but they obviously we're more focused on the orcs who were obviously giving in to their regular nature.
Balothiss did see a door slightly ajar near a stairway maybe leading to an underground cellar or a wine cellar, he smiled at the slightest thought of Alcohol he could go for an Ale though.
He made his way over to the door and he ducked through looking down to find steps leading down into a dimly lit cellar smelling of mold and slightly aged wine and candle wax.
He looked at the stairs which were stone and began descending them hearing the slight whisper of a grovelling middle age man and quickly hearing nothing after but a quiet whimper.
As Balothiss reached the cellar he saw walls lined with casks of wine and shelves of white wines and spirits and then the head of a balding man behind a crate who quivered and prayed to some god that Balothiss did not know about.
"Stand up naive I have no time for you,"
He stood over the crate staring at the man who was most likely the man of the house and was a plutocrat by the looks and sound of him.
"You will kneel to my master and we will take you as a prisoner!"
Balothiss shoved the crate out of the way and then cornered the man. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
9,587 | 268 | 146 | 1,270 | 2,337 | Octavius wondered of the burst transmission worked, there was no way to tell if it worked unless the keeper responded so they found rather loud ways to keep themselves entertained. In truth he expected an imp or even a telepathic response to either his earing or to Tinkerhel directly. What he did not expect was such a large expense of power to darken the room with his presence and familiar red eyes appear before him.
"Your work spying on this town was good, but I am recalling you now. Step into the shadows and return to the Dungeon instantly or travel on your own; it makes no matter. There will soon be more work to be done.
There was a moment of wistfulness as he considered unfinished plans to deepen the rift and claim his prizes. but those were temporary things he could always claim on his return to the city. He was given an order and he would follow it. At least the keeper would have one loyal and intelligent worker under him.
The two gathered ALL of their things from the simple room with tinkerhell using her electrical magics to 'scrub' the room of hair and the like under Octavius orders and walked through the shadows without even bothering to make themselves decent as they stepped into the gate of darkness... Hopefully they emerged in the main chamber and could begin to dress themselves in the 'safety' of their base.
"Apologies, great one. I have more information to tell you but did not want to complicate the castings or make it too detailed in case another caught it as well. I have brought you the model of the city and as you can see I have painted as much of the details from my reconnaissance in red on red on the back of the tablet rather than carve it on wood. Simple techniques that should have been impossible to detect if not looking for exactly that.
Here are troop names, religions and regions they live in that I could get without pressing issues. One thousand strong soldiers in a ten thousand city. Here are the areas of importance to the people themselves with high traffic, here are the places of military importance. Sadly, I was unable to gain a foot in the thieves guild for you.
We were working to drive a wedge in the hearts of faith to start splitting the city against itself. They were nowhere near ready for a civil war, but we might have worked well to change entire troop movements to being of specific groups of faith. Segregation will slow responses and sow indifference into their hearts when the time comes."
He took a breath from speaking to await the keepers response. While waiting, he put his mind to task and try and see if anything was different from before or if there were any new recruits from when they left. | Name:
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher, "The Dashing Bastard"
Physical Form: "I put the gore in gorgeous!"
6'6" and 300 of tight body tone. Unarmored, he has a score of scars running him over from a decade in the arenas. His eyes are a fine gray with a catlike shimmer of silver in the back.
Abilities:
Curse; The cornerstone of the hexblade, the ability to lay a witches malicious befuddlement upon intended targets. Not an attack in of itself, it is a go-to weakening of the enemy before engaging. He often pairs the curse with a memorized intimidation to follow up and bring most to cower before finishing them off in a single blow.
Resistance; Like a paladin, he can rely on his sheer strength of will to help shrug off attacks to mind body and soul.
Mettle: Those that he cannot avoid, he tries do bear down and endure, taking the lesser of the worlds woes when he has the chance.
Prestidigitation: Because of the hexblade's calling, Octavius' desire to know more about his arcane abilities manifests itself beyond the ability to curse and the he is able to cast minor prestidigitations at will.
(Item) familiar: Where most would bond to a creature from elsewhere for more power, he has strengthened the bond with his sword to a supernatural level.
Aura of unluck: Once per day Octavius can create a baleful aura of misfortune. Any melee or ranged attack made against the hexblade while this aura of unluck is active has a higher miss chance. Activating the aura is a free action, and the aura lasts for a full minute.
Spells: Like a sorcerer, he uses his sheer strength of will to manifest magic in the world. He just severely lacks the dedication most others would possess by this time.
0 Message
0 Dancing lights
0 Mage hand
0 Detect magic
0 Acid splash
0 Distupt undead
1 True strike
1 Shocking grasp
1 Color spray
1 Identify
2 Eagle splendor
2 Flaming sphere
Personality:
Truly Octavius' greatest strength is his overwhelming charisma, wielded as a weapon as much as his sword. He brings it to bear to cow the most stalwart of enemies and draw up the crowds to a screaming frenzy in the arena.
He is a patient man in combat, often letting the others go first before he devastates them.
He had devoted his life to death, Hades specifically, as a way to deal with the loss of his family. But one can only lash out for so long. In time the burn in his hearth grew cold and hollow so he turned to ways to fill the hole, most often drinking and tavern wenches. But in the end he still fell back to his oldest friend, death. Its more of a bad habit than an addiction, but every week he makes his way to some manner of arena to put himself in the ring.
He's smarter than he ever lets on, by no means is he a genius with lifetimes of knowledge. He's just more experienced that he'd like to be in the way the world works. The best thing he always reminds himself 'always assume they are better than you in every way and plan to fail'.
Relationships:
Since his arrival, he has taken a keen interest in Tinkerhel, She might be a nymphomaniac, but he thinks there is a whole lot more going on in her head.
Backstory:
Octavius' tale is not at twisted as many might think. His parents were simple farmers, his grandfather was a retired army officer who was too maimed to bear spear. When his chores were done for the day, his grandfather would train him in a longsword so big the boy needed both hands to wield it.
Suns rose and set for a decade until the boy on cusp of manhood could now wield the longsword in a single hand. But now he was starting to think with the dagger between his knees and had his eye on the girl across the creek. They were promised to each other and their parents agreed to the union. Sadly, the fates have more in mind than a happy farmer.
A merchant cart heavy with goods came to the farm, asking for a night in the barn for a few silver, all was well until the bandits climbed out of crate and pot to slaughter the family. The boy did well by all accounts, with no armor and only a sword older than him to keep himself safe as he killed the bandit leader while the others ran. As he burned the bodies, he was visited by a lady paladin of Hercule and her ancient wizard. One of his first life lessons about the bigger world would be that halflings and dwarves clearly age differently.
She could see he was strong, strong enough to carry her stuff as his squire as he had nothing left for him here, indeed, he had no other ways to go but with them or try his own. He tried to learn magic cantrips from the wizard but had no luck compared to the combat she refined from what his father gave him. She was teaching him how to fight in armor, a skill he lacked, when they came upon a wizard of the dead.
They made their way to the wizards workshop when they came to discover he was just finishing his ritual to litchdom. The paladin took the undead in a full body tackle while the other two destroyed the phylactery, the wizard found it while Octavius shattered the device but it was too late to save her from its evil magic. The magic of the ritual burned its way into him and changed him to his very core.
Other:
His hat he got from a pirate captain to whom he served upon a ship for a year before a monster afflicted her, her hats own bubble of air was her own undoing.
At one time, he came upon a princess tiara as part of his treasure pull from a successful kidnapping of royalty. In order to dispose of the royal artifact, he had the enchantment transfered to a single jewel worn as a third eye and let them keep the rest of the encrusted property one worn by a queen as payment.
While worn, a third eye conceal protects the wearer from view by all devices, powers, and spells that detect, influence, or read emotions or thoughts. This power protects against all mind-affecting powers and effects as well as information-gathering by clairsentience powers or effects.
Given his propensity for tavern wenches and the like, he was quick to acquire a trinket from the temple of Aphrodite The wearer of this blue gem on a silver chain is immune to disease, including supernatural diseases.
Collected from the skin of a displacer beast, he had its pelt fashioned into his sleeveless longcoat with its powers still within the folds.
Worn inside out to hide its value, he keeps a vest once worn by a pyromancer who was dumb enough to think his innerfire was more powerful than a white dragon. Octavius managed to convince the dragon that the vest would melt the beasts home so he would take it far away while the dragon ate the former wizard for lunch.
Collected from a gnome adventuring party, he managed to run three through on his blade but only kept the one treasure.
1) Mount
2) Slumber
3) Phantasmal Killer
A most useful glove he keeps on hand, it once belonged to an assassin who would use it to bring all manner of gear in a backpack hidden in the stitching. When not used to hide his sword from public eye, he is often known to put his hand into a bucket full (20 pints/2.5 gallons) of holy water and secure it away for dealing with fiery or unholy creatures.
Two small but simple rings in his line of work,
A dwarven ring warded to protect the wearer from evil is actually a good choice when traveling with evil on a daily basis.
As powerful as a ring of invisibility, but far better for him as it makes eight more of him appear rather than make him vanish.
Made from the hide of a Steel dragon parading around as a priestess to Athena, she was fought and slain on her monthly hunt while she was fat and full of a heard of sheep they had left for her as an ambush. When crafted into armor, he had the choice to make the leather immune to acid or protect the wearer from poison, he took the poison protection. In truth it protects him as a full suit of armor as strong as platemail but glamored to be debatable levels of leather and hide piecemeal to suit his ego.
A prize from the arenas, once worn by a master of unarmed combat, this rope belt keeps him far more flexible than he ever could be without it.
Acquired from a fellow raider, a barbarian far from home who could outrun almost anything but a cup of envenomed wine.
These boots let him move faster than normal for moments at a time, acting as a blur when speed was needed over power.
Tattoo:
Psychoactive skin:
Morningstar
An lesser weapon best put to use when three feet of steel isn't recommended. He really hopes to replace it with a mace of disruption soon enough.
Shield
There are times when running around half naked with a greatsword isn't the best plans. When he has to play the defensive position, he uses a heavy shield with a depiction of Gaia upon it as she is of the earth as is hades.
Throwing Axe
When he needs to reach out and touch someone. He is also known to take a moment for himself to relax with all manner of pungent herb or alchemical paste into the bowl on the back.
His gift from beyond. Once, when he was a much younger lad, he traveled as a squire under a paladin of Hercules and her elderly wizard friend into the keep of a vile necromancer. Unfortunately there is a big difference between necromancer and a newly formed litch! Thinking quickly, the paladin took her bag of holding and threw it over them both to pop it away into a pocket realm for just a few seconds as the squire smashed the Phylactery on the work table. The litch turned to dust within the bag and the paladin sacrificed herself for the greater good. Octavius had an idea. He had the wizard use his magic to transmute the holy cold-iron plate-mail of the paladin to the litch dust and he had a greatsword forged from the coldiron dust.
This weapon is a Bane of the undead both solid and ghostly. Its supernaturally keen edge can store the simplest of enchantments within its Damascus folds for release at his will.
Why would a worshiper of the god of death have such enmity to the undead? To KEEP them in Tartarus where they belong!
Recently, he came upon a Devil who had a gift for Octavius. It seems the litch he had defeated so long ago had tried to use the phylactery as a bypass from the devils due. If the litch had succeeded it would have been most embarrassing and bad for business. So out of gratitude he offered the man one gift on credit, not the usual freebie sort of thing but the 'finders fee' of a wayward soul.
Thinking about it, he could easily wish to be the most or the best or the richest... but he had seen how that can bite you in the ass with previous people so he chose to keep it smaller, something he could live without; an extra enchantment on his blade. The two bickered back and forth on the who or what to be done but Octavius was rather stringent on not asking for too much, lest he rely on it too far.
In the end he got an idea from an assassin he used to know and had a small ruby inset into the pommel of his sword. This ruby would trap the soul of every victim of his sword for later that he could bring back to the devil for more credit. So far, Octavius cant find a problem with the deal and that bothers him. |
9,588 | 268 | 147 | 1,499 | 991 | These mages that worked their wills on water would soon learn the error of their confidence. The silent image strode toward them silently. As a shadow follows the living. This shade now fell upon his first prey. Drawing the line to his hood and swinging away in an broad stroke. The action made as munch sound, as a portrait depicting the same action. No savior for man, he thought.
Cold stare knew these mages would not change the outcome they were pawns in an game where knights and rooks contend. He moved to the first mage who was closest. Whether he faced the mages back or not mattered little. The blade would aim for his heart freezing him from the inside out. Nothing could stop this. The mages life was forfeit. Another piece to be removed from the game. Staying true to from the specter moved the blade effortlessly and vertically through the mage. In a slow climb to the mages face cold stare was ensuring the ice spread as the edge moved. The reactions to his were inconsequential the image moved to the next mage drawing strength from his fear. | Name: Cold stare
Physical form: Manifestation of 6ft incorporeal image hovering 3 inches off the ground.
Abilities: Necrotizing fasciitis in 3ft diameter when manifested. Moves threw physical barriers. Ghost blade ignores physical barriers, plunged into the living removes the warmth of life. Person actually dies of hypothermia with no physical wound. The air grows cold on his approach and plants wilt only when manifested. Invisible when not manifested. Can be repelled from a area, and blocked from manifesting for 24 hours. Able to see the life force of the living. The dead are invisible, he only sees what he wants to. Has the dead traits of being immune to sleep, poison, death, physical damage, disease, charm, illusion, and additional curses.
Personality: Cold.
Desires/Goals: Driven by the single goal Murdering the human race that let him die in the street. Only in the face of horror do humans find their nobler selves. I will bring them fear as they will never forget.
Back story: Once a champion of the people. This knight of justice fought on their behalf slaying all who would prey on the innocent. No matter the odds this champion would ride forth and right the wrong. Not for king, or queen, but the people. Bandits, thieves, corrupt royalty, cowardly guards, it mattered little to him. Steel was the scales of justice he used to exact forgiveness from the wrong.
After one such crusade against the corrupt band of mercenaries exacting a protection toll (some from the very flesh of the villages youth) in a farming village, this champion put the sword to these villains. Heavily out numbered and taking some cross bow fire he prevailed. Mortally wounded he asked the people for help. The village closed there doors and let him die in the street. The fear they had lived with for so long stayed even after the threat was gone. With his dying breath he cursed, not them but himself for believing that good deeds sowed the seed of fellowship. The villagers later dragged him and the mercenaries to the woods at the edge of town and left them to rot. Years later he arose, from his own death after his body was eaten by scavengers. Cursed to never know peace by his own soul, by the people he devoted his life to protect, by the gods. |
9,589 | 268 | 148 | 1,449 | 5,930 | One moment, Clotho seemed poised to skewer the tentacle-faced monstrosity on her rapier-point. The next, Xahillion's pressure assailed her mind, attempting to overpower her will. Furious that a being would think her nothing more than a minion waiting to be subjugated, Clotho fought back, harnessing her own mental fortitude to repel the incursion. That, however, left her open to her opponent's second line of offense.
When the tumultuous cascade of force slammed into her, Clotho was both distracted enough and slow enough that it swept her up like a leaf in a cyclone. Her body was sent flying back, shrieking, as Xahillion's voice echoed within her head. Unable to concentrate on overpowering his double attack on either the physical or the mental front simultaneously, she was snared by the otherworldly being's tentacles of force, and the humming, reverberating constructs of kinetic energy entwined around her limbs, constricting tighter and tighter. Her carapace began to hive, cracking, splintering, and finally shattering in places beneath the terrible squeeze. With one final, sickening crack, Clotho's form went limp.
The tentacles receded, and Clotho fell unceremoniously to the cave floor. Her shell was devastated, most of it lying in shards around her exposed, burgundy skin on the cold, unforgiving stone, and for a moment it looked like Xahillion had taken down the swarm queen in a single hit. To his credit, it did take her a moment before she began to stir, released reserves of adrenaline starting to flow through her. A little laugh resounded through the tunnel as Clotho stood to her feet and contracted her muscles, allowing the remains of her broken armor to fall to the floor. Beneath her carapace, Clotho looked surprisingly human, skin tone and consistency aside. Her eyes, however, were not human in the least, and her wings began to flutter. ”I can respect anyone strong enough to destroy my shell. But respect will not save you. You have orchestrated your own destruction, for my armor weighed me down. You face me now at my full strength....” Clotho began to vibrate. Around her, doubles began to appear. They were not conjurations, but something far more dire: she was moving between different points in space at such speed that she appeared to be in several places at once. ”With my armor off.”
Doubles filled the tunnel. It was difficult to say where each one even was; one would appear at one position and be gone in less than a second. The air was humming, vibrating and hot as the swarm queen displaced it faster than it could part. This continued for several seconds, and it became plain that this wasn't all some elaborate attack. Clotho was just showing off how futile the situation really was. Finally, with infinitesimally little warning, twelve Clothos appeared around Xahillion and lashed out with punches or kicks from every direction simultaneously. | Name: Clotho
Physical Form: Clotho is a foot taller than most men, with long arms and legs, and has a chitinous exoskeleton that is a dull brown-maroon in color. Four gossamer rounded wings, transparent green with orange edges, form into a cloak when not in use. Her shell forms into a barbaric-style armor around her shoulders, knees and thighs, gauntlets, and chest. Small spikes line many of the edges of her shell. Her face is crossed with seams, her nose is inhumanly sharp, and her wide mouth is lined with razor-sharp teeth. A shock of black hair more like spines protrudes from the top of her head. Additionally, her eyes are a bright, luminescent green, with layered pupil rings. Instead of hair, two membranous mini-wings protruding from her upper back form into a hood.
Abilities: Clotho's wings grant her the power of flight, which she can perform with almost ludicrous speed and agility. Her insect carapace functions like armor, affording her ample protections. Hidden inside her left forearm is the Stinger, which she can project from her palm for stabbing. The Stinger can inject a variety of toxins into a target, all of which are manufactured chemically within Clotho's own glands. Such toxins include 'poison', 'paralysis', 'mutation', 'subordination', 'blindness', and 'calcification'.
Cloth also has the ability to command bugs and parasites. Aside from conjuring flies, hornets, leeches, worms, and flesh-eating beetles, sometimes in vast swarms, she also controls her own minions in the form of Myrmidons, Lambent, and Antlions. These she orders around via chirp-calls, and she has no true leadership ability.
The true combat ability of Clotho, however, lies in her rapier. With a barbed tip, it can slide into flesh cleanly and eviscerate it on the way out. Its flexible blade allows Clotho to lash the tip around when fighting, cutting and gashing opponents as she opens them up for a thrust. Its deceptive deadliness, couple with Clotho's uncanny speed and notable strength, make it a lethal tool of destruction.
Personality: A certain conflict underlies Clotho's convincing exterior. Deep inside she is still Nona, confused and reticent and immature. This directly disparages with the aged experience of the that melded its soul with hers, whose bloodthirsty monstrosity has guided her thus far as a Keeper. The union of the two distinct spirits produced Clotho, a cunning, intelligent imperialist. Clotho is without conscious barring the distant, faint murmurs of the suppressed girl within her, and will kill without question, though good judgment keeps her from exercising this often. Though self-centered, she is more than willing to make alliances and deals for mutual gain, and will even adhere to them—an behavior unheard of among most such creatures.
Wants/Needs: Clotho lusts for power and control. She wants nothing more than to rise through the ranks of her master and become both his most powerful warrior and most trusted ally. Eventually, Clotho wishes to gain the ability to become a Dungeon Keeper herself, though she does not plan whatsoever on betraying her current master.
Relationships: None
Backstory: Clotho was once human, an urchin of Virens. This premier logging town, situated in the Oerwood Forest north of the Saploya river, was home to over two hundred thousand, but never truly to a girl called Nona. Surviving by her wits and her knack for finding odd jobs, she later became reliant on the family of Theo Rosenstern. Theo, playing the nobleman as well as the romantic, sought to feel better about his own clan's success and gain a girlfriend in the process by hanging out with Nona and helping her get by. Ever in need of aid, Nona accepted, forming an uneasy relationship with the boy while trying to make ends meet. From a young age, the Biomancer's Guild of Virens, responsible for the magical acceleration of conditioning of the city's saplings and crops, had fascinated her, but her own lowly beginnings and ineptitude for magic estranged her from the organization.
It was in this stagnation, during her nineteenth year of a woeful life, that a voice first reached out to her through her dreams. Its whispers, low and meaningless at first, grew in strength as she became more desperate, and finally its message became clear: journey into the jungle and find a special insect. After convincing Theo to accompany her, Nona left in the morning to pursue her dream. Hours later, she arrived in an unpeopled lumber camp miles from the city limits. Upon entering the shack at its center, she beheld a nasty-looking metallic green wasp confined in a jar. In a trance, she seized the jar -totally unresponsive to Theo's urges- and smashed it against the ground, freeing the wasp. Immediately it stung her, injecting into her the ancient soul of an insidious being of darkness—Kafka.
The two minds, girl and monster, melded, and in the process her own body transformed into its current state. Long before the modification finished, Theo took to his heels. That day, Clotho came to be.
From there she imposed herself on the forest, thinking to become a force of darkness. Though the self-appointed Vermin Queen stockpiled quite the retinue of mindless insectoid minions, and gave the nearby towns a great deal of trouble, she never quite lived up to the status of an evil overlord. After a botched attempt to obliterate her former hometown caused an army of avenging townsfolk to converge on her lair, she fled south until she happened to find one of the Overlord's bands. After wiping the plains with them, she sought the Overlord's dungeon, and pledged her service to him without question. |
9,590 | 268 | 149 | 1,809 | 47 | As the clones descend on him, Clotho can hear a strange sound, both in her mind and from the creature before her. It is the sounds of laughter, strange gurgling laughter, but laughter none the less. As the clones begin to lash at his body, Xallihion will draw his power to him and form a Shield around himself, Impressive Clotho. If your master has a piece like you, then he very well might be someone to learn from. With the continuous blows to the Shield, cracks begin forming along its entire form as Xallihion holds both of his hands out at the sides in a placating gesture. Shall we call this a draw? For as you are right now, I would have to use all my power and my life to destroy you. His hands begin glowing with the power he is gathering as his white eyes looks at the Clotho infront of him, ready to end her if she doesn't relent, I will make sure my enemy's victory is short lived, but this won't serve your Master and I'd would rather live and meet with him. I will even help you with removing the Dwarves to prove my worth if you'd like. So what is your answer? | Name: Xallihion
Standing at 6' 3, Xallihion has a frail body and is obviously more used to pouring over a tome than manual labor.
Abilities: Xallihion uses Telepathy to communicate with those within a 100 feet radius around himself, as his natural mouth is incapable of producing speech and has very good night vision as his race lives deep in the earth where there is no light. Xallihion's powerful mind also allows him to rip the will from those who are not mentally strong or to send out a wave that can mentally stun those caught in it for a few seconds. Xallihion has spent most of his life studying magic, learning to kill his enemies from afar so that he doesn't have to get his own hands dirty. Xallihion prefers to use pure Force magic when he fights his enemies, though setting them on fire with a Fireball or encasing them in ice with a Frostbolt is also a favored tactic.
Personality: Xallihion keeps his emotions out of the equation and uses cold logic to make his plans and execute them to the greatest effect. When it comes down to it, Xallihion prefers to use cat's paws and minions/slaves to carry out his plans and to keep his own hands from having to get dirty.
Wants/Needs: Xallihion's whole goal is to acquire power and any knowledge of magic that he can
Relationships: Has no feelings one way or another about anyone (subject to change if someone keeps messing with his plans or is deemed to be a useful lackey/scape goat)
Backstory: Xallihion's race has long been hidden deep within the earth, rulers of the land where light has never touched. Holding a middle rank amoungst his people, Xallihion began a quest for power that would end up consuming his world. Xallihion was lured to the surface by his constant search for knowledge and power, with this quest eventually bringing him into contact with the Dungeon Keeper. Upon meeting this powerful creature, Xallihion quickly offered his serves in exchange for knowledge and power.
Other: - |
9,591 | 268 | 150 | 304 | 2,137 | Balothiss picked the plutocrat up by the back of his tunic and lifted him up to eye level the man was trying not to grovel and cry like a baby this made Balothiss laugh gruffly and then he looked around the room and found a man sized sack and then looked for some rope and then he seized the man and began binding his arms and his legs then shoved the man into the bag he cried out in disobedience and the man tried to struggle against Balothiss's strength and failed the man ended up in the bag and all Balothiss heard was a slight angry and annoyed groan.
"Now if you would be so kind as to tell me where you hold your treasures I would be as so kind to cut a hole in that bag to let your stupid little head to breath properly and not suffocate!"
The man was silent and this angered Balothiss who hit the sack hard with a punch the man wheezed then nodded with that then Balothiss looked around for any knifes and found a small crate full of daggers and other assorted trophies that the man probably was hiding and then Balothiss cut a hole so the mans head would stick out.
"How dare you treat me this-"
The mans words were cut short when Balothiss slapped him across the face and then he fell silent.
"I care not for this abuse but I care for my life I will tell you where my treasures are but I will only tolerate you-"
"You will tolerate me you ungrateful fool I hate people like you so what I say goes!"
The mans eyes widened and he looked at Balothiss with fear and then nodded.
"I keep my treasures in two rooms in the manor I have two rooms one is for relics,artwork and assorted heirlooms or inherited treasures and the other holds things which I can't remember it has been a long time since I have entered that area although both are locked I know where the keys are!"
Balothiss patted the mans back softly and smiled then slung the man over his shoulder and then looked around and huffed because this was his first true puzzle and his first true quest and now he felt a purpose. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
9,592 | 268 | 151 | 215 | 1,683 | It wasn’t long before Umbra noticed the other archers and sorcerers focus turn towards him and begin to fire. Seconds before an arrow landed straight in the chest of the man he possessed Umbra quickly left his body. The man now finally in control a loud wheeze before coughing up small amounts of blood. In a desperate attempt to reach out for help from his fellow archers, they fired a second wave of arrows towards the man, finally putting him out of his misery.
Umbra’s attention turned towards the battle at hand between the knight and Athinar. The battle almost going to smoothly, took a drastic turn when the knight was healed by a group of mages. Suddenly a huge explosion, so large that if Umbra had possessed another living being that he may have died. “Was that a spell from one of their mages? Is there truly someone powerful enough to conjure a spell this large this quickly inside such a small village?” Umbra questioned the position they may be in. The ash around him though made it difficult to see, so he had no choice but to wait and find out what truly happened. | Name: Athinar Gol-Gaia
Physical Form:
Tall, well-muscled, and stable, he is the pinnacle of physical perfection, even by the standards of some who would call themselves 'Immortal'. He is 6'8", and weighs at 300 pounds, in his normal form.
In his alternate form, he gains a sentient sword, and a set of armor which is actually part of him. In this form, sometimes his face is visible, but more often than not, he keeps his mask on. He is 7'0" even, and weighs 450 pounds.
Abilities:
Normal Form / Carnage Form - Athinar has decided to forgo magic that affects others, in favor of a magic that supplements his already impressive strength. His Carnage Form is a shell, which looks like armor, but actually is a super-dense exoskeleton. While in this form, he is significantly slower, but is immensely more powerful in terms of strength and defense.
Summon: Carnage Blade - Athinar has the ability to summon his Carnage blade at any time, however it is smaller and less impressive when he's not in Carnage form, although it still is alive, and speaks to him. The blade's name is Requiem. what the sword looks like, except with glowing red runes down the middle.
(Normal Form - Rock Style) Blood Palm - Athinar uses the blood spilled by anyone, including his own, in a fight, to empower his fist's attack.
Martial Arts - Athinar was trained in three forms of martial arts by the monks. However, he is only the equivalent of a black belt in one, and slightly competent in the others.
(Skilled)Rock Style - Athinar stays solid, and in place, for the most part. He uses his fists, elbows, and occasionally trips the enemy, but tries to keep his feet steady. For if he can, not much in the terms of human force can move him, but if anyone has trained in Windstance (or was strong enough), they could move him through sheer momentum and weight transfer.
(Beginner)The Path of the Cyclone - Not so much a martial art as a series of moves, executed one after the other, this unarmed style is used to fight large groups of enemies. There are twelve moves altogether, in three groups. However, Athinar was only taught the first group, and cannot continue the momentum of the Path.
- Leaping Tornado: Athinar lunges forward, landing among his enemies.
- Unseen Tempest: Athinar waits three seconds for enemies to close in, ready to strike.
- Stormblade: Athinar ducks down beneath a man's weapon, and elbows him in the chest/neck area.
- Cyclone Kick: Athinar does a roundhouse kick, tripping all surrounding enemies.
However, these are usually poorly executed, due to lack of training.
(Beginner) Celestial Mirage - This is possibly the martial art that he's learned that he has the most trouble with. It is a kick-based martial art, one that forces you to maintain patience. It's attacks come in bursts, to draw the enemy out, and allow the student to analyze the situation. However bad Athinar is with this, it was still one of the arts he learned from the monks, and he views it as a useful, albeit F*CKING INFURIATING skill.
Personality: Athinar gets intense pleasure from seeing other creature's blood. No matter the circumstances, or whether he is allied with them or not. When he is not getting excited by bloodlust, he is usually a very calm, collected individual, who is quite intelligent, surprisingly. When blood is near, he turns into a vicious man, taking pleasure in drawing blood, tasting it, etc. Afterwards, he is, shall we say, *ahem* easily excitable. If you know what I mean. However, this doesn't mean that he's not smart. He is extremely smart, in his bloodlust, and will be able to craft plans on the fly, if they end in violence and killing.
Relationships:
Emily- Thinks that the homunculus is beneath his attention, generally, unless she does something big and shiny.
That Which Consumes Peace- A fool, disobeying the Boss, but made a nice save, getting Shukra mildly punished.
Ekushka- Hasn't met her yet.
Narza- Is quite fond of the little ghost, curretly.
Shukra- A pompous ass who fails at commanding.
Darkwraith Kor- A good fighter, like Athinar, who shares his bloodlust. Enjoys his company.
Azavarn- Too flamboyant.
Umbra/Christopher- Thinks that Christopher is a bit off, but doesn't know why.
Torrens- Doesn't have any opinion of him, but thinks that a fire demon might be useful.
Clotho- Has a strange fixation on Clotho's chitin.
Twitch- Has disdain for the ratty, well, twitchy kobold. Maybe if he actually did something, he might be useful.
Backstory: Athinar is the reincarnated form of an ex-Dungeon Keeper, banished from his former world, and born to a new life in this one. However, he don't remember shit, and the only benefits were the impressive physical abilities you see today. He was born to an order of monks, who trained him in every combat style, unarmed and armed. However, this revealed his darker secret, his love for shedding blood. Killing them all, he was guided by a voice in his head, who told him that if he joined with him, he'd get to kill, kill, and keep killing. So he met up with the Dungeon Keeper, and started killing.
Other: If Athinar seems too powerful, remember that he was converted to the Dungeon Keeper's cause by him just saying that he could kill people if he joined him. He's not dumb, but he does have quite the one-track-mind, and is quite susceptible to manipulation, in both forms. Like, REALLY susceptible. A novice hypnotist could put him to sleep. |
9,593 | 268 | 152 | 351 | 2,364 | While he lacked the speed of the Swarm Queen normally and he was somewhat slowed down by the cargo that he himself and the imps were transporting, Twich was able to set a surprisingly fast pace through the tunnels that the swarm have craved out into the dwarven mines. In the few places where the tunnel wasn't big enough to safely move the cauldrons through, a bit of digging was done by the kobold to widen the tunnel a little bit more. While it wasn't the higher thought exercises that he enjoyed doing in his spare time, Twich would admit that the feeling of dirt under his claws was relaxing and felt strangely natural.
In the end they arrived at the chamber where Clotho seemed to be staging her invasion of the mines. Letting the imps take a moment to have a break and rest up from their efforts to get the cauldrons here in a timely manner in one piece, Twich walked over to one of the bugs that were milling about before asking "By any chance, you wouldn't happen to be able to tell me where Clotho is? Or even send some kind of signal to her that I've arrived would you?"
It was honestly a fairly good question that he was going to have to talk with Clotho about. Maybe while they were working together on reverse engineering the dwarf's special kind of blasting powder. While he hid it from his face, his inner child was cackling and shouting 'Explosions!' merrily. | Name:
Twich
Physical Form:
Abilities:
Smarter then thou: What Twich lacks in physical strength and size, he makes up for with a cruel cunning, a twisted intellect and a surprisingly strong will.
Alchemist Training: There are only two things that an alchemist needs to be able to do in order to be a good alchemist; The ability to flip a table and be on the other side of it when what they are working on explodes and the ability to know exactly when to do this. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
If you don't want to eat it just because it has some mold growing on it, hand it over.: Twich is a kobold. They can eat just about anything regardless of how rotten its become just fine without ill effect. They are also immune to horrible smells that would make others sick.
Love the BOOM!: There is something about arson and explosions that just appeals to Twich's soul. The fact that he is very good at creating things that explode and set things on fire makes his inner hatchling very happy.
WHY?! FOR SCIENCE!: Twich doesn't always create or tamper with things to make them explode or catch fire (At least, not as the end goal). Often he likes to create concoctions or perform experiments for a large number of reasons, more often then not because he felt like it or just wants to see if the current theory in his head has any basis in reality.
Personality:
Those who meet Twich would surprisingly discover that he is, above everything else, quite civil. Those above or greater then him will get the recognition that they deserve of course but those of equal and even lower standing will be treated with professional, polite conversation when talking with Twich. They will also quickly discover that he is quite 'mad'; His mind seems to operate on a completely different wavelength then everyone around him and he often views the world far differently from other people as well.
If one really wants to see him in his prime however, all they need to do is suggest a possible alchemy or science experiment within Twich's hearing range. The quest for discovery and knowledge burns within him brighter then the flames of hell themselves; Despite this he has made it quite clear to several demons that have offered him deals for knowledge and alchemist/scientific discoveries in exchange for his soul that he is not interested because 'That was the path of cowards and fools'.
Even the most evil of beings would find the calm, professional and somewhat detracted approach that Twich takes with his experiments rather... unnerving. Almost all of his experiments are performed on live test subjects... often without their knowledge let alone consent.
Wants/Needs: A bigger lab, more resources and freedom to explore with his various fields of science and alchemy. First pick of any group of slaves and captives with no questions asked as to why he wants/needs them. The right to take any student that he wishes.
Relationships: Fairly civil, shows the needed respect to those that require it.
Backstory: Twich was born to the Snakebiter tribe, a kobold tribe that had its tunnels located underneath a somewhat poisonous swamp. Taken to be trained as an alchemist rather early on when he showed he had a knack for it, Twich rather quickly learned everything that his tribe knew about it and found himself consumed by the desire to learn more. At first traveling to other kobold tribes to study, Twich soon found himself learning from many of the other underworld denizens in exchange for his services; At times he even found teachers among the more open minded of the surface dwelling races. When he ran out of teachers who could offer him new knowledge, Twich wasn't satisfied. He needed to know more and that meant he needed to create more things to learn himself.
This is rather challenging as an independent working alone... but with the raise of the Master and his 'Hordes of Darkness', Twich found a patron who could make his dreams and desires a reality in exchange for his services.
Other: - |
9,594 | 268 | 153 | 268 | 1,389 | Torrens, walking into the square and seeing the devastation, managed to come to the same conclusion as Athinar. Torrens himself had taken out what must have been the only fire priest here powerful enough to pull a stunt like that. Even if there was another, as a pyromancer himself Torrens would have used a highly concentrated fire bolt to kill a single target like Athinar, not a massive explosion causing severe collateral damage. Whoever had cast that spell wanted to kill most of the people in the square, and had the power to do so. That smelt of a Keeper. The Master clearly did not shy away from sacrificing his minions if there was benefit to be gained.
Although perhaps more incredibly was that Athinar was standing in that shattered square almost completely unscathed in some new eldritch armour.
"Balothiss the Half Giant is raiding the manor," Torrens answered, gesturing towards the manor, "As for the others, I have not seen them. Although, I have not looked for them either."
Torrens looked around again. The human forces had been shattered by that explosion. It appeared that anyone who had survived had made themselves scarce before someone could pick them off. Torrens' brow furrowed as he thought.
"Was there anything left for me to do? I was originally meant to be outside, so I haven't kept track of our objectives inside the town." | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,595 | 268 | 154 | 538 | 2,678 | Upon the arrival of Octavius, the Dungeon Keeper listened eagerly to the elaborated report. Or at least he began listening eagerly, but quickly his attention began to turn back to the battle raging in the village. He gave a quick response, "This information will prove valuable. We will wait a while and see what grows of the seeds of strife that you planted; you have done well. I will have to give you some sort of reward for this, but first, let us pay a visit to the newest lands of my domain."
The Keeper waved a hand, and the room began to fade away. A few moments later, another fiery explosion appeared in the town square. This one came with no meteor or other form of warning; it was just a byproduct of powerful magic that heralded the warlock's arrival. When the dust settled and the flames vanished, the figures of the Master and his company were visible.
Taking a moment to observe the scene and take in all the carnage, he rubbed his palms together and absolutely radiated some sort of sick delight. The cobblestones of the square had been sent flying by the meteor and had knocked down several nearby buildings in conjunction with the fire and blastwave. As in for the defenders that had rallied in the square, most of them were simply gone. Massive explosions didn't leave much behind, though those on the outskirts of the plaza were only crisped as compared to obliterated. A few spatters of blood and burned limbs littered the scene. But for all of that destruction, it seemed like his own minions had managed to survive!
The Master raised his staff and rifts began to appear on the blackened ground. From those portals burst out imps, the little red devils rushing to secure the are and look for loot. Many carried manacles and chains freshly forged from the materials gathered from the last raid; since most of the town's civilians had cowered in their homes, there were plenty of prisoners to take. Notably the veritable horde of little demons was even larger than before. Having nothing better to do with his time, the Keeper had been summoning additional imps using the sacrificial victims he had claimed from amongst the last village's enslaved population. Still, as the little imps surged out and swept through the place he couldn't help but notice how pathetic they were. The imps had their purpose, but they were weak and all looked down upon the miserable things. He would soon need to see about getting some more fearsome and formidable creatures to serve as his grunts.
Casually waiting until the last remnants of resistance were suppressed and all of his champions eventually found their way to the plaza, he addressed his horde.
"Well, this could have certainly gone more smoothly, but in the end it turned out well enough I suppose...of course, without Shukra's guidance the orcs let some fleeing peasants escape. I will need a volunteer or two to hunt them down before they reach another settlement, so that they cannot draw unwanted attention to us. There is also the matter of who will govern this trashpile of a holdfast. And the matter of what to do with those who were too cowardly or incapable of taking charge this battle. Anybody care to chime in?"
It was then that the Keeper sensed something strange. It was certainly powerful and malevolent, but it wasn't his. This being wasn't one of his champions...he turned to look for the source and saw Cold Stare. "Ah, a wraith of some sort! Well, it would seem that you've helped with the taking of this town and avoided conflict with my other followers, or else I would have sensed you earlier. Well, you've stumbled right into the greatest army of darkness that this world has seen! Tell me, would you care to join our band of reapers and conquerors?" | Name: Whatever his real name is, he hasn't told any of his minions. He demands to be called the Overlord, Master, Dungeon Keeper, or simply 'boss'.
Physical Form: He may appear to be just human, a simple warlock, but make no mistake: possessing that frail human body is an ancient and incredibly powerful demon. The demon's unadulterated malevolence is made visible to the eye by the glowing lines and strange symbols that adorn his face, and his crimson eyes that seem to reflect the deepest pits of hell like a lake reflects the moon.
Abilities: The Dungeon Keeper is essentially a demigod; he is aware of everything that happens inside his own dungeon (and with some simple magic he can see what is happening elsewhere), with a flick of his wrist he could incinerate a dozen people, and overall he could match at least five or six of his champions at once, blow for blow. On top of this he is a powerful warlock, capable of performing all manner of black magic, summoning monstrous beasts or brokering deals with other demons.
He has two fatal weaknesses, however: the first is his human form. He is not the sort of demon that is a massive hulk of red flesh; he is stuck within this fragile body, and while he is harder to kill than a normal human he is still an easy target for any that can withstand his might for long enough to retaliate. His second weakness is that all of his power stems from what he refers to as his Dungeon Heart, and so this heart must be protected at all costs. For these two reasons, don't expect to see him fighting much. He'll have his champions doing that sort of dirty work.
Personality: He is ruthless, seemingly without compassion or care for anything. Brutal and valuing effectiveness over all other traits, one of the quickest ways to his good side is to obey his orders and exceed his expectations. He is not much for words, and not terribly approachable either. Still, if one of his minions hatched a devious enough plan, he might at least listen and consider it.
Wants/Needs: He's utterly hellbent upon enslaving the mortal races and conquering the world.
Relationships: Unless listed otherwise, he feels rather neutral towards your character, or hasn't been left with any impression.
Twich - He's watching this one. Twich seems both competent and useful, so the Master likes him.
That Which Consumes Peace - The Dungeon Keeper is rather agitated with him, after the incident with Shukra.
Shukra - Shukra seems rather ballsy and arrogant. Even though the Master took Shukra's side, he still feels that the warlord might need to be put in his place.
Athinar - Bold, and seems like he might be a good leader. While he doesn't necessarily like Athinar, he will humor his request and grant him a few chances to prove himself as a leader.
Backstory: This invasion of his has been years in the planning; for many centuries he writhed in the abyss of the infernal realm, until he finally managed to escape into this world. Then, he lurked in the darkness, always on the run, biding his time until he sensed that the time was right. Now, that time has come, and through various means he's been gathering together a horde of evil the likes of which this world hasn't seen in thousands of years. |
9,596 | 268 | 155 | 1,270 | 2,337 | This information will prove valuable. We will wait a while and see what grows of the seeds of strife that you planted; you have done well. I will have to give you some sort of reward for this, but first, let us pay a visit to the newest lands of my domain.
By the time the report was done, Octavius was Fully dressed with his armor hiding the multitude of scars while tinkerhel remained naked. Clothing Octavius first was an appreciated act of submission, either that or simple placation for him while truly submitting to the keeper. Either way she clothes were a snap to get on, or off, quite literally a snap of her fingers summoned serpentine straps of sable to keep her in place.
A snap was just as long as it took for the keeper to take them to the source of the new carnage. His stomach churned at the bedlam that these others caused. Even with enchantments and experience he was still sickened by the carnage. There was a reason he never went to war, it was to avoid wholesale slaughter like this.
Then the imps came, just as before like an infection of infernal army ants to scour the land clean of any life left in this place. Unsure of any other plans, he kept the greatsword resting on his shoulder while in a protective position over the keeper and tinkerhel on the other side. He watched and waited for all the others to fall in at the lords command.
"Well, this could have certainly gone more smoothly, but in the end it turned out well enough I suppose...of course, without Shukra's guidance the orcs let some fleeing peasants escape. I will need a volunteer or two to hunt them down before they reach another settlement, so that they cannot draw unwanted attention to us. There is also the matter of who will govern this trashpile of a holdfast. And the matter of what to do with those who were too cowardly or incapable of taking charge this battle. Anybody care to chime in?"
Riding the praise, he sought to strengthen the position of his good work by summoning a mount from the wand on his arm. In truth he wanted to be well out of the reach of backlash when the keeper started culling disappointments. Getting away from the carnage would be a relief to his overwhelmed senses as well.
"Please sire, let me ride down the stragglers as time is of the essence." | Name:
Tiberius Octavius Pulcher, "The Dashing Bastard"
Physical Form: "I put the gore in gorgeous!"
6'6" and 300 of tight body tone. Unarmored, he has a score of scars running him over from a decade in the arenas. His eyes are a fine gray with a catlike shimmer of silver in the back.
Abilities:
Curse; The cornerstone of the hexblade, the ability to lay a witches malicious befuddlement upon intended targets. Not an attack in of itself, it is a go-to weakening of the enemy before engaging. He often pairs the curse with a memorized intimidation to follow up and bring most to cower before finishing them off in a single blow.
Resistance; Like a paladin, he can rely on his sheer strength of will to help shrug off attacks to mind body and soul.
Mettle: Those that he cannot avoid, he tries do bear down and endure, taking the lesser of the worlds woes when he has the chance.
Prestidigitation: Because of the hexblade's calling, Octavius' desire to know more about his arcane abilities manifests itself beyond the ability to curse and the he is able to cast minor prestidigitations at will.
(Item) familiar: Where most would bond to a creature from elsewhere for more power, he has strengthened the bond with his sword to a supernatural level.
Aura of unluck: Once per day Octavius can create a baleful aura of misfortune. Any melee or ranged attack made against the hexblade while this aura of unluck is active has a higher miss chance. Activating the aura is a free action, and the aura lasts for a full minute.
Spells: Like a sorcerer, he uses his sheer strength of will to manifest magic in the world. He just severely lacks the dedication most others would possess by this time.
0 Message
0 Dancing lights
0 Mage hand
0 Detect magic
0 Acid splash
0 Distupt undead
1 True strike
1 Shocking grasp
1 Color spray
1 Identify
2 Eagle splendor
2 Flaming sphere
Personality:
Truly Octavius' greatest strength is his overwhelming charisma, wielded as a weapon as much as his sword. He brings it to bear to cow the most stalwart of enemies and draw up the crowds to a screaming frenzy in the arena.
He is a patient man in combat, often letting the others go first before he devastates them.
He had devoted his life to death, Hades specifically, as a way to deal with the loss of his family. But one can only lash out for so long. In time the burn in his hearth grew cold and hollow so he turned to ways to fill the hole, most often drinking and tavern wenches. But in the end he still fell back to his oldest friend, death. Its more of a bad habit than an addiction, but every week he makes his way to some manner of arena to put himself in the ring.
He's smarter than he ever lets on, by no means is he a genius with lifetimes of knowledge. He's just more experienced that he'd like to be in the way the world works. The best thing he always reminds himself 'always assume they are better than you in every way and plan to fail'.
Relationships:
Since his arrival, he has taken a keen interest in Tinkerhel, She might be a nymphomaniac, but he thinks there is a whole lot more going on in her head.
Backstory:
Octavius' tale is not at twisted as many might think. His parents were simple farmers, his grandfather was a retired army officer who was too maimed to bear spear. When his chores were done for the day, his grandfather would train him in a longsword so big the boy needed both hands to wield it.
Suns rose and set for a decade until the boy on cusp of manhood could now wield the longsword in a single hand. But now he was starting to think with the dagger between his knees and had his eye on the girl across the creek. They were promised to each other and their parents agreed to the union. Sadly, the fates have more in mind than a happy farmer.
A merchant cart heavy with goods came to the farm, asking for a night in the barn for a few silver, all was well until the bandits climbed out of crate and pot to slaughter the family. The boy did well by all accounts, with no armor and only a sword older than him to keep himself safe as he killed the bandit leader while the others ran. As he burned the bodies, he was visited by a lady paladin of Hercule and her ancient wizard. One of his first life lessons about the bigger world would be that halflings and dwarves clearly age differently.
She could see he was strong, strong enough to carry her stuff as his squire as he had nothing left for him here, indeed, he had no other ways to go but with them or try his own. He tried to learn magic cantrips from the wizard but had no luck compared to the combat she refined from what his father gave him. She was teaching him how to fight in armor, a skill he lacked, when they came upon a wizard of the dead.
They made their way to the wizards workshop when they came to discover he was just finishing his ritual to litchdom. The paladin took the undead in a full body tackle while the other two destroyed the phylactery, the wizard found it while Octavius shattered the device but it was too late to save her from its evil magic. The magic of the ritual burned its way into him and changed him to his very core.
Other:
His hat he got from a pirate captain to whom he served upon a ship for a year before a monster afflicted her, her hats own bubble of air was her own undoing.
At one time, he came upon a princess tiara as part of his treasure pull from a successful kidnapping of royalty. In order to dispose of the royal artifact, he had the enchantment transfered to a single jewel worn as a third eye and let them keep the rest of the encrusted property one worn by a queen as payment.
While worn, a third eye conceal protects the wearer from view by all devices, powers, and spells that detect, influence, or read emotions or thoughts. This power protects against all mind-affecting powers and effects as well as information-gathering by clairsentience powers or effects.
Given his propensity for tavern wenches and the like, he was quick to acquire a trinket from the temple of Aphrodite The wearer of this blue gem on a silver chain is immune to disease, including supernatural diseases.
Collected from the skin of a displacer beast, he had its pelt fashioned into his sleeveless longcoat with its powers still within the folds.
Worn inside out to hide its value, he keeps a vest once worn by a pyromancer who was dumb enough to think his innerfire was more powerful than a white dragon. Octavius managed to convince the dragon that the vest would melt the beasts home so he would take it far away while the dragon ate the former wizard for lunch.
Collected from a gnome adventuring party, he managed to run three through on his blade but only kept the one treasure.
1) Mount
2) Slumber
3) Phantasmal Killer
A most useful glove he keeps on hand, it once belonged to an assassin who would use it to bring all manner of gear in a backpack hidden in the stitching. When not used to hide his sword from public eye, he is often known to put his hand into a bucket full (20 pints/2.5 gallons) of holy water and secure it away for dealing with fiery or unholy creatures.
Two small but simple rings in his line of work,
A dwarven ring warded to protect the wearer from evil is actually a good choice when traveling with evil on a daily basis.
As powerful as a ring of invisibility, but far better for him as it makes eight more of him appear rather than make him vanish.
Made from the hide of a Steel dragon parading around as a priestess to Athena, she was fought and slain on her monthly hunt while she was fat and full of a heard of sheep they had left for her as an ambush. When crafted into armor, he had the choice to make the leather immune to acid or protect the wearer from poison, he took the poison protection. In truth it protects him as a full suit of armor as strong as platemail but glamored to be debatable levels of leather and hide piecemeal to suit his ego.
A prize from the arenas, once worn by a master of unarmed combat, this rope belt keeps him far more flexible than he ever could be without it.
Acquired from a fellow raider, a barbarian far from home who could outrun almost anything but a cup of envenomed wine.
These boots let him move faster than normal for moments at a time, acting as a blur when speed was needed over power.
Tattoo:
Psychoactive skin:
Morningstar
An lesser weapon best put to use when three feet of steel isn't recommended. He really hopes to replace it with a mace of disruption soon enough.
Shield
There are times when running around half naked with a greatsword isn't the best plans. When he has to play the defensive position, he uses a heavy shield with a depiction of Gaia upon it as she is of the earth as is hades.
Throwing Axe
When he needs to reach out and touch someone. He is also known to take a moment for himself to relax with all manner of pungent herb or alchemical paste into the bowl on the back.
His gift from beyond. Once, when he was a much younger lad, he traveled as a squire under a paladin of Hercules and her elderly wizard friend into the keep of a vile necromancer. Unfortunately there is a big difference between necromancer and a newly formed litch! Thinking quickly, the paladin took her bag of holding and threw it over them both to pop it away into a pocket realm for just a few seconds as the squire smashed the Phylactery on the work table. The litch turned to dust within the bag and the paladin sacrificed herself for the greater good. Octavius had an idea. He had the wizard use his magic to transmute the holy cold-iron plate-mail of the paladin to the litch dust and he had a greatsword forged from the coldiron dust.
This weapon is a Bane of the undead both solid and ghostly. Its supernaturally keen edge can store the simplest of enchantments within its Damascus folds for release at his will.
Why would a worshiper of the god of death have such enmity to the undead? To KEEP them in Tartarus where they belong!
Recently, he came upon a Devil who had a gift for Octavius. It seems the litch he had defeated so long ago had tried to use the phylactery as a bypass from the devils due. If the litch had succeeded it would have been most embarrassing and bad for business. So out of gratitude he offered the man one gift on credit, not the usual freebie sort of thing but the 'finders fee' of a wayward soul.
Thinking about it, he could easily wish to be the most or the best or the richest... but he had seen how that can bite you in the ass with previous people so he chose to keep it smaller, something he could live without; an extra enchantment on his blade. The two bickered back and forth on the who or what to be done but Octavius was rather stringent on not asking for too much, lest he rely on it too far.
In the end he got an idea from an assassin he used to know and had a small ruby inset into the pommel of his sword. This ruby would trap the soul of every victim of his sword for later that he could bring back to the devil for more credit. So far, Octavius cant find a problem with the deal and that bothers him. |
9,597 | 268 | 156 | 268 | 1,389 | When the Keeper appeared, Torrens bowed towards him in as sincere a manner as he could muster. As imps poured out of conjured rifts he stood around and waited until the Keeper was ready to make his address. When it was done, Torrens gave some thought as to how he might be of further service. Governing was not something he was trained to do, or something he wanted to do, so that left chasing down the fled villagers. While he had no tracking skills, he realised that the villagers would be fleeing towards the nearest towns, which would be easy enough to find. He could outrun people fleeing on foot, and if there was a forest, or even thick ground cover, between them and refuge...
"I also volunteer to stop those who have fled. They would be heading towards the nearest settlements, so I can work to intercept one such route." | Name
Umbra
Physical Form
Umbra
Umbra has no real physical form, but rather takes control of various objects most often statues, and in rare occasions even people or animals. In order to get around this Umbra does have a human companion that he uses as a temporary body if the situation calls for it.
Christopher
His companion is a small child named Christopher who is around the age of 7 who stands at just under 4’. The child looks like a normal human commoner, and wears nothing but very simple clothing, a plain white t-shirt and light brown pants (both loosely fitted and slightly torn). Christopher looks very unkempt and often appears covered in dirt and grime.
Abilities
Umbra
-Possess:Umbra attempts to take complete control of the person or object for an unlimited amount of time if successful. If the object is inanimate and is unprotected from magical wards then Umbra can possess it with ease. If he is trying to posses something protected by a magical ward or something that is living than it is slightly more difficult, and if the person is strongly willed or if the object in mention is protected by a powerful enough ward than Umbra will become unable to posses said object and will become unable to repossess something for the next twelve hours.
-Inanimate Possession: If Umbra takes control of an inanimate object than he will be able to move around as that object as if it was another living being, only without the physical limitations of a normal human either, granting him as much as four times the physical capabilities of the average human.
-Living Possession: If Umbra takes control of a living being than he is able to interact with people as if he was one. Though this comes with the risk of failure due to the person’s willpower and their own physical limitations, it is often the easiest way for Umbra to get around.
-Trapped in Purgatory: When Umbra is not taking possession of an object or person he is unable to interact with the world of the living or be seen by those who inhabit it.
-Frozen Touch: If Umbra is able to pierce or cut a living thing or object it will immediately begin to freeze until the person or object is completely frozen (It can take upwards of two days to become fully frozen from a minor cut, but a major wound can take as little time as an hour). The only way to prevent this is from fully happening is by cutting off the afflicted wound, using advanced healing magic or any kind of fire based magic to stop the spread.
-Enemy of the light: When Umbra takes possession of a person or object he is unable to walk around or move in direct sunlight or any source of light as strong as sunlight, as well as unable to leave the possessed body because of it (fire lit rooms don’t affect him). If he comes into contact with any form of shade he is able to continue as if he wasn’t in sunlight.
-Personality Disorder: When Umbra takes possession of a living being he will adopt that person’s characteristics and personality completely.
-Flight: When Umbra is not taking possession of a person or object he is able to naturally fly from location to location at immense speeds.
Personality
Umbra
Umbra is often extremely apathetic showing little care for morality or others around him beyond achieving his own goals and surviving. This makes him not inherently evil nor inherently good, but rather someone who will chooses the quickest and cleanest solution to solving a problem.
Christopher
Christopher is extremely outgoing and talkative for a small child. His childlike behavior is often easily noticed, and sometimes will go out of his way to show this to those around him. He is extremely naive and will attempt to befriend anyone or anything he sees. Much like Umbra, over the couple of years Christopher has spent with him he began to lose any concern over morality. Often seeing killing or other despicable activities as normal things that you must do in order to survive.
Wants/Needs
He has two ultimate goals, to find a permanent body of his own, one that doesn’t age, need rest, or get exhausted, and to be able to move freely in the sunlight. He is convinced that “the master” will be able to one day provide this to him or at the very least find him someone who can.
Relationships
Umbra holds a close relationship with Christopher. The small child being the closest thing he could have to his son he began to grow fond of him. Eventually befriending Christopher.
Backstory
Once a wealthy man named Jackson Rider, Umbra lead a life with little care until he found a beautiful woman named Rosana, who promised to marry him if he proved that he wasn’t only wealthy, but brave. Eventually he came to the conclusion the only way to prove this was to defeat a witch outside of the village, and bring back her head to show all of the towns people. As a week passed by he prepared buying weapons, armor, and potions to eventually defeat this witch.
Eventually the time came and he set off on his journey, eventually arriving within two days. The witch though proved much more powerful than he had ever expected. To her, he was nothing but a mere bug waiting to be squashed maybe even less so. Before striking him down she found it more interesting to curse him instead. “A child born without soul to the newly wed wife. A husband to a weeping woman and a child without purpose in life. Forsaken by god and forsaken by man. Simply to prove one's bravery matches his wealth hand to hand.”
It wasn’t long before he arrived home with feelings of failure and confusion. When he went to tell Rosana of his failure, she accepted him saying “an honest man is more virtuous and worthy of being my husband than the bravest of men,” and so they married. It wasn’t long until his wife told him of her pregnancy and the child was born not long after and was named Christopher. Sadly much like the witch had told him long ago his child was born without a soul.
That day he journeyed to the witches hut, leaving behind both his wife and child. He begged and cried for forgiveness. For the witch to lift the curse on his son. She smiled wickedly and whispered. “Death will be both your salvation and your punishment.” She quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed Umbra through the chest, whispering a chant.
When he finally awoke he was greeted by the witch. “You are no longer man nor are you demon, simply Umbra taker of lives. Forced to walk in the shoes of others and the shadows of the night. Enjoy your son’s soul for yours.”
After many years after that day, how many exactly is unknown to him, he slowly began to desire what he once lost many years ago. Eventually he stumbled upon the dungeon keeper. Sensing his power and strength he decided it would be best to seek his help. They eventually they came to a compromise, if Umbra helps him achieve his goals he will one day return the favor.
Other
-If Umbra is in the body of a living person and said living person suffers a fatal wound Umbra will not die, but rather he would suffer a great amount of pain and will be unable to possess a body for a great deal of time (usually around a couple of weeks).
-There is no real way to permanently ‘kill’ Umbra, rather you can banish him to another plane of existence. While this can be accomplished through powerful spells or other magical means, the easiest way to do this would be to destroy his possessed body completely before the possessed can die. (Note: He can technically leave the possessed body at anytime so this would be best accomplished if he was under direct sunlight, or if it was by surprise.) |
9,598 | 268 | 157 | 1,499 | 991 | It was then that the Keeper sensed something strange. It was certainly powerful and malevolent, but it wasn't his. This being wasn't one of his champions...he turned to look for the source and saw Cold Stare. "Ah, a wraith of some sort! Well, it would seem that you've helped with the taking of this town and avoided conflict with my other followers, or else I would have sensed you earlier. Well, you've stumbled right into the greatest army of darkness that this world has seen! Tell me, would you care to join our band of reapers and conquerors?"
The sound of this one dug into his mind like a scarab. An army of darkness? Being part of something was never his choosing. Many of the people he tried to save were instruments in his very death. Being a part of something that would cull them leaving only the righteous in its wake. These weaken fools only living to let evil thrive. Cold stare was right as he had seen none of them possessed the strength to defend what little morals they had so desperately clung to. How fitting now he had the chance to be a part of this army that would carry out his need to bring truth to the world. His sword faded from his hand. Damn, he had been out of combat for too long and the power he used siphoned his material form he did not panic as he knew this would happen. Cold stare would follow this troop he would rise again. The wraith started to fade like smoke against the wind. Before his cowl vanished his will spoke one word aloud. "Yes." | Name: Cold stare
Physical form: Manifestation of 6ft incorporeal image hovering 3 inches off the ground.
Abilities: Necrotizing fasciitis in 3ft diameter when manifested. Moves threw physical barriers. Ghost blade ignores physical barriers, plunged into the living removes the warmth of life. Person actually dies of hypothermia with no physical wound. The air grows cold on his approach and plants wilt only when manifested. Invisible when not manifested. Can be repelled from a area, and blocked from manifesting for 24 hours. Able to see the life force of the living. The dead are invisible, he only sees what he wants to. Has the dead traits of being immune to sleep, poison, death, physical damage, disease, charm, illusion, and additional curses.
Personality: Cold.
Desires/Goals: Driven by the single goal Murdering the human race that let him die in the street. Only in the face of horror do humans find their nobler selves. I will bring them fear as they will never forget.
Back story: Once a champion of the people. This knight of justice fought on their behalf slaying all who would prey on the innocent. No matter the odds this champion would ride forth and right the wrong. Not for king, or queen, but the people. Bandits, thieves, corrupt royalty, cowardly guards, it mattered little to him. Steel was the scales of justice he used to exact forgiveness from the wrong.
After one such crusade against the corrupt band of mercenaries exacting a protection toll (some from the very flesh of the villages youth) in a farming village, this champion put the sword to these villains. Heavily out numbered and taking some cross bow fire he prevailed. Mortally wounded he asked the people for help. The village closed there doors and let him die in the street. The fear they had lived with for so long stayed even after the threat was gone. With his dying breath he cursed, not them but himself for believing that good deeds sowed the seed of fellowship. The villagers later dragged him and the mercenaries to the woods at the edge of town and left them to rot. Years later he arose, from his own death after his body was eaten by scavengers. Cursed to never know peace by his own soul, by the people he devoted his life to protect, by the gods. |
9,599 | 268 | 158 | 304 | 2,137 | Balothiss carried the man up the stairs with no problems the man complied very well although at times very stubborn, Balothiss had to intimidate the plutocrat into submission.
After a while Balothiss had found both the keys in the plutocrats bedroom where it was in a locked box which he broke open and the plutocrat seemed very upset about that saying repeatedly to himself that it was a family relic and grovelling to himself about moving to the area with his family.
Time passes...
Balothiss was becoming aggravated and annoyed, because the plutocrat wouldn't shut up about his life and how badly he was being treated shouting about his rights as a citizen, Balothiss threatened the man and that shut him up but that never worked for long.
Balothiss came to a large oak door which the plutocrat pridefully explained was a storage room for his treasures, slipping one of the keys into the lock he opened the large oak doors and found himself looking at a room lavishly furnished and smelt of exquisite spices and perfumes, two large iron trunks made of silver casting and fine oak wood probably holding gold and other treasure, he put the man on a lovely couch nearby and walked over to the trunks.
His eyes glazed over when he pried open the trunk revealing the treasures inside, filled to the brim with gold coins and the odd ancient coin, diamonds and other gems, and priceless jewellery the only reason Balothiss was stirred from his stupor was that he sensed the Dungeon Keeper nearby and then a large tremor and heard many screams outside.
He ran to the window a large balcony revealing the courtyard in disaster as it had been before but then looking towards the village Balothiss spotted a cloaked figure standing by Torrens and another, he spotted the wraith Cold Stare nearby.
Balothiss heard his wrathful and powerful voice and he began to shake for fear of the mistakes he made in battle, he looked back to find the plutocrat out of his bindings which lay on the floor and the man holding an silvered longsword decorated with some jewels and the hilt plated with shiny metals, the man had a wild look in his eyes and he swung at Balothiss who reluctantly was out of range.
The plutocrat obviously didn't plan on letting him go with the treasures and certainly would not stand to be taken prisoner.
Balothiss pulled his greatsword from its sheath and he ran at the decrepit fool who was attempting to kill him, he elbowed the man sending him spewing towards a shelf of old books and trophies he crashed into it sending the contents flying everywhere thankfully not breaking anything but the shelf tipped over onto the man who groaned in pain probably the shelf had broken some of the plutocrats bones.
Easily lifting the shelf and moving it off the man Balothiss looked down at the once wealthy man now broken and tangled his legs were twisted and mangled and he probably had fractured something in his waist or back area.
"Thought you could get the better of me eh!"
The man spat at Balothiss, who picked the man up and carried him over to the balcony high above the courtyard.
"I don't need to think of those things,"
Balothiss said with a small grin and he held the man over the edge of the balcony the mans eyes became large and full of tears, and Balothiss continued speaking.
"I don't need to think of them because I already knew I got better of you!"
Balothiss hesitated for only a moment contemplating whether this was the right decision and he decided to put the man to put the man down on the floor of the balcony the man looking confused shouted at Balothiss who turned around and began walking back inside.
"Come back coward,"
The man tried to pull himself with his arms but moved nowhere, Balothiss turned to the man and his eyes revealed cruel intent the plutocrat stopped shouting and became quiet, and Balothiss spoke before he went back inside to start collecting the treasures.
"I don't need to kill you for it is crueler to let you live without the ability to walk!"
And Balothiss walked into the room hearing the man shouting after him pleading that Balothiss kill should kill him and Balothiss only ignored the man, for he planned on walking back outside and carrying the man out with him to the others or leaving him to recount these tales to his grandchildren Balothiss contemplated these things as he began to go grab things to hold treasure, he also was worried whether the Master would punish Balothiss for the mistakes that he had made. | Name: Balothiss "Balo", "The Carver", "The Vile"
Physical Form: Balothiss is 7 ft 5 inches tall and 200 lbs in weight, Balo is a Human with the blood of a Giant in his lineage, Balo has long black hair that he often pulls it back into a ponytail, green eyes and tanish coloured skin, Balo also wears a suit of Obsidian black plate armour with an attached tattered cape, Balo has many battle scars but the most prominent scar is on his face, Balo weilds a large Great-Sword that he calls "Reaver".
Abilities:
-Giant Blood; Balothiss because of his Giant heritage is exceptionally strong and quite durable, he is able to carry, lift and push more than a normal human can.
-Expert Warrior; He is an expert in swordfighting and most other combat skills.
-Magic (Sorcerer); Balo as a young boy discovered his magical abilities as a Sorcerer and has honed his abilities ever since and is still learning his skills.
-Flameing missiles: Balo can hurl bolts of fire at his enemies.
-Light: Can conjure a floating ball of light to provide vision in the darkness.
-Detect Magic: Balo can use this spell to sense other spellcasters, magical traps.
-Berserkers Avater(Unlock Later): Balo unlocks the potential of a Berserker and when he activates this spell he becomes wild and feral using rage to guide his actions and becoming even stronger in combat.
(Balo will learn more spells as he progresses through his adventures.)
-Criminal: He was a criminal before he came to the Cave and he still has a few tricks of trade.
-Reaver: Balo channels his might through his sword and he is able to work in harmony with the heavy blade as if it was a Long Sword or maybe even a Short Sword. ( Later it might become a bit more magical)
Personality: Balothiss is both vile and corrupt only wanting more power, he is also very impatient and hotheaded at times but he enjoys ale and loves combat a lot, he is somewhat reserved and reclusive at times often reading books about magic and often reading many tomes in his spare time.
Wants/Needs: Balothiss is driven by bloodlust and joy of combat but also the lure of power, and fame but most of all he is driven by his goal to become the most potent of all the Sorcerers becoming the best spellcaster ever.
Relationships: Will be filled as RP progresses.
Backstory: Balothiss was exiled from the kingdom he had came from for countless killings of innocents and the brutal murder of the king in front of millions in the gladiatorial stadium, he hadn't killed all the innocents that he was accused of killing it was some of his associates who turned him in because he was becoming corrupt.
Balothiss stumbled upon the Cave of the Dungeon Keeper on his journeys of exile across the fields which are endless and he took refuge there and met the Dungeon Keeper who he feared greatly and held in high respect, more than anyone and he challenged Balothiss to kill a monster as a challenge to take shelter here and Balothiss accepted the challenge and mirdered the beast and gained the title Balothiss "the Carver".
Other: Nothing to add. |
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