Nexus Character Directory

[horngeek]

Emilia

Alias: Regret
Gender: Female
Race/Species: Homonculus
Age: ...technically 5 (appears, and is mentally, about 28)
Alignment: True Neutral, wishes to be Neutral Good, considers herself Evil.
Class/Profession: ...not... sure what to put here.
Description: Emilia is a woman appearing to be in her late 20s, with short brown hair, light skin, and icy blue eyes. She could be considered quite physically beautiful. She wears simple clothing, favoring dark colors.

Personality: To come
Equipment: Not much, to be honest. Some spending money, her clothing... Emilia seems to live simply.
Abilities: Apart from the standard Homonculus regeneration, any other powers of Emilia's aren't very obvious.
Backstory: To come later.

[Morty]

Name: Sophie Mouchabiere
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Age: 27
Profession: Social worker and a hunter of monsters.
Power Rating: C- to C
Description: Sophie is a fairly short, dark-skinned woman of African descent with short, black hair and blue eyes. She is reasonably well-built, but not overly so. She has some minor scars.

Personality: Sophie is a friendly, open-minded person... as much as one can be friendly and open-minded after what she's been through. She tends to assume the best about people barring strong evidence to the contrary. She's also very patient and willing to listen to people. However, there's a darker side to it - she's a bit of a control freak, feeling like she has to take care of and fix all problems, real or otherwise, around her. She also tends to impose her help on people whether they need it or not. It's partially a result of her traumatic experiences as one of the Imbued.
Equipment: Not much. A pair of jeans, a denim jacket, a white shirt, a handgun with two magazines, a first-aid kit and some money. She was transported to the Nexus in the middle of a mission.
Abilities: Sophie has good social skills, knowing well both how to talk to people and listen to them. She also knows a lot about gardening and is a decent shot with a gun. On top of that, she's got the powers bestowed upon her by the Heralds. They are as follows:

• A second-sight type state of mind that she can enter to pierce supernatural disguises and protect her mind from intrusion and manipulation.
• An ability to stop an attack by yelling "Stop!" "No!" or something similar. This attack may be directed at her or someone else. It's an unnatural mental infuence that can be resisted.
• A power to appear reasonable and non-threatening to the person she's talking to. Its effectiveness varies hugely on the affected person's attitude - if they're not feeling strong emotions to begin with, it's unlikely to do anything.
• The power to look into an inhuman creature in the eyes and force it to confront what remains of its humanity by a simple question. The results vary between monsters. As above, can be resisted.
• The ability to heal others by breathing into their mouths - which looks like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Very physically draining for Sophie. This power has an offensive application - Sophie can supernatural monsters of of their power. Mouth contact isn't necessary for it, but she needs to get close.
• A brief glimpse to the future, potentially revealing the best short-term course of action.
• An ability to pinpoint the weaknesses of a supernatural monster.

All these abilities are mentally draining for her, so she tends not to use them too freely.
Backstory: Sophie was born in France and for the first twenty five years, her life was normal - she finished high school, then college and became a social worker and an amateur gardener. However, one night when she visited one of the people in her custody, everything changed.
She found the door unlocked and noone answered her greeting. Worried that something bad had happened, she investigated the small house... and found her charge being fed on by... something. She stood there for two seconds, frozen with shock and horror, when she saw a white light and heard a voice that sounded almost like her own. It said: You're here to help. You're the only one that can help. Without thinking, she rushed forwards, yelling: "No, stop!". And the monster stopped; dragged itself away from its victim. It looked at Sophie in shock and disbelief and ran. Sophie patched the wounded woman up and told the authorities that she had injured herself.
In the weeks that followed, Sophie was convinced that she had gone crazy and started hearing voices and seeing monsters. She was wrong, though; she was one of the Imbued, mortals who recieved a call from the mysterious Messengers, saw the world for what it truly was - beset from all sides and ruled by monsters - and were given powers to fight the supernatural. She joined the hunt and found she was one of the hunters called Redeemers - those who want to help first and foremost, both the monsters and the monsters' victims and are granted powers to that end. She continued the hunt for two years, which is a long time for a hunter, when she and three other Imbued faced a powerful, immoral mage who was sadly beyond redemption. When they entered the mage's hideout, they were set upon by powerful magic and Sophie suddenly found herself in the Nexus, not far from Trog's Tavern.

[Rebonack]

Zee

To most of the people of The Nexus she's Xar'cha Ezekiel Hanna Bath-Manoah. Commonly known as 'Zee'. To those willing to plumb the depths of horrible tomes of forbidden knowledge she is K'rax-Naggath, the Harbinger of Corruption. Her Name in a more proper sense can not be uttered nor comprehended. Though 'Dynamism' seems to be a very rough translation.

She is The Far Chimera. Though many of the denizens of the Far Realms appear as horrible amalgams of beats to feeble minds that scarcely grasp them K'rax-Naggath is unique in the nature of her visage. While she can appear just human enough deflect suspicion this is little more than a mask she crams herself into. Tall and with dark complexion and dark raven hair. Raven hair in a literal sense, iridescent sheen and all. Eyes steel blue. Form and figure attractive, but by no means the sort that would draw attention. And the smile. Always the cheerful smile.

Though unmasked...

Unmasked she appears as a chimeric beast with aspects of bird and reptile and both herbivorous and carnivorous mammal. The precise mix of features will differ from one observer to another.

Though some features remain constant. Her form is encased in obsidian black armor without seam nor joint. Rather it flows with her every movement. Her wings appear as holes in space rather than objects, a field of stars plainly visible through them. Horns and antlers and teeth and claws take on an electric blue sheen. Sigils of similar color are etched into her otherwise smooth skin. Crimson runes crawl across her body like living things. Sunset orange signs flow in ribbon-like processions about her.

And the Elder Sign is branded, burning bright, into onto her hip. It hovers blazing like a star between her horns.

Eyes. Eyes everywhere.

Watching.

But no tentacles. Never tentacles. No, never.

The Chimera's personality is stolen. Taken from the human soul and spirit that went into her genesis. Just another mask to wear. Though most often she seems vivacious and cheerful, always outgoing and ready to laugh. But she feels no human emotions. And she has yet to learn which are most appropriate for a given situation, leading her to rapidly change dispositions at the drop of a hat. Well... No human emotions save one.

Love.

Not a desire to breed. That can be found in any beast of the Far. No, something pure. Untarnished. And it is more often than not the driving force behind her actions. An aberration among her kind indeed.

As for good and evil... K'rax-Naggath is much like her kin. As beyond mortal notions of good and evil as she is beyond mortal notions of the proper use of tentacles.

Eerr... moving on...

K'rax-Naggath is powerful. She is the daughter of Ragnnora, the Mother of Monsters. She is the daughter of Xn-Kxrlth, the Unspeakable One. A fragment of Ragnnora mingled with human soul and spirit, given life by the breath of Deios the Ageless One, the Being worshiped by K'rax' mortal component. This amalgam, this rogue fragment, was mingled with the whispers of Xn-Kxrlth and so the Far Chimera was born. Her timeline grows both into past and future. Though her genesis could be marked in only years by those in the Nexus her existence has already stretched back to time immemorial, matching the lifespan of her Eldritch kin.

Her partly mortal nature allows her to operate on the material plane while her kin slumber in anticipation of the day when The Stars Are Right. And while limited by the state of the heavens The Far Chimera is still a force to be reckoned with. At present her injuries sustained while the Stars Were Right have sharply limited her abilities to interact with the physical world and so she seeks someone to conjure up one of her Star Spawn to inhabit.

She is unbound by traditional laws of motion and unimpeded by barriers whether mundane or eldritch, allowing her to slip effortlessly through spaces unseen by mortal eyes.

Her substance is evolution given form, constantly shifting and adapting and improving. The Bio-Etheric Essence of the Chimera is a living thing, capable of devouring and assimilating most anything. Thankfully it is unstable on the material plane, degrading into mundane bio-mass with time. This is a process the Chimera can control, sacrificing her own substance to repair injured mortals.

The Far Chimera's perception is preternatural, allowing her insights into the near future as well as sight beyond sight. Sneaking up on her is... difficult to say the least.

Her mind is alien and utterly beyond mortal comprehension. Contact with it can shatter sanity and sunder the psyche. Scrying on the beast is not recommended.

And perhaps most terrifying is the Chimera's ability to bend an area into a likeness of the Far Realms itself, tainting flesh and stone and space alike. Thankfully K'rax-Naggath has seen fit to suppress this ability, unwilling to be a pawn in her Mother's schemes.

Even with all this great power the Chimera is not without weakness. Anything that strengthens the Laws of Reality is anathema to her. And like her aberrant Mother metallic mercury eats at her like acid, causing great pain and devastating injury.

Zee's TerrorHorror extended family!
Below is a brief description of various horrible things that inhabit the Far Realms. And some of which slumber in the material planes waiting to awaken When The Stars Are Right. This list is by no means exhaustive.

The Primordials

Spoiler

These are the big ones. Beings of such vastness and incomprehensible power that even the things mortals call gods pale in contrast. It is these that spawned all else in the Far Realms.

Azathoth, Chatturgath, The Daemon Sultan, Lord of Chaos, Father of Substance: Matter/Energy/Chaos. Azathoth is incomprehensibly powerful. Ever when Primordials are concerned. It is mindless, unaware of both itself and its surroundings. And yet capable of accomplishing anything that is possible. Due to its nature it simply takes random actions, usually as inconsequential as causing a pair of sub-atomic particles to begin or cease existing. It is impossible to request power from Chatturgath as it can not sense such requests, but it is possible to draw on the being's near limitless might. When its substance decays in the presence of Reality it converts into high-energy gamma radiation.

Chatturgath's Aspects appear as horrible ten-limbed crustacean-like beings with at least one pair of claws. They have no sensory organs save for a pair of tripartite feathery antenna where one might expect to find eyes. They are highly durable and unnaturally strong, though quite dull. They aren't summoned so much as conjured. When they're created they are given a simple set of instructions which they will carry out until destroyed. The air around them is super-heated due to the radiation they give off and they can project streams of high-energy gamma radiation potent enough to ionize the air.

Mantorok, Nyarlathotep, The Corpse God, The Faceless God, The Black Mist: Death/Entropy/Stagnation. Of all the Primordials Mantorok is perhaps the most malign. It is not uncommon for him to drive followers and the mortal population at large to vast acts of senseless slaughter. In many realities it is the dark power of Mantorok that whispers the cadavers of the dead into a shambling mockery of life. When his substance decays in the presence of Reality it flakes away as mummified flesh.

Aspects of Mantorok are repulsive withered beings with strength that far surpasses what one might expect from their appearance. They always have five limbs, one of which may be a tentacle that replaces the head. Aspects of Mantorok never have a face, but instead sport a yawning endless abyss where one might expect to find one. Facial features are found anywhere on the body other than the head. Aspects of Mantorok can hurl bolts of necrotic energy that cause objects to decay at an astounding rate. If used on a living thing flesh will peel away like the papery outer layers of an onion.

Ulathael, Ulyaoth, Sire of Dimension, Lord of Space and Time, Lurker in the Void: Space/Time/Motion. Ulathael is vast. Vast beyond comprehension. Near boundless in extent. It has little contact with mortals, save for those few who seek to learn the dreadful magic of spatial arrays. It finds itself above the concerns of such beings, though it will freely lend its power to any who devote the time needed to call upon it. One is more likely to find themselves facing a devotee of Ulathael following their own devices rather than the Primordial's mechiations. When its substance decays in the presence of Reality it collapses into singularity.

Aspects of Ulathael look like a horrible amalgam of cephalopod, cnidarian, and echinoderm characteristics. They always display radial symmetry in multiples of various Fibonacci numbers (3,5,8,13,21, ect). They have no obvious sensory organs, but such things are irrelevant when one is omniscient. They are able to warp space and time around themselves in a dizzying fashion, making direct combat difficult if not impossible.

Ragnnora, Shub-Negrath, The Mother of Monsters, The Black Goat with a Thousand Young, The All-Mother: Life/Fertility/Growth. Ragnnora is generally considered to be the most friendly of the Primordials toward mortals. Though that is a dreadful misunderstanding of her aims. Ragnnora seeks to twist all living things into her own aberrant offspring, often employing cultists to sow her seed in the material worlds. Ragnnora will often aid her worshipers by increasing the fertility of both they and their crops. Though what is born is not always natural. When her substance decays in the presence of Reality it melts into inert soupy bio-mass.

Aspects of the Mother of Monsters are as horrible as they are diverse. Though some characteristics remain consistent. They always have nine limbs which range between arms and legs and tails and wings and tentacles. Their feet always sport cloven hooves and they always bare three mouths. Their hide is gnarled and swirls as the bark of an ancient tree. Ragnnora's spawn are able to spew a living energy that can either devour a target or cause it to mutate catastrophically.

Xn-Kxrlth, Ght'lrbk, The Unspeakable One, The Lady of Secrets, The Magnum Innominandum: Mind/Quality/Information. Endless knowledge. Or bottomless insanity. Sometimes both. That is what awaits those who delve into the writings of the mad prophet Malzahar on the Unspeakable One. Xn-Kxrlth sows knowledge of herself among mortal followers, allowing them to make great leaps forward in progress. Though without any grounding in sanity to endure. Eventually they will destroy themselves and a new civilization will stumble upon the ruins. And so it begins anew, knowledge and secrets alike. When her substance decays in the presence of Reality it sublimes into a chorus of half-heard maddening whispers.

The Unspeakable One's offspring cause rampant madness in any who gaze upon them, filling the air with insane tittering and filling minds to the bursting with forbidden knowledge. Her aspects always have six limbs, either wings or arms. Even if used as feet the limbs are arms none the less, supporting weight upon splayed fingers. All aspects are headless with double-pupiled eyes spread over the rest of their body, though most commonly in the palms or chest. Their repulsive skin appears almost human, though in the form of an angular patchwork of tones separated by stark white.

Iog-Sotot, Yog-Sothoth, The Unbending Will, The Beyond One, The Treader of the Threshold: Will/Perception/Magic. He is the gate. He is the key. He is the all-in-one. Iog-Sotot has power surpassed only by Azathoth and wisdom by Xyn-Kxrlth, but unlike his fellow Primordials he has the will to apply both. The Beyond One seeks mortal vessels to pour his arcane power into for reasons all his own and to meet goals both unknown and unknowable. Often the recipients aren't even aware of their horrible benefactor. When his substance decays in the presence of Reality it ignites in a riot of arcane power.

Aspects of Iog-Sotot are vile serpentine beings with rubbery, mucus slicked hide. This skin sports dazzling fractal patters of impossible colors that crawl and warp and shift as they're observed. Limbs are either tentacles in clusters of three or feet like those of a predatory dinosaur. The monster's mouth is always ringed by a trio of tentacles bristling with barbed hooks. Spheres of raw arcane energy constantly phase in and out of existence around the horror, ready to be employed at a moment's notice to devastating effect.

The Old Ones

Spoiler

These are the offspring of the Primordials, creatures of incredible power though dwarfed by the 'gods' of the Far Realms. Many Old Ones slumber, sealed away in tombs on the material plane until they awake when the stars are right. And at the same time they are awake and active in the Far.

Servants of the Old Ones are quite varied. Most feared are the Star Spawn, fractal fragments of their progenitor that carry a small fraction of the power and knowledge of the whole. Cultists are mortals dedicated to the furtherance of an Old One's mechinations. They may be otherwise normal humans or they may be tainted with the Old One's power. Zombies are people or objects that have been consumed by an Old One's power. Though generally mindless they aren't always dead (or undead) but zombies are always dangerous. Scions are hybrids of an Old One and a mortal creature, whether created through some form of breeding or through the metamorphosis of a zombie into a higher state. A person that has been metamorphosed into a Scion, willingly or not, retains much of their original memory and personality, though they gain an overwhelming desire to do the work of their parental Old One.

Abhoth, the Sire of Uncleanness
Parents: Xn-Kxrlth and Ragnnora
Aspects: Life and Quality
Abhoth is the endless diversity of living forms. This being appears as little more than a vast pool of grey slime, constantly birthing innumerable alien creatures. Some skitter away to new life, others are seized and reabsorbed into the mass. Abhoth's touch can reduce any living thing to soupy bio-mass to be consumed into its heaving bulk.

Basatan, the Lord of Crabs
Parents: Mantorok and Chatturgath
Aspects: Entropy and Matter
Basatan is decay, rot, and dissolution. The horrible creature appears as a massive beast that looks like a cross between an ant, an lobster, and a crab. It sports four massive claws and a writhing nest of tentacles at its mouth. Basatan is able to cause foes to rot at an astounding rate, rot and decay that festers forth swarms of crabs.

Cthulhu, the Dreaming Priest
Parents: Iog-Sotot and Ulathael
Aspects: Will and Motion
Cthulhu is the application of motion. It is said that without the dreams of slumbering Cthulhu humanity would have never begun to create tools to move the world around them and impose their will upon it. Cthulhu is a half-dragon half-octopus half-humanoid monstrosity shod in a bony carapace like that of an echinoderm. The Dreaming Priest's abilities focus on warping motion and spatial relations as well as crushing and subverting the will of his foes.

Dagon, the Dweller in the Depths
Parents: Xn-Kxrlth and Chatturgath
Aspects: Matter and Quality
Dagon is the interaction of form and material, lightest touch and crushing pressure. This vile father of the Deep Ones appears as a vaguely amorphous congealing of deep sea fish, human, and crustacean. Its form flows and creeps with features squeezing through it as though under great pressure. Its power can cause things to become flowing and plastic or simply grind them into powder.

Ghatanothoa, the Withered One
Parents: Mantorok and Ulathael
Aspects: Time and Stagnation
Ghatanotha is the time between moments. This creature appears to be a vast writhing tangle of tendrils ending in mouths filled with jagged teeth. It smells strongly of embalming fluid and its flesh has a leathery texture. Its power freezes matter into a form of stasis, causing living things to take on a mummified appearance. The mind, however, remains conscious despite the frozen state.

Gul'ther, the Father of Ghouls
Parents: Mantorok and Ragnnora
Aspects: Life and Death
Gul'ther is the cycle of death and regrowth. From death comes new life. This being appears as a massive, near amorphous mound of living, unliving, and dead flesh that constantly cycles from one state to the next. The Father of Ghouls warps life into death, death into undeath, and undeath into life once again.

Hastur, the King in Yellow
Parents: Iog-Sotot and Chatturgath
Aspects: Magic and Chaos
Hastur is the embodiment of arcane words of unspeakable power. Often Hastur appears as a robed sorcerer draped in yellow robes and wearing a pallid mask to hide his face. In his true form he is a repulsive tentacled lizard-like creature of inconceivable size covered in innumerable sea anemone-like growths. Hastur's arcane power is chaotic and utterly unpredictable.

Ii'lor, the Roots of Destiny
Parents: Ragnnora and Ulathael
Aspects: Growth and Time
Ii'lor is the branching path of possibility. Ii'lor is an incomprehensible tangle of vines and fungal filaments and vast spore-filled fruiting bodies. Its twining tendrils grow through both matter and time. Its power is subtle in its touch, warping the passage of time and the shaping of destiny.

Jer'thoranth, the Holder of Dead Knowledge
Parents: Xn-Kxrlth and Mantorok
Aspects: Information and Death
Jer'thoranth is knowledge forgotten. Not just on an individual level, but on a much wider scale. Jer'thoranth appears as a massive fleshy jellyfish like creature with thick tentacles ending in cruel claws. Clouds of eyes form and unform around the monster's body. The Old One's power can completely annihilate knowledge from existence.

K'rax-Naggath, the Warden of the Veil
Parents: Ragnnora and Xn-Kxrlth
Aspects: Fertility and Information
K'rax-Naggath is evolution. The most fecund shape the future of the gene-pool. The Far Chimera appears as a half-carnivore, half-herbivore, half-bird, half-reptile beast shod in obsidian armor. The precise animals that compose her form change from moment to moment. Her power can consume or evolve all it touches, organic or not.

M'nagala, the Crawling Tumor
Parents: Ragnnora and Chatturgath
Aspects: Growth and Chaos
M'nagala is growth without end or purpose. This horrible Old One is little more than a bloated mass of mucus-slicked tumors and half-formed organs. A mass that is ever growing and expanding. Its deadly power causes the same mindless growth, slaying foes as their bodies are overcome by malignant cancer.

Mor-Kuk'thoth, the All-Soul
Parents: Xn-Krlth and Iog-Sotot
Aspects: Mind and Will
Mor-Kuk'thoth is consciousness. It is the mind that remembers. That recalls. It is the will that directs. And from the two self, consciousness, arises. Mor-Kuk'thoth is a creature of thought. Its appearance is like a cross between toad and a baboon, hunched and crawling, covered in minute cillia. In place of a head it has only a fleshy neck packed with a writhing cluster of pinkish feelers. The power of Mor-Kuk'thoth can rend or remove the very self from the body.

Nugyeb / Yebnug, the Twin Blasphemy
Parents: Iog-Sotot and Ragnnora
Aspects: Fertility and Magic
Nugyeb is procreation. A strange symbiotic fusion of two beings, Nug the female and Yeb male. Nub is a huge bulbous creature supported atop three knobby legs, forever swollen with its spawn. Long tendrils ending in ghostly lanterns branch from its body. Yeb clings to the top of Nug like a crown, fangs sunk deep into her flesh. Three squid-like tentacles lined with talons and cillia sway about him. Its power can fill a creature to the bursting with aberrant offspring.

Oorn, the Implacable One
Parents: Mantorok and Iog-Sotot
Aspects: Magic and Entropy
Oorn is darkness absolute. Darkness given form. Oorn appears as a massive clam-like creature with jagged fangs lining the shell. Tendrils of pure blackness writhe from its body, drinking in all light. The power of Oorn saps all light, leaving only barren cold and cloying darkness.

Psyrrak, the Burning Eye
Parents: Chatturgath and Ulathael
Aspects: Energy and Space
Psyrrak is the star. Not just a star. All the stars. A thing ranging from brilliant solar plasma to black voids of crushing gravity. Psyrrak appears as a black spherical mass with a single three-pupiled eye in the center and ringed by a corona of plasma tendrils. Psyrrak is able to project powerful magnetic fields, incinerate her foes, or simple crush them out of existence.

Zhoathoggua, the The Black Blight
Parents: Xn-Kxrlth and Ulathael
Aspects: Quality and Motion
Zhoathoggua is change in form. From roiling clouds to delicate metamorphosis, all motions of shape are its domain. Descriptions of Zhoathoggua vary widely as no two visions of the Old One are the same save for the presence of amorphous black tar dripping from its body. The power of Zhoathoggua can warp the shape of creatures and objects alike.

[Black Cross]

Aziraphel

Is there something cute or simple we can us as reference?: Not really. Although, he does enjoy it when people call him Sir. Not as a regular thing, it's more like a "Oh, how nice. Etiquette."

Insert sex here: "That's what she said," he replies with a light chuckle. He wipes a tear from his eye and sighs, "No, no. Bad joke." He's a male, if you haven't figured from the context of the previous entry.

Is he a vampire? No. He's an Elan. An he doesn't sparkle like a rhinestone studded David Bowie in the sunlight, either. ...Well, actually he does a little. I wish that movie hadn't almost ruined Elan for me.

How long has he been 17? Aziraphel throws up a bit in his mouth and runs to the bathroom. Apparently he didn't like the reference. He was seventeen for only year, like everyone else who lived to see eighteen. But if we want to get technical, he's lived for a number of years equal to several multiplications of 17.

In all honesty, even he doesn't remember how old he is. Smart people stop counting after a while. Vain people never stop until the Alzheimer's hits.

Are we talking good or evil here?: More like true neutral. He's an observer for the most part, but tends to intervene on behalf of the underdog in uneven fights. He doesn't much care for labels like Good and Evil as they're two sides of the same coin, contrasts that exist in an awkward type of harmony.

What's his vocation?: Scientist, author, shark juggler, underwater basket weaver...in fact, he's good at just about anything he chooses to be. Happens with an INT score that high. (INT score withheld for legal reasons)

Should he really be fighting with anyone?: Probably not. Even gods give this guy a wide berth, if only because it's less costly to avoid conflict. Not to say he kills gods or anything, or even that he can, it's just that they prefer to leave him alone as opposed to get him riled up.

What the devil does he look like?: Aziraphel towers over most folks, standing an ominous six feet eight inches in height. He is, however, not an imposing man. Though his appearance frequently puts people off at first, as he seems human ('seems' being the operative word), his friendly demeanor and his choice of clothing materials and colors help to offset that effect.

To say he is bald is akin to saying that an iron kettle is a large black cooking instrument of considerable versatility. He has taken great pains in making it work and it is often well buffed and polished...er, in a sense. His facial features are delicate, yet rugged while maintaining a strong, statuesque look.

He wears robes of exquisite design, colored a rich blue and immaculate white. The larger portions of cloth are blue, while the trimming is made of silver threading and the patterned designs throughout are of a pure white. Many steel and silver trinkets adorn the cloak as well.

Over this, he often wears an ashen Cloak of Many Pockets, a personal cape and cowl design he fashioned when he decided carrying his valuables with him was more prudent than leaving them laying about for any random thief to peruse at their leisure...and fortifying a stronghold with traps is terribly expensive.

He uses a simple, yet ornate staff as a walking stick. It is simple in its form and function, as it appears to be an ordinary walking stick. However, it is ornate because its natural growth patterns look almost as though they were carved. The natural designs have sparked many debates as to the origin of the staff which, even Aziraphel will bashfully admit he is bereft of that information, as well. ...What? He found it. A guy can't just find something in a RPG? Does everything HAVE to have a backstory?

Character Image:

Spoiler

So, about this guy's personality...: Oh, it's very friendly. He almost never uses his powers for anything other than to assist him in his own research. He does, however, help people who need it...indiscriminate of who needs it.

This is often to the woe of nearby do-gooders who are promptly given a telekinetic B-slapped by Aziraphel, who then have to watch helplessly while the villain runs away laughing. Needless to say, Aziraphel is not a huge fan of conflict. So if, after saving someone, that particular someone decides to attack the people Aziraphel saved him from, he usually destroys that person outright. Don't try to understand why...you'll just hurt yourself.

Wait. What's with this guys gear?: The Cloak of Many Pockets is a personal cloak design of Aziraphel's that he had crafted by a master spell-caster. It is a normal ashen cloak with many pockets sewn into the interior. Each of the pockets, save one, is an extra-dimensional space measuring four cubic feet. The last remaining pocket is a normal pocket containing four compartments with button seals.

This pocket is located on the upper part of the back, near the neck of the cloak. When the hood is removed from the head, it falls over that part of the cloak, hiding its presence entirely. Even when the cowl is up, the pocket is nearly impossible to notice (in game mechanics, we're talking epic level Spot checks) because of the cloak's thickness. This pocket is nearly impossible to reach when the hood is down without alerting Aziraphel to tempering, and is impossible to reach without alerting him when the cowl is up without physically cutting the cloak. This pocket is used to store his four portable holes, which he uses to store items to large to carry in his cloak's pockets.

Each of the pockets of his cloak are enchanted with a modified version of the Shocking Grasp spell, which activates when some one other than Aziraphel attempts to access one of the pockets without speaking the password. This spell function like shocking grasp, except that it the recipient of the attack finds themselves unable to break free from the pocket without a great feat of strength (like DC 40) or disenchanting the pocket (caster level is 28). The cloak, oddly enough, functions inside an Anti-Magic Field.

A recent addition to the cloak's enchantment is the ability to activate a type of glamer effect, whereby it assumed the form of his normal robes, though with a hood and the designs on the vestment are gold instead of white.

So he has powers and stuff, right?: As the world's foremost expert on "the function of psionic abilities on all matter readily available for testing" and "proper application of psionic spacial manipulation techniques to yield a variety of delightfully frightening results" as quoted in his fourth volume Psionics: Mysteries of the Mind Revealed, it can logically be assumed that he should not, in fact, be fighting with anyone other than your typical A - A+ variety characters. Remember, this is the guy S rank characters don't even want to bother. Not that they couldn't kill him, but deities despise having to recover from grievous injuries just as much as mortals do.

Who exactly is this guy?: Aziraphel is an exceedingly powerful Elan psion of considerable intelligence. Having existed for centuries, he has made it his life's work to explore the mysteries of the Multiverse. His travels have taken him to many of the existing Planes, including the near entirety of the Material Plane. As such, he is quite knowledgeable in a variety of subjects ranging anywhere from xeno-science to minor studies in Astrophysics. He rarely enjoys to discuss his work, however, as he uses time interacting with sapient life to form bonds of friendship and a wider net of contacts.

He is also a highly accomplished author of some repute. He is not widely known due to the fact that many of his works have not been published. Most volumes he chooses to keep in his private collection of books, only releasing generally relevant information and books he feels will provide him with entertainment in the future. For example, his widely acclaimed book on Xeno-Science studies involving a particular denizen of the shadowy places of the universe The Grue and You: The Reason There is a High Probability You will Become a Target for Consumption was well received, and it served to help liberate people from their fears of being eaten by a Grue. Hilariously enough, though, this did little to stem the tide of people being eaten by Grue. However, no one is really afraid of the Grue ingesting them any longer.
------------
Character Image used is of Jace Beleren
Original Artist: Aleksi Briclot
TM & (c) 1993-2007 Wizards of the Coast, Inc.

[Black Cross]

Dag Alkothor

Is there something cute or simple we can us as reference?: Dag. He prefers Dag, in fact. Mostly because even he doesn't like saying his full name...which will NOT be typed here. Sad to say, the player has actually forgotten Dag's original full name, as he never used it. It was nearly 14 characters long and was originally meant as a joke name. However, the name Dag was used because one of the player's friends refused to use the whole name. Dag stuck, and his original name was never used again.

Insert sex here: I'd rather not...pretty sure that's like, one of those things that gets you a demerit, or whatever. Erm...Male? Yeah. That's it. If I call him a girl again, he'll beat me.

Is he a vampire? No, but considering he's basically immortal, I can see why someone might think that. The enjoyment of daylight and the complete lack of interest in drinking blood of any kind also tends to dissuade one from thinking such silly things.

How long has he been 17? He claims to have skipped 17 and went straight to 20. Why he skipped 18 & 19 is beyond me. In any case, he's been around a while. Well, "a while" isn't very accurate. Long time. Very long time. He prefers not to remember exactly how long because it makes him feel old...then it's nearly impossible to get the wheelchair away from him.

Are we talking good or evil here?: More like Chaotic Silly. He's a Good natured fellow, but sometimes his logic is so off the wall accurate, that it just seems silly for the first 20 minutes you spend trying to rationalize it. Other times...it's just silly. ...But since we have to center on something, I guess he's Chaotic Good.

What's his vocation?: Professional face breaker. You know...His own, yours, other people's...some belonging to random animals and statues. Depends on his mood at the time. Also, he has a job as a full-time lunatic.

Should he really be fighting with anyone?: No, but he does. He does so with great effect, actually. Probably in the A range in power, the S range in skill, but in the E range in caring about it.

What the devil does he look like?: Dag is a nearly bald individual who stands a little over six feet in height. His head is almost completely bald, save a long, unique ponytail that originates from a three inch circle of hair on the upper back portion of his skull. His ponytail extends in a single braid down to the small of his back. There it split off into three braided tails, each with a single inch spike ball woven into the ends which hang down below his buttocks. Not to worry, though. He's gotten quite adept at not sitting on or whacking himself with them.

His face could be considered attractive as it is statuesque in nature with strong but delicately chiseled features, though heavily pierced. On his eyebrows, the has strings of silver studs and his lower lip has four studs placed in it along the parallel of his visible lip ridge. Both ears have strings of studs running along the cartilage and the lobe, and he has a small ring in his nose which clutches tightly to the medium that separates one nostril from the other.

Dag never wears a shirt, revealing his heavily tanned skin. A bit scary to those who know he used to be quite pasty. He is of a medium build, but heavily muscled with broad-ish shoulders and a visibly strong core. He has a number of tribal tattoos on his torso and arms (just use your imagination until I actually summon the will to type out descriptions).

He wears loose fitting cream colored pants that allow him a large range of leg motion and flexibility, but their surface is rather slick and difficult to grasp. Traditional black Tabi extend halfway up his calves, causing the pant legs to partially cascade over the top of them.

So, about this guy's personality...: It's strange. Always friendly...to people he likes, anyway. To people he doesn't like, well...that's where it gets weird. Sometimes he nice to them, and other times its like his mind has been dominated by a Lovecraftian Horror. He's very helpful, though. Well, he's helpful most of the time, anyway. He can also be a bit cowardly...or rather appear cowardly. It's more of a personality flaw as he can occasionally be frightened by things that he's not actually afraid of normally. When meeting new people he can seem overzealous, hyperactive, and even a bit crazy...which he actually is, in fact, so...erm. Moving on.

Wait. What's with this guys gear?: Fellow has some wicked shackles binding his wrists. It's a four and a half foot length of thick chain, like one might typically find binding rather stout criminals.

"Why is that cool," you ask.

"Isn't that a bad thing," you may question. I'll tell you. It's is completely amazing and totally NOT a bad thing when your chains are not only indestructible, but the thing that grants you your immortality. These shackles glow with a faint white light and are nearly weightless. Well, they're nearly weightless to Dag, anyway. If he hits you with them, you'll know about it. Or, rather, you'll know about it after you wake up, if you wake up.

So he has powers and stuff, right?: If by "powers" you mean unparalleled hand-to-foot-to-face combat skills and a completely unique form of immortality, then yes. The immortality that he is granted by his chains is unique in its function, and a highly undesirable power, by any standards. When he dies, he will come back to life in the spot where he died, or a nearby location where he will not be harmed upon revival. This isn't what makes it unique.

What makes it unique is that his body heals in the reverse manner of which it was destroyed. To outside observers, this seems to happen in a matter of seconds, if not instantly. However, to Dag, it seems to take five times as long as it took him to die in that fashion. Oh, did I mention he feels everything he would have felt during death if he were conscious?

Overpowered? Not really. He takes a variable amount of time to resurrect based off of the seriousness of the nature of his death. Here's a bit of a chart for reference:
Class A Death - De-materialization. Yeah, the big crap. The guy's been red misted. That's going to take about a month to fix and is definitely not going to be enjoyable when he gets pieced back together.
Class B Death - Immolation. Not complete burnage. He's not an ash pile, but he's definitely a crispy critter. About a fortnight. or longer. Also not going to be pleasant coming back from it.
Class C Death - Boulder to the...body? Yeah, crushing damage is never good. We're thinking a week. Gonna be a might uncomfortable on the reverse.
Class D Death - Dismemberment. Yeah, that only works in the movies. I don't care how deep you bury those parts, they're coming back angry...after a few days.
Class E Death - Severe mortal injury. How about a shotgun to the face? Big bore rifle? Decapitation? Those seems like good examples. He'll be back and ready to kill by the end of the day.
Class F Death - Minor mortal injury. Gunshot to the head or heart sounds good. Immediate Regen or after a few hours, depending on the size of the hole.

Who exactly is this guy?: Many years ago, Dag(really long extension I've forgotten) was a monk in a far off mountain temple. Shut up, I don't want to hear the C-word from you. I don't care how overused it is. In any case, long story short because he's over there glaring at me and poking me with a stick to get this finished, he ended up committing horrible acts of unspeakable horror against gods and men during a type of bloodrage. Gods were not happy, but instead of destroying him, they taught him a lesson by slapping chains of "you get to die and get pieced back together painfully each time you do" on him, presumably while laughing hysterically. In any case, they set him loose on the world with the knowledge that the chains would only come off if he committed an act of true selflessness to save the life of another, during the act of which he was to die. Needless to say, he's still upset about that, because it's nearly an impossible request since he can't die anyway. Thus, that puts a bit of a damper on the whole "true selfless act" aspect of it. Oddly, this has not made him a disagreeable person...it's mostly the dying repeatedly and coming back that gave him his occasional moods of grumptastic behavior.

[horngeek]

Lira

Alias: The Tattooed Alchemist
Gender: Female
Race/Species: Human
Age: 20
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class/Profession: State Alchemist
Description:


The tattoos on her arms are like on the guy in this page, although adjusted for her thinner arms, obviously. {{Some spoilers for the manga, incidentally. I'd say not too much of one, though.}}
Personality: To come.
Equipment: Not much notable, to be honest. She carries a silver pocket watch, but apart from that, not much else standard.
Abilities: Lira is an able Alchemist, especially in close combat. The tattoos on her arms are what she uses for combat alchemy- the right arm is used to deconstruct matter, and the left arm is used to reconstruct it. While each arm, used seperately, is capable of amazing feats, both together are far more powerful. In addition, she is also a capable martial artist, using a style of combat focusing on speed rather than strength.
Backstory: To come later.
Miscellaneous: Anything else that you wanna put down.[/quote]

[Murkus]

Fettina

Alias: None. Not yet. Though she doesn't mind being called Tina by friends.

Gender: Female, I think.

Race/Species: Cyborg human.

Age: 22 years of age.

Alignment: True Neutral, I think. Or Neutral someplace.

Class/Profession: Piano player. Bard, I suppose you could say.

Power Rating: Low. Probably not too far beyond human capabilities. I mean, bard. Seriously. E+, at best, and then only in a defensive manner. She won't hold up in a regular Nexus fight without some serious buffs.

Description: Fettina is a spare woman, of average height and unremarkable figure. Skinny as a boy, some might put it.

Her 'flesh' appears to be something resembling sky blue neon lights. Quietly aglow, smooth and soft as skin to the touch. If one were to put their ear close enough, they'd hear a soft humming emanating from the girl. Upon most of her back is etched a pink symbol or tattoo of some sort, in the perfect shape of a huge musical note.

Fettina's 'hair' is a series of angular, neon tube-esque structures. She most-often ties it back in a practical pony-tail. The soft 'tubes' are very warm to the touch. Her eyes, and most of her other insides, appear to glow with a solid pink color.

She can typically be found wearing practical, neo-modern clothing. Something like a tiny piano is almost perpetually being carried on her back. Her voice has a vague vibrating tendency, almost warbly. She often speaks in something of a sing-song manner when happy or excited.

She's gotten a makeover:

Out steps a woman that is obviously Fettina, but rather... drastically changed. Her skin and hair looks like platinum, though the texture swirls and seems to move mistily like liquid metal.

Tina's hair cascades from her shoulders in a shower of gold, silver, and neon-orange strands, shimmering whenever she does so much as turn her head. It's a loose, curved hairstyle that falls around halfway down her slender throat.

The girl's eyes are a beautifully glowing gold-yellow, like two firey stars rather than the neon orbs she had prior. Tina still has a vague glow about her, though it's lessened to avoid making her gaudy, and her figure has filled out significantly. Covering her skin in vaguely circuit-board-esque patterns is a series of golden-yellow tattoos, blunted rectangular lines and swirling orbs and whatnot.

In human form, by Gulaghar:



Personality: You could call her personality 'efficient' at first glance. She strives for melody and harmonic motion in all things, from preparing meals to sex to sports. Even activities she dislikes. Efficiency is key.

Fettina is a peaceful creature. She likes nothing more than to make things. Make friends, make music, make food. Though she can't eat some human foods without unpleasant side-effects.

That whole 'peaceful' bit goes for combat too. The girl is a pacificist, despising most physical exertion in general. She is somewhat quick to anger, particulary from insults, but not so quick to fight. Her loud mouth has gotten her in more trouble than she can handle on many occasions, and she's often forced to rely on more powerful friends.

Anything else, I do believe I'll develop IC.

Equipment: One Elexxion Class Expanding Hard-Light Grand Piano Mark IV. Many, many sets of neo-modern, fashionable clothes. All sorts of nice, otherworldly dresses. A small, oddly shaped pistol with the magazine extending from the barrel just beyond the trigger. A few rounds of 'flash' ammo. Mostly for blinding, though capable of piercing flesh and burning people's insides with ease. A pair of specially made 'sunglasses' to negate her own flashing effect. Given that she only has five or six shots, not all that useful anyway. Perhaps a notebook/diary as well.

Fettina also possesses:

- Three silver throwing knives, each inscribed with a different but similar rune and edged with obsidian. (As long as one is held onto the others will return to the bearer when thrown.)
- An ugly, barbed dagger covered in red runes. (This dagger will cause wound inflicted by it to be much more severe and won't stop bleeding very easily.)
- A set of high quality lock picks.
- Wallet quite full of various currencies.
-A pen with various magical abilities. First, it never runs out of ink. Second, any letter written with the pen will always reach the intended recipient eventually. Third, it helps creatively in some fashion when writing music. Third, it will put down what she wants to write without her actually needing to hold the pen. Helpful, that.

Also, she's been given a metallic green communication beetle by one Madame de la Moy.

Abilities: Maybe some weird hard-light morphing. Talented piano player, though she's still 'upgrading'. Can't shoot much farther than short-range without her accurary dropping to zero. The weapon's just for self-defense, and given that she doesn't like to fight, she rarely has to fall back on it. Maaaybe some minor reality shifting with music that's also partly due to hard-light tech. I dunno.

Backstory: Tina was born the second daughter of one Dr. Otro and Mrs. Zaiya, a wealthy doctor and his augmented bride living in a city-state that was once part of western Alaska. She grew up spoiled, granted every luxury she could ask for. It was an easy, if somewhat hollow existence. Her father was a quiet, busy man, and her mother was an often-absent drunkard and drug-abuser. As a result, Tina and her sisters didn't always get all the attention they could ask for. So rather than depend on their parents, they looked out for one another.

While often arguing and even fighting, the three girls were each-other's best friends, providing the attention that was so absent from their mother and father. The three were very immature, a fact Tina and her little sister Gelley often joke about fondly. They went artificial and got their first augmentations together when Tina was only 12 years old. Tina introduced the trio to a love of music, she herself being a rather talented pianist. For a while, the girls even had their hearts set on forming a band.

As she got into her teens, Tina began to branch out a bit more. She'd been somewhat shy up until that point; her spoiled childhood and isolation from other children had some effect on her social abilities. As a result, she ended up trying some things she shouldn't have to make friends. One of these things was 'Jump' - a common, powerful street drug. She quickly became addicted, a 'habit' that stuck with her for years, and still holds her back to his day. This habit was more than a little expensive, and she ended up having to steal from her own father just to scrape enough cash together. When he found out, she was cut off from using the family fortune at all. He ushered her into rehab, but his hopes were dashed when Tina ran away at the age of 17. She just couldn't manage. And unbeknownst to her, Fettina had become dependent on Jump. Where before she'd gotten off on the smallest doses, now she needed those regularly to feel anything at all. The drug is cheap for a reason.

Not long after, she lied about her age and got a job as a waitress at one of Naitiri's favorite clubs. She'd need to pay for her addiction some way, and dad wasn't gonna help. Her older sister had been sneaking Tina and Gelley in, up until this incident with 'Jump', so it seemed like a logical choice. People liked her. She couldn't get too far on her looks, though - every person there was augmented, including herself. Personality mattered just as much, and she had plenty of that. Before long, she was serving drinks in the VIP section, providing musical and carnal entertainment for wealthy men with nothing better to do. She often got lonely, despite all the newfound friends. Naitiri was long gone, off running security for some corporate land-grab, and Gelley had nothing but bad things to say about Tina's drug abuse. They exchanged more than a few choice words over the years, and the two sisters haven't really been friends since.

Lucky for her, Tina's musical talents attracted the attention of one Kebey Harrel, a singer and band leader for the interworld band 'The Tap'. She fell in readily, drinking in the spotlight, the attention. Money for her habits and a fairly lavish lifestyle weren't a bad bonus, either. They'd hop from frontier world to frontier world, singing for worn-out corporate skeleton crews or disheveled colonists. A falling out with the band (mostly with Kebey) led Tina to strike out on her own. She'd saved enough for it by then. This rampant world hopping led her further and further from her planet of origin, eventually landing her in the Nexus. Ironically enough, this provided her with an express portal home. She regained contact with her sister Naitiri - though things have been a tad awkward, it feels good to be around her again. Tina still hasn't truly reconnected with her father. All their meetings so far have been stiff, awkward. She hopes, one day soon, to apoligize and reconnect with the old doctor. For now, however, she can often be found trolling the bars and casinos of the Nexus, living a hedonistic, self-indulgent existence.

[ApeofLight]

Alias: Hat man, Man of a million hats

Name: Robert "Roby" Hatter

Gender: Male

Race/Species: Hard to tell, but is probably human, who knows

Age: 28, or at least looks it

Alignment: Good, chaotic

Class/Profession: Was a hat maker, still sometimes does it though not very often

Power Rating: It varies on depending on his hat

Description: Robert stands at about 6' 2" is fairly thin and has a kind and gentle face. He has soft thick brown hair and dark green eyes. Is usually wearing a button up shirt of some sort and a pair of nice pants.

Personality: A nice gentleman. A bit eccentric though. He's kind and gentle, a true gentleman. Is a bit short tempered on some things though.

Equipment: A magical hat that changes shape, size, and power ability

Abilities: Has various abilities given to him through his hat

Backstory: TBD

[Darklord Bright]

SISTER MARIGLYTH (and family)

Alias: Sister Mariglyth/Mariglyth/Sister.
Gender: Female.
Race/Species: Goblin.
Age: Her age remains unclear - though it is certainly longer than that of the average goblin lifespan, like the rest of her 'Family'.
Alignment: In the Neutral ranges. The Hands of the Father rarely take sides in disputes outside the family, preferring to keep their archives a neutral ground.
Class/Profession: Follower of the "Hands of the Father", a "Family" of goblins who have sworn themselves to an entity called "The Father". This Family is dedicated to the archival and furtherment of technology, and the eventual immortality of their Family through their augmentations.
Power Rating: C+ to -B - her augmentations make her a fierce opponent, above the capabilities of an average person.

Description: Pictured above. Like the rest of her Family, Mariglyth is heavily augmented, and much of her is inorganic - though nowhere near all. She has a robotic arm, and a pack on her back that is capable of extending and retracting long, spider-like metal legs.
Equipment: Goggles, capable of many kinds of vision and analysis of an opponent's capabilities. Capable of scanning the abilities of tech devices.
A wrist-mounted computer, able to link to the others held by the family as well as the internet itself - also used to hook up to devices to "Speak" with them.
Abilities: She appears to be able, like the rest of her family, to link up to a device and speak with "The Spirit of the Machine". This allows her to understand the device on a level most ordinary people do not.
Upon death, all members of her family become part of a data stream, their consciousness loaded into the Father where he sits unmoving on his throne, to have their very soul 'Uploaded' into a new body. This process is not instantaneous, and may take a long time.
Backstory: The history of Mariglyth is the history of The Father. They were all once his followers, until a disease took his body that he could not recover from. Desperate to save him, they removed his brain from his body, and preserved it within a machine that could keep him alive. However, he was unable to function further, and he vowed that one day he would gain the knowledge to learn how to do away with the need for a body at all, and ascend into a higher state of being. In this pursuit, he would need the help of his followers, whom he would also offer this amazing capability - but he required their help to find and understand it. Because of this, they record and archive technology, revering their "Father" above all else, for they had become his hands. Mariglyth saw this all, and acts like the others as his faithful servant.

The Father, unmoving upon his throne:

Spoiler

The Father is capable of speaking through his Hands, since he is seemingly unable to do many things himself.

[Rotting Baron]

Boris Krestyanov

"Sir, you have something on your face." *bang* "Got it for you."

Alias: "Hawkeye," "Sniper Operative #37"
Gender: Male
Race/Species: Human.
Age: 26
Class/Profession: Spetsnaz Operative (Sniper)

Description: Boris stands at 6'2'', and weighs 243 lb., which results in a quite muscular build. He has black hair, and storm gray eyes. With a rather angular and symmetrical face, some have called him handsome in the past. Not anymore, though, as there is a nasty scar across his left cheek, going straight from his lips, to just short of his ear. There are two other scars on his body: one on his right shoulder, and another on his left hip. Altough nobody has seen it, there is also a brand across his whole back - a hammer and sickle, evidence of his status as a Spetsnaz operative.

Normally, Boris wears clothing that shows his rather casual style. He’ll wear a red, long-sleeved shirt, with a black overcoat worn over it. In addition, he usually wears black denim jeans and brown leather combat boots. When he can, Boris will have his machete slung on his right hip, and his rifle slung across his back. When he anticipates combat, he’ll either be in his Ghillie suit, which makes him look more like a walking bush than a Russian, or his Spetsnaz uniform, which makes him look a little more intimidating.

Spoiler

Art by Mazeburn. Thanks!

Personality: In a casual situation, Boris is often very friendly. He’ll crack more than a few jokes, and generally do his best to make others feel welcome. He isn’t angered very easily, but when he is, his Russian ancestry will shine through, with him grabbing his machete and threatening whoever caused his anger. But most of the time, he’ll be a calm, loyal, and good-natured man.

In combat, though, you’ll find a completely different person. His mind is almost always completely dedicated to any combat he might be in. He’ll talk tactics, and make sure that whatever objective he has is successful. He is much more serious than his normal, happy, joking side. In fact, the person one will find is Sniper Operative #37, of Spetsnaz GRU.

One thing that is common between both Boris and the Operative is his devotion to Communist methods. Luckily for him (and those he might meet,) his form of Communism is the idealist form. He always has his comrades in mind. Not a single decision he makes is solely because of his motivation. If needed, he'd starve himself so that someone else may eat well. If needed, he'd take a bullet for a friend.

As a friendly and generally helpful man, Boris will speak in Dark Green.

Equipment:
-A marble that becomes a dimensional portal when tossed on the ground.
-A lever-action rifle made for him by Cornelia Walsh.
-An old, scoped Mosin-Nagant bolt-action rifle.
-A black-bladed machete.
-Ghillie suit.
-Rucksack with extra ammo, cleaning kit, facepaints, a few other miscellaneous materials, and a change of clothes (either his civilian disguise, or his ghillie suit.)

Since his first visit to his homeworld, Boris now has many more weapons. This is a complete list (deep breath:)

Spoiler

Ballistic Knife, w/ nine extra blades.
Entrenchment shovel.
VSS Vintorez.
AS Val.
Saiga-12.
AK-107.
RPK-74.
SVD.
SV-98.
Skorpion.
Two Makarov Pistols.
(He always carries his ballistic knife and all of his blades. Commonly, he has his Vintorez, his AK-107, his pistols, and his Skorpion.)

Abilities: Boris has absolutely no magical abilities. However, to make up for this, he has some of the best training in his world. He can use just about any firearm at an expert level, able to hit within a tenth of an inch of his target at 500 yards. He is also much stronger than he appears (to the point where he can snap someone's neck without thinking about it,) and well-trained with melee weapons and hand-to-hand combat.

As expected from Boris, if he came across any Spetsnaz weapons (the ballistic knife, the hand shovel, and so on,) he'd be able to use them with quite the proficiency. And because of his training, he's become highly resistant to pain, poison, and mental control.

As another result of Spetsnaz training, Boris can fill many more combat roles than sniper (though that is by far his best.) He has some basic medical training - enough to stabilize a gunshot wound with the right equipment training. He also knows his way around both explosives and electronic equipment. And with his marksmanship, he can perform any direct combat role quite well.

Backstory:

[ApeofLight]

Zeta Omicron Epsilon 5562/ Rato Robot Model 5562

Alias: None yet
Gender: Undetermined, more information is needed before making this decision
Race/Species: Robot, Rato Model 5562
Age: The unit known as Zeta Omicron Epsilon has been in working operation for one month
Alignment: This unit has been programed to follow rules and laws set out by Dr.rato
Class/Profession: Undetermined, more information is needed before making this decision
Power Rating: C to B-
Description: A metal skeleton similar to that of most humans. For the most part has simple plating on the outside hiding most of the metal and wirery bits that makes it up. However it has green trimming on the armor platting and is also more humanoid. This appearance may change though depending on upgrades that Zeta takes.
Personality: Inquisitive, learning, logical, some have described this unit as dry and boring
Equipment: Hidden 9mm pistol firearm attatched inside left arm and a short sword attachment also hidden in its right arm
Abilities: Your character's skills and abilities. What can they do? What weaknesses do they have? It all goes here.
Backstory: Was created by Dr.Rato and was activated just over a month ago.

[ApeofLight]

My Characters of the Nexus(Most Active)

Zeta Omicron Epsilon 5562/ Rato Robot Model 5562

Crissellea Lachonues

Foro

Tebtranlyn Xabaresh Chaeron

Al Rato

Dr.Rato

Cecelia Darshan

Garth Smith

Andrew Light

[Gulaghar]

The Holders

Number	Object	Character in possession	Player
22	Holder of Chaos	Zefir	Zefir
35	Holder of Fear	Nephrim	Earl of Purple
42	Holder of the Star	Feia	ChaoticBob
44	Holder of War	Anya	Reinholdt
45	Holder of Peace	Andy	Zefir
47	Holder of the Bloom	Xifra	Happyturtle
55	Holder of Cruelty	Xifra	Happyturtle
64	Holder of Nature	Zefir	Zefir
80	Holder of Extravagance	Prometheus	ThirdEmperor
81	Holder of Simplicity	Prometheus	ThirdEmperor
86	Holder of the Lens	Feia	ChaoticBob
94	Holder of the Self	Jack Empty	Murkus
119	Holder of Cowardice	Feia	ChaoticBob
123	Holder of Obsession	What	Magtok
133	Holder of Compassion	The Alpha	ChaoticBob
144	Holder of the Cost	Moff Prime	Moff Chumley
155	Holder of Muse	Prometheus	ThirdEmperor
156	Holder of the Shield	Justinian	Wolfbane
176	Holder of Opening Doors	Psi	Haruki-kun
181	Holder of the Five Rings	The Alpha	ChaoticBob
195	Holder of Trade	Xifra	Happyturtle
196	Holder of Penance	Justinian	Wolfbane
227	Holder of Music	Guitar Pete	Project Mayhem
327	Holder of the Western Seas	Gulaghar	Gulaghar
378	Holder of Thirst	Anyu	Haruki-kun
444	Holder of Serpents	What	Magtok
448	Holder of the First Seed	Dr. Adrian Rein/Sarah Rein	Murkus
468	Holder of Synchronicity	Moff Prime	Moff Chumley
485	Holder of the Nibelung	Reserved	Gulaghar
532	Holder of Eyes	Feia	ChaoticBob
535	Holder of Banishment	Isaac	VampireRot
1921	The Blade of Supremacy	Andy	Zefir
2538	Holder of Legion	Mary Legion	Murkus

Object Spreadsheet | Things to keep in mind

[Baeleck]

Mychasi
"Brownies!"

Alias: Mychasi.
Gender: Male.
Race/Species: Brass Dragon.
Age: Wyrmling.
Alignment: Chaotic Good.
Class/Profession: Professional Brownie Devourer (PBD).
Power Rating: D.
Description: In terms of size and general dimensions, Mychasi is a fairly standard dragon wyrmling. He has a large, toothy grin, amber eyes and keen nostrils which are forever hooked on finding the scent of delicious baked goods.
Personality: Talkative and ravenous. His favourite thing to do is chatter. Followed by eating. Like all dragons, he likes hoarding anything precious-looking, though most of what he collects is worthless, if not very very shiny. He is largely affectionate, but is quite adamant that he is not cute and should, rather, be feared. He is a dragon, after all.
Equipment: Minimal. He has a helmet gifted to him by Maph'tey, as well as clothes for on the rare occasions he takes human form. He has some money, which he almost exclusively spends on brownies.
Abilities: Breathes fire. Eats brownies. Has claws. Bites.
Backstory: Mychasi was born from one of four rescued eggs, and taken into care under the slightly-less-than-watchful eye of Baeleck Tarmikos. Trog's is, essentially, his home, and he resides in the rafters there, enjoying the fact that there are always patrons to talk to.
Additional Information: Currently slightly insane, following his being assailed by Alpha, Holder of the Five Rings.

[ThirdEmperor]

Prometheus

Gender: Male
Race/Species: Genetically Modified Perfected Human
Age: He's physically and mentally around twenty eight years old, but he's been alive for less then a year.
Alignment: Neutral SCIENCE!
Class/Profession: Scientist
Power Rating: B to A-

Description:

Personality: Well, Prometheus finally got around to developing a personality, if you can call it that. Between being a massive control freak, an ever growing superiority complex and what is apparently genetic paranoia inherited from Riv, he ain't exactly the most pleasant person to be around.

Gear:

Abilities: Prometheus was born with innate knowledge of over twenty different styles of combat, armed and unarmed. Augmenting this inborn skill is his possession of Object 254, which grants near-perfect mastery of every martial art and every weapon he knows of, making him a formidable opponent in melee, to say the least.

His strength has only increased with time and training, starting at Olympian levels and rising from there, to the point where he can match nearly any in a test of raw might. Outright supernatural beings may still have an edge on him though, at least those graced with unearthly strength.

Finally, his genetic engineering allows him to withstand truly insane amounts of punishment as long as his heart, spine and brain remain intact, his upgrades complete with reinforced bones, reduced ability to feel pain, significantly heightened senses, night-vision and a set of metal claws that can cut through nearly anything with ease.

Backstory:

Miscellaneous:

[Murkus]

Bellan Vraal

...Those great men from the dead place, scorpions that walk on two legs, with voices like thunder and eyes like stars...

Aliases: The Forgiven, though a great many of his people carry this title.

Gender: Male, if one can tell by his voice.

Race/Species: Clan Vraal, once part of a great race of men, the result of unnatural evolution and adaptation. Their flight from Man-home and consequent delves into space and alternate dimensions has slowly warped their forms and minds. They are, in fact, human, on some base level.

Age: Pretty young, at least for his people.

Alignment: Lawful Good.

Class/Profession: Knight Ascendant, a blend of gunfighter and knight/noble.

Power Rating: B. Scaleable.

Description: Realizing that his appearance tends to disgust, frighten or at least distract creatures of this Material plane, Bellan typical ensures that his body remains covered.

He's about ten feet in height, and maybe four feet from arm to arm. Poking out from the top of his cloak is a spiked orange head, arching back and laced across the 'scalp' with a series of organic tubes. These tubes travel from the back of his skull and down beneath his cloak. He has two large, close-set green eyes, the sclera an odd shade of yellow, with black pupils. He likes the colors, and he wanted a visual receptor that could take in light in the same manner as a human. He's regreting that decision now.

Like his uncle Teq, Bellan's face has a broad range of expression, with the mandibles that make up his mouth moving to imitate human facial musculature. It's only when he wishes to eat that his mouthparts spread, extending vicious serrated teeth along their lengths and a tubular tongue, along with two tiny pincers to grasp struggling meals. Ridges and curved grooves color his face, adding to the exotic appearance.

His hand appears to be three-fingered, soft and almost clawlike but for the blunt tips. His left hand appears to have been recently reattached, with a greenish line running around the wrist. His skin his smooth and corrugated in spots, etched with beautiful patterns or strange inscriptions.

Despite his size, Bellan only makes about as much noise as a human while walking. He's slower, though. Likes to take his time.

Personality: He is both fascinated and appalled by a great many things on the Material Plane. He loves to explore, to learn and discover, but he liked doing it more on his home plane.

Traits:

Pacifist: Will only kill or injure another living thing out of absolute necessity, and even then with great hesitation.

Short-tempered: Self-explanatory. This, in tandem with the Pacifist trait, leads to a lot of pent up frustration.

Moral Code: Though he's had his vices in the past, Bellan is perhaps the most moral individual you will ever meet. He is kind, compassionate, and selfless to the point of lunacy. He has bound himself to the Wheel's will, a sort of Vraal code. The code is as follows:

• Death without reason is the folly of the gods, and it shall not be permitted.
  
  Reason without morality is the folly of mortals, and it shall not be permitted.
  
  Morality without reason is the folly of good men, and it must be eliminated.
  
  Seek happiness in all things.
  
  Love all equally.
  
  Understand and defend all life.

The list goes on.

Abstaining: For the moment, Bellan takes little joy for himself. He does not permit much personal happiness, and his elders would frown upon any significant amount of self-indulgence.

Equipment:

-One flawlessly straight longsword, with a blade of grey metal and an organic hilt. Would be an oversized greatsword for most regular humanoids.

-A Yaeva'kal weapon, so named for it's use in the battle at Yaeva. Clan Vraal was forced to kill many thousands of innocent men driven mad by the Forces from the outside. To this day, as far as Clan Vraal knows, there was no other solution. Yaeva'kal weapons symbolize necessary murder - and a knight ascendant's task of judging that necessity. The weapon itself is a short rifle, a black-steel barrel over top an ironwood frame. Ironwood is a metal that grows, a living impossibility. Along the length of the barrel, in golden letters, is this weapon's name. This inscription can be universally read. It appears in whatever the reader's first language happens to be as:

'Wheel's Folly.'

-A notebook carved out of some sort of purple-blue plant matter.

-A set of plate armor that covers his knees, thighs, arms, chest, and head. Whatever isn't covered by metal is covered by a leathery, bulletproof material. Over top of the armor is a strange robe-tunic, one that does not cover the arms or head. Finally, the helmet is entirely face-concealing, in a particularly ornate style. The rest of the armor follows suit decoratively, and the inlaid 'gold' can be changed to other colors at will. It seems to be, at least in part, technological. The joints and edges of larger pieces give off a solid glow, like a strange green light. Each piece tells a different story or shares a different image.

-A bunch of odd things he's eaten. Healing salves, bandages, other magical medical gear.

-A skintaker. It's essentially a small shapeshifting device that crams his massive form into another fully functional body. He often transforms into a pre-human to better blend in. That's a trick he learned from Zee, the former bartender at Trogs. This device also changes the size of his weapons and equipment, which is dreadfully convenient at times. Unfortunately, it also limits his strength and combat abilities to those of his current form. These forms are drawn from the species that bred or changed his ancestors, and in turn passed their genes to him. There are thousands of species to choose from, but the main candidate is human.

-An eye amulet (actual eye) that provides the following advantages:

The amulet will take on different properties once Bellan exits the hospital. His connection with the world beyond (the spirit world) might be enhanced in some way that I cannot describe in addition to elevating his ability to slice through (or, now, possibly even craft) seemingly flawless illusions.

The amulet might only function for Bellan. It regards him as its rightful master and has chosen him to wield it.

-Very little else. Maybe a personal item or two.

Abilities: Strong. Fast. Tough as a truck. Absorbs his equipment into his body effortlessly. Can absorb other materials and use them in other ways. For example, absorbing stone and reconstituting it as an exoskeleton. Can talk loud enough to hurt ears. He has some weaknesses too, but I'll figger em' out later.

Has the ability to access a mystical Well, part of his worship for the Great Wheel. He dips his subconscious mind into the Well and can produce a variety of effects, generally some variety of healing. Healing people, buildings, minds... a great many miracles can be achieved through the power of his people's Faith. There is a limit to this power, though, and when he draws from it, he draws power from other Knights Ascendant.

Backstory: -IN PROGRESS-

[gooddragon1]

Nemesor Zandrek

Character Sheet: http://www.thetangledweb.net/forums/....php?cid=65701

Alias: *Not Applicable*
Gender: Male
Race/Species: Aberrant Alloid
Age: 20 Years (Body age, actual unknown)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class/Profession: Warrior
Power Rating: 11+

Description: Varies.

Equipment: Clothes worn. Sometimes other stuff.

Significant Abilities: See Character Sheet.

Backstory: None

Backstory of another character I had once. (Because I thought it was cool and didn't want to delete it.)

Spoiler

Rathe was born by accident into human form but is actually a member of a barely sentient race from another plane of existence that cannot die but normally just do nothing other than exist. Anything capable of detecting psionics will be able to notice his true form.

Rathe lived on a farm and tended to the animals for most of his life but rarely did anything else. He had a cat and a good family who suggested he study magical arts with his intellect but he never really cared about doing anything but living. When a friend of his parents who was a wizard at a local cabal came to interview Rathe he noted that Rathe had an unusual aura about him. He told Rathe that he was actually a psion and said he would hire a psion to investigate Rathe further. When the psion came with the wizard a few weeks later he determined that Rathe was not completely human and that he was a member of a race of psionic jellyfish-like beings that he had heard legends about from an obscure tome of Illithid lore. Many years later, when both of Rathe's parents had died and he was left to tend the farm, Rathe was abducted by a radical clerical group who opposed all psionics and they attempted to banish him back to his home plane. Because of his unusual nature Rathe was sent catapulting through the planes until he arrived at the town by chance. Rathe has decided to never use his psionic powers in any capacity since that time.

Miscellaneous: Rathe's species is basically a bunch of large sized psionic jellyfish floating around in an infinite demiplane doing nothing. Their tentacles are not harmful as they have no natural enemies and they are psionic because of the nature of the plane they inhabit. Rathe is controlling his human body by tethering his tentacles to it's various parts and moving them in the same space as the organs they inhabit. He is well tethered to his body such that he travels with it, but he might not be able to control his body as efficiently if it were too large.

In another similarity to jellyfish, Rathe's species cannot actually have predators. As such the plane in which they are currently residing holds a massive population of them and that population constantly increases at an exponential rate (a single female can produce thousands of new members within an hour). The reproductive process is not involuntary but they have little in the way of sentience to inhibit it. Also, for the moment at least, they cannot reproduce on planes other than their home plane of existence. Rathe is the single disturbing exception which he hopes will be an isolated occurrence lest the multiverse be swarmed with his kind. His kind swarming the multiverse might not be a problem in terms of crowding as they can move through absolutely everything and do not even physically interact with each other (even during the mating process). However, if they were not completely transparent as is the case on their home plane (they are semi-transparent on their home plane and not visible on others without special enhancements to sight such as detecting psionics) it could be difficult for native denizens of planes to see very far without impediment.

Places Rathe has slept:

Spoiler

[CBI]
[Clearing in the Woods]
[Some Forest Somewhere]

[Skeppio]

Skeppio 'Cybermage' Rexen

Alias: Skeppio
Gender: Male
Race/Species: Human (Cybernetically Augmented)
Age: 21
Alignment: Lawful Good
Affiliation: GLoG
Class/Profession: Tech Mage (Sorceror with wide knowledge of machines)
Power Rating: C / 4
Description: Skeppio is a slightly tan human, with bright blue eyes, head-length unkempt brown hair and a light, lean build. Standing at 5' 7" (around 170cm), he does not impose a threatening presence. The most distinguishing feature of Skeppio is his mechanical arm, attached to his right shoulder by a large metal socket, riveted into place. The steel grey arm replaces his entire right arm, which he lost in a machine accident. Skeppio dresses well, typically wearing a blue tunic with gold trim atop a deep blue robe, along with navy blue shoes. He also wears a bronze cirlet on his head. All of his accessories feature gear motifs.
Personality: Skeppio is optimistic and friendly. He is eager to assist others and generally make friends. Skeppio loves machines, and can build a variety of gadgets from little components. He tends to travel lightly, and favours light weapons. Lacking in physical strength, he prefers to deal with threats with his offensive magic, leaving the physical combat to his robotic guardians should he have any. Skeppio prefers order over chaos and has some trouble understanding truly chaotic people.
Equipment: A steel mechanical arm (plus shoulder socket), a blue-tunic with Skeppio's symbol, a deep blue robe, navy-coloured leather boots (with blue laces), a laser pistol, a bronze circlet adorned with small cogs, and some money. Skeppio also carries a very interesting item, a wallet that contains as much money as he needs but not as much as he wants.
Abilities: Skeppio has a variety of offensive and defensive spells from his development of his sorcerous talents. He prefers to use electrical or ice related spells, and loves small trick spells. His magic is used to offset his poor combat ability. In an emergency, Skeppio's arm can be overloaded, and used as a ranged explosive, although Skeppio very rarely chooses to do so.
Backstory: Skeppio is a sorceror and fancier of technology who lived on a distant world, a small planet blanketed in ice and snow, named Ribo. Ribo also happened to be the resting place of countless stores of lost technology, which Skeppio researched diligently. Through an experiment gone awry involving teleporters and energy cells, Skeppio was sucked into an interdimensional portal, leaving him stranded in another world without any of his machines. He emerged in a quiet alleyway right near Trog's Tavern.

[Eadin]

Elisabeth “Eadin” Seiren
Alias: Eadin
Gender: female
Race/Species: Hydriad
Age: A few hundred years, looks like she’s 20.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Class/Profession: NA
Power Rating: /
Description: Elisabeth is around 5’6” tall. She has dark brown hair reaching her shoulders, her bangs almost reach her eyes. She’s thin but not skinny, not lacking feminine features. . She has a pale complexion with a very faint blue hue, and deep dark blue eyes. Her tail is jade coloured with a dark blue hue. Somewhat of an otherworldly beauty.
Not a fish!
Personality: Pretty absent-minded. Like her alignment says, she’s a free spirit.Pretty selfish, prone to mood swings. Flirty.
Equipment: She usually wears some kind of light robe and leggings. Has a leather belt with a pouch in which she keeps her belongings and money. Wears waterlilies in her hair.
Always keeps a dagger underneath her robe
Abilities: Water manipulation. Can change into a mermaid when in contact with water (doesn’t happen automatically) and can breathe underwater. Minor healing abilities (non-lethal wounds). Can't die from illness and old age.
Other: Soul-bound to Galinai, is no longer immortal.

[Harnel]

Torg

Alias: None
Gender: Male
Race/Species: Troll
Age: 21
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class/Profession: Clan warrior
Power Rating: C+
Description: well muscled, even for a troll, Torg is a warrior through and through. he has the signature troll ponch, but that just adds weight to him. He has shaggy black hair and wears armor around his shoulders, waist, and ankles, making it double as a loincloth. He also has a massive club on hand most of the time, though he doesn't always need it because of his deadly claws and teeth

Oh yeah, and He smells pretty horrible too, what with having lived in a marsh and being unwashed most of the time
Personality: Torg is a rare troll that understands that other creatures fear being hurt, and has dedicated his life to protecting those who can't regenerate like he can. He can get a bit silly in attempting to protect others, but he is very much a willful and capable individual who tries his best to help people, whether that be with mundane things or defending their lives. For the most part, the only reward he wants for such behavior is food. Feed him, and he's a happy troll, but threaten people and he will destroy you.
Equipment: He has the armor and club described above, but beyond that he doesn't own a thing. Well, except his holy symbol of Pelor, which gives him a little resistance to fire. Not much, but it's there.
Abilities: Beyond his actually quite considerable skills in fighting, He has the troll's signature ability of regeneration. In fact, he could get his head cut off and it'll grow back within less than half an hour. Without hair, which he would destroy his opponent for, but any limb lost will regenerate in a similar manner. Keeping in mind, however, that acid and fire he'll only heal at a normal speed regarding being injured by them.
Backstory: To Come Later

[TechnoScrabble]

Rho

Gender: Programmed as male.
Species: Robot
Age: 12 years
Alignment: Whatever Phil wants.
Description:

Spoiler

Originally Posted by TechnoScrabble

Scrapyard

"Thanks," Phil smiles and Rho withdraws his hand, beeping happily and seeming to smile without a mouth.
"Rho, show Harnel what I've installed so far."
Rho nods, turning in his seating, then takes a step back. The plates that are meant to move flip, roll, and slide out of the way, allowing a variety of cameras, power cables, USB ports, areas for hooking up various other electronics, short-barreled guns, some small rockets, smaller robots that can be detached, generators, screens, recording devices , blinking lights, and small motors that seem to be used for control of flight direction. A bigger pair of motors pops out the back, as well as a well-padded seat about Phil's size.
"He's also got some minor shielding systems, and can see in the entire known electromagnetic spectrum, as well as most radiation types that travel in wave form. I just need to add a voice and finish my networking system so that he can take indirect control of the rest of my robots."

Originally Posted by TechnoScrabble

Scrapyard

Phil is about, followed by a large walking machine. Both seem to be ignoring what's going on in the rest of the city. The machine is a humanoid robot, seven feet tall, hunched over slightly, no head, with large, ovoid and shining black forearms and lower legs as thick as tree trunks. The legs have feet made up of a circle of five flat but wide short toes for balance, and each arm ends with five long, sausage thick silver fingers made of thick bunches of wires. The upper arms and legs are only about as thick as human ones, and are made of a silvery metal and wrapped in bunches of wires of various colors. The body is shining black with a single shining dark blue stripe running top to bottom form the left shoulder to the left leg, and is shaped like some large, hulking torso. The torso is made up of three pieces, the lower area, and two areas that could be defined as 'pecs'. There are several plates that look like they could flip up or slide out of place to reveal something hidden within. Plugged into the torso, near the top, and snugly nestled into a comfortable looking spherical crevice, is a light gray and deep red robot shaped like a fist sized 20 sided die with several antennae and extra bits attached to it and a single red camera lense eye that's skewed to the right a bit.

Every once in a while, Phil finds a good looking piece and hands it to the robot.

Personality: Playful, prone to showing off, easily distracted if bored, and completely loyal to Phil. Has the social skills and learning capacity, but has a super computer for a brain and the combat skills of some of history's greatest recorded power suit warriors when in his suit. Has a thing for dramatic timing and can be remarkably wise, grim, or mature at times.
Abilities: Basic hovering robot scout stuff, though his battle suit makes him an experienced fighter.
Equipment: A large external suit that has a variety of different weapons and tools installed.
Backstory: Was the first robot Phil ever made when Phil was just a child, and has gone through multiple upgrades, hardware and software changes, and reboots since then. Is the most receptive to Phil's magic, and no matter how times Rho is rebooted, 'he' is always quickly sentient again thanks to the side effects of Phil's powers.

[BladeofOblivion]

Jacques Dreyfus

"Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat."

Alias: "The Strategist"
Gender: Male
Race/Species: Human, though his enemies might profess otherwise.
Age: 36
Alignment: Lawful Neutral, or Blue/White/Black, for all you other color wheel lovers.
Class/Profession: Tactician/Strategist
Power Rating: D+. Due to the nature of his abilities, however, he is far more dangerous than this ranking might suggest. He is a strategist first and foremost, so whatever allies he might have are going to be far more dangerous in contact with him than they otherwise would be. Still, he can aim a pistol well enough to deal significant damage.
Description: He usually wears Civilian Clothing, with a holster attached to his belt. He wears a pair of glasses, as he is near-sighted. He has short, straight brown hair, and has a french accent. He is Caucasian, and of average height and weight. In fact, he looks average enough where most people would be utterly surprised when he utterly trounces them in a game of chess.
Personality: He has a tendency to apply Sun Tzu's The Art of War to everything he says or does. That alone should tell you all you need to know. He is a thoughtful person, and genuinely interested in preserving life, though he can be incredibly ruthless in pursuing that goal.
Equipment: He carries no notable equipment, other than his pistol and a few clips worth of ammunition. He also carries a pocketbook edition of Sun Tzu's The Art of War with him at all times, though he never references it. He has it memorized.
He has recently acquired a fairly large supply of ammunition, including Hollow Point, Armor-Piercing, and Thermonuclear .44 cal. Rounds.
Much more recently, he has acquired some actual combat equipment, including a suit of airtight bulletproof armor, a Military-Grade Semi-Automatic Shotgun, a mid-accuracy automatic Assault Rifle, and a number of Fragmentation Grenades.

Abilities: He has minimal ability in most combat areas, though he can use a firearm with astounding accuracy. However, his tactical and strategic sensibilities are ineffable, and he knows when and where best to apply any amount of force to make his enemies crack. He is also amazingly good at research, being able to figure out almost anything with access to enough resources. Finally, he plays a mean game of Chess. And by "mean," I mean "Cruelly play with your pieces until he gets bored, checkmates you, and then shows you how he could have done so in any of the ten preceding turns."
Backstory: To Come Later.

[Me.]

Name: Tumbili
Race: Monkey Spirit
Age: Uhm...somewhere roughly around 3,000 or so
Alignment: Crazy...insane...bananas...
Class: Do we have to be specific here?
Gender: Well usually male, but he can reincarnate as a female...
Height: Usually about 5'10" or so
Weight: Usually around 150lbs.

Appearance: My avatar. Imagine a human sized monkey walking around in a black fitted shirt ; loose sleeves, black baggy pants; tied at the shins, and a black sash. Hand wrappings and sandals complete the ensemble. Add large ears, orange eyes, massive mane of hair, black fur, tan skin, black tail, monkey feet ( observable without sandals) and an incessant grin, and there you have it.

Backstory: Gee...uhm....well...he's a monkey spirit...not much else...

Weapons/Powers: He has a long bamboo pole and the ability to create and control any kind of monkey he so desires, what else do you need? As an additional bonus, he has outstanding acrobatic abilities, and can communicate with animals.

Behavior: Oh boy! Pretty much, he does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants, where he wants, with whom he wants, for whatever reason he wants, or makes every attempt to do so. He loves to be physically active, has a short attention span, and hates sharp and or pointy things. He loves to eat, and especially loves bananas. In one word, insane.

Note: Tumbili is a spirit, and therefore very hard to destroy. He takes over the body of a monkey when his current physical form is destroyed. Therefore, his body is not immortal, but he pretty much is. The only way to end him permanently would be to take him into a magically shielded room that spirits can't escape, make sure no monkey's are present, kill his current form, then perform an exorcism. If not, then he will just take over the body of another monkey and come back. It may take him a while, but, he's done it before.

[Skeppio]

Alpha

Alias: Alpha
Gender: N/A
Race/Species: Robot
Age: 0
Alignment: Lawful Good
Affiliation: Skeppio, GLoG
Class/Profession: Bodyguard
Power Rating: D / 3
Description: Alpha is a large and burly robot, about a head taller than an average human. Alpha is a dull metallic grey colour, his hands being darker than the rest. Alpha's head is little more than a metal sphere with a single cyclopean eye in the middle. His torso bears an emblem identical to the one on Skeppio's blue tunic.
Personality: Being an automaton, Alpha does not have his own personality. He follows Skeppio's orders without question. However, he is programmed to protect himself from destruction even if that would conflict with Skeppio's orders.
Equipment: Lots of steel plating, a few handfuls worth of bolts and a bunch of electronics.
Abilities: Alpha boasts high endurance, and great physical strength. In contrast with his bulky frame, Alpha can run at high speeds, though this expends a large amount of energy.
Backstory: Alpha is built from the remains of several broken robots scavenged by Skeppio. He was built to protect and assist his creator.

[Morty]

Faction Name: The Hunters or The Imbued
Origin: During the past few weeks, seemingly following the fall of the Empire, some ordinary humans in Inside and Riverside began to experience a strange phenomenon. When confronted by a supernatural threat of some sort, they would recieve a message - a voice, a suddenly appearing writing or something else altogether - urging them to take action. When they did take action, they found themselves equipped with strange powers that helped them drive away, kill or otherwise neutralize the monsters and save innocent humans around them. They managed to find each other and decided that whoever sent those messages had a plan in mind - but they don't know what plan, exactly.
The truth they don't know is that they were contacted by mysterious beings known as the Messengers or Heralds. In a far away world, they sent select mortals to fight the forces of darkness gripping their society from hiding. In the Nexus, they seem to have a similar goal, even though the monsters work in the open here.
Goals: Although they don't know who or what the Heralds want, the Imbued have a clear goal - protect the citizenry of Inside from the depredations of supernatural beings. Many of the Imbued, even those who don't hail from there, also see it as their goal to release Riverside from the grip of vampires. They differ on the subject of the exact ways of achieving those goals, of course.
Members: The number of the Imbued is small, but growing. Men and women from all spheres of society are chosen and given powers. What they have in common is strong convictions - which seems to be what fuels their powers. The weak-minded, complacent and cowardly do not seem to recieve the Call. The hunters come in seven kinds called Creeds:

• Avengers: Those who want to take the battle to the enemy and see the supernatural monsters destroyed.
• Defenders: Those who focus on defending their homes, friends, family and neighbourhoods from danger.
• Judges: Those who seek to make impartial judgements and do whatever the greater good demands.
• Martyrs: Those who sacrifice everything for the cause, often to atone for real or imagined sins.
• Innocents: Those who remail open-minded, hopeful and optimistic even in face of sanity-defying monstrosities.
• Redeemers: Those who want to help first and foremost as well as save all the monsters that can be saved.
• Visionaries: Those who ask questions, seek answers and try to understand the enemy and their mission.

Apart from that, there are the Imbued's non-Imbued allies. Although the Hunters work in secret so as to strike the monsters from hiding, some ordinary folk do know of them and help them. While lacking in powers, these people aid the hunters either directly in combat or by information and resources and should not be underestimated.
Resources and abilities: The Imbued come from all backgrounds, giving them a diverse set of resources and links - if they pool them together, which isn't always easy.
All Imbued have access to supernatural abilities. Each and every of the hunters can invoke Second Sight - a power that lets them see through illusions and magical masquerades and shields their minds agaisnt supernatural influence. They can "lend" this ability to others in a way, by ridding them of supernatural mental influence. All hunters also have a degree of resistance to harmful magic. Other powers depend on a hunter's Creed and experience. In general, they tend to work on supernaturals only, but not always.
What is important is that until the Imbued use their powers, they're for all benefits and purposes normal, mortal humans. This allows them secrecy, but makes it difficult to recognize each other.
Strengths: The Hunters' strength lies in their numbers and diversity as well as secrecy. They can strike from amongst the seemingly defenseless population pretty much anywhere. They're also very hard to magically fool or control.
Weaknesses: When it comes down to it, the hunters' powers aren't very formidable. But their greatest weakness is the lack of organization - not only do they not understand their powers yet, but they're by default strong-willed people with firm convictions, meaning they don't back down and compromise easily.

Notable Hunters:

Johann Pannevitz:

Spoiler

A tall, wiry, bald man with an ugly scar on his face and a gleam of fanatic conviction in his eyes. Johann is an ex-Imperial soldier and a Hunter following the Creed of Judgement. He leads the faction of the Imbued that wants to root the vampires out of Riverside. He possesses considerable powers for a Hunter and is an expert marksman.

Michael Baksinski:

Spoiler

A skinny and bespectacled man, generally not someone you'd expect to fight monsters, Michael, a Visionary, is nonetheless one of the leaders of the moderate faction of hunters in Riverside. He's an academic man and tends to be in charge of research.

Elizabeth Marge:

Spoiler

A quiet, soft-spoken short woman who tends to dress in grey, plain-looking clothing, Elizabeth belongs to the Creed of Redemption and is another of the leaders of the Riverside moderates. She usually stays in the back, advising other hunters and only stepping forward to talk to the monsters they deem worthy of it.

Daniel Hernandez:

Spoiler

Born in the Red Zone, Hernandez is a muscular Hispanic man with a perpetual frown on his face. He's a Hunter from the Creed of Vengeance and one of the unofficial leaders of the Imbued in Inside. He's said to be among the first to be Imbued. He's strong and an experienced brawler - he works for a mechanic.

Vincent Solomon:

Spoiler

An Innocent, Solomon is a rather think black man wearing glasses - or sunglasses - and immaculate clothing, usually suits. He's highly intelligent and well-spoken and another leader of the hunters in Inside.

Lee Kwon:

Spoiler

Another Judge and a well-build Asian woman in her thirties, Lee is the last member of the Inside triumvirate of senior Hunters. She's gruff and to the point and she tends to spend most of her time monitoring supernatural activity in the city.

[Hyozo]

Arltir

Gender: Does not apply
Race/Species: Ihndyr (shapechanging alien race, follows law of conservation of mass)
Age: 97 years, probably counts as less than that though.
Alignment: Lawful Good
Class/Profession: Diplomat
Power Rating: Probably manages B- if he's actually trying, but he tries to avoid combat if possible.
Description: He looks like a caricature of a human, teetering on the edge of uncanny valley. His eyes are green, and he has unrealistically red hair. The spacesuit he usually wears has two laserholes burnt into it.
Personality: Friendly, polite, and always tries to talk opponents into not fighting. Does not think of robots as people, although that may be changing.
Equipment: Spacesuit, singularity inducer, weird jeweled conch that lets him control fish (random encounter loot).
Abilities: Can change his form to nearly anything the mass that makes up his body allows. His singularity inducer does exactly what it sounds like.
Backstory: From the very beginning of his life Arltir was trained to be a diplomat, intendeed to negotiate an end to an interstellar war between the Ihndyr and Humanity. On his journey to Earth, his ship was hit with an experimental weapon which caused it to cross dimensions into the Nexus.
Miscellaneous: owns AN-13 model android named Annie (played by Darklord Bright), sorta father of Gantir but doesn't know it.

---

Gantir

Gender: Does not apply
Race/Species: Ihndyr (shapechanging alien race, follows law of conservation of mass)
Age: Exactly as long as Arltir has been in the Nexus.
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Class/Profession: Warrior
Power Rating: B-, maybe full B
Description: Bald, and has a chitinous face. Normally has four arms. Wears pants, but no shirt.
Personality: Vicious and merciless when he wants something, but otherwise willing to interact peacefully with others.
Equipment: A pair of pants stolen from LimeGreen..
Abilities: Can change his form to nearly anything the mass that makes up his body allows.
Backstory: A bit of mater split off from Arltir upon crossing dimensions. It lived in outside eating insects for weeks before making it to AMEN's base and devouring LimeGreen.

[Saurous]

Saurous Kaer

Gender: Male
Race: Elf, with a few undead bits grafted on.
Age: Somewhere between "Young (for an elf)" and "Middle Aged (for an elf)." His own partially-skeletal nature and a few transmutation and time travel incidents complicate matters further.
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Class: Specialist in the field of the partial revivification of necrotic materials
Power Level: B
Description: Saurous is a rather ominous figure of the unnatural and leery sort, with dull red eyes, messy black hair and skin of an unhealthy gray hue. Usually dressed in various shades of gray and brown, Saur is not the cheeriest person around. Oh, and the skeletal claw that he has in place of his right hand is rather off-putting as well.

Personality: "Cold" is one way to put it. "Unemotional," another. However, "uncaring sociopath" is probably the most appropriate. Saurous almost never displays any outward feelings, his emotional spectrum seeming to only stretch from "mildly amused" to "mildly annoyed." This lack of outward expression does not mean that Saurous is by any means docile or harmless, as beneath the cold exterior lies a calculating trickster who will participate in any mean spirited mischief he can think of if he can get some entertainment from it. (By the way, "mischief" can mean anything from tying shoelaces together to replacing organs with small woodland creatures. In fact, he tends to prefer things like the latter.)

In addition to his maliciously cold-tempered demeanor, Saurous has a severe aversion towards bright, colorful, or even simply cheerful places, objects and people. He thus has a fear of clowns, carnivals, Care Bears and the dreams of children. His reactions to such things tend to vary from simple discomfort to bursting into flame, depending upon the concentration of happy thoughts and the seriousness of the current situation.

Equipment and Abilities: Saurous is first and foremost very skilled in his craft of choice, necromancy. He has a particular knack for cobbling together all sorts of horrific undead monstrosities, and takes pleasure in manipulating both living and dead flesh to an incredibly creepy degree. He is almost as good at putting living things back together as he is at tearing them apart, and makes a competent healer when in a pinch.

When not creepin' it up with the necromancy, Saurous is moderately skilled at other schools of magic, particularly illusion and evocation.

In place of his right arm, Saurous has an undead claw made of hardened bone, with the fingers sharpened down to points. Aside from being one hell of a conversation piece and useful for parrying sword blows, the claw also grants a paralytic touch akin to that of a lich which Saurous makes use of in any occasion. It also allows him to channel deleterious negative energy at will. On another interesting note, the majority of Saur's skeleton appears to also be hardened like his claw, allowing him to withstand a fair bit of damage. However, he will be the first to tell you that attempting to deflect an attack with anything other than the exposed claw is almost blindingly painful.

Saurous tends to carry with him a small collection of short blades such as knifes and daggers, of both the throwing and stabbing variety. However, most of these blades are not particularly effective in direct battles, and Saur prefers to use magic or his skeletal graft in combat, saving the knives for surprise attacks or ad hoc "surgeries." In addition to his collection of sinister cutting implements, Saur carries with him a number of reagents that he uses in spells, his spell book, and a small supply of countermeasures to be used against undead that he encounters/creates-and-subsequently-loses-control-of.

[Harnel]

Kelral Hrys'tarimar Xar'cha

Alias: People usually call him Kel if their station is equal to or above his. From anybody else, he hates the nickname
Gender: Male
Race/Species: Draegloth (Half-Glabrezu Demon/Drow)
Age: 62
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Class/Profession: Military Commander
Power Rating: B
Description: See below for a picture. Kelral takes quite a few pains to make sure his mane stays fairly clean in regards to dirt, but if there is battle afoot he will disregard vanity in an effort to enjoy himself to the fullest.

Spoiler

Personality: Psychopathic is a good word to describe Kelral. Unlike most other Draegloth however, he at least has the patience to plan out an attack. This patience, combined with his ferocity and the fact that he's a Draegloth earned him his current position as commander.

He also has something of a mean streak. He views just about everybody he meets as below his station, and those that he considers of equal station still have to earn his respect. Sadistic to the last, Kelral is perfect for drow society
Equipment: Wearing plate mail and a Xar'cha tabard, Kelral enjoys wielding blades that would require two hands for any human sized creature. As a matter of fact, he keeps four with him, as he is proficient in fighting with all four at once, though he can hold two in two hands each if that serves his purpose better.
Abilities: Despite a few inborn abilities courtesy of being half demon, Kelral is really just quite skilled in combat. It's what he enjoys, and so it's what he got good at

[horngeek]

Elizabeth ("Lizzie") Fields

Alias: N/A
Gender: Female
Race/Species: Human
Age: 20
Alignment: NG[
Class/Profession: In D20 Modern terms, a Tough/Dedicated Hero.
Power Rating: Low, but capable of taking on high-ranking characters, due to being able to neutralize even Epic spells.
Description: Lizzie is a young woman with light skin, hazel eyes, and brown short hair. Attractive, but not supernaturally beautiful by any means, she... looks normal, to be honest.

Equipment: Right now? Normal clothes.
Abilities: Lizzie's right arm houses a power that destroys any magic, psionic, divine, or primal effect that comes into contact with it. This may be instantaneousness in the case of smaller areas of effect, but in the case of large areas, it may take time for the spell to fully dispel. While any level of effect may be dispelled, an effect powered externally can, quite possibly, simply reappear immediately- in this case, she would need to touch the source of the power instead of what is being effected. While this is specific to her right arm, she can also not turn it off. At all.

[Haruki-kun]

Rachel DeLouche

Alias: None.
Gender: Female.
Race/Species: Human.
Age: 22
Alignment: Chaotic. The Good, Neutral and Evil fluctuate.
Class/Profession: Pirate, Ninja, and Gunslinger
Power Rating: C
Description:

She's not the type of girl everyone would consider unbelievably beautiful. Rather, she is a bit more on the cute side. If cuteness included two guns holstered at her waist and eyes that implied she wouls not hesitate to use them.

She doesn't look like a particularly hot-headed girl, which works just as well, because she isn't. If you were forced describe her using one word, the word you'd pick was "screw you" right before punching the person who forced you to describe an entire personality using just one word of the English language. If you were allowed to use more words, you would be able to describe her beautiful red hair, tied back in a high ponytail and her matching deep, dark green eyes.

Now, if you had to describe her clothes, that would be a bit easier: A tank top small enough that it shows her stomach, and short shorts. It takes less words to describe it than it took fabric to make it. Some things just aren't poetically described.

Personality: Self-assured, snarky. But in a way, respectful of all life. Just not very respectful of belongings.
Equipment: Clothes and two guns.
Abilities: Aiming. Can hit a moving target at.... a very long distance. Dead center. With wind. She's in fairly good athletic shape, but that's about it.
Backstory: Eventually.